Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made.

Written for the Quidditch League – Season 5 Fanfiction Competition – Round 6

Round 6 - Cult Classics

QL film night, anyone? We have eight films on offer, which will hopefully satisfy everyone's tastes, whether you're watching for the first or hundredth time! Grab your popcorn, find a comfortable spot and settle in for a marathon film fest!

CAPTAIN: The Lost Boys

Word Count: 934

Captain of the Wimbourne Wasps

I'll Take Care of You

Harry sat on the dingy swing, mentally grumbling about his luck in life. For good measure, he cursed at the Dursleys as well. Apparently, it wasn't enough to treat him as if he were a complete waste of space and would better be off dead, they had to lock him out of the house. What did they care that there was a psychotic Dark Lord out for his blood newly resurrected? Going to some fancy dinner with some client from Grunnings was far more important than his life, clearly.

He startled, jumping from the swing and taking out his wand, when he heard rustling coming from the almost dry shrubs surrounding the park. His eyes widened when a man stumbled into the park, holding his side. Harry could see a slowly growing patch of blood staining the clear shirt the man was wearing. He hurried to catch the man when he saw him stumble, hastily pocketing his wand.

"Hey!" he said, hardly able to hold up the taller man. "What happened? Just hang on, I'll get help." He tried to gently drop the man on one of the park benches, but a surprisingly strong grip took hold of his arm. "It's okay," he said as soothingly as he could. "I'll find help, I promise."

He tried pulling his arm away, again, only to hear a low growling sound coming from the man.

The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back on the ground with the man firmly attached to his neck. He tried screaming, but no sound came out of his mouth, and the world was quickly turning dark around the edges.

He cursed at the Dursleys one last time before everything turned dark.

Contrary to what he had been expecting, Harry woke up. He blinked around the dark room, for the moment ignoring the voices he could hear coming from somewhere in the house.

He was alive. He was alive after being bitten by a vampire. Well... that was just absolutely fantastic.

He might not be a brainiac like Hermione, but even he knew what happened when one was bitten by a vampire.

This was just what he needed, wasn't it? As if his life wasn't bad enough, he had to be turned into a creature that the Ministry employed specialized teams to hunt down and kill in their fear fuelled bigotry against anything not one hundred percent human.

Harry chuckled, and if the sound came out a little wet with tears, there was no one there to hear.

"You're awake."

Or so he had thought.

He jumped out of bed, momentarily surprised by his agility, and crouched low on the floor, lips pulled back and exposing his newly acquired fangs. Part of him was gaping at his reactions, while a bigger part was letting instinct take hold and run the show.

The man—more like vampire—the one that had bitten him, raised his hands and took a step back.

"I didn't want to startle you." The vampire's voice was very soothing, and Harry relaxed slightly. "I heard you wake. I..." The vampire looked down, but not before Harry saw a flash of shame and guilt across his expression. "I'm sorry. I know it isn't enough, it will never be enough. But I am so very sorry for what I did to you." The vampire looked back up, expression open and riddled with guilt. "I was attacked by hunters. I barely got away. I thought I would make it to one of our safe houses, but I was far more injured than I anticipated. When I stumbled upon you, instinct took over. I'm sorry."

The vampire looked down, back stiff, and Harry slowly rose from his crouched position by the bed.

"It's... it's fine."

The vampire's head snapped up, eyes wide, and Harry mentally cursed himself. Now wasn't the time to be a noble Gryffindor. It certainly wasn't fine. He wasn't fine! He was a fucking vampire! He knew the Wizarding World. They would crucify him! As if it wasn't bad enough to be hunted by a Dark Lord, he would now be shunned by the Light. Then again, he should be used to it, right? It wasn't as if the Light had proven itself to be all that loyal. They worshipped him one day and hated him the next. He snorted bitterly. Fickle. They were so fickle.

He looked up when he felt a hand on his cheek, eyes widening a little when he noticed how close the vampire had gotten.

"It's not fine," the older man whispered. "You're a wizard. You know how they are like." The man cleaned away a tear with his thumb, and Harry was surprised to realize he was crying. "I'm sorry," he said again. "But you're not alone. I won't leave you alone."

Harry looked up into dark blue eyes, trying to find any trace of deceit in that gaze. When nothing but honesty showed, he slowly nodded.

"I'm Harry," he whispered.

A small smile pulled at the corner of the vampire's lips.

"I'm Sanguini." Harry didn't resist when he was pulled into a hug. "I'll take care of you."

Harry raised his arms, wrapping them around Sanguini. He hadn't thought it would take getting bitten by a vampire to get what he had wanted since he could remember: someone to care for him.