Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, this world, or anything except my own words.
The faint light of a moon that was hidden behind clouds silhouetted the figure of three young, terrified males, kneeling before a large dark chair. A tall, dark haired boy, beside a large trembling boy, was glancing concernedly at the third boy, who knelt slightly in front of them. The third boy was covered in blood, his hair was a dark, sticky scarlet, and his shoulders were set in a mulish and determined way the other boys did not have. They were surrounded by cloaked figures, who immediately and deferentially stepped back when there was a sudden crack and a pale, gleaming, deformed man with mania in his eyes appeared.
Lord Voldemort took an enraged step towards the boys. "Goyle. Zabini," he began, his high and clear nasty voice ringing. He enunciated clearly, his eyes livid. The boys flinched as he spoke. "And of course, the young mister Malfoy."
He took another menacing step forwards, and the moon began to drift out from behind the clouds. The bright light from the full moon began to spill over the three boys.
Gregory Goyle's face was pale with terror, he was covered in soot and ash, and his large hands trembled. Blaise Zabini had a scrape across high cheek bone, and his pupils were small, terrorized pinpoints, but he did not tremble.
And Draco Malfoy, was covered in blood, the gouges on his arm, and slashes through his robes indicated that it was probably mostly his own. And as the moon hit his face, the dark lord raised his wand, and calmly intoned, "Crucio."
Blaise flinched as Draco fell to the floor, writhing, refusing to scream for as long as he could before the curse tore a choked cry of mind numbing pain from his lips. Blaise watched his friend shudder and writhe through widened eyes, and the idea that perhaps they had chosen the wrong side dawned on him.
The Dark Lord lowered his wand, but instead of falling limp and weeping, Draco's body contorted further, and his scream spluttered and died in his throat. Draco was seizing and shaking, and Gregory caught a glimpse of his friends eyes rolling into the back of his head, his mouth twisting into a fierce snarl. His body suddenly contracted, hunched and suddenly it became apparent Draco's hair was turning darker, longer, and his limbs were lengthening, his face changing.
The Dark Lord took a step back, and narrowed his eyes, searching the crowd for an explanation.
But before any of the shocked on lookers could provide a response, Draco's twisting form snapped up and threw back its head, ears laying flat against his back, and gave a blood thirsty and chilling howl.
The white and black wolf snarled and spun, its dark eyes searching wildly, lips pulled back in a vicious expression of rage.
The Dark Lord took a step back in surprise, and raised his wand cautiously to the snarling animal.
"Crucio."
The wolf yelped, twisting, jaws snapping at whatever invisible force was making its nerves feel like they were burning from the inside out. And when the dark lord lowered his wand again, after less time this time, the wolf growled, and leaped for his throat, teeth bared, prepared to slash. Unable to think properly, Gregory and Blaise watched numbly as the dark lord hastily threw up his arms, his wild magic slamming into the wolf so that it fell to the ground with a sickening crack.
The enraged wolf scrambled to its feet, hackles raised, glaring at the dark lord. He sank back on to his haunches and sprung, but this time, the Dark Lord was expecting it. He raised his hands, his magical power thrumming through the room. He close his hands into fists, and the wolf was suspended in the air, frozen, a fierce growl stuck in his throat.
The Dark Lord muttered a spell under his breath, and a flash of light burst through the wolfs center. Nothing happened. He frowned and hissed an angry spell, and the magic soaked into the wolf, but nothing happened.
"Not an animagus then," Mused the dark lord, turning curiously to his followers. "And who invited Mr. Greyback to the initiation?" His voice was amused, and flippant. He obviously did not care in the least about what the hell happened to any of the boys. He furrowed his brow slightly, turning back to the wolf. "He cannot remain here…"
A pulse of strong magic surged into the werewolf, and as the Dark Lord flipped his hand dismissively, the wolf was slammed into a window, and flung out onto the grounds, thrown to the rest of his kind.