The Beast Boy
Prologue
"And please, just keep your mouth shut," Lucius ordered tightly of his son as they strode toward the end of the hallway.
Draco turned restlessly towards his father, whether to make a scathing remark in return or to reassure him he wasn't sure. However, when he saw the expression on Lucius's face, he bit his tongue. His father's jaw was clenched defiantly and he held his head high in arrogance, but Draco knew his father well enough to be able to detect the confusion and anxiety hidden deep within his eyes. Considering the situation, he decided it was best to follow his father's instruction for the time being.
They halted when they reached the stone door at the end of the hall and stood in silence as it swung inward. Wormtail ushered Lucius and Draco inside with a subservient bow and Draco surreptitiously took stock of their unfamiliar surroundings. The room under the remote castle seemed to be the only one in the place that was not in ruins. Still, the walls were rough-hewn stone, oozing moisture, and the single window was tiny and barred. The only piece of furniture in the room was a high-backed armchair facing the embers of a dying fire.
"Ah, Lucius, Draco, so good to see you." The high voice that emanated from the armchair's occupant was silky smooth and cold.
Draco instinctively put up his mental barriers. Between his father's painstaking instruction and his own devoted practice, the young Malfoy had become quite an adept Occlumens. The walls around his thoughts sprang up almost instantaneously whenever he found himself in a touchy situation such as this one. Draco had a feeling that the consequences would be less than pleasant if the Dark Lord caught wind of what he thought of him. Besides, the Slytherin always felt safer knowing that no one could read his thoughts or feelings. He supposed Voldemort could crush his defenses easily if he wanted to, but the Dark Lord had no reason to delve too deeply into his mind. As far as Old Snakeface knew, Draco was an avid Death Eater trainee who would never dream of thinking disloyal thoughts about his father's master. Besides, his attention seemed to be focused elsewhere at the moment.
"My Lord," Lucius was bowing respectfully before the chair and Draco snapped his attention back to the room and the unfolding scene. "To what do I owe this -" he paused, "honor?"
Voldemort noticed the pause and chuckled. The sound reminded the younger Malfoy of the rattling breath of a dememtor and he shivered. Lucius stiffened almost imperceptibly.
Still with his back to them, the Dark Lord rose to stand by the fire and replied, "If you're worried about another assignment so soon, Lucius, you needn't be. I invited you here tonight with a much more enjoyable pastime in mind." He turned to face the Malfoys, his gaunt face made even more repulsive by the small smile playing over his reptilian features. Walking to the window, he continued, "I invited you here for a night of simple stargazing." He looked pointedly at Draco with a sardonic smirk on his thin lips.
Lucius only looked confused, but Draco stared after Voldemort with dawning horror.
"Gentlemen, you have arrived just in time to witness the emergence of my favorite star, and on the first day of the month, no less! How very fortunate." With a flick of his wand, Voldemort sent a beam of acid green light to a spot above the horizon. "In a few moments, the sky will darken enough to make visible the North Star, or Polaris. It is a beautiful sight, I assure you, and many complex spells are centered around the North Star's appearing at the start of each month. Even muggles seem to sense its power and wish upon it, as it is usually the first star to appear in the sky each night." Voldemort laughed softly at the naivety of such an idea.
The elder Malfoy laughed obediently along, though only with great effort, for he had realized with a jolt where this was going. He had known that this exclusive invitation could only bode ill for himself, considering the fiasco at the ministry of a few months' previous. However, he hadn't seen how Draco could be involved until now. Although now that he did see what the Dark Lord was planning, he also knew that he was pwerless to do anything about it. Though he knew it was useless, Lucius hoped that Narcissa had already given Draco the antidote, that neither he nor his son would have to go through this. Meanwhile, the Dark Lord continued to speak, seemingly unaware of his follower's distress.
"In fact, I think there is a spell with which the Malfoy family is particularly familiar that has to do with Polaris." Voldemort's red eyes gleamed as he addressed the elder Malfoy. "Perhaps you know what I'm talking about, Lucius?"
He said nothing, but could not help glancing at his son.
"That's right," Voldemort said silkily. "I believe young Draco undergoes a peculiar -" he paused to sneer at the younger Malfoy, "transformation when Polaris appears on the first night of the month. Unless, of course, he drinks this." He drew a white hand out of his robes and held up a small bottle filled with swirling green liquid.
At the sight of the bottle, Draco's chest tightened and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He needed that potion. It was just as Voldemort had said. Without it, he would indeed undergo a transformation, and 'peculiar' was hardly the correct word to describe it. Try frightening, painful, and overwhelming to the point that I don't know who I am, Draco thought, desperately trying to keep his face free of emotion. He had to get the antidote. His mother had withheld it this week and Draco had not known why, but he had not asked her about it. The risk of angering his mother was too great and could result in not getting the antidote at all this month. Now he saw that she had been in on this plot all along.
The other part of him, the monster lurking inside him, was already plotting was for Draco to snatch the potion from Voldemort. His wand was close at hand, and if he could move to retrieve it without being noticed –
Draco's rational side angrily cut off this train of thought. There is no way I can draw my wand without being noticed, he thought. And besides, even if there was, I couldn't defeat Voldemort in a duel. He's one of the most powerful Dark wizards of all time. At that moment, and for no reason at all, a face popped into Draco's head, interrupting his introspection. A face with bespectacled green eyes and topped with unruly black hair. Draco ground his teeth. Again?! He mentally growled in frustration and wrenched his attention back to his father and Voldemort. There would be plenty of time to think about Potter when he and his father weren't being threatened with torture. However, after this split-second vision, Draco incongruously found himself feeling a little less frantic.
"Please, my Lord," Lucius was saying softly. "You don't have to -"
"Oh, but I think I do. What would my other followers think if I let you go unpunished?" A hint of threat had crept into the Dark Lord's voice. "Obtaining that prophecy was key, and yet you neglected to retrieve it. You failed me, Lucius."
"But my son! He has nothing to do with this!" Lucius insisted, glancing anxiously out at the sky.
Draco looked out, too, and calculated with a sense of dread that Polaris was mere moments from appearing in the darkening sky. He felt the beast begin to buck inside him, scrabbling to get out, and grit his teeth. If he could only suppress it a little longer, maybe he could…He didn't know what he could do. He had no escape plan, no way to save himself, nothing. So as the quiet despair filled him, Draco threw all of his hope into his father's hands as he had done so many times in the past and waited for him to take care of the situation. However, this time – and for the first time – Draco was still afraid, even with his father in charge. This time, his father was afraid, too. Beads of cold sweat formed on Draco's forehead as he blocked out everything and tried desperately to hold onto who he was for a few moments longer.
"Your son has everything to do with this," Voldemort was saying, having dropped all attempts at pleasantness. "Much as you try to hide it, I happen to know that young Draco is the only thing you care about." His voice rose to a snarl. "Perhaps watching him suffer will teach you that failure is unacceptable!"
Lucius appeared to be about to protest the validity of this statement, but stopped when he heard Draco's sharp intake of breath. He whirled to see his son clutching his chest with a grimace. Again, Lucius glanced out the window and saw Polaris glinting bright and cold in the evening sky. The elder Malfoy took and involuntary step towards the boy as Draco grit his teeth against the pain, pain that would only get worse. Voldemort noticed the movement and chuckled maliciously. Draco opened his eyes in time to see his father's face close completely in response to the sound. As he doubled over, fire spreading outward from his chest, his father turned away.
"It doesn't matter."
Draco's anguish was complete. There was no way his father could keep the Change from taking over without angering Voldemort and putting them both in even more danger. He realized he had hoped and assumed that his father had come to the same conclusions about Voldemort - that he was a deadly juggernaut that cared only about himself. That not only was it unsafe to support him any longer, it was also unprofitable. But if he felt the same way, then why were they still here? Why had his father turned his back on Draco, his only son? A small part of him dared to hope that it was all part of some greater plan or purpose, that his father had not abandoned him. But this part was so small and its claim so improbable that Draco tucked it into a far corner of himself and left it there to rot.
Showing indifference was his and Draco's only hope. Lucius tried to convince himself of this as he watched Draco's face crumple with misery. Voldemort knew he cared about his to at least some extent, but perhaps if he kept his defenses up long enough, the Dark Lord would tire of the torture sooner rather than later. In the meantime, the lie pained Lucius. For his statement was indeed a lie. Ever since Narcissa had proven herself irreversibly loyal to the Dark Lord, Draco was the only person Lucius cared for. It was for the hope of giving his son a brighter future - a future rid of maniacle Dark wizards - that he continued to feign allegiance to Voldemort.
What pained Lucius more than his lie, however, was watching Draco suffer. He kept his face carefully impassive as his son curled up on the cold flagstones. But behind the mask, Lucius was aching to help his son. Draco bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to keep from crying out. The elder Malfoy stood rigid, feeling as if he, like his son, was being physically hurt. He watched helplessly as pain invaded Draco's body, scales his skin, and the alien presence his mind until the boy was unrecognizable, even to his own father.
The Dark Lord looked on and laughed coldly. Lucius didn't know how long he could keep this up.
Within the last shred of consciousness that was his own, Draco again saw the face of Harry Potter. Without quite knowing why, he summoned his will and opened one eye – now yellow with a slitted pupil - just wide enough to peer out the window. Draco caught sight of what he was looking for and concentrated on the star Polaris, the bane of his existence. I wish…he thought, but lost his concentration as the beast relentlessly fought for complete control. He focused harder on Potter's eyes, glared at the star and tried again. If you were here…But he was rapidly slipping away, and so these fragmented, half-formed thoughts were the last Draco Malfoy had before the beast took over entirely.
"Come in," The occupant of the office was barely given time to finish the two words before a furious Lucius Malfoy stormed through the door.
"Dumbledore, I have had it with this!"
Dumbledore raised a silver eyebrow and gazed at him impassively as Lucius paced in front of the desk.
"I've put up with the whole damn business – deceiving him, which would cost me my life if he found out, enduring schemes that border on lunacy every time, following orders like a dog – all of it! It's gone on for far, far too long. Especially now that he's used my own son against me and injured him in the process! This charade must end!"
Dumbledore let him rant with calm composure. After all, Lucius's was certainly not the first tantrum he had witnessed in this office, nor would it be the last. Only when the younger man stopped raging and glared expectantly at him did he reply, saying merely, "Please, sit."
Lucius restrained himself from grinding his teeth as he considered continuing his speech until the old codger got it into his head that he was serious about ending this once and for all. However, upon noticing that Dumbledore was pointedly twirling his wand between his fingers, Lucius decided that this was not the best idea. He was fairly sure Dumbledore was only teasing – he did things like that – but one could never be too sure, so Lucius sat in the proffered chair with silent exasperation.
"There." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at Lucius in that infuriating way they had. "Now, Lucius. Remind me again why you decided to accept this position when I offered it to you."
This time, Lucius actually did grind his teeth. "I could see no further gain for the Malfoy family in supporting He Who Must Not Be Named."
Dumbledore scrutinized Lucius's gray eyes and inquired, "Any additional reasons?"
"His tactics were getting…out of hand. Uncalled-for," Lucius said grudgingly. He hated admitting that he cared about anything besides himself and his family's reputation, mostly because it went against his image. But it was true. Voldemort had become overly zealous and would do absolutely anything to achieve his goal. Lucius no longer wanted any part of it.
"Your wife does not seem to agree," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.
"I'm beginning to think she's almost as deranged as he is," Lucius said with a grimace. "The part she played in tonight's little episode was certainly considerable. People like them are threats to life as we know it and give pureblood families like my own a bad name."
"Aha! So, when you accepted the position as spy for the Order of the Phoenix, it was to protect life as we know it."
Lucius scowled and grumbled, "And my reputation,", but he knew it was useless. Dumbledore had what he was after.
"A noble cause, protecting life as we know it. Important, too, I daresay. Important enough to endure a while longer, I think."
It was not a question, nor a request, but Lucius chose to respond as if it had been. He leaned forward in his chair and snarled, "No! Now that he's used Draco like this, I have no desire to endure it any longer, no matter what the cause! The Dark Lord could use my own son against me again and I don't know how long I could go on if he does. Until we find the counter-curse, Draco is a liability, to say nothing of the fact that every time he goes through the Change, it hurts him, too! If I could sever all ties with He Who Must Not Be Named, we could work on finding the counter-curse and-"
Dumbledore's eyes lost some of their softness. "And what, Lucius? You know what Voldemort does to deserters. You'd be no use to anyone dead; not the Order, not your son."
Lucius sat back with a small "oof" sound as if he had been punched in the stomach. The blood drained from his already pale face at this thought. Dumbledore had him. He still needed the Order's protection, but in his case, that protection came with a price. After all, he had been a known Death Eater until fairly recently and no one trusted him completely yet. Frankly, he couldn't blame them. Lucius looked away from Dumbledore's piercing blue stare in defeat.
"As for your son, I don't think you will have cause to worry for much longer," Dumbledore continued, his voice gentler than before. "We shall see how the first few weeks eventuate, but I have a feeling that someone will be coming to young Draco's aid. Someone capable who is in a less precarious situation than you and has the time and…energy to find his counter-curse."
"What?" demanded Lucius, startled. "Who?"
Dumbledore's eyes regained their twinkle. "We'll see, won't we?"