Werewolf!Hermione, AU where Voldemort won.
Characters include Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Mr & Mrs. Bulstrode, and OC
M for violence
RED
The arena was empty every day of the year except for twelve; a giant stone Colosseum that rivaled the one in Rome, yet its usage far exceeded that of the Classical antiquity.
Every full moon since the Chosen One's downfall, the Games took place. The gracious Dark Lord selected his gladiators to fight and die for his honor, and the ones standing at moonrise were granted life until the next Games.
Draco Malfoy did not particularly enjoy these games, but found it prudent to not mention this to anyone with ears. So he went, and every month he stared grimly down into the pit with self-loathing roiling in his gut as he tried not to look too closely at the gaping jaws lined with teeth and dripping blood.
Theo Nott understood the importance of maintaining appearances, but he also understood his friend's growing reluctance to attend the event. So he grabbed a flask of his finest, and towed Draco to the Floo murmuring promises of a quiet day for the next.
Draco had not come out of the war a winner, and the Dark Lord had no patience for losers. Any misstep, any excuse to throw Draco to the wolves, and Tom Riddle would do so gleefully. Every social event was a political minefield that Draco drunkenly wound himself through, coming out at the end of the night unscathed, wanting with all his might that he had accepted Dumbledore's offer on that damned tower.
"Hold it together, Drake. The Bulstrode's are coming over. Remember, daughter died, don't ask about it." Theo had kept a running commentary on everyone that had approached Draco, and while the hiss in his ear was annoying he couldn't help feeling grateful to his old friend.
"Master Malfoy! Look sharp, boy!" Bulstrode had a booming jovial voice that complemented his rotund middle. "What's your bet for tonight?"
Draco bowed over Mrs. Bulstrode's hand, his lips brushing her knuckles as he murmured a greeting. He straightened up and shook Bulstrode's waiting hand, the sausagey fingers off-puttingly sticky. "I find I have had little time to consider the competitors. Please, tell me who you think best deserving of my attentions." Draco smiled grimly at the man as he tried to wipe his hand on his trousers without being obvious.
The man puffed up, appropriately mollified at having his opinion sought after by a Lieutenant of the Lord that he didn't notice Theo's stifled snigger. "There are four rounds of fights tonight, it's the anniversary of that blasted boy's death tonight, so let us celebrate with bloodshed!" Bulstrode's wife caught Theo's eye and both hastened over to the bar, eager to escape the long winded man holding Draco hostage. "Of course, the first round of fights will be fought by previous champions, to add to the glory." Bulstrode grabbed a flute of champagne off a tray from a passing elf. "I'd make your bet now, boy. So you pick a winner from the start."
Draco swallowed his irritation at the man and held his politician's smile for as long as he could. "Excellent. And who would you recommend?"
Bulstrode led him over to the edge of the Grand Box, where a windowed wall overlooked the dusty pit that was being raked by men in shackles in preparation for the night.
A gently vibrating roll of parchment hovered just above its table, a quill poised next to it. "Here, my boy. The champions for tonight." Bulstrode smiled as if he had just shared a great secret.
Draco stared down at the parchment, he usually avoided it, it was better for his sleep if he didn't know their names. It had been updated since last he looked, and now there were little sketched portraits next to each name.
The first four names were unfamiliar, and nothing piqued his feigned interest in betting. The next were no better, but he felt a flash of agony at the inked likeness of an old Ravenclaw classmate. He paused briefly at Black Beast, but at Bulstrode's huff of disapproval, continued. Draco considered French Frenzy just to annoy his companion, trying to control his own annoyance at the man breathing down his neck.
He stopped for real at the Red Devil.
Bulstrode seemed to approve. "Ah, yes. She's quite a beauty. 'Course, she can disembowel you on a whim, but she's a winner."
Draco couldn't take his eyes off the eerily familiar girl scowling up at him from the parchment. "Why is she called the Red Devil?"
"Ay, well. She's a brown haired beast, but at the end of her fights she's covered in blood so the name stuck." Draco suppressed a shudder, but Bulstrode did not seem to notice. "Devil's got a nasty look in her eye. I went down to the cages so I could see them before all the excitement-"
"Mark me down for 500 hundred Galleons on her." Draco said hoarsely.
"Her? Really? She won't make it past the first fight. She's the only -"
"Do it." Draco growled. He passed a pouch into the man's hand and stalked off to find Theo.
He found his friend tittering over some elfwine with a flock of society wives fawning over the young bachelor.
"Excuse me, ladies." Draco purred. He grasped Theo's elbow firmly and yanked him over to the window.
"Prick, you made me spill my wine." Theo's roguish grin faded as he took a proper look at his friend's face. "What the bloody hell did Bulstrode say to you?"
Draco ran a hand through his hair, flustered. "I placed a bet, Theo. I promised myself I never would stoop that low but she looked like her, Theo, and I just had to."
Theo pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, I doubt it actually is her. We would have heard if the illustrious Granger was caught." Draco hissed at him to stay quiet but Theo ignored him. "How much, then?"
"Er."
"Draco."
He felt strangely like he was being scolded. "Five."
"Five what? Galleons? That's not so bad then." Theo dropped what Draco called his 'mum' tone.
"Er, no. Five hundred." Draco winced preemptively.
Theo sighed. "Ah yes, that's the way to not draw attention to yourself. Make a modest bet on the only female combatant in the Merlin damned Games."
"Supportive as ever, Theo."
A muscle twitched in Theo's jaw. "There is a reason I vet your decisions, Draco."
Draco opened his mouth to retort but a trumpet sounded and cheers erupted around the arena, drowning out what he intended to say. He paled considerably, noticing, Theo reached into a pocket of his robes and withdrew a flask that he pressed into Draco's shaking hand.
"Try not to drink it all at once."
Draco slipped it into a discrete pocket and tried to steady his hands by latching on to the railing.
A voice boomed throughout the grandstands, "WELCOME, GENTLEWIZARDS AND WITCHES, TO THE SECOND ANNUAL CELEBRATION OF OUR DARK LORD'S TRIUMPH!" The cheering exploded to a deafening roar. "THE FIRST FIGHT IS ABOUT TO BEGIN! HAVE YOUR BETS IN AND ENJOY THE SHOW!" Stamping feet and drunken hollers echoed around the arena as the lights dimmed until only the pit was illuminated by flickering torches.
Four sections of the wall in the pit began to shuffle away, revealing large cages of barbed steel. Shimmering letters hung in the air above, identifying the combatants.
"Draco, shit." Theo pointed down at the third cage. "It is her."
The Red Devil was a wild looking woman with death in her eyes. Her gaunt figure was wiry, and the muscle rippled under her skin as she paced the edge of her cage. Her hair was dark in the torchlight, but it was an unruly mass of curls. Her face, however, had Draco captivated. It haunted his dreams far more often than he wanted to admit. The scars running along her cheek were new, but it was undeniably Granger.
"How the hell is she down there, Theo?" Draco's fingers were uncomfortably clenched around the railing.
Theo frowned, considering as he watched the handlers loosen the bolts on the cages. "I'd say she pissed off someone and got sold to the highest bidder, and they put her in here. I've never noticed her before."
A gong sounded, once, twice, and on the third strike the full moon steadily climbed up over the wall of the arena, spilling its dim light over the pit, throwing the contestants under its spell.
The roar of the crowd grew as the fighters began to shake violently, two fell to their knees, tearing at their skin with a howl. "LET THE FIGHTING BEGIN!" The announcer crowed, and a final gong sounded.
Draco couldn't take his eyes off of Red. She was saying something, but he was too far away to properly read her lips. Then she crouched down and let the transformation take her. Her body seemed to shudder as it stretched and grew. Fur replacing skin as her legs and arms broke and reformed. Her mouth growing larger, her teeth sharper.
The other three werewolves were already transformed. They were giant compared to her. The burly black wolf threw himself at the bars of his cage, snapping and growling at the others.
"She's fucked." Theo drained the last of his wine.
The doors sprung open and each combatant leaped out, hackles raised and fur spiky with fear as they assessed one another. Each wolf began to circle, tongues lolling out the sides of their mouths, saliva dripping from their snouts. Red trotted daintily, her paws dancing around the pit as she circled the other wolves at a faster pace.
A flash of light came from the handler's post and sliced into the grey wolf's shoulder. A yelp and the blood that splattered ignited the steadily rising tension and the wolves leapt at each other.
The giant black wolf tackled the grey, jaws snapping at each other's throats, claws scrabbling at each other as the black pinned the grey to the ground. A cheer rose from the crowd as grey weakly struggled against its death.
"Down goes the weakling." Bulstrode chuckled from his spot close to the refreshment table.
"Why'd the handlers interfere?" Draco spoke out the side of his mouth, more focused on the pacing she wolf than his words.
Theo grimaced. "There's always a bait wolf, one too weak from previous moons. Wolves are pack animals, they don't just launch themselves at each other, but you spill a little blood." He trailed off, his point obvious.
The tawny wolf darted forward and latched onto the grey's hind leg and began to pull. The black growled and pulled back, and the two fought over the corpse until it ripped, the tawny leaping back with the leg in its mouth.
Red had hung back throughout this, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she paced the pit. The tawny was eyeing her over its feast, its bloody muzzle still chewing at the meat. As she circled closer he lunged, his larger frame slamming her into the wall. Red got her mouth around the tawny's front leg and clamped down hard.
The fighting pair became a whirlwind of tooth and claw, their snarls drowned out by the roar of the bloodthirsty crowd. The black wolf had finished eating and threw his head back and howled. The eerie sound cut through the din and the fighting wolves sprang apart, both bleeding and angry.
Theo chanced a look at Draco, who was watching the fight much more closely than he had ever done before, but he looked a tinge green and Theo made a mental note of where the closest mens room was.
The black wolf had used his distraction to leap at Red who darted out the way, letting him hit the wall behind her. The tawny snarled and both wolves began to advance on her. The little brown wolf didn't appear fazed by the threat of two very large jaws coming her way. She kept dancing out of reach, her lithe form darting and twisting out of range every time one of the wolves lunged.
Eventually she was backed against the wall. Kill Kill Kill Kill! The chant spread through the crowd as they started stamping their feet in anticipation of another death. As the black made another lunge, Red jumped over him, her paws slamming into the tawny, knocking him to the ground as her teeth sank into the meat of his shoulder.
Just as quickly as it happened she was off again, trotting around the other side of the pit, her eyes glittering in challenge.
The black wasted no time in tearing out the throat of the tawny, and left the dying wolf twitching in the dust as he advanced again on Red.
She led the attack this time, her paws barely touching the ground before she leaped forward again, forcing the black wolf back with her snapping jaws as she taunted him. His tail twitched and he let out a growling bark before he took a swipe at her with a heavy paw. Red crashed to the ground, the force of the blow skidding her a few feet across the dirt.
She stayed down until the black wolf padded up to her. As he went to bite her throat in victory, she surged upwards. Red's teeth cut through the skin of his throat with ease, blood pumping over her face in waves as the black howled in pain. Red shook her jaws and unbalanced her rival, throwing him to the ground and pinning him with her teeth still buried in his flesh. She held him down, growling, until he stopped scrabbling against her.
A gong sounded and a trumpet played a victory sound.
Red went back to pacing, her ears flicking, and hackles still raised as the announcer spoke. "THE RED DEVIL DEFEATS BLACK DEATH TO BECOME THE CHAMPION OF OUR FIRST FIGHT OF THE NIGHT! COLLECT YOUR WINNINGS, AND SEE HER FIGHT AGAIN NEXT MOON! UP NEXT-" the announcement faded into the background as the crowds focus became more interested in the efforts of two handlers trying to collar Red in the pit.
One flicked his wand at her and she dodged the wicked red light, snarling at the wizard before pouncing on him, crossing the distance between them in two bounds, her jaws closing over his head and ripping upwards. The crowd roared and jeered as Red crunched down on his skull, spitting out his head before sniffing his decapitated corpse. The other handler took advantage of her distraction to magick a heavy iron collar around her neck, leading her back into her cage.
"Draco, move." Theo shoved the man towards the exit. "We need to get your money."
Draco dragged his eyes away from the blood soaked pit in time to avoid walking into Bulstrode.
"Pity that, my money was on Black Death, giant brute had a four moon winning streak." Bulstrode grumbled, a cannoli held in one of his hands like a cigar.
"Yes, a shame indeed." Theo gave a shallow bow to the man, "If you excuse us, Draco is eager to collect his winnings."
Bulstrode raised his eyebrows in poorly disguised curiosity. "Leaving so soon, my boy? Ah well, enjoy the gold."
Draco tried not to grimace as the man patted his shoulder. "Yes, good luck with your picks, Bulstrode." Theo swept him past the man, hiding a grin as he brushed powdered sugar off of Draco's shoulder.
The underbelly of the arena smelt like sweat, dog, and fear. Theo wrinkled his nose, but followed Draco further in between the cages filled with snarling wolves, thankful for the wards keeping them contained.
A handler emerged from behind a crate of meat, holding some cloth against a scratch on his arm. "Can I 'elp ya?" He spat on the ground near one of the cages and the wolf inside snapped at the bars.
Draco held up a pouch, the Galleons clinking together inside. "Who owns Red Devil?"
The man squinted at him. "'oo wants to know?"
Theo tossed the handler a smaller pouch. The man nodded, "Right this way."
He led them further through the cages, and they starting getting closer to the sound of shouts and loud snarling.
The proprietor was barking orders at the handlers that were trying to herd Red out of her arena cage and into a warded one.
"Thom! Thom, I gots a guy wantin' to buy your gal." The handler pocketed his new purse and waved Draco and Theo forwards.
Thom turned toward them. Behind him, Red snapped at one of the men holding the chain dragging her forward, her teeth flashing as they caught the light.
"How much." Thom narrowed his eyes.
Draco lifted up his purse, "My best offer." He tossed it to the man, who licked his lips as he felt the weight.
"See now, Devil here was found in Australia. Cost me a lot to transport her." Thom considered Draco, who stood impassively. "Got to make back my investment."
"I think you will find I have more than covered your costs." Draco clasped his hands behind his back, looking around at the empty cages. Standing a little behind him, Theo postured against a wall.
Thom hefted the purse from one hand to the other, feeling the weight. "All right." He looked back at the wolf, "Get her ready to travel." He turned back to Draco with a nasty grin. "Watch her, she likes to bite."
The dungeons of Malfoy Manor were not the best living quarters, but they were warded, dark, and a perfect place to stash an angry werewolf for the night.
Theo leaned up against a pillar, watching Draco watch the wolf pace. Draco had crouched down in front of the barred door, and slid through a tray of raw rabbit meat.
It had been devoured in seconds.
"They starved them, before the fight." Theo shifted slightly, he knew far more than he wanted to about the Games. "Hunger makes them angry, anger makes them violent, and violence attracts Death Eaters."
Draco stood up, and with a wave of his hand, he transfigured a piece of straw littering the ground into a stool. "Hunger makes them weak." He replied softly. "They focus on food instead of survival."
Theo shrugged, the gesture unnoticed by his friend. "Hunger is survival. But the instinct to survive and the instinct to fight are two different things."
"I'd wager Red has both." Draco said grimly, his mouth a tight line as he watched her sit, her ears flicking towards them as if listening. " How long until sunrise?"
Theo glanced at his watch. "Not long, I reckon."
Red lay down, her head resting gently on her bloodstained paws as she let out a soft whine.
"Theo, this was a really bad idea."
"I said that, but you ignored me." Theo moved to stand next to his friend as the she wolf began to shake. "Next time you have an idea as bad as this, I reserve the right to punch you."
Draco smiled slightly, his tired face struggling to display the emotion. "I expect nothing less."
Red shuddered and seemed to melt, the fur receding and the body shrinking back into a human form.
Hermione Granger crouched on the floor, bruised, bloodied, and very much alive.
Theo clapped Draco on the shoulder before striding closer. "Australia, huh?"
A harsh bark of laughter escaped the girl, her hair tumbling over her shoulders as her head was thrown back. "A penal colony. Seemed fitting." Her voice was hoarse, her eyes bright and she looked entirely feral.
Draco was tricked into a laugh and he stood, letting the door swing open. "Hello, Granger. Welcome home."
She considered him, her head tilted slightly to the side. "And what a welcome it was. Bet on me, did you?"
His smile came more naturally this time. "Always."
Theo stepped forward again, and she flinched away from his raised wand. He winced. "Sorry, just looking to heal you."
"Get on with it then." Hermione rose, unabashedly naked, and covered with scars. She stumbled slightly, but wore the blood dried onto her skin like a red dress.
As Theo murmured spells and knitted her skin back together, Draco moved to brush her hair away from her face. His fingers caught in a tangle and she growled at him. "Easy." He whispered. She gnashed her teeth at him playfully.
"Careful, I'm the big bad wolf now." Granger's eyes shimmered in the light of Theo's wand and held so many troubles that Draco felt his heart ache, wanting to wrap her in a large fluffy blanket.
"What did you say before you transformed?" He asked instead, "In the arena."
She looked at him for a moment before answering. "Hail, Ceaser. We who are about to die salute you."
Theo choked on a laugh, and Draco grinned down at her. "I've missed you." He said ruefully.
Granger licked her lips, "Is that so?" She accepted the large shirt Theo handed to her, slipping it on and smirking when it dwarfed her tiny frame.
Draco reached out and gently touched her shoulders, running his hands along her arms until they rested at her elbows. She felt so fragile. "So much, little girl. So much." Hermione launched herself forward, and his arms wrapped around her without hesitation.
She held him so tightly, her arms grasping at his back with a desperation that told of the horrors she didn't speak. He embraced her in return, a hand buried in her hair as he breathed her in.
Theo cleared his throat, "Think we can move this to the kitchen? I could really go for some eggs."
FIN
