A/N: I'm trying to get as much out there to you guys before my exams set in and I get swamped. Hoorah for quick updates! But I think what I have here is a complicated storyline that will most likely head in the direction of even more complicated as we go along which means that it'll take quite a few more chapters to wrap up. (I'm just getting started here, I'll have you know. x)) So, bear with me if I get busy and don't update in the next few weeks. (Although reviewing might motivate me to write through my exams... ;) )

Draco was still sore when he'd finally rolled out of Potter's bed. Potter would likely shove him back under the covers with a mug of tea or something if he found him up. But strangely, he wasn't in the house at all.

Potter's flat was an unusual place, filled with peculiar muggle contraptions. There was a big silver box that hummed in the kitchen. Potter had stuck a note to it for Draco to find. Obviously he expected Draco to get up out of bed then. He had gone to work and would be home later tonight. How utterly domestic of him. One single night together and already Potter was treating him like some sort of wife. It was with delighted curiosity that he discovered when he pulled on the handle of the metal box that food appeared on the other side.

He never ate well in the wake of a full moon. The stress just about killed him. Even after twenty years of this shit. He did indeed have full control of the wolf now, but it never stopped the anxiety of not knowing whether you were going to kill someone that night. The Wolfsbane Potion wasn't fool proof. But it was Draco's mission to get it there. After all, once he finally found the one ingredient that would tame the beast completely, the scandal of the botched potion production would come to an end. And he would be the hero.

There was an odd ringing that filled the whole flat in an obnoxious sort of way. Draco scowled. It wouldn't stop. He traced the sound to some sort of hand held muggle device, placed in a cradle plugged into the wall by what he vaguely understood to be a plug. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with it, so he just stared at it and hoped it would stop. Eventually it did, but the outcome made Draco jump. Potter's voice. Potter's voice leapt out of nowhere. Like an invisible patronis.

"You've reached Harry Potter. I'm sorry I can't come to the phone right now but please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Draco's breathing hitched. Potter's voice came out of that machine. The machine sitting by the phone. It was hardly bigger than a wand box, with red flashing numbers on its face. A drawn out beep followed and there was Potter's voice again.

"Draco," it said in a businesslike manner, quick and to the point but he could still detect affection underneath it all. Sentimental bastard. "I know you have an aversion to muggle things, but I hope you can make yourself comfortable in my home. I promise you, they won't bite. You might even find some of it entertaining. I'm working on the Wolfsbane case today. I want you to stay safe and hidden. The Ministry officials don't know I smuggled you out last night and they'll be looking out for you. Don't do anything rash. If you must go out, use a glamour or something. And please, do any research you can to help the case along, will you? You still need to keep up your part of the bargain. We had a deal. Now that I know what you are, we can use it to our advantage. Just… think about it."

Draco rolled his eyes, but Potter wasn't done. His tone dropped down to a husky growl. "I expect to see you tonight. In my bed. Right where I left you. The less clothes the better." Draco's heart hammered away in his chest at Potter's voice alone but the words pushed him over the edge, blood pooling low in his groin. Damn him for making him wait. "And do eat something, will you?"

As hard as he was, Potter was right. He had to get out there and test the waters. He had to talk to a few merchants. A few werewolves. Take a good look at the Ministry documents concerning the case again. Perhaps he could even conveniently run into Potter while he was at it. He'd like that: running into Potter. Maybe give him a good hard snogging in anticipation for tonight.

But first thing's first. He needed a hot shower and the company of his right hand.

~.~.~.~.~

"We had a werewolf escape last night," Harry was addressed to which he tried to look surprised at this news. "We have yet to examine the Wolfsbane in his blood sample. As of now, we have no idea how dangerous this dog can be."

Harry's expression hardened. "He can't be dangerous until next full moon. The Wolfsbane will last him at least another week before it wears off. Do cross check it for hostile ingredients though. He's as much a danger to himself as he is to others."

Really, in all of this, Harry was curious to see what Draco had done to that potion he took. He wouldn't have willingly taken a tampered potion. Like Draco had said he knew a tampered potion when he saw one. Which led Harry to believe that Draco had brewed that particular potion. Whatever extra elements were in it would answer his one burning question- what was Draco Malfoy doing to himself?

He was an intelligent man, he could grant him that. And he trusted him not to do anything outrageously stupid. And as loathe as he was to admit it, he was acting rather suspect. That wasn't to say that he was suspicious of his blond paramour. In fact, there was so much of him that he just flat out admired. Rather blindly, in fact. As if he would walk to the ends of the Earth just to see Malfoy's face. Their time together last night solidified something within him; confirmed everything he'd suspected of himself.

That he was in love with him.

That much was clear when he found himself far from angry at Malfoy for keeping his true form to himself. Not even a little bit. He hardly expected Draco to open up and tell him his every secret as they lay spent between rustled bed sheets. But he knew there was a clear change between them. Things were different now. They were two very different people meaning one very different thing to one another than they had before. Or perhaps it never had changed. Maybe that was the one thing that hadn't changed- the way they'd felt.

They had crossed boundaries last night. Boundaries Harry didn't even know they were capable of crossing. They had touched where they had not touched before. They had peeled away clothes; peeled away every single heavy expectation the wizarding world had of them; peeled away their hatred. Until all that was left was skin and bone. Beneath those bed sheets, they had lain themselves out for each other to see, like nude sculptures in a museum. Leaving no secrets.

But there were secrets. That was the problem. They had to bridge those gaps. And Harry was more than willing to take the time to do it. The only question was, was Draco willing?

~.~.~.~.~

Since the death of Remus Lupin, the werewolf help groups were beginning to take a rather sardonic turn. They still supported one another, as help group should. But they were becoming restless. They were tired of being treated as the minority; as less than human. They felt their voices weren't being heard. That no one in the wizarding world would listen. And living quietly in the muggle world would just be a disaster. A lot of werewolves abandoned the group in favor of the darker wolf packs. The ones who were spurned to action; who wanted to get things done themselves. If the Ministry was unwilling to take their case, then they'd have to take it up themselves. And peaceful protest was hardly in a werewolf's repitoire.

They blamed the tampered Wolfsbane Potions on the Ministry. They had a theory that the officials had done it deliberately to prove that even under the influence of the calming draught they were still dangerous. They felt violated. They felt exposed. They felt cheated. They felt that changes needed to be made. And soon. They had to set the records straight.

Draco knew the truth. He knew that there was some gambit of fact in their theorizing. After all, he did work for the Ministry. And now that it was out there that that was where the werewolves' suspicions lay, he could easily turn this around on their wizarding government. For he felt the strains of oppression too. The question was, whether he should choose to join them.