A/N: Thank you to Fanofbellaandedward, Owlsnape, Helluvabutler, Silvertikal and Babyvfan for the support!

WARNING: Graphic scenes in this chapter of sensitive material (I don't want to spoil). Rated M-NC17. Please respect the all-encompassing warning, and any flamers will be reported / deleted. Thanks!

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Friday 14th September

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Harry took his time disinfecting himself and pulling on the rubber apron and gloves. Every sound, every breath seemed to put him even more on edge. He felt as though he were hypersensitive to the world around him. The hairs all over his body were perpetually on end as he raked a gloved hand through his hair, adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath before turning to face the corpse shackled to the operating table.

He wondered why the creature had been chained up but Snape insisted that it was necessary on the off chance that their tampering with the corpse caused any strange or possibly dangerous outcomes. Harry remained unconvinced as he drew in a deep breath and joined his fellow classmates at a safe distance around the operating table.

Snape didn't make any move to speak.

They watched him in silence until Neville piped up.

"Sir –how exactly were you able to capture this –thing?" he hedged, his voice a tad higher than it ought to be.

"Magic," Snape drawled.

"No, really sir?"

Snape narrowed his eyes but didn't repeat himself. "I simply tracked the animal and attacked when it was in a weakened state. For example, at the first break of sunlight."

Harry itched at his arm.

It had been two weeks since the last full moon –yet this body was still fresh. How was that possible? Was the myth that werewolves only changed at the full moon just that? A lie?

"You may be wondering how this corpse is still fresh considering we're midway into the moon cycle?"

Silence.

"As it happens, I had this creature in my possession for the last two weeks. I have been testing a draught that is meant to make these daemons docile. Suffice to say, this beast died before I was able to perfect the dosage."

"Was this the creature that attacked those prostitutes?" Neville asked.

Snape shook his head. "No. This one was not the creature that stalks our streets. Although knowing that there is more than one within a twenty mile radius is unsettling to say the least."

Harry swallowed, trying not to look at any one place too long. His arm was really starting to burn through the bandages. He bit the inside of his cheek and flexed his fingers through the rubber gloves. A tremor ran down his spine. Snape's words blurred into white noise. The lights seemed to grow dimmer and his retinas burned in his skull.

Something clapped him on the shoulder.

He jumped, his head jerking up. His eyes burned, everything felt sharp and painful and his skin felt electrified. He could feel sweat beading over his clammy skin.

"Are you okay Harry?"

Swallowing, his mouth dry, Harry nodded. He could feel Snape's eyes burning through his skin but he ignored it. Pursing his lips, he forced his hunched shoulders straighter, every bone rigid and grinding under his skin. He'd missed something but there was no time to explain as a scalpel flashed in the lamplight. Everything about this thing was larger in comparison to it's human counterpart; as one side of the mammals head was midway into becoming human –it was easy to compare to a fresh sample. The manual work was the easy party. It was when studying the empty chasm of bone and muscle and thin layers of oozing fat that was disquieting.

Neville was given the task of dissolving any left over flesh from the skull before setting it out to dry for further examination. Harry had never seen a human man looking greener than Neville did in those moments. Thomas was given the task of bagging up the entrails and disposing of them in the furnace down the corridor. The smell was so rotten it churned their stomachs. The air cleared a little once the bag was dragged away.

"What happened to the man who –became this?" Zabini asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he swept a heap of mottled grey fur aside.

"He died."

"I can see that!" came the terse reply. "I mean … Is there a missing person's report? Is there a family to notify of his death?"

"That's already been taken care of."

"How?" Thomas asked.

"I sent an official statement from the police station down Sevenoaks, showed them the body and they have written to the family with a death certificate signed by myself," the professor explained coolly, his features expressionless as he flexed his gloved fingers around a bone-saw. "Whatever is left in the furnace we shall send to the family for the creatures funeral."

"But sir," Harry piped up licking his dry lips. "Who was the man?"

"He was of no concern to us," Snape said.

"But you do know who he was? Even … like this?"

"Of course, Mr. Potter." Snape lowered the saw onto the table, and folded his arms across his chest. His expression darkened a fraction, his eyes glinting like still, black pools in the night. "There is always a way to extract that sort of information from someone –even in a lycanthropic state. This man told me himself before he died, who he was and where he was from. From that alone, I was able to locate his family."

"But sir -?"

"Do not pity this creature, Potter. He is dead. Knowing who he was will not bring him back nor humanise what was left of him."

Harry felt his jaw click shut.

A few pairs of eyes watched him as Snape eased off his gloves and went to change out of the apron and resume his usual position beside the podium and the large blackboard. Harry swallowed any other questions that had danced on his tongue, and instead when about scrubbing the blood, fat and pus stains from the metal examination table. They sluiced cold water over their scrubbing hands, wincing at the temperature through their thick gloves, and continued until all the tainted water flowed away.

Before Snape dismissed them by the toll of the bell in the courtyard, he set them to their task of lying out the bleached werewolf skeleton on the table. It was like fitting all the pieces to a large, white puzzle. Now that all the flesh, oozing wounds and fur had been stripped away it was fascinating to see the deformed shape of the half-turned skull, the way the bone fused awkwardly and misshaped itself. The way the bones fit neatly and at the same time irregularly to creature such an unholy beast.

Still, having it spread out before them in such a black-and-white way was phenomenal!

Once the skeleton was paid out, the bones still fermenting a faint chemical smell, Snape directed them to sketch out the skeleton in their notebooks and –for their personal studying –they were to annotate said diagram and identify any non-human bones they found. Harry was surprised as it seemed like the tamest personal study assignments they'd ever been assigned.

The bell tolled one o'clock in the courtyard.

"That'll be all for tonight," Snape intoned. "Clean up and get out."

Considering how tired they all looked and felt, the young men were more than happy to hand in their rubber aprons and gloves and take their time to get ready to leave. The evenings events had taken a toll on Harry's mind as he slowly packed his satchel away and slung it over his shoulder.

Just before they were making their way up to their door, Snape's voice made them all stop in their tracks.

"We will be having a lecture at 10PM Monday evening. I want you all there with your current work completed and up to date. After that, there will be no lectures for two weeks until the start of next month. If I need your presence prior to them, I shall notify you."

"But sir that's short notice," Thomas said.

The pale, sallow face looked up at them, thin lips pressed into a line. "Yes."

"Well … What if some of us have plans?"

"Cancel them."

"But sir –"

"I said dismissed. Or did you fail to pay attention?"

The two men stared at one another for a while. Harry felt a tingle run down his spine. The weight of Snape's gaze always left anyone staring back at him feeling –sick and weakened. It was peculiar. It was almost as though he had a power over people that no one else was able to understand.

Stepping out into the cool evening air, Harry drew in a deep breath of chimney smoke and Thames water. He stood at the top of the hospital steps for a while, taking in the sight of London stretched out before him, like the burning embers of a dying fire. The first bead of light would shatter said darkness in a few hours. The silence would be broken, too, with birds chirping and the shop vendors opening up for the day.

For now there was just stillness.

It had become one of the things that Harry had started to indulge in, since his night lectures had started. Drawing in a deep breath, quieting the buzzing anxieties in his mind, Harry made his way down the steps and out of the courtyard. Raking a hand through his tousled hair, he made his way East towards his lodgings, whereas everyone else seemed to veer of in a westward direction. As he walked through the streets, his breathing filled his ears and the sound of his shoes clicked softly on the cobblestone road. A few people still milled about here and there so he wasn't completely alone. However the further he moved through the narrow streets, the quieter it became.

He was about half-way to his lodgings when he caught sound of another pair of heels clicking nearby. It tickled at his senses but he focused on the pavement as he wove his way down a side alley into a neighbouring street.

The heels followed him.

His heart spiked a little as he tried keeping close to the houses, not wanting to be caught unawares from the side.

'You're being paranoid,' he told himself. 'A lot of people live this way and the pubs are only just closing. Get a grip.'

His breathing grew a little harsher in his ears.

The wound on his arm prickled and burned.

The mysterious person continued to follow.

'Please, just get me to my door!' he silently prayed to his feet –God –anyone who would listen. 'I'm nearly there, just let me get inside!'

Blood bubbled in his ears, drowning out the sounds of his feet and the other Witching Hour noises. Only the blood, his heartbeat and the prickling white noise fizzing in his bones filled his ears.

What if it was the murderer? What would he do then? Could he outrun him? Fight him off? What if his disembowelled body ended up on the front page of the papers? In Snape's next class?

He started to sweat.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he was sure he screamed before blacking out.

~0~

Warm darkness.

That was the first thing that Harry thought of when his mind drifted back into consciousness.

Where was he?

"I can see your eyelids moving," murmured a low voice. "Wake up."

Despite the heaviness of his muscles, Harry obeyed his –saviour? Captor? –and opened his eyes. Everything was still blurry but he was just about able to make out the pale outline of his sparse furniture in his lodgings. That was a good sign. Right? Blinking through bleary eyelids, he squinted in the direction of the shadow that loomed in the armchair parked in the middle of the room. His throat was dry and his joints were still from sleeping awkwardly.

Patting himself down he winced; he was naked under the thin bedsheets.

"Where am I?" he asked uselessly.

"Your place."

"Why?"

"I brought you here."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why did you bring me here?"

A pause. "Where else would I bring you?"

Rubbing the heel of his hands against his eyes, Harry drew in slow calming breaths and tried to organise his thoughts.

I'm in my own house.

I'm not in much pain.

I seem to know this person.

They were following me.

His eyes snapped open. Peering up through the greasy strings of his fringe, he squinted at the other man. "You were following me," he stated.

"Of course I did," the shadowed figure shrugged. "How else am I meant to know you're okay?"

"Goddamnit Draco!" Harry sneered, banging a fist into the wall. "We've talked about this!"

If the blonde man was perturbed by the plaster that chipped away from where Harry had struck the wall, he didn't show it. He merely kept his face expressionless, before folding his hands in his lap. "If you'll recall," he said. "I let you talk. I decided not to listen to your concerns."

"So what? Your concerns outweigh my own?" Harry sneered.

"No," Draco placated. "But you are, however, far too unconcerned for your own well-being. Someone needs to look out for you, and I daresay your landlord wouldn't think twice about burning your belongings and renting the room out again."

He had a point. Harry hated that, but it was true.

"What were you even doing around here at that time of night?" he snapped.

Draco let out a weary sigh. "I was waiting for the lecture to finish of course. I ran a little late and had to walk a fair bit before catching up with you."

"I was nearly home! Why did you need to give me a fright?"

"That was an accident and I apologise for it."

"Draco please," Harry cupped his face in his hands, restraining the urge to yell out. "I'm having a very bad weak. The nightmares aren't going away, my wound isn't healing the way it should and I think I'm getting a bit on edge walking around in the dark all the time. So can you please do me a favour and LEAVE ME ALONE?"

"After what you've just told me? I hardly think so."

"Draco –please …"

"Harry, enough. Until the danger has passed I want to be able to look after you. You know my door is always open if you don't feel safe."

"You live further from the hospital than I do!" Harry protested heatedly.

"Yes, but in a well-lit part of the city as opposed to those back streets you weave through."

Harry tightened his fingers into fists. "You're being ridiculous!"

"And you're being an incessant pain!"

"Fine!" Harry snapped. "Then leave!"

Narrowing his eyes, Draco stood up. Harry flinched away from him as he crossed to the bed and towered over the dark-haired man, looking so frail in his undergarments. His skin was loosing its lustrous sunkissed look and his ribs were starting to poke out a little too much. "You're neglecting yourself," he intoned.

"I've been ill!" Harry sneered. "I was attacked, in case you'd forgotten."

"Why do you think I'm here?"#

"No offence, Draco, but I really don't think you could fend off a werewolf!"

'Especially if I'm one too,' echoed in his mind. He shook the thought away. There was no need for that.

"Come and stay with me tonight."

The offer caught Harry off-guard. He spluttered uselessly, his body flushing a bright pink as he self-consciously drew the sheets up around his chest. "W-why?"

"So I can help take care of you. You're not well, like you said. You need some supervision."

"I'm not a child!"

"Then stop acting like one and get dressed," Draco demanded.

Twenty minutes later Harry found himself clumsily keeping pace with the blonde man as they frogmarched through the London streets. Harry had a hat pulled low over his eyes. The summer sun was burning his retinas. Surely it hadn't been that bright last month? His clothes felt itchy on his skin. Draco had given him time to wash and redress his wound but the angry red and purple welts didn't seem to be healing at all.

Once at Draco's place, a bath was ordered. Harry didn't hear what was being said at the door, his muscles tense at bathing so early on such a lovely day. Not to mention, he still has his notes to go over. He couldn't dawdle on those –

"Harry?"

Blinking, the green-eyed man frowned. "Sorry –what?"

"I asked if you were alright," Draco said. "You've not touched your tea."

Harry glanced down and nearly jumped out of his seat. Not only was he resting in the plush velvet armchair but at some point he'd even been handed a cup of tea –when had this happened? Why couldn't he remember? His skull started to throb and he groaned. Shifting the teacup onto the table, he dropped his head into his hands and hunched over. "My head –why does it hurt so much?"

A hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed. "Come here Harry. Let me help."

Weakly, the brunette shook his head but didn't protest when the blonde man took him by the wrists and helped him to stand up. He let his head bob weakly as he watched through half-closed eyelids as pale hands unfastened the buttons of his waistcoat, shirt and loosened his slacks. He only shuddered a little as his legs were bared to the air.

He was guided by his wrists over to the bathtub.

The heat from the water sent shockwaves rippling through him.

He was about to lean back and settle in the tub he was greeted with the view of Draco, pure white and naked, dark gold hairs trimmed neatly between his legs and under his arms. He swallowed drily at the length of the mans' member as he lowered himself down into the frothy water. His stomach tightened as the water rose around his shoulders and chest. The aromas tickled at his senses but all he could focus on in that moment was that Draco was leaning closer to him. The world blurred as Draco lifted the spectacles from his face.

His breathing came out in ragged gasps.

There was nothing but the soft rays of sunlight shining in through the window and making Draco look ethereal. Harry had to focus on anything else just to keep himself from having a problem. Unfortunately, Draco took it upon himself to take a bar of soap in his hands, rub vigorously until his fingers were dripping with lather, and took Harry's arm and started to wash him. It was a peculiar feeling, having someone else's hands all over you. The way Draco's fingers ran over every inch of skin, up under his armpit, over the curves of his collarbones, and down the ridges of his ribcage. It sent shivers running through him.

"What are you doing?" Harry murmured as Draco reached his lathered fingers under the frothy water to massage Harry's thighs. Tipping his head back, the brunette let out a low, guttural moan. "That feels nice."

"If you like, once you're clean, I can help you relax properly."

Harry let out a shuddering breath, his erection straining heavily just inches from Draco's fingertips. "If … If you think it would help."

Harry shuddered, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. He let his eyelids close and focused solely on the sensation of Draco's long, firm fingers running down his calves, over his ankles and pressing firmly in the dimples in his thighs. It made a sulphuric heat pool in his stomach. Stars flashed behind his eyelids and he was tense all over, biting on his bottom lip. Draco's hands moved further up his thighs and wrapped roughly around his –

"Draco no! I'm –!"

He came hot and heavy in the frothy water, feeling him rinse out completely in the bathtub. "Oh my God!" he cried out, covering his face with his wet hands. He sank lower into the tub in a vain attempt to drown himself. "I'm so –I didn't mean –Oh God Draco don't look at me! I'm disgusting!"

There was a pause. "Why would I think you're disgusting?"

"I just –I did that –while being touched by you –by a man!"

"Did you enjoy it?" Draco asked, his voice a low rumble in his throat.

Harry looked down, the wet gold hair obscuring his view of Draco's clear grey eyes. A tremor ran through his stomach. Licking his lips, he felt blood rush through him. "Y-yes … I did …"

Draco raised his head, those eyes searing through Harry's soul like steel. "Good."

Harry barely had a moment to think before Draco was on top of him. He whimpered as Draco held his head in place, slipping his tongue down his throat, his hips slipping easily between Harry's knees. Harry felt his insides flip as he felt Draco's member –hard and urgent –rubbing against his own. The soapy water tickled the hairs between his legs and made his hips jerks slowly but firmly into the tight thighs of the blonde man.

Harry craned his neck back over the edge of the tub, his fingers reaching up to rake through Draco's hair, as the older man ravaged his neck. Every time those sharp teeth grazed a sensitive spot over and over –Harry vibrated with arousal as they rutted together. He wanted more –he didn't know what more even was –but he was in a frenzy that couldn't be controlled!

"Draco I –"

"What do you need Harry?" Draco growled in his ear. "Tell me what you need from me!"

"I –I –I don't know!" he groaned out, spreading his legs even wider, letting Draco slot closer against him.

"Get up," Draco growled, pulling away.

Harry whined at the loss of constant, craning his head up to pant heavily. "Wh-why did you stop?"

Draco clutched the sides of the tub, his teeth barred, steam rising up in plumes as he prepared to pounce. "Turn around."

Harry frowned. "W-Why?"

"Do it."

On trembling hands and knees, Harry managed to turn in the tub and braced his body over the back end. The cool air made his skin prickle with goosepimples. The hairs on the back of his arms and neck stood up on end. Worrying his bottom lip he frowned into the shadows of the room beyond him. 'What am I doing?' his brain screamed as his eyes fell onto the mutilated arm. Draco had unwrapped it for his bath. 'What are you thinking letting this happen?!'

Everything went blank as he felt Draco's hands on his hips. They squeezed him roughly, wet thighs pressing against his buttocks. He let out a hitched gasp as a hand wove around his chest, up around his throat and tipped his chin back. Teeth on his neck made him tremble, his hips bucking backward, feeling the thick erection, wet and ready against his cleft. His arms began to shake as Draco rubbed him swollen member against Harry's buttocks.

Harry felt pain and fire tear through the blank mess of his mind.

"Wha-What're you -?"

"Relax," came Draco's guttural voice.

"But I –"

"Relax."

Harry closed his eyes and tried to relax as he felt Draco's long, smooth finger slowly teasing his entrance. Suddenly he felt hot, tight and sweaty and didn't know how to react, how to relax, how to BREATHE with Draco pressed up against his back, slowly easing in and out of his body. It was a sensation he'd never imagined feeling –it wasn't entirely unpleasant either.

However the thought of having Draco completely inside him –he choked.

"Shh, it'll be okay," Draco purred, his teeth nibbling on Harry's earlobe. His free hand worked on the tense muscles the brunette's back, while his other hand quickened in pace as he worked the younger man out. "Trust me."

'Do I trust him?' Harry thought, leaving his body. From his space on the ceiling, he watched as his body indulged in the sensations Draco was giving him. Arching back into the blonde, displaying himself ready and willing his face contorted in pain and pleasure as Draco readied his slick erection and pressed himself into the tight opening.

Body and soul clashed together and Harry let out a long yowl of painful pleasure.

He didn't last long. Being stretched like a thin sheet of rubber tight around Draco's member was both exhilarating, frightening and unlike any other pleasure he'd been able to experience in his time on earth. Everything was brimming and burning inside him. He wanted to weep with pleasure whenever Draco hit that one perfect spot inside him.

"Oh Draco!" he cried out. "Yes! Please, don't stop!"

Draco did as he was asked. He gripped Harry's shoulders, his thumb stroking the erogenous zones on his neck whilst thrusting his hips faster, harder, deeper until he felt pleasure lash through him like electricity. His mind spiralled as he shot his load as he plunged into Harry up to his hilt. He felt all his muscles strain and tense as he threw his head back and cried out.

Harry collapsed over the rim of the tub as Draco finally stopped spasming behind him, the grip on Harry's neck finally loosening. He drew in a deep breath and tried to close his thighs but couldn't. Draco was still between them, bracing himself over Harry, his hands gripping the side of the bath. Harry couldn't do anything.

He focused purely on breathing in … and out.

The blonde man behind him quickly rinsed himself in the tepid bathwater before climbing out on quaking legs. Harry didn't pay attention to anything but soon felt a warm towel drape over his shoulders. He trembled, his body finally realising just how cool the room was. "Thanks," he breathed as Draco took the time to get him up, out of the tub and dried off in front of the fire.

As the room was cleared and the manservant sparing Harry a look and a fresh pot of tea, Harry remained in a borrowed robe, perched in an armchair pulled up to the fire. Despite the bath and how thoroughly he'd been cleansed, the burning in his rear made him feel –dirty. Soiled.

Tainted.

The thought made bile burn in his throat. He clenched his muscles tightly as he watched the tall, blonde man stride from place to place as though nothing had happened, as though this was a normal occurrence –as though Harry wasn't his first.

More bile rose in his throat.

"Why did you do that?" he breathed into the dying light.

Draco stopped his hunt through his many drawers for some night shirts for them both to wear, and turned slowly to frown at his companion. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you –do that –to me?" He couldn't look up. Couldn't see the pity, the callousness in those grey eyes. It could cut him too deeply.

Draco stiffened and straightened up. Suddenly, the room became a chasm between them. "I thought it was what we both wanted," he admitted.

"I never said I wanted … to be … to do …" his voice broke. He pressed his lips together and huddled up tighter in the armchair.

"Harry what are you so afraid of?" Draco asked, coming into the warm glow of the fire.

Harry clenched his eyes shut. 'I'm scared that I'm a demonic beast!' he thought, 'I'm terrified I'll wake up one day and have your mangled corpse in my bed! Your blood staining my teeth and nails like a macabre painting!'

"Harry? Talk to me."

"How many others?" he finally rasped.

"I'm sorry?"

"How many other men have you –done that to?"

Draco licked his lips, his own stomach turning in knots. "Do you plan on reporting me to the authorities?" he asked tightly.

Harry's head jerked up. "No! Of course not I just –I need to know."

"Fine," Draco sighed, raking a hand through his damp hair. "If you must know –I've only ever had experiences with two other gentlemen. The first was my father's old butler at our manor. It was only a few kisses and some light touches. I was fourteen at the time. When father found out, he shot the man dead before he could get off the front porch." He paused, licking his lips and thinking about how he'd watched from a parlour window as Lionel had tried to flee and been toppled forward onto the green, a spray of red blood painting the white roses. His stomach churned inside him, the weight of Harry's eyes on his face. "The second man was about eight years ago, when I'd just turned twenty-three. I met him in a nightclub. I had thought everything was happy and enjoyable until father sent me a clipping, stating that he had married in the week he told me he was going abroad." He let out a cold laugh. "He tried to continue the affair but –I'm not that sort of person."

"But you will happily –b-be with men?" Harry cursed his trembling lips.

"No." Draco shook his head. "I'd happily be with you. If you would so wish, that is. If not –there's no reason this has to change anything."

"Is that why you live alone?" Harry asked, pulling the robe tighter around him.

"It helps," Draco acknowledged. "Though originally it wasn't my choice. This was father's way of –keeping me at bay."

"I see."

Draco watched the younger man for a while. His heart ached in his chest and he couldn't put his finger on the emotion he felt. Longing? Trepidation? He wasn't sure. "There's a nightshirt on the bed for you," he murmured tonelessly. "Have a nice rest."

Harry started. "W-where will you sleep?"

"I have another room I can stay in," Draco said. "It's fine. You need your space. That, at least, I can give you." He stood up and made to leave.

"Draco wait!"

"Honestly Harry," Draco reached out and placed a soft hand on the younger man's shoulder. "One night won't hurt you. Okay? You're safe here."

Harry looked up at the blonde man and felt his insides spin uncomfortably. He both wanted time to reflect and also to have Draco by his side. The conflicting emotions made him feel uneasy. "Okay …" he murmured, watching as the blonde man gathered another nightshirt in his arms and made for the door, his silver embroidered robe billowing slightly around his ankles. "Goodnight."

Draco turned at the door, "Goodnight Harry."

~0~

Marble –stone –wood –cool, balmy air –sticking to the teeth, to the eyes, to the fur to the blood! Cloying and suffocating, spiralling inside, electrodes attaching to every notch on the spine, burrowing deep into the brain like a tick. Radiating poison through the soul and turning it black!

Anger –rage –bloodlust –hunger!

Scraping paws under the skin, begging for release.

OUT! OUT! OUT!

Smell the blood –smell the soap –feel the flesh run down the throat!

COMING FOR YOU!

Bright eyes, soft skin, so fine, so pristine, so perfectly human! Sleeping unaware. The perfect trap. Slither the moonbeams down the throat, twist the soul and the bones and the brain and release!

Rip you apart, bite your heart –scream, scream, SCREAM!

A/N: Okay so it got a little dirty. I hope you guys liked it. Please read and review to your hearts content! B xox