It seemed like every day Draco felt more uncomfortable in his own skin. He could blame it on how little sleep he got, but he knew it was a lie. Draco had been suffering for days from the fever from the spread of Greyback's poison throughout his father's trial. It was a slow and painful process for the curse to corrupt every last part of his body. The ringing headaches where hard to ignore. His body ached constantly. He had to fight the urge to scratch at the tight ugly scars on his abdomen and arm—especially, the one on his arm. The last thing he needed was for the Wizengamot to notice him fussing over his left forearm and assume that he had a matching Death Eater mark to his father. Draco had no desire for the entire wizarding community to learn about his condition in this Ministry frenzy.
Part of him despised himself for what he had said to his mother when he woke up and saw the bite mark. Draco wasn't sure if he would agree to the decision his mother had made for him. There was a list as long as the extra parchment Granger would use for one of her essays that Draco could fill with the names of the individuals who were more to blame for what happened to him in that meadow. It was difficult to stomach that his own mother made the final choice that he would have to live with the consequences then just be another statistic in Fenrir's body count of slain children. Draco hadn't decided which fate was worse yet. Life should be preferable to death, but he wasn't sure if his new reality would constitute much of a life. The only respite was the fact that the trial was such an overwhelming distraction. Being forced to watch the proceeding and his mother barely keep it together kept his own chilling thoughts surrounding the next full moon on July 30th at bay.
It had been dreadful once they got home from the trial. All the emotions his mother had tried to lock in had flooded out. They both knew that there was nothing to do to stop the Dementors from sealing his father's fate with their cruel kiss. Draco didn't really have words to comfort his mother. Not that she had looked for them either. After the trial she barricaded herself in her room. She hadn't bothered to muffle her wails behind a silencing spell. He had never seen his mother like this. Lucius was a hard man to love at times. Draco didn't believe his father deserved Narcissa's unwavering devotion. There were many things Draco would never forgive his father for, but his mother's grief quickly shot up the list. Draco wondered if his father even cared that how his obsession with the Dark Lord had completely destroyed their family. Did he feel any guilt what hell he had left behind?
Draco had burned the copy of the Prophet the moment he saw it mocking his family's pain. He hated that he had a desire to rip the photographer apart limb from limb. Was he always so vengeful or was the monster growing within the cause of his wrath? He didn't dare to go complain to those who owned the publication. Gone were the days were Lucius Malfoy could threaten or pay for unpleasant pictures to go away. Draco had no influence to be able to bury an unflattering story. To go barging into their offices on a warpath would only invite a journalist to turn their quills on him. Those vultures were always on the scavenging for the next big break. He was lucky that none of the various Death Eaters hadn't decided to be an anonymous source for a scoop to the Daily Prophet. The Ministry was planning to make all the purebloods caught pay a percentage of the cost of repairs for the Department of Mysteries. Not every family could have such a large sum taken from their vaults. Desperation incited the dirtiest deals in the quest for a few galleons.
Draco watched as his mother wordlessly sipped her tea. Neither had the stomach for more at the moment. He had an unhelpful tome on his lap from the Malfoy's personal library. It had more propaganda against werewolves than any data that would actually help him to be prepared for the change. His mother looked exhausted. She hadn't bothered to hide how puffy and bloodshot her eyes were from her processing the finality of Lucius's sentence. Both were too stubborn to take the initiative to start the messy conversation that would be needed to heal their relationship. They would both need time before either could unpack the realities of the consequences of what had happened to their family. Unfortunately, their stalemate was interrupted when Draco realized that two uninvited guests had made their way through the wards. Draco tried to block his mother behind him before Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback made their way into their parlor. Founders be damned, what did his father do to the wards to allow anyone who swore allegiance to Voldemort free range of Malfoy Manor? How could he leave them so defenseless?
"Bella, what is going on?" Narcissa queried her sister warily.
Draco's mother was attempting to mask her concern, but she didn't take her swollen eyes off Greyback. He looked even more dangerous than his wanted pictures ever had captured. The werewolf's reputation and propensity for cannibalism was enough to frighten the boldest of witches.
"Cissy, the Dark Lord has summoned Draco again. We are here to collect him." Bellatrix was idly looking at her nails bored that she had to explain.
The last time he was summoned he was tortured and almost died. The last thing that Draco wanted to do was to follow her or the werewolf who almost ate him anywhere let alone back into Voldemort's nest of vipers.
"I was just… surprised that both of you are here." Narcissa sounded so polite but Draco could feel how uncomfortable she was next to him as they both looked at the notorious werewolf.
"Of course, the Dark Lord didn't expect me to have to apparate with him again." Bellatrix pointed and sneered at Draco.
He shouldn't be surprised. He tried to keep still and not flinch from the disgust in her tone. Most purebloods thought the very idea of touching a werewolf even outside a transformation was disgusting. Why would his own aunt feel differently about him? Draco had been tainted.
"Come on pup, I have better things to do." Greyback growled at Draco.
Draco whispered goodbye to his mother as she fought to keep him by her side. He sent her a look that coldly told her not to say anything else. She was no match to his strength as he broke from her grasp. He tried to stomp down the fear as he walked over to Greyback. He guessed that the werewolf could smell it and only seemed to bark a few laughs at Draco's suspense. Draco felt Greyback's fingernails bite into his shoulder.
"We'll be back later Cissy!" Bellatrix's cackle seemed to echo through the parlor before the three were gone with a flash.
Draco had been ready for the nausea this time when his feet hit the lush rug. When he looked around, he realized he knew where he was. This was the formal dining room at the Parkinson Estate. He had been to this house many times during his friendship and relationship with Pansy. However, it was colder than normal. Anything that had the family crest had been hidden from sight. There were none of the crystal and the candlelight that Mrs. Parkinson used to make the room glow. Voldemort sat at the head of the table which rightfully belonged to Mr. Parkinson. The Dark Lord was bored with the interruption of their arrival to his discussion. There were three seated with their mask hiding their identities and four empty chairs surrounding the table. Draco had to infer that Pansy's father had to be under one of the masks since he was hosting Voldemort's meeting. Had he already informed his daughter what had happened to her ex-boyfriend? What would Mr. Parkinson say to try to keep his precious daughter safe from the big bad wolf? Isn't that always how those tales went?
"Take a seat." Voldemort coldly welcomed from the head of the dark oak table.
Greyback snarled as he pushed Draco forward annoyed that the young wizard had been distracted when Voldemort had begun to speak. Draco said a prayer that he wouldn't die today. His mother couldn't stand to lose his father and him in the same week. Plus, he really didn't want to die in Pansy's dining room.
"I am surprised to see that you survived." Voldemort studied Draco as he sunk into the brocade chair.
"Those who make strong werewolves always do." Greyback bragged with a sense of pride and ownership over Draco that made him uneasy as Greyback's large hand harshly slapped his back.
The sound of the smack made the Death Eater sitting next to him flinch. Greyback smiled from the fear he caused in the room. Draco knew that the only reason he was alive was from his mother's stubborn will. However, sharing that observation would only make Greyback and the Dark Lord angry. Draco had never felt more pain in his life than from what these two wizards had inflicted on him. He struggled not to shake; he couldn't go through it again.
"Draco, I wanted to reward you." Voldemort smirked.
"Thank you, my Lord." The words felt heavy and ungainly on his tongue as Draco was hit with the concern that this was a trap—an unavoidable deadly trap. He shivered when he felt Nagini slither across his shoes.
Voldemort quickly stood up and his robes billowed behind him as he slowly walked around the room towards Draco.
"You will go to Hogwarts. There you will complete your assignment to breach the wards to allow my Death Eaters into the castle. I am giving you the honor in killing Albus Dumbledore."
It was impossible. No one had been able to attack the castle. The founders had been so careful in crafting the wards and generations of Headmasters and Headmistresses had only strengthen it for over a thousand years. Dumbledore might be just as old as that castle, but he was still the wizard who defeated Grindelwald. Draco could never best the Headmaster in a duel. He was a fucking dead man. Voldemort must have sensed the doubt growing within the Malfoy heir because the dark wizard bent down to hiss into Draco's ear.
"If you fail, I'll feed your mother to Greyback." Voldemort's threat carried a weight that cut Draco deeply.
He was sure if he had looked over to Greyback he would have seen the werewolf licking his lips in anticipation. However, Draco's grey eyes just stared at the wood grain of the table pleading with his body not to cry. He could hold out a little longer.
"After that victory you'll join Greyback as we finish the war." Voldemort loudly promised Draco's future to be under the monster's control if he could survive the unfeasible.
"How?" Draco's voice cracked like he was going through puberty again.
Voldemort stopped to glare down at Draco before he stalked back to the head of the table. Draco cursed at himself. Why couldn't he keep his bloody mouth shut?
"Your aunt will explain more of the details after you have some skill in occlumency. We can't have Dumbledore know our plans, now can we?" Voldemort's words were clipped from annoyance. Most would not dare to question his directions.
"Of course, my Lord!" Bellatrix's tone hinted in her absolute delight at the mere thought of how to accomplish Voldemort's instructions. It made Draco gulp in fear.
"Greyback, Draco is now excused. See him out." Voldemort didn't even watch them leave before turning to the Death Eater at his left to ask about Potter's wand.
With a crack Greyback and Draco left the Parkinson Estate before Draco could hear anymore of whatever frustration the boy who lived was causing the Dark Lord. His mother had been pacing and let out a loud sigh of relief to see Draco again. The fact that he could stand up on his own when he returned with Greyback was probably more than she expected. The wanted convict was annoyed that he was made to be a delivery boy for a Malfoy and glared at him.
"Join the pack for your first turn." Greyback barked out his order.
It would appear that requests were a foreign notion to the werewolf. His mother was about to argue with the brute. Draco shook his head and quickly turned to face Greyback.
"I'm afraid that my Aunt will want me here for the training. She would complain to the Dark Lord if I failed to be available at a moment's notice." Draco told the truth even if he neglected to say that the last thing he wanted was to be in a horde of werewolves.
Greyback tilted his head to the right pondering over Draco's words.
"Your loss. It will be a good hunt in Castle Combe if you decide you aren't afraid of the bitch." Greyback didn't wait for a response and just blinked out of their parlor like he never had been there at all.
"Draco, what do you mean by training?" Narcissa reached out to grab Draco's upper arm.
Draco sneered unsure where to begin. How does one explain that his options were become a murderer or let his mother be fed to a werewolf? For Merlin's sake he didn't even think the Dark Lord had given him permission to tell her. All he wanted to do was hide in his room.
"You were given a mission?" Her voice felt distant.
"Yes." Draco tersely responded.
"You shouldn't…"
"Mother, I have to." Draco interrupted Narcissa.
"Don't push me away; let me help you." Her request fell on deaf ears.
"You can't. No one can. If you want to know so badly ask your sister." Draco spat as he turned to take the stairs to the private rooms of the manor.
He was completely over with the conversation as he took the stairs two steps at a time.
"Draco!" Narcissa pleaded with him to come back.
He knew he was being rude. Draco just needed to be alone and that is exactly what he did. He did not join his mother for meals. Tilley brought food that he barely touched. He just wanted to disappear. His mother kept him alive for this? Could the world be any crueler? It wasn't fair.
Draco's mood hadn't improved in the two days he locked himself away. His room was filled with garbage books and pointless journals on lycanthropy. It was enough for anyone to lose their damn minds. He had tossed a book across the room when one author had tried to romanticize relationships between werewolf mates. He scoffed at its claims. It sounded more like some backwoods muggle trite. It had to be some desperate cursed man's foolish method to convince some poor witch to risk shagging the creep. Draco was annoyed the majority of these books were either explanations on why a wizard should kill on site or pitiful fairy tales to foster sympathy. He wanted facts. Why was it so hard to gather pertinent werewolf information? He was running out of time and what he had gathered only made him more afraid. Overwhelmed by exhaustion, he finally fell asleep; however, fate was not kind to him.
Draco bolted from his slumber the second the spell hit his bedroom door. His wand was firmly in his grasp as he stood trying to keep from shaking. With the telltale sound of a certain pair of boots on the hardwood floor, he knew who it was before the light of the hallway illuminated her. Unfortunately, being aware who the visitor was didn't reassure him in the least. Bellatrix sauntered into his room like it wasn't two o'clock in the morning and she had every right to be there. She was enjoying her handy work of the shrapnel which were the remains of his door on the floor. Her psychotic grin fell when she took in the sight of Draco in a defensive stance.
"Expelliarmus."
Draco was left defenseless. He didn't like being left vulnerable before the cruel witch. He crossed his arms over his shirtless chest. It was hard to appear very defiant with only black satin pajamas on. Draco glared at his aunt wondering on all things magical what could possibly explain her visit at this hour.
"You won't be needing this. Get dressed; you'll get it back after your first lesson." Bellatrix pocketed his wand into her robe before wiping her hands from imagined dirt from touching his wand.
"Now?" His complaint was harsher than he probably should have dared as he grabbed an undershirt from his wardrobe to throw it over his head.
"I am not busy. Plus, the Dark Lord just gifted me tools for this mission." She beamed like a child at Christmas.
Draco held his tongue. He would not dare to ask her why she just left Voldemort at this hour. His mother taught him polite society didn't ask questions he already knew the answer to. He tried his best to avoid any of the splinters as he followed her barefoot out of the room and down the grand staircase.
The pair quickly descended into the dungeon. It sounded overly dramatic. Most of the time these various cells were used as extra cellar space. In fact, usually the cell she had opened only had extra bottles of wine for when his parent's entertained high ranking ministry officials. He had been guilty of commandeering a few bottles over the last two years for his friends to enjoy. The room had been cleared out of the crates of boxes that usually lived stack in the corner. Instead, there was a metal chair.
"Why are we here?" Draco raised his eyes at Bellatrix as he rubbed his arms to keep warm.
The cell door shut with an ominous click.
"I didn't want to disturbed Cissy while we worked." Bellatrix pointed with her wand for him to sit down in the chair.
"This cannot be necessary?" Draco sneered at her.
"Sit down!" Bellatrix screeched at Draco.
Draco flinched but hadn't complied with her demand. There is no way they couldn't work on this in the library or somewhere more practical. This delay only made Bellatrix angry.
"Imperio!"
Draco's eyes widen in horror. The spell was uncomfortable. There was a cold unnatural grip on his soul. This could not be happening. He had to shake it off.
"Sit down." Bellatrix smirked at Draco.
Draco struggled as his foot made a jerky step forward. The pace was unacceptable to his aunt.
"I said sit, you little brat." Bellatrix twisted her wand in displeasure.
Draco was forced to comply. He was looking forward in the frigid chair. He felt like a living statute damned to feel each chisel strike during a sculpting session. Bellatrix was studying Draco. He felt that she was trying to determine what his natural aptitude for occlumency might be and what direction she wanted for her lessons.
She flicked her wrist and shackles locked at his wrist and ankles from the chair. He had to do something. Anything! This couldn't be happening. He struggled to move. However, no matter how Draco wanted to thrash it was barely a twinge in his muscles. Draco shifted focus and tried to just move his mouth; he had to be able to reason with her. There had to be a better way. She pulled a device that looked like a muzzle from her left robe pocket. Bloody hell! That was not going on him.
"Be still!" Bellatrix was beyond annoyed.
She spelled the muzzle in place. The click of the lock at the back of his head made his blood boil.
"Now, let's try this again." Bellatrix stated once she was positive that Draco would be no threat and released the imperius curse.
Draco glared at her and his attempt to tell her to fuck off only sounded like a growl.
"You only have a few weeks to learn a skill most take years practicing. We don't have time for mistakes." Bellatrix's tone was disinterested.
"You will have to learn to build a fortress in your mind." Bellatrix had a quick smile before she raised her wand.
"Legilimens."
Draco had tried to brace himself against the incoming intrusion. He felt the pressure on his mind as she easily got through his defenses and then the attack was over.
"We have our work cut out for us." Bellatrix laughed at how easy she could kick in the door to his mind.
The next wave of pressure crashed harder. Draco was furious. He screamed at her; it was muffled but his lungs tried to pour out his frustration.
"Are you even trying? Bellatrix was goading him before she started the attack again.
Draco was covered in sweat. It was so hard to breathe with the muzzle she put on him. He never thought she would use an unforgiveable curse on her own nephew while trying to teach him something. The complaint was overshadowed by white searing pain as he failed again.
"Do you need more motivation?" The smile that swept over her face was frightening.
This time the failure was met with another spell. It felt like fire ants were crawling all over him biting at his skin.
"I guess you can't teach an old dog new tricks." Bellatrix pouted her lips as she teased him looking at the scar on his forearm.
The pain of the curse plus the mental attack was beyond aggravating. This was absolutely inexcusable. How dare she treat him like a bloody animal! He felt the shackles bite at his wrist as he fought to try to break free.
"You are an animal. You don't deserve any better; you just need to focus." Bellatrix taunted at him once she exited his mind again.
The pressure in his head made his vision go bright white and he tried to clench his eyes shut and push her out. It was hopeless. When that thought crossed his mind, he felt boils erupt all over his skin. They stung before they burst and oozed.
"Giving up already? You and your father are both pathetic excuses for wizards. What fucking failures." Bellatrix spat at him. She didn't give him a chance to respond before she raised her wand again.
"Crucio."
The agony spread like a wildfire. He was locked in the pain. Then it was over. Each nerve throbbed feeling betrayed to experience this torture again. Bellatrix accioed the muzzle back and scourified it before placing it back in her robe. The lesson was over; he failed.
"I hate you." Draco panted out trying to catch his breath.
"Not as much as you hate yourself." Bellatrix cackled at Draco as she unlocked the cell door.
She tossed his wand behind her on the floor and freed him from the shackles with a quick flick of the wrist.
"Fetch boy!" That insult was the last thing she said before she apparated away.
Draco had bruises from the shackles. The stained shirt stuck to his raw skin. He fell over when he tried to get up. All his strength was gone when he attempted to push himself up. He gritted his teeth as he dragged himself across the floor. It was just a few meters to his wand. Merlin, he wanted to just close his eyes and rest. He shook his head trying to clear out the tempting thought. He had to move just a little more. Each movement weighed so heavily on him. Draco threw his hand out and stretched out for his wand. Almost. He had to do it. As soon as he felt that familiar hawthorn wand, he sighed in relief. His eyes fluttered and he passed out from the exertion.