A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters/locations related to the franchise. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy the only thing I do own...the plot. Also M rating for language and possible sexually explicit scenes (really just wanted to be safe with the rating).
It had been nearly a month since Draco had been bitten by Fenrir Greyback. Bitten. That was a laugh. He had been practically mauled. When the Death Eaters had finally pulled Draco from the dark damp dungeon, he had been bloody and near death. Fenrir had torn his arm asunder, and there were at least seven bite marks along his body.
He had been taken to his mother, and had heard her wails as he clung to life. Wails that now echoed in nightmares that haunted his nights like a plague. She was able to stop the bleeding by staunching the bites with powdered silver and dittany, while forcing him to swallow a blood replenishing potion, but that was it. The cursed wounds would not take to any other spells for healing. That meant that Draco still had several deep bite wounds that had not healed all the way.
He sat in a dingy old bar that smelled vaguely of ale and vomit. Snape had come to him two weeks ago and had told Malfoy he was to meet an old acquaintance in this pub. According to the potions master, the man was familiar with Draco's condition and had promised to help him.
Draco spent several hours over the next few weeks wondering who the mystery man could be. He had attempted to ask Snape, of course, but the older man had snarled at Draco to keep his mouth shut about it. So, that left Draco to his own mental ramblings.
It couldn't have been a Death Eater, as they wouldn't have been stupid enough to attempt to help Draco with his punishment. It could have been a member of Fenrir's pack, but that still was unlikely. The pack were brutes, and most refused to be seen in the wizarding public. More likely it was someone who studied werewolves for a living, and would be able to answer Draco's questions with aloof scholarly precision.
Draco had attempted to order a mug of ale from the old barmaid that occasionally patrolled around the tables, but when he saw the grotesque cup the drink had appeared in he scooted the mug to the middle of the table and hadn't looked back at it. Drinking from the mug wouldn't make Draco sick, the infection that now tainted his blood would kill any virus or bacteria before it had a chance to cause any damage.
Still, Draco thought as he adjusted his cuff links, he had taste buds. And that reeked of almost turned ale. He scrunched his nose at the smell. Over the past few weeks his senses had been on overdrive. He had nearly lost his lunch when a Death Eater had walked by his room the other day. The door had been closed, but the smell had crept under the wood frame and penetrated Draco's sensitive nostrils. Hadn't the bastard heard of a shower. Or a fucking lake.
His sense of smell wasn't the only thing that had bothered Draco. He felt like there was something moving just under his skin. Something itching just below the flesh. Several times he had woken up screaming because he had scratched himself until he had bled. Draco felt like he could feel his blood moving under the skin, and he hated it.
Merlin. I'm not a pureblood anymore.
The thought had passed through his mind at random the past few weeks. Every time it did his stomach would clench and his heart would speed up. Tell tale signs of an oncoming panic attack. So far he had been able to avoid them, but felt like he was only hanging on by a single thread.
No longer a pureblood. Every time he had snarled at a mudblood for daring to walk in his path. Every time he had told Tracey Davis he wouldn't touch her because she was lesser. It was all for nothing, because now he was even lesser than she was. Almost less than the mudbloods were. Merlin. If he had known he would have taken the blond half-blood when he had the chance. He smirked a little to himself, lost in his memories of the smiling big chested Slytherin. The sudden sound of a body slumping caused Draco to jump a little in his chair when a man scooted into the bench seat across from him.
The man now sitting across from Draco looked haggard. His tweed jacket was wrinkled, and his short mousy brown hair had several patches that stood up at odd ends. His green eyes scanned Draco for several moments before he gave the air one great sniff.
Almost on instinct Draco took a deep breath in through his nose as well. Draco breathed in the scents associated with his new companion. The man smelled strongly of parchment, and even more so of chocolate. Underneath both of those scents, however, was another aroma that smelled musky and wild.
The underlying scent caused Draco's hands to shake, and a tight lead ball to drop into his stomach. Feeling something take over him he curled his lips up over his gleaming white teeth, a rumbling coming from deep in his chest. The man raised his hand placantantly before giving Draco a small smile.
Draco took in a deep calming breath and forced whatever the fuck caused that reaction back into the recesses of his mind. Once he was sure that it was locked up good and tight he relaxed a bit, trying to maintain a sense of composure in front of the older man.
"Well, at least Severus wasn't lying." Finally, the man spoke. It was his voice that triggered the memory. The soft confidence that rang true brought back a classroom that was lit up by the afternoon sun. Professor Lupin.
"Professor." Draco responded curtly, grabbing the abandoned glass mug on the table so he had something to do with his hands. Draco had been secretly impressed with the way the professor had commanded the classroom. He had learned a lot when Lupin taught the young students, and had even had fun during those lessons. Still, he knew that this man was a dirty werewolf who didn't belong in wizarding society. Draco flinched a little at his thoughts…now so was he.
"Mr. Malfoy. I must say, I am not particularly pleased to be seeing you." Draco furrowed his brow a little, "The last time we met you were fleeing from the castle, my mentor dead behind you." The man spoke calmly, but Draco didn't miss the yellow that flashed only briefly in his leaf green eyes. A bright reminder that the man sitting across from him was as dangerous as they come.
Both wolves sniffed the air again when two gentlemen entered the bar. They smelled dirty, but there was no note of hostility among the pungent air that wafted towards their spot in the pub. The table Draco had chosen was near the back, in a corner cast in shadow. It would be clear to any who entered that the two wanted to be left alone. While Draco had waited no one had entered the pub. The only people around had been an old drunkard passed out on a table, and a group of four men who seemed to be celebrating something. The two patrons that had just entered nodded to the barkeep before they broke out in large smiles and hopped up to sit on the stools.
Draco and Professor Lupin both relaxed slightly when they realized that they were not a threat. "I-" Draco began, stopping just as quickly. He flexed his hands around the glass. His fingers wanted to move and tousle his hair, like he loved to do when he was nervous or uncomfortable, but he refused to show weakness around the man. Instead he gritted his teeth, his jaw flexing under the skin until his muscles hurt.
Luckily Lupin took pity on him and just raised a hand, "I am not here for that. I am here because Severus told me what your punishment had been for failing." He hesitated when the barmaid came up and asked him for his drink order, he asked for water and turned back towards the conversation. "I will answer your questions regarding the wolf. That is all."
"Why?" Draco coughed out. "Why help me at all? I-" he couldn't finish his sentence. His cheeks felt warm as shame washed down from deep within him. He had fucked everything up for himself. He knew that night, standing on the astronomy tower that he no longer wanted to be a part of this. He didn't want to be a Death Eater, and kill people. Deep down he had always known that he wasn't strong enough to utter the killing curse, to truly hurt people. But he buried that fear under projections of arrogance and hours of bullying.
"Because you need someone to answer your questions Mr. Malfoy. You need to know what you are up against," Lupin sighed leaning forward slightly so that his forearms rested on the table, "and Fenrir is not the person you want to ask." There were several moments of tense silence in which the barmaid dropped off Lupins water, and Draco's mind raced. There were so many questions he had, but it seemed for a moment that it would be impossible to decide on one. Draco didn't know if he would have another opportunity like this, so he blurted the most pressing thing that was on his mind.
"Will it hurt?" His voice sounded weak, and scared even to his own ears.
Lupin eyed him before taking a slow deep breath. Finally, the older wolf nodded sadly, "Yes. It will hurt, every time. There is nothing you can do to stop it, but I find that drinking water helps before the change. Makes the process more…fluid." He raised his cup in mock cheers before taking a long drink. Lupin sat quietly waiting for Draco's next question.
"What is it like?"
"Have you been drinking wolfsbane?"
"Yes, the past three days." Draco nodded his head, his fingers tracing idle patterns along the glass of the mug. "It tastes bloody awful."
Remus gave a small chuckle before making a noise in agreement. "But, with the potion the wolf won't be so bad. You should be thankful that you have such easy access to the brew, not all of us are that lucky." The man's green eyes flashed over Draco's shoulder as a clouded look appeared over his face. Lupin stared off, lost in his own thoughts for a moment before he pulled himself back to the present. "Do you feel the itching?"
"Yes. What the bloody hell is it?" Draco was startled slightly at the way his voice sounded suspiciously like a growl. The older wizard simply raised an eyebrow slightly, before answering.
"It's the wolf. The closer the full moon gets, the more irritated he will be. It is worse before the first moon."
"Without wolfsbane…what's it like?"
"You feel the wolf, and then you are the wolf. The wolf controls every ounce of you, and it's like you are pushed into a cage in your own mind. You watch everything that happens, but you're powerless to stop it," He paused for a second taking a shaky breath, "I have attacked people I love while under the moon. I would compare it to the Imperius Curse, where you can't control your own actions."
"What's the wolf like?"
"You won't know until you meet him, honestly."
"Meet him?" Draco felt the confusion litter his face.
"Yes, you'll meet your wolf during your first full moon. I don't know what your wolf will be like, because they are all different. Most share common qualities…the rage and desire to hunt. Some have that more than others, like Fenrir. His wolf is strong and has almost completely taken over the man," Lupin raised his hand to silence Draco as he opened his mouth to comment, "That doesn't happen unless the wizard allows it and the wolf is exceptionally strong. I can tell you that the wolves are like separate personalities, and he will feel different than you."
Draco moved his hands to his hair, running his fingers through his blond locks before locking his eyes on the table. This was a lot to take in. He went through the process of storing all this new information in his mind for further use before going down the list of questions he had left. He shuddered when he remembered the only remaining one.
He argued with himself for several seconds before finally deciding it was best to just ask it. He opened his mouth several times, trying to word it the best way. This was the last chance to interview someone who knew about these sorts of things from firsthand experience-at least someone who wasn't going to eat him-so he took a deep breath and pulled what little bravery he had from deep within.
"I read a-about werewolves after I was bitten," Draco rushed out. He took another breath, steadying himself. This was the most embarrassing thing he had ever had to ask. "Most texts mention…well, they mention," Draco lowered his voice to just above a whisper, "mates."
Lupin's eyes gleamed a little with mirth at the younger man's misery. Finally, he smiled and spoke in a similar low tone, "Yes, we have mates. And they are wonderful for some. For others it can be more complicated."
"What do you mean? How do we know who they are?"
"We know who they are by their smell, and instinct. Once you find her…if you find her you will feel a pull to her like no other. It's hard really to explain, but your wolf will know." Remus paused for just a moment, raising his hand and waving away the waitress who had approached their table before continuing, "We have no choice in the mate, and we only get one. The magic is old and powerful and the compulsion to be with the mate after the wolf finds them is almost impossible to ignore." Lupin's face had hardened as he spoke. Draco watched the man's shoulders lower a fraction as if they carried a heavy burden, "Some may never find their mate, and die with a sense of longing that they could never fulfill. It doesn't kill them outright, and you can live without one…but the sense that something is missing will haunt you."
He paused looking off to the side while speaking the next part, his eyes locked on a sconce on the wall next to their booth, "For some, they find their mate in another wolf. A wolf who connects with them in a way others couldn't. They live together happily, and share their secret together. It binds them to one another in a way that you and I cannot understand."
Draco had a feeling deep inside his chest that the other wolf was not done. Gently he prompted the other wizard to continue, "And the others?"
"The bond connects them to a witch or wizard. Someone they will always risk hurting if they want to be with them," The old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor looked sad, there was a hint of water in his eyes when he brought the cup to his lips again. He blinked a couple of times before locking his green eyes on Draco's. He appeared like he was speaking from experience, and Draco felt his stomach clench in empathy for the man. "Some find our mate in a witch who is incredible, beautiful, and our match for wit and measure…knowing we can never be with them. Knowing our curse blocks us from giving ourselves to them." Lupin shook his head quickly, clearing his thoughts. "It is the worst form of torture."
A thick silence settled over their small booth. The ruckus from the bar was beginning to get louder. Every few minutes grungier people stumbled into the old pub. The two sat there for several minutes, Draco absorbing what the old professor had told him. Could he live with himself if he hurt someone? Someone who he could potentially love? "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Draco mumbled, not really realizing the words were leaving his mouth. "I am sure, whoever she is, she would accept you."
"I know she would," Lupin sighed, a sad smile spread across his face but didn't reach his eyes, "But I can't risk hurting her."
"What makes you think you will."
"We always do." Lupin stood up gruffly from the table, their conversation clearly ending on his terms. "We always hurt the ones we love. That is the last secret about wolves. When they call us a freak, a murderer, and a monster…they're right." Lupin threw a couple of sickles on the table before turning back to Draco.
"If you have any further questions Severus can get a hold of me. No matter what is going on out there," Lupin waved his hand towards the walls of the grimy establishment, "I will try to make time to help you." The older wizard put a strong hand on Draco's shoulder before pulling back and giving him a wane smile. "Good luck on your first moon. The first one will be the most difficult."
"How was yours?" Draco asked quickly. One more question before the man left. That's all he needed. One more answer.
"I was young when it happened. I don't remember much except the pain." Lupin murmured.
"How old were you?" Ok, so maybe more than one more.
"I was four."
"What kind of a monster attacks a four year old?" Draco felt himself stiffen, his stomach rolling again underneath him. He imagined a young Lupin, sandy brown hair on a pudgy face as he was attacked by a werewolf. How did the boy even survive? It wasn't fair that Draco was a wolf, but the fact that Lupin had been one since childhood was cruel.
"We do." Lupin gave him a pat. Draco's stomach lurched at the old professor's admittance. They did. Because they were both wolves. They were monsters, the things that didn't just go bump in the night, but crashed through trees to tear you limb from limb. "Remember to take your potion Draco, every night."
It wasn't until after the war that Draco learned it was Fenrir Greyback was the wolf who had turned Lupin. Once he had, he was just angry he wasn't the one who had taken out the bastard.
A/N 2: I changed the name from Silver Eyes Under a Silver Moon because I was not happy with it. I like Choices a ton better and hope you do too!