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).

Mature Content Ahead: TRIGGER WARNING: Violence and Mentions of torture. Please read ahead at your own risk!

Draco was able to use that one meeting with Remus Lupin to strengthen his resolve. A few days later during his first full moon, he apparated to a small cottage on the grounds of Malfoy Manor and let the change take him.

The cottage was small, with a sitting room that was just the right size for a werewolf to reside in through the full moon, as long as most of the furniture was taken out. All that was left in the room were pale blue walls, one large bay window, and a large settee off under the clear glass. The settee had a lovely floral pattern, but was currently covered in a white sheet to prevent dust.

Draco smirked at his mothers need for everything to be perfect. This was supposed to be Draco's cottage. It's main use was for when he had friends over. A place for them to be away from the adults, and to relax. Kind of like a child's clubhouse. Narcissa had insisted on decorating it. As such the cottage was drowned in similar floral patterns. Draco had only asked that the bedrooms remain neutral colors. He really didn't need to see flowers when he was trying to shag Daphne Greengrass…or her little sister Astoria.

He let his mind wander over memories of the girls, particularly Astoria, but found that his thoughts didn't excite him the way they typically would. Normally, just the mental image of Astoria's creamy skin would have had Draco hot under the collar, but tonight there was nothing. Chalking that up to nerves before the full moon, Draco stood near the window and watched as the moon rose above the hillside to the east. The moon was almost up...

"Moons almost up. Won't be long now." The voice growled as the man tilted his head back to feel the pale rays of the moon. Draco's heart beat faster as he tried to think of a way...any way out. It was a feeble attempt, but still he tried. He raced along the walls in the back, praying that he could find access to servants quarters or another secret tunnel that led away from the fate that lay before him.

An inhuman wail pulled Draco's attention from the wall that he was clawing at. Before him Fenrir threw his head back as far as it would go and screamed. The bones in his arms began to snap and elongate as his jaw pulled and shifted unnaturally under the skin. Before him Draco saw the man's teeth elongate, and sharpen until they were that of a rabid dog. Fenrir dropped to the floor from either the pain, or in anticipation of his coming form...Draco wasn't sure which.

Draco heard the sharp crack! of bones breaking and fusing themselves back together. The other wizard's back bent and broke until it was the proper shape, as his shoulder blades pulled forward, adjusting to the new angle of the canid form. The clothes that the bastard had been wearing split and ripped until they fell from his body like he was shedding the only thing that remained that had made him human. Thick, coarse hairs sprouted from the wizards face and down his back until he was covered in tawny fur.

When the wolf stood. Draco averted his eyes as the beast stalked forward, gaze locked on it's prey. The first bite caught Draco by surprise. The teeth cut through his upper arm until it hit bone. The dog shook him like he was a ragdoll until Draco's screams were drowned out by the sound of breaking bone and tearing flesh. Malfoy tried to fight back, but the wolf was massive, and there was nothing he could do. He had no wand, and he wasn't used to fighting the muggle way. When his fist made contact with the wolf's head right above the ear it released him, but made a growl that sounded eerily like a chuckle before striking again.

The next bite was on Draco's hip, and while equally painful, didn't bleed as much. Again Draco fought until the beast released him, and again the wolf bit down once more. This time on his foot. They continued this 'game' until Draco had seven total bites.

One on his upper arm.

One on his hip.

One on his left foot.

Two on his right thigh.

One on his left calf.

One on his back shoulder blade.

And one...one on his chest...right above where his heart was.

Draco passed out after the one on his chest. Convinced he would never wake back up. That was of course until he heard his mother's pitiful cries. Draco had yet to analyze the disappointment he had felt at knowing he was going to survive.

Draco pulled himself from the memory with great difficulty, and turned his attention back to the rising moon. For several minutes the moon traveled across the sky, and Draco felt nothing. He allowed himself to hope that something happened and the numerous bites he had suffered did not contain the Lycanthropy virus. That maybe he would be untouched by the curse other than the heightened sense of smell and hearing. That all came crashing down when he felt a slight twinge in his chest.

The slight twinge, right over where his heart was, became a sharp pain. Draco huffed out a couple of breaths, trying to breath through the pain, as his hand clenched on his shirt over his heart. He had not taken off his clothes, foolishly believing that it couldn't be real. That he wasn't really going to turn. Before too long the pain became so intense that Draco fell to the light-colored wooden flooring, his knees stinging from the impact. The slight pain in his knees was quickly forgotten when liquid fire erupted from his chest and spread under his skin through the rest of his body. This must have been what fiendfyre felt like, only it was inside of him. Burning through his veins, cutting through his hands and toes until they curled in on themselves in reflex.

His breathing came in swift pants, the air rushing down his throat so fast it burned. As if the liquid fire wasn't enough pain, he then felt as if every single vertebra in his back was breaking. He stretched his body out trying to relieve the pressure, but it didn't help. Draco heard the first grunt of pain leave his throat, but it was quickly followed by a scream that echoed off the walls. To think he almost didn't cast a silencing spell around the cottage.

His arms suddenly snapped underneath him, the bones severing before shifting and refusing. Draco dropped the pressure from his arms so that he was now laying face first on the ground, screams still tearing out of his throat. He watched in horror as his fingers, which were clinging to the wood, shook and shrank until dark claws erupted from the tips. The slight scratches he was leaving on the floor turned into thick, inch deep gouges.

Draco felt his shirt and trousers rip down their seams, making room for his new body as his torso began to twist and contort, the change claiming him. His head felt like it was going to explode, his jaw began stretching and changing to make room for his new teeth. The pops of bones shifting almost as horrible as the actual pain. The screams that tore through Draco's throat slowly turned into canid whimpers. This pain, Draco decided, was on par with the torture curse.

The weirdest feeling by far was the shifting of his ears which pulled up on his head, wriggling towards the top. The second weirdest feeling was the severe itching of his pale skin. The discomfort preluded fur emerging from his flesh, the strands dark black like a midnight sky. Funnily, Draco had thought he would be a blond werewolf.

Then, as suddenly as it started…the change was done.

Draco huffed a few breaths, his body still trembling slightly from the after affects of the change. He was a true, honest to Merlin werewolf. If Draco was still in human form he may have cried, but as it was he merely whimpered into the empty room. He would never be considered a pureblood again. He was now lesser. He was lesser than all his friends, and if they ever found out what he was he would be ostracized from them. He let out a low whine, terrified of what his future would hold. He was lesser than a half-blood. Almost as low as a Merlin be damned mudblood.

After a couple of moments of pulling himself back together, Draco stood roughly on shaking legs. It felt weird being on four feet instead of two, and after taking a couple of steps to get used to the weight distribution he turned towards the dark hall. Draco inwardly smirked at how easy it was to see in the darkness, with just the light of the pale moon to guide him. His vision was powerful, easily making out the tiniest details of the knick knacks on the shelves in the dark rooms, or the wood grain of the floor beneath his clawed paws. Taking one more moment to steel himself, he began bounding down the hall slowly, making his way-ungracefully in his new body- towards his bedroom. There he found a full-length mirror and stared at his new werewolf form.

He was large, probably standing as tall as a full-grown witch or wizard. He cocked his head to the side as he stared at himself, guessing that he weighed around 25 stone. Otherwise he looked just like an oversized timber wolf. His whole body shook on instinct, the hair shifting around his body loosely as the skin moved in pattern with his shudders. He huffed a chuckle out of his snout at the sight.

His hair was a dark rich black, that seemed to almost suck in what little light there was in the room. It was thick, and tickled when it moved, but he figured he would get used to that. He smirked a little at the dark color, thinking that even in wolf form he looked damn good in black.

His eyes were by far the most interesting part. They were glowing in the dark a bright, metallic silver. When he watched, he could see the reflecting eye shine of a nocturnal predator, and it was both fascinating and terrifying.

We aren't terrifying, we are magnificent. A rumbling voice called in his mind. Draco jumped back on all four of his feet, slipping when he landed and sliding on the ground in an ungraceful heap. You will get your feet under you eventually. The voice sounded exasperated and annoyed at him. It was deep, but sounded like Draco when he was angry. It was weird hearing his voice echo through his head without purposefully thinking those words.

A bark left Draco's mouth before he realized that he could not speak back. Rolling his eyes he tried to respond in his thoughts. You the wolf? He questioned. There was a deep rumble in his mind that signified a response before Draco felt the feeling of agreeance spread through him. Well, I hope you are comfortable on the back, because I will never let you steer this broom. Draco gave his best mental impression of a smirk. He had expected to be met with anger, but instead there was the feeling of annoyance.

Whatever you say, Human. Draco sighed, and trotted back to the living room. As he walked by he saw the marks he left in the flooring and cringed. Mother was going to kill him. He hopped up onto the couch, and crossed his front paws in front of him. Now, to sleep away this blasted curse. Taking a deep breath, he rested his muzzle on his front paws and closed his silver eyes.

Try as he might, Draco couldn't go to sleep. He felt a tug at his heart, like he had forgotten something important. He wished he had his Remembrall with him so he could check and make sure it wasn't just anxiety. It's our mate, foolish boy. She calls to us, can't you feel her. Draco rolled his eyes. We've touched her before… That's the only reason the pull is this strong already.

Whatever, just go to sleep. A growl sounded in his mind, so Draco responded with his own out loud. The sound sounded low in his chest but eventually grew loud enough it caused his whole body to tremble. SLEEP.

Fine. Sleep. But remember, I get stronger with every moon. The wolf began, sounding both smug and patient. All it takes is one missed dose and I'll be free to find her. Draco rolled his eyes, and allowed his mind to quiet. He was never going to miss a dose, so this whole argument was invalid.

The months continued much in the same ways as the night in the cottage. The only difference was that while at school Draco changed in the shrieking shack. Funnily enough, Snape brought him there right before his first moon back on campus. The new Headmaster informed Draco crisply that this was where Lupin turned during his tenure at the school, quickly showing him a secret passage under the Whomping Willow.

Draco's seventh year at Hogwarts passed relatively normally other than the Carrows, and their grotesque taste in punishment and practical lessons. He noticed the Golden Trio had elected not to return, and found it slightly disappointing. Who was he going to torture now?

He made sure to take his wolfsbane, but still every full moon he felt like there was something…someone calling him. Draco took to ignoring it. He elected to focus on his studies, or even quidditch to keep his mind off of the ache in his chest. The more he ignored it, however, the more difficult the wolf became. His new 'alter ego' was now able to talk to him for several days leading up to the full moon. When he was awake, the wolf would pester Draco nonstop about finding his mate, but once the moon passed his energy would fade forcing him into the back of Draco's mind.

Draco also quickly realized that he was more agitated just before the moon. This frustration took several forms. He was more quickly angered, irritable, and he also felt like he could run for hours and still have energy to burn. All this Draco could deal with, but he struggled with the overabundance of sexual frustration.

To combat the new sense of frustration, he had taken to sleeping with whatever witch would have him just before the change. A few days before the full moon he would find a pretty witch, and talk her up until he could convince her to share a bed. No matter the witch, though, it barely took the edge off. Draco had even resorted to sleeping with the occasional half-blood in the hopes they could appease him. His wolf would wait patiently until after the witch left the room before laughing at Draco's pathetic attempts. The beast would then remind him that he would always crave this mysterious mate, and that no other inferior witch would do. Draco had told the blasted dog to shut the fuck up.

Everything came to a head the day after the full moon on Easter break. Draco was recovering in his cottage when he heard the pop of apparation. Draco lifted his head from where he rested on the floral couch, and noticed a worried looking house elf standing in the sitting room.

The elf shifted from foot to foot, desperately twisting it's ears as it waited for Draco to acknowledge it. Normally, Draco would wait for a few minutes just to be rude to the creature, but there was something about this one's demeanor that prompted Draco to speak up quicker rather than later. "What is it Rumpa?" He sighed.

"Mistress Malfoy requests your presence in the east drawing room as quickly as possible." The elf squeaked, blinking his big green eyes at the blond.

"What for?" Draco prompted, sitting up on the couch and pulling on a pair of trousers he had stored under the cushions.

"There is a witch and two wizards in the home. They tracked mud all up the carpet, and Mistress wants Master Draco to see them." The elf replied. Draco shook his head, something wasn't adding up. His mother never bothered him the day after the full moon. Something wasn't right. Draco quickly put on his shirt, and waved his wand over his hair so that it was styled perfectly.

Once he was satisfied with his appearance, other than the seemingly permanent dark bags under his eyes, he took the elfs hand, "Lead the way Rumpa." The elf nodded, before disapparating them both with a snap of his long, bony fingers.

The elf dropped Draco off just outside the drawing room. Draco cracked his neck, straightening his sleeves and squaring his shoulders. There was no need to look disheveled. He didn't want to give any present Death Eaters any more ammunition about his newfound status than before. Oh, how the great Malfoy's had fallen. Draco sneered slightly, adjusting his cufflinks, one final time before stepping forward with his usually cool grace.

Standing just outside the door, Draco took one deep breath through his nose-with the intention of steadying his nerves-and immediately felt like his world had been tilted off kilter. Draco stumbled backward, looking like he had been punched in the gut, and leaned up against the opposite wall for support.

The smell. It was buried under the scent of sweat, fear, and earth, but it was still there. His heart began to pound erratically as he took another deep breath through his nose, clinging to the smell like a vine to the side of his cabin. It smelled perfect…like lavender and…cool autumn rain.

The scent roused the wolf within. The beast which normally would be dormant until the next moon cycle awoke within Draco's mind, and began to slam itself against his consciousness. MINE. The wolf called from within, but even without the barbaric, possessive proclamation Draco knew what lay beyond the door. His mate.

Draco steadied himself with a couple of breaths, allowing her scent to cling to his consciousness, immediately knowing that he had to see her. To see the woman who would fill the gaping hole in his chest. He could already feel the connection blooming in his heart. This woman, whoever she was, was going to help him build a life. Was going to help him create a family. Would be his other half in every way. Draco shook his head, determination erupting across his normally stoic features. He had to see her. He had to mark her as his before he lost her.

Rushing forward Draco grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. Draco pushed into the room with a cool confidence, wanting the woman's first glance of him to be of him in control. He needed to make a good first impression. Quickly his grey eyes scanned the room, taking stock of the snatchers…all men…who clung to their prisoners.

His heart began to clench when he realized that his mate wasn't a member of the guests in his house. He obstinately refused to look at the three people on their knees, praying he was wrong. He looked on the other side of the room, wanting more than anything for another guest to be hiding amongst the perfectly positioned furniture and rare antiques. The only other people in the room were his mother, father, Aunt, and Fenrir.

Draco felt panic rise in his chest. A feminine voice from behind him cried out in pain. There was only one other woman in the room, and she was currently being held by one of the snatchers. Draco felt like his entire world was shattering, his breath stolen from inside him making room for the panic that had begun to build. Slowly, he turned to face the prisoners, his mind grasping at straws while he did.

Maybe she was a no one. Maybe he could convince his father and mother to let her be his…well his prisoner. Maybe they would understand, and he could just keep her. He could probably afford to buy her from the snatchers, to keep her away from the ministry. He would just throw money at them until they left her here…with him. Where he could keep her safe from the dangers out there.

His eyes landed on bushy hair, and his vision blurred slightly. He hesitated, refusing to continue the downward sweep to who he knew was underneath that hair. No. He had to hope that she wasn't who he knew she was.

His mind worked through every scenario he could concoct as a way to have her. A way to protect her, whoever she was, from the Dark Lord. But when he finally lowered his gaze to stare at the witch, currently pulling against the man who forced her on her knees with unwavering defiance…he knew Lupin had been right.

He would never be able to have her, because the woman who resolutely fought against her captures on the other side of the room was the one woman that he could never have. The one woman he wouldn't be able to protect, no matter his status or galleons. The one woman who wouldn't have him even if he could look past her blood status. Harry Potter's best friend. The swot extrondianar.

Granger.

Idly he answered his father's questions when prompted. He tried to answer in a way to buy him some time. Time to figure out how to get her out of this mess, because if he could get her out of here at least she would survive. Before he could register what was being said his Aunt's voice was ricocheting off the walls as she hollered at the snatchers. His eyes tracked the scene unseeing while Weaslebee and Potter were dragged from the room, and his mate was hauled across the floor by his Aunt's grip on her thick hair.

The pain that pierced his chest was like nothing he had ever felt in his life. The pain outpaced that of both the torture curse and the change. Before he could stop the sound a whimper shot out of his mouth. Fenrir's face scrunched up at the sound, his eyes locking on Draco's before quickly looking between the blond and the mudblood currently on the floor. A look of recognition was quickly replaced by a feral gleam in the werewolf's eyes. He quickly asked Bellatrix if he could have her once the crazed witch was done. His aunt readily agreed.

Draco, half crazed at the thought of Fenrir touching his mate, started forward with every intention of killing the bastard. He was stopped by a leg-lock jinx before he made it two steps. Draco barely had time to register what happened to make his legs stop working when his mother crossed the room in a single brisk movement, stopping at his side.

"Imperio," His mother's voice called out, tight and tinged on the ends with regret, "You will stand here and you will remain still, my dragon. Don't you utter a single sound until you have been dismissed." Draco let the Imperius Curse wash over him, thankful to have his choices taken away before he did something that would get everyone he loved killed. He knew without a doubt his mother would fight to protect him, even putting herself in danger to do so, and that was something that Draco could not allow to happen.

So, Draco stood there and watched his Aunt torture his mate. His heart cracked with each sound of her screams and his soul broke when his Aunt pulled out the cursed dagger. He smelled the iron of her blood, and felt a single tear slide down his face at the same time one slid down hers. His wolf fought against the barrier inside his mind, but Draco focused on keeping the cage tightly locked. Reminding the wolf in reassuring tones that there was nothing they could do that wouldn't end up with both of them dead. The wolf disagreed and fought against him with even more vigor.

In the end, when Potter and Weasley took his mate from him with the aid of his former house-elf, Draco was relieved. His mother commanded him to fight, utilizing her control over him with the Imperius, but he barely moved. Only defending himself, one eye still trained on the brunette witch on the floor next to him. When it was all over, he didn't even care that Potter had taken his wand. He was just so thankful that the other wizards had taken her away from this house, away from him. Even if it meant that he could never have her.

Because he knew she would never forgive him for watching and doing nothing. Fuck…he couldn't even forgive himself.

A/N 2: I know I know...another Title change. I am sorry. This was the last one I promise. I wanted to tie back in the choices to the moon because well...this is a werewolf fic. I am sorry folks. I hope you forgive me!

A/N 3: Some responses to reviewers!

gypsyk!79: I hope you have enjoyed everything so far!

Tootytots1: I hope you are still enjoying my style and thank you so much for the review. I am trying to get inside their heads, and explain things from their perspective so thank you so much for recognizing that!

ashspence3: Thank you for your kind words. I do feel loads better!

Starearth: Your prayers must have worked...either that or the inhaler the hospital gave me...maybe both *shrugs*

Ardina Falconhurst: Thank you so much for your review and your kind words for my family. I passed it on to my husband and he says thank you too!

Asstronomy: You know Luna...no one can control that girl!

Guest: You're right that is your choice!