In the Malfoy Manor Zafyre had no escape from her nightmarish existence. When she was awake she had to contend with being nothing more than an animal, but in sleep the memories that haunted her were far worse and every day provided more fodder for her mind to torture her with in the nights to come.

But tonight was different. Instead of the usual jumble of past, present and future events and fears her vision was clear and she thought it was real, it had been real. It was a warm summer evening and all around her there were smiling faces - the faces she loved, the same faces she had always known. Her family. Despite dark times the mood was light, jovial, even celebratory. All raised their glasses to a newborn baby.

But the happy scene changed. Glasses shattered as strangers entered the room. There was blood, blood everywhere and people screaming, running, fighting for their lives. She was scared - her family tried to resist but it was useless. There were flashes of green and dead faces. All she loved were dying around her, their eyes open but staring at nothing.

She tried to fight, but they laughed at her. She didn't understand what was going on - it wasn't in her power to understand as her family were murdered by the laughing figures in black robes. She was bound by one and watched as those who had fled were caught, returned and executed. She screamed, she howled, she didn't want to see, didn't want to hear each dull thud as another body hit the ground. Enyana was shouting and shrieking at them - she was still alive, this was all done because of her, because she wouldn't degrade herself to save them. Her family wouldn't let her.

Once the rest were dead they tortured Enyana. Her body was ripped and torn until she wasn't Enyana any more, she was alive but unbroken. She spat at her torturers as a final act of defiance. Then they killed her with a word, a word that was still unclear. Her body burned to nothing, but even at the last she wouldn't give in and she called his name, the one she had died for, 'Sirius!'

One reached into a piled of grey ash and removed her engagement ring. He put it inside his robes, snapped the wand that Enyana had used to defend herself and threw it contemptuously on the mound.

All that was left was a cobalt rith. As the last of her family she was going to go down with the dignity of her family. She curled her lips and readied her fangs to take some of the scum with her.

* * * * *

Narcissa Malfoy watched as her pet writhed and twitched in dreams and wondered, not for the first time, what it is that dogs dream about. She swirled the honey coloured wine absent-mindedly in its glass and gazed blankly into the fire.

She remembered the day when Lucius had brought Zafyre home, said he got her from an old friend. She'd had her hands full with Draco - the terrible twos for a young Malfoy put other tots to shame. He was a headstrong young fiend whose only ambition was to get his own way. He was much like his father and someday it was going to cause a clash one day once Draco realised how strong he was and that he didn't have to bend under his father's iron will.

When Lucius had brought Zafyre back the poor creature had looked so frightened, so unsure that for once she'd found something that really needed her.

She'd loved watching Draco and Zafyre play when Draco was still a little boy. Zafyre had endless patience with the child's pinching and poking, but it was the day they first met that stuck most firmly in her mind.

She'd waited until Lucius had gone to work, things were always so much calmer when he wasn't around. Zafyre had been at the Mansion for over a week, but kept away from the main house until she'd gotten used to her new masters. She'd left Draco playing on the grass in the summer sunshine while she collected the rith.

The creature was still unsure of her surroundings, but had shown no malice towards anyone. Still, Narcissa kept her wand close at hand just in case, she didn't want to risk any harm to her little boy.

Both rith and child had studied each other curiously for a while before Zafyre, on all four feet, had advanced towards Draco sniffing gently as if she couldn't quite work out what he was and if he was dangerous. When she got within inches of his face the boy slapped the rith on her striped muzzle. The wolf jumped backwards in shock. She sat back on her haunches, her head cocked to one side, regarding the boy with some confusion and occasionally looking up at Narcissa as if for guidance, her ears pricked and their long white tufts blowing in the breeze. Suddenly a light seemed to dawn, Zafyre's feathery tail began to wag and she flattened with her front paws wide in a 'play with me' position before capering around Draco like a mad puppy.

Draco had laughed at the creature's antics before joining in the game. Narcissa had watched them with the simple pleasure of watching innocents at play and Draco's obvious fascination with the rith's marbled colour pattern, tracing the stripes and swirls with a chubby hand.

Being the heir of the Malfoy family, Narcissa doubted if the young boy would have his innocence much longer, so she was going to appreciate it while it lasted. Draco had fallen asleep with his head on Zafyre's flank and his fingers curled in her soft fur. The rith laid her head on her paws and tried to move as little as possible so she wouldn't disturb the child.

It wasn't like she didn't love Lucius - he's given her everything she could've ever desired - but a leopard an never change its spots, and a Malfoy's spots ran deeper than most. What chance did her poor little boy have? His father held a powerful influence over him - she hadn't realised how powerful until Draco was six years old.

She'd been upstairs when she'd heard the scream. She'd raced downstairs to find that Lucius had already assessed the situation and was handling it. His voice was coldly calm.

'How many times have I told you not to play with knives?'

Knives? She heard Draco whimper - his father's deadly calm was infinitely more frightening to the boy than a rage, but Lucius had no patience with a child's fear, 'Get out of my sight.'

The boy ran past her without noticing her with tears in his eyes and, she was horrified to see, blood on his hands. She'd helped Draco clean himself up and found out that he wasn't hurt, but she could get no sense out of him about what had happened. She'd shut him in his room and went back downstairs.

Lucius was still in the study where the incident had happened. Narcissa blanched. There was blood everywhere, but mainly on the floor. In the centre of all the spreading stains was Zafyre clutching at her face.

Lucius had had done apparently nothing to help the writhing rith, but what he had been doing was obvious from the little bottles of deep red liquid on his desk. No one could ever say that Lucius Malfoy wasted opportunities. He watched the creature's agony with a sick sort of satisfaction.

Narcissa knelt down, careful to avoid getting stains on her expensive dress, and talked softly to Zafyre. She could see blood oozing from between the rith's stubby claws, red on black, dripping onto the carpet. She managed to prise the gory paws away from Zafyre's mutilated face. Two deep gashes, one stretching from jaw to brow and the other across her sensitive muzzle, disfigured her once attractive countenance.

She blamed Lucius for bleeding Zafyre in front of the impressionable young Draco but said nothing for fear of incurring her husband's wrath. Draco lost his innocence that day, and Zafyre lost her trust.

Narcissa covered up the gashes the same way she did with the bleed marks - via a concealment spell. She would have got rid of them but she was no dab hand with charms or potions, so she covered them up in the hope that no one would ever find them. But now someone had.

She was snapped out of her reverie by her husband's entry into the room. She invited him wordlessly over to sit with her. Lucius smiled at his wife, but it was a smile that would have chilled the hearts of others. Narcissa had grown immune to Lucius's intimidating countenance, but Zafyre sure hadn't. Normally, even when asleep, the rith seemed to sense his presence and would tense away from him. In younger years Zafyre had actually seemed to go out of her way to defy Lucius, but those days were long dead. He was not one to confront if you were in his power and had used awful ways to put the wolf back in her place.

Zafyre was like Narcissa's second child and she'd always believed the rith to be a lot cleverer than she had let on, but when Lucius had brought her back up from the hidden dungeons the last time, her back was stripped bare and her eyes so lost and dull, it had wrenched her heart but she had known better than to show it. Even though Lucius had got someone to get rid of the scars there were echoes of them in the rith's bright blue eyes, and something deeper too.

Despite normality Zafyre slept on, her dream too vivid and terrifying to let the disturbances of reality to creep in. But the sounds outside became part of the nightmare - footsteps on the carpet became that of the enemy advancing toward her, the air current of a husband reaching out to his wife was the drawing of the wand that poised to kill her. But she was going to give him something to remember her by.

Narcissa noticed the change, the quickening in Zafyre's breathing, the slowing of dream convulsions, the lips drawing back, the muscles tensing and she tried to warn Lucius.

Too late.

With the speed of a striking snake Zafyre twisted her body and leapt up, jaws agape and finding their mark.

Blood fresh and sweet ran over her tongue and she savoured the taste, biting harder and tearing the tender flesh. Her eyes opened and met Lucius's pain frozen face as her jagged, bone-crushing teeth pushed further through the yielding muscles of his arm. She loosened her grip slightly as reality flooded back into her brain, but this time she wasn't going to surrender. She pushed in harder and was rewarded by a fresh spurt of blood into her mouth and a cry of agony from her master. Blood for blood.

Narcissa watched frozen in horror as Zafyre, her gentle Zafyre, shifted her jaw grip and began to shake her husband's arm like a rat, a twisted smile on her savage face and liquid like red wine spilling from the sides of her mouth onto the expensive carpet like the reverse of what happened years ago.

It was over in seconds. Lucius balled his fist and caught Zafyre a terrible blow that sent her flying across the room to hit against the opposite wall. Multicoloured spots and stripes danced before her eyes, but she almost laughed. She had finally done what she had wanted to for thirteen years and she didn't care any more. She licked her lips so she would remember the taste for the rest of her life. The blood of rabbits and rats seemed bitter in comparison. So this was why werewolves went looking for human prey.

Narcissa immediately tried to help her husband staunch the flow from his bleeding limb, but he wanted no help. His mangled arm hung uselessly by his side and he was in a towering rage. She shuddered when she saw Zafyre lick her lips - there was no remorse for what she had done. In fact she seemed rather pleased with herself. She just hoped this wasn't a prelude to Draco's rebellion.

'I'm taking that damned creature down to the dungeons and if it dies before the trial then so be it!'

Lucius would have his revenge on the wolf that dared to taste the pure blood of the Malfoy family, but not in front of his gentle wife who would not be able to stand some of the punishments that he had in mind. Zafyre sat grinning to herself as if nothing could touch her.