Author's Note :
Hi.
So… it's been a while.
6 years ago, I started posting a story called "Scar Tissue" on this website. And in spite of my boycott of JK Rowling, I was engulfed in an endless pit of nostlagia a couple weeks ago. I watched the Harry Potter movies again… Earlier today, I re-dowloaded the HP mobile game… And most scandalous of all, because I'm still very much Dramione trash, I thought it would be a good idea to go back and re-read one of my first fanfics. Needless to say I am absolutely baffled. Baffled that I got any encouragement whatsoever over that piece of garbage writing. You guys are truly the kindest people out there.
Anyways. Here's a rewrite of my rewrite of Harry Potter. Bet you didn't see that coming… never let them know your next move.
Let's see if my writing's better than it used to be (dear god please spare me).
So, for the non-initiated :
- English is not my first language
- This is a rewrite of HP starting with Prisoner of Azkaban
- Let's hope I'll get somewhere close to the end this time
- The first (incredibly cringy) version of this story is still up -I don't want to lose all the lovely comments- if you want to go throw up over it
- Since my first publication of this story I got a full-time job and other activities, so I don't know if I'll get to update this often, yes I am an adult so here's to that
- the werewolves in this story have the same appearance as Lupin in the movie. I know there's a debate around them but I personally really like their monstrous appearance, it makes them more frightening and impressive than the way they are described in the books, I think.
- in the first version of this story, I was working on it chapter by chapter, there was less planning than… anything else really, I only had a few key points figured out. So in this rewrite I am establishing the relationships differently, everything is more prepared, and some relationships might change (for example Draco and Pansy being childhood best friend, which I didn't get to do in the first version because I was too eager and wrote them as school friends instead). Anyway I think that's it - I might change some chapters title also but it doesn't really matter
- I've just remembered, a month after starting the rewrite, that werewolves are not impacted by magic, so this prologue might be rewritten a third time – let's just ignore this detail for now…..
"But who is it?" Draco asked for the third time, and Lucius knew there would be a fourth. But he didn't roll his eyes, he didn't sigh, he didn't even say anything; his son didn't need to know.
They crossed a courtyard to reach a large wooden door. The burning torches on each side were reflecting on the cold and humid stones and their steps were resonating against the high walls surrounding them.
Lucius didn't have to make his presence known, the door opened as they reached it and the Malfoys entered the castle.
Draco was trying to walk as fast as his father, but he sometimes had to trot to catch up. He wasn't looking around, he wasn't asking anything anymore, not since they had stepped in the habitation. He was only keeping an eye on the hair cascading on his father's shoulders and back, which was almost the only discernable thing in these somber corridors and stairs.
.
They finally arrived to the last door Draco would cross that evening. It opened and he discovered a lighted, vast living room. A fire was burning in the chimney and the large couch in front of it was calling for him to sit down and snack, even if there were only fruits on the small table. Lucius gestured towards it, as if reading his son's mind.
"You will wait here. But don't eat too much, you know your mother is waiting for us."
Draco's grin almost softened Lucius' features, but he was here to work. Draco glanced as his father entered and walked towards another door in the room. He was about to walk in the living room too when he heard a loud but muffled noise coming from far away in the habitation, as if something big had fallen on the floor somewhere else in the castle. He looked over his shoulder at the dark corridor and felt like it was about to swallow him whole. He quickly entered the room and pushed the door closed. His father had already disappeared in the office connected to the sitting room and Draco ran to the couch.
.
As he pushed another orange piece in his mouth, balancing his legs back and forth and looking around at the different paintings on the walls, Draco pondered about what he would do once back home. He mindlessly pressed his fingers on the padded couch as if they were running on piano keys. He would probably play a bit with his mother before eating his supper, and after eating he would study with his father. It had been raining all day long, so Lucius had refused to fly with his son. Draco was wishing for the sun to shine as bright as possible the next day when he heard some noise again. He turned to the door and stopped breathing, as if he would hear better, but no sound came to him.
His fingers still pressed hard on his seat, the boy closed his eyes and breathed slowly. It was a castle, the owner probably didn't leave alone. It was probably nothing, it was probably a servant. Probably. His father didn't like when he used that word too much. Something about being confident whenever he spoke, something about being sure of who he was and whatever he said.
When a low growl reached his ears from behind the door, he lost even the smallest amount of confidence he could have ever had.
He jumped back on the couch when something hit the heavy door so hard he thought it was going to fall over. He quickly looked in the direction of the office behind the couch before the door was hit once again.
"Father!" He called out, unable to leave his spot. He couldn't feel his legs anymore and his fingers were grabbing at the couch so hard he might as well have torn the fabric. "Dad!" He called again in a strangled cry.
When the door was ejected from its hinges, broken in two, Draco's body was shaking hard. Tears were rolling down his face as he watched the large werewolf slowly walk in the room, sniffing the air.
.
In the office, Karl Xeep, the owner of the place, was sitting behind his desk, his eyes fluttering between the clock and Lucius. He was a scrawny, scruffy man who didn't fit quite right with his habitation or his family. The man had lost his colours and healthy appearance after becoming a Death Eater. He was only the empty shell of the man he once was.
That night, Xeep had given his servants the exact time they had to free his younger brother from his cage. He had promised them security, but what was another lie to those squibs? He didn't care if his brother had torn them apart, as long as he followed the enchanted bait to the living room. But Xeep had to be precise; ten seconds too late and the boy would be dead. He had to drop the Quietus charm he had put on the room at the right moment. Everything had to work the way they had rehearsed it for months.
When he dropped the spell, a shriek reached Lucius and Xeep. The father was on his feet at once, and at the door just as fast. When they entered the room, Lucius, stunned in that instant, watched his son's body dangling from the beast's maw. The werewolf shook its head and let go of Draco, who was thrown directly against a wall. Not content with this first assault, the beast was already launching itself towards its victim.
This time, Lucius reacted.
"Arresto Momentum!"
The werewolf, so fast and so strong, was now moving in slow-motion. It wouldn't last, and Lucius just wanted enough time to protect his son. He never stopped moving his wand between the spells, he never took another second to think, and he didn't say another word as he casted Repello Inimicum to create a barrier around Draco, followed by Bombarda Maxima towards the beast and the wall. The effects were immediate. The large explosions demolished the wall, pieces of bricks flying everywhere and bouncing off the protection around Draco, while the werewolf was propelled through the gap. They heard a yap as it landed in the garden and Xeep hurried towards the hole in the wall while Lucius was right by his son's side.
.
The boy was on the floor, clothes torn and face sweaty. His blood, strewn on the carpet and the floor, kept coming out of his wound. Lucius didn't know where to begin to help Draco, he didn't even dare touch him. His grimace was barely capable of translating the amount of pain he was in. With a swift movement, Lucius had undone his cape and removed it from his shoulders to press it on the wound. Teeth gritted, hands shaking and sweat rolling down his face, he looked up at his host who was still standing near the hole.
Leaning against the wall, Xeep was staring down at the knocked out beast in the garden, waiting to perceive even the smallest movement. He heard Lucius call, but he waited. And finally, his brother moved. The beast got up, shook itself before it ran away, disappearing in the darkness of the forest behind the castle. Only then did Xeep leave his spot.
He almost ran towards the Malfoys, wanting his tone reassuring.
"It's gone, the beast is gone!"
He started to kneel near Draco when Lucius grabbing him by the collar. He was slammed against the wall, fingers tight around his throat and the tip of a wand deep under his chin.
"Why?" Lucius asked through his teeth.
Xeep, who until then had looked both shocked and scared, decided to finally drop the facade. He grabbed Lucius' forearm, nails digging through his clothes in his old mark. His thin lips contorted into a grin of dirty teeth and Lucius loosened his grip to let the man speak.
"It was you," Xeep spat. "It was you who turned him."
A hint of incomprehension flashed across Lucius' face in the form of a frown, before the realisation hit.
"His foolishness is what got your brother cornered, not me," he stated coldly.
"It was you," Xeep repeated. "You denounced him."
"I had nothing to denounce!" Lucius snapped. He closed his eyes and stretched his neck to try and contain his anger. He couldn't waste so much time arguing. "I did as I was told and I reported on the mission but I didn't send Greyback after him. He almost got us killed. He was punished for his own wrongdoings."
"And how will I be punished for this?" Xeep asked, still smiling as he gestured towards the innocent child on the floor.
Lucius slowly turned his head to look at his son and Xeep felt the grip on his throat tighten once more.
"For what you've done I should kill you," Lucius articulated in a murmur and Xeep maniacally laughed.
Lucius violently threw Karl on the floor. He fell on all fours and Lucius watched as this wreck of a man coughed and laughed, saliva on the chin and greasy hair hiding his eyes.
"Save him," Lucius ordered. "Save him and I'll spare you."
Xeep snorted and dragged his weak body towards the boy, hands shaking with excitement.
"Don't worry," he said with glee, "I never meant to kill your boy, Malfoy."
He removed Lucius' cape from the injured body before he slipped his hand in his jacket and got out a small vial containing the mixture he needed. It was composed of powdered silver and dittany that would seal the wound and stop the bleeding.
"Otherwise, how would you get a taste of my suffering?" Xeep continued as he started to apply the mixture on the fresh injury.
Draco let out a weak moan of pain and Lucius rushed back to his side. He placed a hand on his son's burning face and stared at his gleaming skin, his thumb slowly caressing his pale cheek.
"It's alright, Draco," he whispered, "you'll be just fine…"
"Believe me, he won't," Karl couldn't help but say. Lucius' eyes were enough to convey his fury, but it only got Xeep excited again. "It's gonna be one hell of a night," he said before he started to laugh again.
Lucius looked down at the man's dirty hands and grabbed his arm to push him away. He didn't want him anywhere near his son ever again.
On the floor, Karl kept on laughing while Lucius carefully wrapped his son in his large cape before he lifted him off the ground to leave this godawful place behind.
.
Dobby opened the manor's doors when he felt the presence when he felt his masters' presence. He stayed behind one of them to welcome them back, afraid of getting pushed out of the way. But instead of watching Lucius Malfoy walk in with his boy on his hells, he watched as Lucius reached the doors, his son hidden in his arms. His large green eyes lingered on the small hand dangling out of the cape before he ran away, disappearing after a few steps to go and alert Narcissa.
Lucius walked in and immediately climbed the large stairs in the entrance, his eyes on Draco's face. He disappeared in the dark hallway leading to his son's bedroom, already able to hear his wife's rapid footsteps echoing in the house. Dobby was back, opening Draco's door to let Lucius walk in. He got a glimpse of his unfathomable expression and stayed hidden again as his master walked towards Draco's bed.
"Lucius!" Narcissa cried out breathlessly as she reached the door. Her husband didn't answer.
He placed Draco on his bed and kept a hand under his head before he pulled away the cape to let it fall on the wooden floor. Narcissa had come closer, carefully, afraid of what she might envision.
Right now, even with all the blood, the ripped clothes and his chest deeply moving up and down, Draco looked almost peaceful, so tiny on his huge bed. There was no grimace on his face anymore, the fever keeping him too disoriented and knocked out to really feel anything. Lucius ran his fingers through Draco's hair, again, and again, and again, slowly, softly, listening to Narcissa's muffled gasp, feeling her get on her knees next to the bed. He watched her hand reach Draco's to hold it tight and he finally glanced at her. She was covering her mouth, each tear crashing against her fingers, not able to cover a single one of sobs.
It took Lucius a minute before he could finally place his hand on her back, and she could finally look at him. Lucius was staring at his son. While his eyes were watering, he wasn't breaking. His jaw was clenched, his neck about to explode from the cries he was keeping in his throat, but he wouldn't break. He was now holding both their hands and Narcissa found the courage to move. She got closer to her husband, just to find the comfort of his stature, just to know everything was going to be alright. She let her head rest on his shoulder, vision of her baby blurry from the tears rolling down her cheeks.
