This is my second story, this is set after HBP. People and places belong to J.K Rowling. This idea just came to me. Some of the things I made up, like the details to werewolves. Review how you want.

Enjoy!

GREYBACK

It was late at the Malfoy manor. Fenrir and Draco were discussing the events at Hogwarts School, the death of Dumbledore. Draco had paid him the promised 500 galleons, a great price, but for his services, well earned.

Draco hadn't slept for days, if only an hour. The calm old face promising him protection against the dark side, every time he closed his eyes, that calm, yet pained old face. Snape pointing his wand and doing the unforgivable, the late headmaster falling, falling out the highest tower. He, Draco, being shoved aside from his duty, which he had worked for, got himself sick, cried into the company of a dead girl. All of that, and he couldn't do it, but no matter how much he didn't want to kill, his glory was stolen from Severes Snape. They had ran, ran for existence, Harry Potter chasing after them, then they apparated, to this very manor, and were safe. Snape was not happy, he had yelled and screamed, and then he left. And Draco was left alone; his mother was pleading her case for Draco's father, Lucius. Who was in Azkaban.

Draco was left with his grief, fighting with his own conscience, battling with his own mind. Then Greyback came for payment, it was all taken care of. Now they were in the drawing room.

Greyback was not happy, he had watched the boy shaking with fear at the prospect of killing, he was scared, weak. He quietly argued his case, trying to hide the anger at the boy's weakness; he didn't seem to know, though he was shaking. Greyback was hungry, he had tried to get that Weasley, though he had left him completely mangled, he hadn't got his kill. Now he would get his kill.

"The full moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Sure" Draco looked towards the man staring out the window, a small worry settled in the pit of his stomach. Surly he would have taken some sort of potion? Draco started to pour out the white wine, just getting the substance into the crystal glass, his hand shaking. Just like on that fateful night. He shook his head, he wouldn't loose control.

"Any, uh, red wine?" Greyback asked, failing miserably to get the hunger out of his voice. Draco looked at him again with slight suspicion, his sandy eyebrow raised, his grey eyes, so much like his father's, looking towards the hunched man, and he could swear he could see saliva dripping of a pointed yellow tooth. "No, my father loved red wine, so we don't keep it anymore" his voice broke near the end. "Oh, well, we can make, substitutes" he started to breath heavily, kind of like a growl; he rubbed his hands together, moving towards the handsome white blonde teenager. "Wh- what do you mean?" "Oh I think you know" Draco was backed against the wall now. Greyback moved so the blue light, from the full moon, poured over him.

Draco understood now, his eyes widened in fear, all thoughts of Dumbledore, and Potter, and Snape pushed out of him. He hadn't.

The werewolf threw back his head, and sent out a haunting howl. His pointed back pushed out of his shirt, forming a larger hunch with long spine showing, his arms and legs grew, pushing through his trousers, hands and feet growing into grey paws. His shoes ripped apart. His neck stretched and a mouth grew into a snout, sharp fangs pointing threw. His hair gone to reveal wolf fur. And there he stood, yellow eyes reflecting the paralysed boy.

His white hands twisted at the doorknob, franticly, he went into his shirt pocket, looking for his wand. The werewolf slashed at Draco's chest, knocking the wand into the air with droplets of pureblood. He gasped and put a hand to his now bleeding chest. He stuttered "N-now, Fenrir, I paid you, we had- had a deal" A growl of a voice came out, though werewolves cant speak, he was so far forward, that he had learned to take control. "I want to be paid in blood" He stepped closer. Draco was shaking uncontrollably. "You're going to kill me?" He grinned a wolf grin. "Your damned right"

He bound forward, Draco screamed and jumped out the way, the werewolf hit the door. Draco looked around frantically, the wolf jumped on his back and pushed him around so they were face to face, he plunged his jaws forward. Draco pulled a chair toward him and smashed him round the head. The wolf shook his head but didn't move. He opened his jaws wide, but…

Draco grabbed the broken table leg and shoved it in his mouth, pushing with all his might; he then kicked the wolf of his body. He crawled across the floor and then found his feet. His heart was beating triple the speed to its usual melody. He grabbed

for his wand but the wolf started to gallop toward him.

It was like slow motion as the boy whose sweat was dripping from his handsome

features, grabbed the flowered vase from the window ledge and smashed it across the head of upcoming death. He yelped and fell to the floor. He was bleeding, Draco hoped upon hope that he was knocked out. But as that last shred of light came to him, it was blown away as the arm twitched and the eyes looked at him with hate. There was one last escape, the window.

He jumped, and crashed through the frosted glass, shards fell around him, cutting his pale flesh. He fell heavily upon the ground, but no time was spared as he came to his feet and sprinted, with all his strength and speed. He kept going, though his breath was burning his throat, though his insides were screaming for a sweet release, though blood was dripping from slight wounds, he kept going. He could hear the gallop of the hungry werewolf. Then he could see it, the cool water of the manor lake, it was his last hope.

He dived into the freezing cold waters, his body curved in the water and he broke the surface gasping for air, his white blond hair stuck to his head, it was a good thing he was a good swimmer. He froze, not from the water, but from fear, he was too tired to move, he could only hope. The werewolf sniffed at the water, then yelped as his paw touched the water. Then he let out a mournful howl. "You were lucky this time, Malfoy, but I will come again" And with that he was gone.

Draco was confused, but then a rhyme that his mother used to say to him when he was a child came to him. Cats hate water though a sphinx will play; dogs love water though a werewolf will stay away. He whopped and splashed the water; he did a backward roll under the water then swam to the shore. He picked his way carefully to the place he called home, dripping wet, all thoughts of fear pushed out of him from the happiness of survival. Never to trust another again.