Hello hello omg I'm so sorry for the slow update, but hey ho, I adore this story and even if I have no readers it will continue! A warning to you all that there is mention of self harm in this chapter so please be aware! Love you all and take care x
It's the full moon.
The first thought in Draco's head, as the clock turned to six o'clock in the morning. It was the worst time of the month for Draco, his night of torture and never ending rage, all because of a mistake he hadn't even made himself. Draco hated hearing girls complain about their 'time of the month' in the corridors passing, making him grit his teeth and bite his tongue. You think a bit of stomach ache is hard? Try breaking every bone in your body as you lose your own mind and become a horrific beast for the night.
Draco was bitter to say the least, but there was another problem that was new to him now he had come back to Hogwarts.
Voldemort had forbidden that Draco take any Wolfsbane to make his transformations easier. He made sure no one during the summer gave it to him, and he forbade Draco or his mother to inform Hogwarts of his condition, so Draco would have great difficulty concealing his transformations to still be a member of not just the school, but society. Only Professor Snape knew of Draco being a werewolf, and was under instruction from Voldemort to keep an eye on him and make sure he was not helped by anyone. This was the first full moon where all these rules had become a reality as he had only ever transformed in the basement under Malfoy Manner, where he could scratch and kick the walls and himself as much as he liked. Draco had no idea how to control himself when he was transformed, he could barely remember them anyway, they all became one haze of darkness.
He had planned to sneak out during the night and go to the forbidden forest, but he'd have to be extra careful. He knew that big oaf Hagrid was completely devoted to caring for the god forsaken lump of trees, and if he or any of his regular visitors saw him right before he transformed he was doomed, and they would be too. He planned to use an invisibility spell, but since the night he was bitten, his magic had been failing him. Draco hated to admit it, but he felt completely and utterly traumatised by the whole event, and he was damn sure any other person would. He was not well in his mind, and even his werewolf side felt it too. Draco's arms were always littered with oddly neat scratches that he could never explain when he came to, but he had come to a deflating conclusion that it was his werewolf's minds own doing. It made him feel incredibly vulnerable and weak, almost as if he wasn't even the full ferocious werewolf he was supposed to be, just a dodgy copy.
But this was his only plan for tonight's full moon to go as smoothly as possible, so there was no room for his magic failing him tonight. Draco knew that none of his lessons today would be any use to him, as his mind would be totally focused on transforming, the anxiety during the day was always drowning.
Draco ate dinner that evening that was fit for toddler, the tinniest portion he could get away with without it drawing attention. He left with everyone else, got ready for and into bed with everyone else, but he would not sleep. Draco managed to sneak out of bed without anybody noticing as they had all drawn their curtains around their beds (no one was very sociable in his dormitory) and headed downstairs.
Draco only had to dodge Filch, which was the easiest thing in the world, and the time came to perform his invisibility spell. Draco mustered all the energy he could find from his somewhat frail body and mind, and managed to mutter the incantation incredibly quietly. Draco felt the magic in his wand, and looked down expectantly. Upon realising that he had been successful, he had had to stifle his sigh of relief, he was almost there.
The grass made soft rhythmical whispers under his feet as he headed towards the forbidden forest, and Draco could already feel the full moon rising as twilight drew to a close, he picked up the pace. His breath kept catching in his throat, as a mixture of exhaustion and panic made breathing a difficult task. Hagrid's hut was soon behind him, which felt like a huge milestone, and as he reached the first layer of the forest, he felt the ripples of change happening in his body. The pain would be here any second, and Draco began to run so his screams would be less audible to anyone not far from the forest. Draco felt his foot catch on the root of a tree, and as he tumbled to the ground, he felt his body being taken over by the beast.
All his bones began to break, the cracking sound reverberated off the huge trees surrounding him. Next came Draco's screams, white hot pain filling every ounce of his body, blinding him and cancelling out anything he might have heard. He felt his mouth stretching out and his larynx crying out for him to stop, but the pain was always too much, it never got any better with any transformation. He saw the ground grow further away from him as his bones grew longer and his body change. Draco felt his mind slipping, the normal conscience was being swallowed by the werewolf's, buried until the moon would finally disappear. He felt the anger taking over, all rational thoughts left his mind as quickly as they came, even words were lost from his trail of thought. The rage and the violence was here, the werewolf hungry for hunt and attack, blood and gore, and to release the howl. One thing remained however, one painful image that the wolf couldn't comprehend, perhaps an emotion he couldn't describe in anyway, something that made his chest ache and his movements slower. Sadness, was the only word the wolf had left in his mind.
Hagrid rolled over in his bed, feeling rather restless, when he heard some distant cry from the direction of the forbidden forest. This cry was a pained cry, like something was under attack. Hagrid furrowed his brows at the unusual tone of the next few cries, this cry sounded almost like…a human. He shot up in bed, his emergency instincts turned on and ready to take any action necessary. His mind wandered back to that night when Harry had run into an although weakened Voldemort in the forbidden forest, and he shuddered. He had no choice but to investigate tonight, he wouldn't let anyone come that close to danger under his watch again, especially after he nearly lost his job over that idiot Malfoy and his run in with Buckbeak.
Hagrid gathered his dragonhide coat, his pink 'umbrella', and a few other weapons including his favourite bow and arrow. Fang was no weapon, just a friend for moral support, and in case anything happened to Hagrid, he could report to the head master. He stepped out into the cooler September night, the full moon shining down on the treetops making them look silver, and began taking big strides towards the edge of the forest. The cries had died down now, but what Hagrid heard next as he entered the forest troubled him even more.
Cutting right through the silence of the evening, was a werewolf's howl. The howl was long but did not sound confident, almost troubled as if it was injured. Hagrid tread incredibly carefully, he could tell this werewolf was not using wolfsbane and was therefore not in its right mind, and he knew how easily they could kill in their blind rage. Hagrid used his oil lamp to light the way, and cursed himself for not oiling the squeaky hinges on the handle that marked his every step.
The forest was silent, and Hagrid stopped to make sure his footsteps were not muffling other sounds. After a minute or so of only the sound of his own breathing and Fang's loud drooling, Hagrid began to walk again, this time going a little more west. It was then he saw blood marked against a tree on his left, and with one sniff Hagrid knew it was the werewolf's. This made Hagrid worry not about the state of the werewolf itself, but what had managed to injure it that was nearby in the forest. A few more blood stains later and Hagrid could hear movement, he knew he must be close to the beast. Hagrid never really got scared in the forest as he knew the creatures so well, but this night was one of his most intense visits to the forest, one where he knew there was a chance he may not leave it alive. As Hagrid approached an opening, places where larger and more dangerous creatures tended to rest, he began stopping to hide behind trees so he was less likely to be spotted.
He saw its silvery long back first, just making out its fine fur. Another glance further around the tree and he could see the blood stains, all up the werewolf's arms, staining that perfect white fur. The wolf was hunched over on a rock, breathing faster than normal, and obviously injured. But Hagrid had never seen a werewolf so calm before, so unmoving, it should have smelt Hagrid by now and would be sniffing around for him. This was an experience he would never forget. The wolf's head was hung low, a look of shame upon the part of its face Hagrid could see, what had the wolf been through to look so ashamed?