Title: The Secret's In The Telling
Authoress: Sakuri
Rating: T
Summary: Draco Malfoy, pureblood and Slytherin prince, suffers the unthinkable when he is attacked and bitten by Remus Lupin. How is he supposed to live any kind of life afterwards, especially when Potter continues to stick his unwanted nose into things? DMHP, SSRL
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one
Chapter 4: Do You So Swear?
xxx
Severus Snape had been living in hell for over twelve hours now. With Albus busy running the school, and Minerva appointed to keep an eye on the werewolf who had caused this mess, it had been left to himself and Poppy to watch over Draco, and together they had sat up with him through the night.
The boy's condition had deteriorated so fast it had almost sent the formidable Potions Master into panic. For hours Draco had suffered through the unpredictable attacks of agony as the magical disease surged through him, and each attack lasted longer than the last.
Afterwards, in his exhaustion, he would be too tired to rage and yell, and instead fixed Severus with wordless looks of betrayal, silently asking to be freed, instead of caged like an animal. At first, Severus had tried to explain, but had soon found it useless. Draco had long moved past lucidity, and would only work himself into fits of fury or panic.
The Potions Master had both hoped for and dreaded the rise of the full moon. Part of him urged the hours to go faster, if only to speed up Draco's transformation and end his suffering. Another part of him had no idea how he was going to deal with the creature his godson was to become.
His disdain for Lupin's kind was common knowledge. His fear was a lesser known fact.
Of all the creatures in the magical world, it was werewolves that scared him – though this was only something he'd admit to silently, in the safety of his own mind.
Poppy had been as helpful as she was able, but there was really very little either of them could do. It did faintly disturb him, though, how protective the nurse had started to act. He didn't know if she was the same with other patients, and frankly didn't care, but it was something else entirely to watch her play mother hen to a Malfoy.
Especially this Malfoy…
And so, when the sun finally did set, and the silvery glow of the full moon became the main source of light, Severus found himself standing as far away from the cage as he could. Poppy stood next to him, and they watched in morbid fascination as the change began.
All at once it started. Draco, who had been dozing after yet another ten minutes of painful convulsions, suddenly gasped. His eyes flashed open and he cried out in what may have been pain, but the scream turned quickly into a deep, resounding howl. As the moonlight touched him, seeping in through the small window in one wall of the ward, he transformed.
His face was the first thing to alter, lengthening into a long, vicious muzzle, filled with teeth meant to kill. Ears pulled back, becoming canine, as did his eyes, their colour becoming such an icy blue they were almost colourless. The flimsy hospital pyjamas they'd dressed him in soon ripped at the seams as Draco's body shifted and changed, gaining mass and muscle. The ties binding his wrists also fell away without difficulty. Claws erupted from his fingertips and toes, and a tail formed at the base of his backbone. The trademark Malfoy blond hair paled even further, and sprouted across the rest of his body, until silvery fur entirely covered the newly formed werewolf.
The metamorphosis was terrible to watch, even to Severus, who had observed the distasteful transformations brought on by polyjuice and similar potions. He shuddered slightly when it was over, and Draco lay quietly, a limb occasionally twitching in the aftershock.
Hesitantly, the two adults drew nearer the cage, their curiosity evident, and in Severus's case, almost equal to his revulsion.
Draco was smaller than Lupin, but that wasn't exactly a surprise. Even so, Severus could tell that when he stood, he'd be large enough to give pause to any experienced witch or wizard. He was also almost pure white, surely a rarity among lycanthropes, who tended towards black or the common brown. Thin and long legged, even in this form, the Potions Master could guess he'd be horribly fast when he chose to be.
Swiftly, he stepped back again.
The nurse looked at him, her expression giving away the amazement she was trying to hide. "What are we going to do? Just stay here with him?"
Wordless, he nodded. There was nothing else to be done, really.
"What about tomorrow night? And the months after that? Severus, we can't continue to lock him up like this!"
He glared at her impatiently. "I realise that. This measure is only temporary. Tomorrow we will see if he can stay in his right mind through the transformation. If so, the cage will no longer be needed."
The nurse nodded absently. "Where is he going to stay? Of course, he's perfectly welcome to remain here, the poor love, but I'm not certain he'd enjoy –"
The Professor snorted. "No, I somehow doubt he'd be content to remain here. I shall talk to Albus about finding him his own room to be occupied this time of the month."
xxx
Long hours later – hours which Draco only vaguely remembered – he woke, blinking dazedly, just in time to find Severus tossing a blanket roughly in his direction, which hit him squarely in the face before settling over the rest of him.
Opening his mouth to protest the undignified treatment, it came as a shock to hear his own voice emerge scratchy and barely audible. He coughed and looked down at himself, realising to his horror that the blanket was the only thing covering him. Clutching at it, he looked up to see the slyly amused Professor step back out of the large metal cage that was surrounding him.
That was when memory hit. He paled rapidly, his embarrassment at his state of undress forgotten.
"Draco." The Potion Master's deep voice caught his attention, steadying him for the moment. Severus stood holding open the cage for him, waiting expectantly. "I'm not going to stand here forever," he snapped abruptly, his tone, as always, impatient.
That, more than any reassurances Madam Pomfrey might have offered, roused him to move again. If Severus was still irritable and able to snipe at him, it meant the world was still the same to some extent.
He stepped out hesitantly, his every movement hurting. The blanket was wrapped around him like a bath towel, though he clutched it primly at his throat, earning a roll of the eyes from his godfather.
Without warning, the door to the miniature ward opened and the nurse bustled in, holding the neatly folded pile of Draco's robes and under-clothes. The blond blushed indignantly at her unannounced intrusion, fussily checking that not an inch of skin was on show that he didn't want on show.
"Here we go, my dear," she practically sang, her forced cheer grating on him. She set the bundle down on the foot of the one bed in the room before turning to look him over. "Now, you get dressed and I'll have a meal waiting for you in the main ward."
As she said those words, it suddenly occurred to him how truly starving he was. When in Merlin's name was the last time he'd eaten?
"That would be appreciated, Poppy," Severus answered coolly in his stead.
The nurse nodded and disappeared again, leaving the older man to turn a serious look on the younger. "After you've eaten, the Headmaster has asked that I take you to his office. We have a situation to discuss."
Draco watched silently as his godfather followed the nurse, closing the door behind him and affording the blond the privacy to get dressed.
xxx
Yet again, Malfoy's empty seat at the dinner table was all too obvious. Harry looked at his best friend in bemusement as Ron stared fixedly at the empty spot the blonde usually occupied, glaring at it over his bowl of cornflakes. As ridiculous as it was, Malfoy seemed to annoy Ron more when he wasn't around.
"What do you think he's up to?" the redhead muttered through a mouthful of cereal, causing Hermione to wrinkle her nose in disgust over the top of her book.
She rolled her eyes at him, sighing. "What does it matter? Honestly, you'd think you couldn't go a day without seeing him…"
"It's not that!" Ron protested indignantly. "It's just… I bet he's up to something! You heard the Slytherins, asking around for him. Even they don't have a clue where he's got to!"
"So?" Harry interrupted. "He's probably just… sick or something. Could be in the hospital wing." Distantly, the irony of him frantically trying to protect Malfoy's secret struck him, but he pushed that thought aside.
The other boy shook his head. "Nah, Ginny was there yesterday after some potion blew up on her in Slughorn's class. She said Pomfrey wasn't there – some sub mediwitch gave her a check-up – but neither was Malfoy."
"Ron!" Hermione abruptly snapped, lowering her book to look at him sternly. "Please tell me you're not actually asking after Malfoy?"
Harry had to snigger into his pumpkin juice at the look on his friend's face.
"I – Well – I mean – Hermione! You don't have to say it like that! I'm not 'asking after' him, I just want to know what he's doing! I've got a bad feeling about this. He's probably planning something…"
The girl glared at him, her expression and voice deadpan. "Yes, that makes perfect sense. He happens to be out of the way for once, actually not making our lives hell for the first time in years – why didn't I see it? He's obviously plotting our downfall."
Harry chuckled again as he bit into a round of toast, privately happy that Hermione was unknowingly helping him.
Ron scowled. "Alright, fine. But I could do without the sarcasm, y'know…"
With yet another roll of the eyes, she returned to her reading.
With a visible effort to change the subject, Harry cast his mind around for a few seconds before casually commenting, "So… first Quiddich mach of the season next week."
Instantly open to this line of discussion, as Harry had known he would be, Ron was soon engaged in a debate with Harry and Ginny, who was sat nearby, about the best strategy to use against Hufflepuff. The in-depth argument was unnecessary, really, considering that the House of the badger was the least formidable competition they faced, especially at the beginning of the season, but it interested the redheaded strategist enough to forget about Malfoy and that was all Harry was worried about.
About five minutes into the talk, Hermione leaned over to interrupt them. "We have about two minutes to get to our first class. If you're all about done…?"
Taking a last swig of juice, Harry stood with the others and they began to make their way toward the double doors at the end of the Hall. He'd barely taken two steps when a sharp voice brought him to a halt.
"Mr Potter!"
The group turned to see McGonagall marching toward them.
"Mr Potter, if you'll join me for a few minutes please?"
Harry glanced back at Ron and Hermione, both of whom looked openly curious. "Uhm, Professor, I have class…"
She waved her hand dismissively. "I've already notified your professor you'll be late." And with that, she took him by the elbow and began all but dragging him along beside her. To the others, she said briskly, "You two can go along. I'm sure Mr Potter will survive without you for this short period of time."
Scowling, Ron turned away, and Hermione quickly hurried after him.
Alone now, as they moved swiftly through the halls of the castle, Harry asked hesitantly, "Uhm, Professor? What's this about?"
"Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you."
"W-what about? Is it Order business –?"
"Potter!" McGonagall hissed in annoyance. "Must you be so tactless?" She glanced around, but there were no other students around to overhear. "No, it is not," she answered finally, her voice quieter than Harry's had been. "It is to do with Mr Malfoy."
"Oh." Harry sighed resignedly, anticipating hassle he could really do without.
xxx
Dumbledore's office, a place Harry had always considered quite roomy, was now more packed than ever.
As soon as they entered, McGonagall swept past Harry to go stand next to Snape, whose black presence seemed more dominating than ever. He turned to glare at the Gryffindor as if Harry was personally responsible for whatever was going on. Malfoy peered out from behind the Potions Master. For once, the blonde's expression wasn't a sneer or a glare. In fact, he looked… tired. Dark circles under his eyes were emphasised by too-pale skin.
Nearby, Madam Pomfrey stood by herself, looking out of place. She fidgeted uncomfortably, her hands twisting the material of her skirt. And in the far corner of the room, clearly trying to hide himself from notice, was Remus Lupin.
The Headmaster himself perched behind his desk, happily handing out candy to anyone within reach. He looked up at their entrance, eyes bright with interest.
"Ah!" came the satisfied exclamation. "Everyone here at last."
Snape's dry voice drifted calmly through the air. "If you'd care to let any of us know why, exactly, we're here…?"
The Headmaster fixed him with a pointed glance before continuing. "As some of you may have guessed already, those of us here are the only ones to have knowledge of the unfortunate incident to occur two nights ago."
Harry looked around as the old man spoke, realising just that.
"No," McGonagall suddenly spoke up, shaking her head. "Albus, what about the four students who were with Mr Malfoy…?"
For possibly the first time in his life, Harry witnessed Dumbledore look sheepish. "They… they will not be a problem."
"You didn't!" Snape spoke up, looking surprised despite himself.
"Oh Albus, really!" McGonagall snapped. "Obliviating students…"
Harry's eyebrows shot up as he finally cottoned on to what they were talking about. No wonder Pansy had been interrogating everyone looking for Malfoy. She didn't remember!
"It was necessary, Minerva," the Headmaster said calmly. "Now we are left only with us eight. I've asked you all here for discrepancy's sake. Mr Malfoy, as it is your secret to tell, you will be excluded from the request I am about to make of the rest of you."
The Slytherin gave no reaction except to lower his eyes.
Dumbledore continued. "There are laws in this school stating very clearly that incidents such as this cannot go unreported, if only for the safety of both students and staff members." Harry didn't miss Malfoy's wince at those words. "However, I am about to ask you to do me the personal favour of overlooking those laws."
None of the adults looked particularly surprised. The blond, however, looked up with a clearly startled expression.
Briefly, the twinkle returned to the old man's eyes as he glanced at the teen, but he became solemn again addressing the others. "I would ask you all to swear a vow of secrecy before this knowledge goes any further."
The adults nodded immediately, though no one said anything. Harry glanced at each, realising that they had been expecting this.
A few moments passed before he also realised that expectant eyes had been turned on him.
He started, flushing slightly. "Oh, yeah, sure."
"Excellent!" Dumbledore clapped his hands once, smiling. He then looked toward the Slytherin, who was looking confused by the proceedings. "Is this solution acceptable to you, Mr Malfoy?"
The blond blinked, then frowned mildly. "Why?" he asked, his voice emerging hoarsely.
Above the halfmoon spectacles, blue eyes took on a sad look. "Because, my boy, this way we might still show you at least some mercy. The alternative is to reveal what happened to the world and watch as it destroys both yourself and Professor Lupin, all because of something that was an accident. What you are will become common knowledge. Certain… privileges you've grown up accustom to will be lost."
Draco stared the old man in the eyes and, abruptly, understood exactly what was being implied. He had the sudden vision of Lucius's reaction. His father would be livid. No, worse, he'd be… ashamed. He'd be disowned. He'd be disinherited!
The Slytherin visibly paled even further, alarming everyone in the room. Draco's mind raced as more and more inevitable truths hit home. If this got out, he'd be cut off from the Malfoy name and fortune. Making his own money would become almost impossible, if the wizarding world knew what he'd become. No one would hire him – not that Malfoys should even need jobs in the first place! But if his father disinherited him, what option would he have? Even the smallest of things he'd come to enjoy, like the school Quiddich matches, would no longer be accessible to him, with the rules concerning the participation of magical creatures.
He'd… he'd end up like Lupin! Wearing shabby cardigans and leeching off Dumbledore!
He felt, quite suddenly, very ill.
"Draco, perhaps one of us should escort you back to the hospital wing." Severus's voice brought him back to reality with a bump.
The whole room was staring at him with varying degrees of concern. It occurred to him that his thorough horror must have been showing on his face.
He shook his head, returning his attention to Dumbledore. "And if no one knows… what'll happen?"
The Headmaster looked vaguely pleased that Draco was seeing things his way. "You will, of course, retain the option of telling anyone you wish. The rest of us will find ourselves entirely incapable of muttering a word of your condition to anyone outside this room. I must warn you, though, that our secrecy won't stop people finding out on their own, if they guess or discover the truth. You will have to be careful."
Draco nodded, before casting one fleeting, vicious glance at the older werewolf, who was still huddled in his corner. "And him?" the blond spat.
Dumbledore steepled his fingers on the desk. "No Ministry action will be taken, obviously. I've actually already spoken to Severus on this matter. I had hoped to keep Professor Lupin around for the purpose of guiding you through this, my dear boy. I have a feeling you'll find yourself in need of his advice in the coming months. A far better option than for you to cope alone, without warning of what's to come."
Draco looked furious. "No! Why is he allowed to stay here after what he did?"
"I believe that was my question, Albus," Snape murmured coolly.
The old man sighed. "If you would both trust my judgement this once –"
"He attacked me!" Malfoy practically shrieked, his anger overcoming the aura of exhaustion which had first hung about him. "He's made me like him! I'm not going to spend another minute around him that I don't have to! The least of what he deserves is to be fired!"
Harry listened to the argument with growing panic. He had trusted that Dumbledore would find a way of convincing the Slytherin, but it was very obvious that Malfoy didn't intend to listen.
Finally Dumbledore sat forward intently, his expression serious. "Mr Malfoy, I'll ask you to calm down in my office. Very well, I understand if you decline the offer of a helping hand, but understand that Remus Lupin will remain a Professor at this school –"
"But that's not fair!" The blonde's voice had quickly taken on the tone of someone used to getting what he demanded, and in that moment, Harry breathed a sigh of relief, knowing Malfoy had just lost himself the argument.
A hesitant voice dared to speak up for the first time as Remus stepped forward. "Albus perhaps it would be better –"
"Enough," Dumbledore spoke clearly, silencing them all. "At the very least, I think we're all agreed that the best course is secrecy. Mr Malfoy, the choice will be yours after this as to whether you tell anyone else of what has happened. Meanwhile, you may trust our silence." The Headmaster raised his wand and murmured quietly for a second before looking back at them. "Do you so swear?"
"I swear," Snape spoke up first, his voice steady. A small star of silver light shot from the Headmaster's wand and hit the Potions Master in the chest, disappearing with a slight flash.
McGonagall followed suit, murmuring the same words, and another silver light vanished into her the same way. One by one they made the promise, though Remus's voice was heavy with reluctance and guilt. When the Headmaster's spell hit Harry it felt like an odd weight had settled itself inside his chest, but he grew used to it in seconds.
Finally, Dumbledore himself said the solemn words, "I swear," and the final light shot towards him. The faint pressure of magic settled across the room for a few prolonged moments, before eventually dissipating.
The Headmaster put away his wand and glanced about the room. "You may return to what you were doing," he told them easily.
Harry frowned. What? That was it?
"Professor Lupin, Mr Malfoy, you may both take the day off if you feel the need."
Remus shook his head. "N-no, that's okay Albus. I'll be alright to teach."
Malfoy folded his arms stubbornly. "I'm not going to sit around in the hospital ward all day. I'll go to class." He ignored Snape's disapproving look.
Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. Mr Malfoy, Severus has requested I grant you your own room specifically for this time of the month. It may attract less attention if you stayed there permanently instead of going missing only three nights a month."
The blond sniffed haughtily, but it wasn't hard to see the pleased look in his eyes. "Fine," he snapped ungraciously, making sure everyone knew he was being put out.
The Headmaster's eyes were twinkling in amusement again, though. "If you wish, you may spread the rumour that your father is footing the bill for such privacy. I'm sure that white lie will be believed."
Harry rolled his eyes. Malfoy, catching sight of him, cast a vicious glare.
"Why wasn't Potter Obliviated along with Pansy and Blaise?" he demanded with a sneer. "Merlin knows he's not wanted here."
Harry snorted. "Maybe I'm more trustworthy than a couple of snakes," he retorted, easily falling into the old routine he'd built up with Malfoy.
With a sigh, McGonagall took hold of his shoulder and pushed him none too gently in the direction of the door. "Come along, Potter. Time to go."
Malfoy wore a smirk as he watched until Snape did pretty much the same thing to him, ushering him impatiently out of the office.