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 6: Lupin's Losin' It

xxx

The days began to even out as life, in that insufferable habit it has, returned to a slower pace.

In the weekend after the full moon, Draco was to be found at any hour of the day inside the Slytherin common room, revelling in the fact that he could safely stay the night if he so wished. He did just that, of course, claiming that by the time Pansy slyly pointed out the existence of his own room, it was far too late for him to return to it. She hadn't been fooled, he knew, but then, he hadn't been trying particularly hard to fool her. And so, he'd spent the two lazy days doing nothing but flirting with the blond girl and listening to Blaise's tactless jokes, all the while trying his hardest to convince himself he could still be a proper part of all this, if he wanted to be. As for his… problem, the undercurrent of denial had resumed its course, and Draco was determined only to confront it again next month.

Meanwhile, Harry went through phases of happily throwing himself into his friends' activities, and then countering it all with the hours in which he purposely separated himself from them, frantically trying to put distance between himself and other people. He didn't know why the longing sometimes came over him, but it had been happening for so long now that the need didn't seem unusual anymore. Those hours were always either spent in the Room of Requirement, continuing his study, or standing at the edge of the lake. In those times, he would stare listlessly out at the vast stretch of blank water, trying not to remember.

Hermione, as always, fretted over the strange habits of her best friend. If possible, this new, almost… bipolar version of Harry worried her more than the constantly depressed one of a week ago. She could understand him being depressed, in the wake of Sirius's death, but this… One minute he was acting like nothing was wrong, and the next it was like he couldn't stand to spend another moment around them. Not only did it hurt, it… It was unhealthy, surely! For a while, she'd thought that Harry had been called to Dumbledore's office to discuss his behaviour, but when asked, Harry had said it was to do with Order business, and that the Headmaster had sworn him to secrecy. And so, she came up with an idea she hoped would snap him out of it for good…

Ron worried, as well, but perhaps his concerns were less in-depth that Hermione's. The redhead only saw Harry stepping in to stop him thrashing Malfoy – something Ron was sure Harry would have enjoyed any other time. He'd heard that people sometimes became passive when they were depressed, and decided that he'd just have to keep an extra eye out for his best friend, make sure certain blond prats didn't take advantage of the situation. Ron also worried that Harry's performance in the upcoming Quiddich match might suffer, though he'd never voice such things aloud. As far as he knew, Harry had never before allowed his personal life to interfere with his game – but then, things had never really been this bad before…

But despite these miniature melodramas, life was, in general, returning to normal – or as near to it as Hogwarts could ever be.

So it came as a true shock to Severus Snape when he was woken in the wee hours of Monday morning by urgent pounding on the door to his rooms. Possibilities flying through his head – something to do with Draco, surely; no, it would be Dumbledore, with some new, urgent mission for him; or maybe Potter, into yet more trouble – he scrambled out of bed, throwing on a dark blue dressing robe as he went, and hurried to answer the caller, who had yet to cease the incessant banging.

Throwing open the door which guarded his private rooms, both his irritation and alarm showing on his face, the Potions Master was greeted with the astounding sight of one very dishevelled Remus Lupin.

The man was dressed in bland blue and white striped pyjamas. He'd also thrown on a threadbare dark red robe, but hadn't quite managed to tie it properly, and the shoulders were wet through with rain from his walk up to the castle, since he was now occupying Hagrid's hut along with his teaching position.

"S-S-Severus," Lupin stuttered, his teeth chattering. He was staring fixedly at the ground between them as rainwater dripped from his fringe. The werewolf's entire body was shivering, his arms wrapped tightly around himself – but for some reason, Snape doubted that it was from the cold.

"What are you doing here?" he spat, his dislike for the creature in front of him evident. The Potion Master's mind worked oddly, in that it could guiltlessly condemn Lupin as an animal, but condone Draco as an innocent victim, all without the two concepts ever clashing.

Finally, the man before him raised his gaze, his eyes pure amber. He looked very much like a beaten dog in that moment. "I n-need your help, Severus. P-please…"

Severus raised an eyebrow sharply, his expression disdainful. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, but you're obviously out of your mind, coming here at this time with whatever nonsense –"

"Severus!" Abruptly, Lupin threw himself forward, hands grasping at the other man's dressing robe. "Please! Don't send me away… Please, gods, make it stop!"

Unnerved, Severus clung desperately to his self control, determined not to show any flicker of emotion other than loathing, even as the werewolf looked more and more unhinged by the second. He jerked away from the unwanted touch, brandishing his wand, which seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

The sight of it brought the slightest bit of clarity back to the amber eyes. Lupin looked momentarily appalled by his own loss of control, before the anguished look was back in place. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, it's just… Severus, you have to help!"

"What the hell is wrong with you tonight?" Severus demanded furiously. It showed just how off guard Lupin's unannounced arrival had put him, for him to curse so blatantly rather than use his customary slow drawl.

The werewolf shook his head, looked down, and then suddenly he was pushing past Severus, striding into his private rooms! The Potions Master couldn't bring himself to yell the things cluttering his mind, so strong was his disbelief at the man's audacity. He turned, watching in astonishment as Lupin proceeded to pace like a caged animal, his hands fidgeting continuously, the oddly out of place boots he was wearing leaving specks of mud here and there.

"Lupin!" he finally managed to sputter, his glare lethal.

But the werewolf didn't even seem to hear him. "I haven't slept, Severus. Not in days, not since… I can't stop thinking! About-about what I did, and how he's going to have to live for the rest of his life, a boy like that, and-and-and Sirius! Oh god, make it stop! I need to stop thinking!"

Severus watched him in silence, not quite able to hide his own reactions. He gave a shudder, repulsed by how undone the man had become. His babbling made him sound half insane, and the Potions Master wondered, tensely, if he really was as far gone as he sounded right then.

Abruptly, the pacing stopped and flashing amber eyes fixed on him.

"That's why I came here," the wolf hissed. "You can make it stop! I know you can! You taught Harry to block his thoughts…"

Realising what Lupin was getting at, Severus stared at him incredulously. "I did no such thing! I tried to teach him Occlumency for an entirely different purpose– What a thoroughly stupid, disrespectful excuse for an idea! I wouldn't disgrace such magic by even indulging your pathetic whim!"

Lupin growled and turned away. "Something else then! A potion. Dreamless Sleep – gods, something!"

Severus's lip curled in disgust as he stared at the wreck of a man. "Go to Pomfrey, do not come disturbing me in the middle of the night!"

But yet again, he had the odd feeling his unwanted visitor wasn't even hearing him. Lupin had resumed pacing, and when he spoke, it was as if he were talking to himself. "Albus hasn't even said anything. Sent Minerva to me, made sure I took the potion. He won't speak to me, though, not directly. Won't even punish me, even when I asked…"

Growing tired of the disjointed mutterings, Severus yanked the door back open and snarled, "Get out, Lupin. It's late and I don't have time for your masochistic ramblings."

The other man turned a wild stare on him, shaking his head faintly. "No! Severus, I need to sleep! You have to have a potion or-or-or something!"

"I have nothing I intend to give to the likes of you!" The furious scream escaped him before he had the chance to repress it. Caught up in his anger, he gripped the werewolf's arm and shoved him forcefully out of his room, back into the corridor. Then, leaning forward slightly, he spoke quietly.

"Listen very carefully to me. I will not help you. I will not ever help you. If you were to lose your mind through this, it's nothing less than you deserve for what you've done to my godson! You want punishment, Lupin? This is your punishment! I hope you never sleep again!"

The resounding slam! which followedwoke up half the Slytherin dorm.

xxx

"Has anyone else noticed that Professor Lupin seems a bit… out of it?"

First lesson on Monday morning and the sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins were gathered outside near the edge of the forest, supposedly discussing the lifestyles of centaurs.

Harry glanced fleetingly at Ron, who had spoken, before returning his concerned gaze to the man who was teaching them.

Lupin had never looked so ill. The man's face was colourless, except for the large, dark purple smudges under his eyes. Sometimes, when he made some half-hearted gesture, the surrounding students clearly saw his hands shaking. More than once he'd stammered now, and even lost his train of thought in the middle of speaking at least twice since the lesson began.

"Do you think…" Hermione whispered, "Do you think it has something to do with that time of the month?"

The redhead rolled his eyes. "You can say it, y'know. Everyone in the school knows what he is."

She frowned at him. "I'm just being tactful. Something you'd know nothing about, Ronald Weasley."

Harry stopped listening as they sniped at each other. In truth, he doubted Remus's condition had anything to do with the full moon, which had ended on Friday night. Besides, Malfoy looked perfectly fine, and he'd gone through the same transformation. In fact, the blond had haughtily resumed his throne as Slytherin prince, and was all the more obnoxious for it. If Harry had hoped the other might learn some humility or – God forbid – even empathy from his misfortune, he was being proven very, very wrong. Malfoy was worse than ever. He'd spent the morning jeering at Gryffindors, and it was obvious – to Harry, at least – that he was set upon tormenting Lupin. The older werewolf would turn even paler every time he accidentally set eyes on the Slytherin, who was continuously drawing attention to himself just so he could cause this very reaction.

Harry narrowed his eyes in annoyance. Stupid prat, trying to bait Remus…

He turned back to his friends, noticing that Seamus had joined the pair. "Aye," the Irish boy was muttering. "You ask me, Lupin's losin' it."

For a moment, Harry bristled on behalf of his favourite teacher, but then he sighed, casting another look at Remus's tired form. Really, he couldn't help but agree.

xxx

Draco turned away as yet another unknown scent drifted past him. That had been happening all weekend, getting worse and worse. It was driving him insane. Everything he did, he was being distracted by a thousand different smells he never would have noticed a few days ago.

The potions lab, as much as he loved the lesson, was pure hell. He'd visited Severus over the weekend, and had been forced to leave the room hurriedly after bursting into a particularly violent sneezing fit near a bubbling cauldron. The Great Hall during meal times was similarly overpowering, as was the common room and almost any other place which accumulated people.

He'd been forced to continuously distance himself from Blaise, who'd done nothing more than change his cologne to something that didn't really agree with Draco's newly sensitive nose. And Pansy…! He shuddered, remembering his disturbing discovery of how they shared 'that time of the month'. When he'd finally identified the odd scent that surrounded the girl, he'd all but hurled himself away from her, much to her surprise. He'd had a hard time explaining that one.

And the noise! That was almost worse. It was as if everyone in the bloody school was on some secret mission to deafen him. They were all so loud…

It was safe to say that his new, unwanted wolfish senses weren't exactly the superpowers he'd always dreamed of.

Sighing, he shook himself from his thoughts. Pansy and Blaise had gone ahead to the Slytherin common room, while he stopped off at his own rooms. He needed a few minutes alone, to get away from the sights, smells and sounds of so many people. How ironic, he thought bitterly, that the curse would force him into isolation even when he wasn't about to transform.

Lilith saw him coming, and instantly the dark-haired, pale-skinned sorceress was preening in a way he'd grown used to already. Her hooded eyes were half lidded in a way he was sure she thought seductive.

"Drac–" he began to mutter the password, only to be interrupted.

"Malfoy!"

Turning, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of Potter storming toward him, looking pissed off. Draco wondered if this would be more or less amusing than the Suicidal Saviour he'd grown used to.

"Potter."

The dark haired Gryffindor glared at him as he drew nearer, daring to invade personal space as he jabbed an angry finger at the Slytherin, and once again Draco wrinkled his nose as human scents swept toward him.

"I know what you're doing!" Potter accused. "You're trying to torment him!"

The blond pointedly took a step backwards, his expression carefully blank. "So?" he retorted calmly.

Green eyes widened incredulously behind the glass frames. "So? Malfoy, have you seen him? This is destroying him! He's gone through more than –"

"Oh, shut up Potter!" he snapped abruptly, silencing the other for the moment. "Has it occurred to you that me making him feel guilty occasionally is the very least I could do? And I don't care what he's been through, I care what he did."

The Gryffindor visibly hesitated, his anger dimming slightly. He rebounded, of course, much to Draco's annoyance. "Look, I understand what happened was… terrible. But… But it wasn't his fault, Malfoy!"

The blonde grit his teeth and tried hard not to growl. Anxiousness radiated off Potter as the other boy dithered in front of him. He smelled of… sweat and grass-stains and ink and a hundred other things. Draco wrinkled his nose slightly, but was glad there was no trace of artificial colognes and the like. That was all he needed; to burst into uncontrollable sneezing while he was trying to remain superior.

"It certainly wasn't mine!" he snapped when he was in control of himself.

"Well, it's not like you haven't done enough to deserve –"

Draco's hands were on his shoulders in an instant, and Harry found himself slammed up against the wall by the smaller boy. He went for his wand instinctively, but Draco knocked it away, and the next thing he knew the blonde's forearm was across his throat. The Slytherin's eyes had changed yet again to those of the wolf, his pupils contracting to pinpricks. Harry gasped, but couldn't utter a word against the pressure Draco was using to choke him. He clawed and shoved at the other boy, but nothing moved him. He was fighting against a werewolf, and was powerless.

Draco's voice was deadly when he spoke. "Did you just say I deserved this, Potter?" he hissed, leaning very close.

Harry, of course, couldn't respond until the blonde released him, which he did only partially, lightening the pressure he was applying just enough for his rival to answer him.

The Gryffindor glared at the werewolf, longing for his wand, which he could see some distance away on the floor. "That wasn't what I meant," he ground out, furious as his helpless position.

Again, Draco growled lowly under his breath. Harry could feel the other's breath on his face. It might have been a romantic position they were in, with Draco pinning him in place and leaning in entirely too close, but the image was ruined by the fury on the blonde's face and Harry's simmering outrage.

Slowly, the Slytherin's eyes began to darken again, regaining colour until they were back to their natural grey. He sneered at the Gryffindor Golden Boy. "Keep in mind, Potter – whether I deserved this or not, I'm perfectly capable of passing it on." He showed his teeth in a parody of a smile.

Harry stared at him silently, unmoving.

Abruptly, Draco smirked, stepping backwards and finally releasing the other. "What do you know? Wolves can smell fear." Then, turning on his heel, he strode straight past the portrait of Lilith, forgetting in his anger that he'd ever intended to stop there.

He spoke viciously as he went, voice drifting back over his shoulder. "Maybe just once, Potter, the victim you're looking to defend isn't a beloved Gryffindor."

Harry moved to pick up his wand, watching the blond go, his face devoid of emotion.