CHAPTER EIGHT: The Shape of Things to Come

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Draco was falling asleep in the chair outside when Mrs. Weasley stuck her head out the door and called them in for dinner, a dish rag in her hands. He smiled at her and nodded, the homey feeling making his heart warm. He stood up and stretched out into the sunset, kicking Ron in the foot.

"Ow! What?!" he shouted, standing up to kick Draco back.

"Didn't you just hear your mother? It's dinner time."

Ron looked around. "Right. Sorry," he answered but didn't move. He kept hoping to the last second that she'd show but nothing.

Draco practically had to drag him in by the sleeve. Nothing was going to mess up dinner tonight, not for Draco. He'd never sat down at a family dinner like this, especially beside Hermione like a real couple. When he entered the kitchen, his eyes landed on her sitting calmly in the middle of the elongated dinner table. There was a seat on her left. She looked up, met his eyes, and nodded towards it. He smiled brightly and came to sit beside her, hiding his childlike excitement as best he could.

But, as soon as he could, he took her hand and held it under the table all through dinner. For a little while, Draco got to see what it might be like spending the rest of his life with Hermione. He got to imagine what it might be like to have kids and care for them, to eat dinner beside her every day and run a house somewhere quiet with a big yard for Quidditch. For just a little bit, he got to live in the world of What If.

Nobody paid any mind to the empty seat beside Ron. Nobody noticed the way he looked at Draco and Hermione or the way they looked at each other when they thought everyone was focused on their food.

After dessert, everyone started going every which way. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat by, still telling stories. Draco listened intently until his eyes started to droop again and he yawned. Hermione let of his hand for the first time to rub his back soothingly.

"Why don't we head up to bed?" she suggested sweetly. "I know you didn't sleep last night. I can feel it and it's driving me crazy."

He groaned and stood up. Before he could say anything, Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Where do you two think you're going?"

"To bed," said Draco, his face full of obvious confusion. "Where else?"

"Together?" screeched Mrs. Weasley, standing.

Hermione and Draco looked at each other. "Well, yea, we usually sleep two doors down at Hogwarts," said Hermione, "but we'd be fine in separate rooms."

Draco shot her a traitorous glare. No, we wouldn't! I hate sleeping without you! No, no, no, he thought miserably. She shrugged and ignored the glare. Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!

"Well, I hope you won't mind Percy's room again," said Mrs. Weasley to Draco, clearing the table.

"That'll be fine," answered Hermione for him. "I'll room with Ginny."

He went to open his mouth to complain but she squeezed his hand painfully hard. "That'll be fine," he said through gritted teeth. Harry chuckled from the living room, shaking his head as though he knew something Draco didn't.

Hermione gave him a quick kiss on the lips and said, "You go ahead. I'm good for a few more hours."

He sighed, resigned, and dragged himself up the stairs to Percy's godforsaken room where it all started and where it would soon end.

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Hermione settled herself against the open window in the living room, her books in her lap. She rested her head against the wall and lifted her eyes at every page, checking the horizon for Pig. Ron, Harry and Ginny, who were spread across the sofas, kept checking on her and sharing worried glances.

"Why isn't she up with Draco?" whispered Ginny to her brother, who shrugged, staring out the window himself as though expecting Pansy to glow in the dark. Hermione didn't lift her eyes off the book despite hearing every word as though spoken straight at her.

"Can you believe Draco thought they'd be sleeping together?" whispered Harry to Ginny. "Even I'm not dumb enough to try that."

Ginny covered her mouth to keep from laughing. Ron shushed her a little and went back to staring at nothing. Ginny rolled her eyes and bent down to kiss him quickly. "He doesn't know any better," answered Ginny softly. "Whenever he's wanted something, he's probably gotten it. He never had parents who cared. He's gone through a lot though, you know. I think Hermione's really proud of him for that and she should be."

Harry caressed her arm, settling his head onto her lap. She caressed his hair back from his forehead, tracing his scar. Hermione watched them in her peripheral vision and smirked into her book, now rested onto her folded knees. She gestured for a hovering candle nearby to come closer, her eyes starting to droop. Draco didn't know what his stubbornness to watch over her was actually doing. He thought he was just strong, able to stay away days at a time. He didn't know he was borrowing his strength from her.

She didn't want to tell him. He thought he was doing the right thing hiding his pains. The least she could do was take it and give him that peace of mind.

"I'm going to bed," announced Ginny, loud enough for everyone to hear. Harry groaned and sat up off her lap. He nodded and agreed to go too, unable to find another reason to stay awake without her. Hermione envied them because she was still waiting for that blasted reply from Dumbledore.

"You should go up too," Hermione told Ron. "I asked Harry for his cloak this afternoon. I'll be up all night and if she shows up, I'll run up and get you, ok?"

He fought with himself whether to admit he'd been waiting for her. "Yea," he said with a sigh, scratching at the back of his head as he stretched. "Promise?"

Hermione gave him a slow smile. "I promise." It didn't matter if Hermione didn't approve. Ron knew she would never go back on a promise to a friend. So, he did as she asked and was asleep in seconds.

Around 1:00 a.m., Hermione started thinking the letter wasn't coming. Though she knew Dumbledore was known for keeping odd hours, Pig should have been back by now if Dumbledore had been sleeping. Unless… it wasn't safe and Dumbledore had kept Pig until he got somewhere secret. Maybe he wasn't even in the country. She went over the possibilities over and over in her head.

3:00 a.m. – nothing.

4:00 a.m. – nothing.

5:00 a.m. – nothing. No Pansy. No Pig.

It was still pitch dark and the hedges were barely visible in the distance. She closed her eyes here and then, kicking herself for not taking that sleeping potion Ginny kept hinting at. Ginny had started drinking it ever since she and Harry became an item and he started telling her all the particulars of his life. His meetings with Dumbledore, the details of their past escapades…

Hermione had been smart enough to keep that to herself but she didn't lead Harry's life. She didn't have Voldemort after her. As far as the Death Eaters knew, she was Draco Malfoy's MudBlood girlfriend and thus of minimal consequence. Nobody knew she was a werewolf, at least no one who would pass the information along. Draco had gone to great lengths to ensure just that, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She preferred to think she wasn't dating Richie fuckin' Rich.

With a heavy sigh, she threw her books down and hurried upstairs to Ginny's room. She quietly pushed in the door and felt around for Ginny's bag where she knew the potion waited for her. It wasn't the same as Draco's pixie dust, she told herself. She could be easily woken from a sleeping potion. It was just to help ease the worries from her mind. It wouldn't harm anyone else. As soon as Pig tapped on the window or Pansy came bursting in, she would most likely wake and take care of business feeling renewed and refreshed.

Most likely.

She downed the potion in a single gulp and hurried downstairs to her spot by the window before it took effect. She sat down and covered herself in the cloak, resting her tired head against the glass and falling asleep almost instantly.

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Draco got a good two hours sleep in before waking up, startled. He cursed, realizing he was covered in cold sweat. He thought to take a shower – oh what he wouldn't do for a shower at that moment – but, since the noise would only wake up the whole ruddy house, he instead decided to lay back and try to get back to sleep.

It didn't work. He kept thinking about stupid Pansy and her stupid actions. She could be giving the Dark Lord a blowjob by now for all knew. He grimaced at the thought, even gagged a little, and turned on his side. He looked out the tiny window facing the gardens. The moon was growing larger, beckoning something he didn't know he had within him.

Calm yourself, you bloody idiot, he thought. You're acting like a little kid who's just wet the bed.

He thought of only one way he was going to get back to sleep. He thought of Hermione. He thought of last Halloween, of staying in. They didn't think anyone would miss them at dinner so Hermione took her spot on the carpet and he by the window, watching her every few minutes. He had no idea she was reading How to Get Mauled in All the Right Places.

A little while later, she put on that sour-lemon look and shut her book, outraged. She threw it into a corner and sauntered over to a slightly stunned Draco. She straddled him in his little chair and he thought he was going to blow in that very instant. He had never seen so much confidence in those eyes, in that smirk. He gulped and let her take lead as she ripped off his shirt and gnawed at his neck until he moaned and gave in without a single explanation.

He lifted her up by the back of her thighs and threw her onto the bed where she bounced slightly as though in surprise that it had actually worked. They'd just been so stable for the last few weeks that she thought she was losing him. It was intended to be an incentive, a jumpstart, but she'd never expected him to react so… tenderly.

As soon as he stripped them both completely, he rested her back onto the pillows and smiled sweetly down at her. His hair, still uncut, fell like a curtain around his face, making his brilliant white teeth shine in the darkness of night. He held her fists up above her head and whispered, "Where'd you go learning that?"

"In a book."

His smile molded into a lop-sided smirk as he was still unsure where this was necessarily the truth or even a good thing. "How so?"

"There were very good diagrams. I was curious."

"What did you learn?" he asked, trailing kisses all down her sternum towards her bellybutton. His hand followed his kisses as though cementing into place the mark of his lips on her skin.

"Werewolves have 27 erogenous zones," she huffed out, arching her back as he started nibbling at her inner thigh.

He cackled. "Is this one?"

She nodded furtively, unable to stop the squeal gathering at the back of her throat. Draco thought back on that night as their last truly happy, innocent moment. After that night, they had returned to the monotonous sex and class and sex and class and… Well, he never saw that book again and he wondered if he had done something wrong.

But, that night, he had been truly happy. It wasn't a residual feeling of the night before. It was waking up to her in his bed for the first time of many. She had always slept in her own bed before that point, towards the footboard where he could watch her sleep through the open bathroom doors. He knew it wasn't a large milestone for her but he took it as the first sign that they were growing closer and closer towards a future together. Now, it was almost carved into place but at what cost?

He ignored all those worries and thought of the after, of the feel of her skin under his fingertips as he traced her spine. He didn't know why he liked to do it, only that she loved it and it calmed him. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it had to with their connection. He said it so lightly to Ron and the others but they didn't know. It wasn't an expression. Their minds were truly connected. Even then, from his bed in his lonely, dark room, he could see into the hedges from the window below and knew Hermione was awake. He pondered going down to be with her but something in her screamed to stay away.

Then, as dawn neared, everything in his mind went dark and he knew she was asleep. He sighed, feeling himself get out of bed almost unconsciously with the intent to carry her back up to bed, his own and damn the rules. He carefully descended the stairs and looked to the empty seat by the window. It took him a moment but he realized she must have the invisibility cloak on. He went to reach around for her when he suddenly heard a low, distant growl coming closer.

He stood pin straight and still, listening intently. It was a girl but every hair on his body telling him it was dangerous. Then, he saw her, limping through the hedges. It was a voice but it was in his head. And he knew now who it was.

The pain he'd felt on the way out the Great Hall last week was back, sending him forward onto his knees as though gasping for air. It was so strong, so desperate, and drawing closer by the second. He looked at the empty seat where he could feel Hermione's heat radiating and winced.

Protect her, the wolf inside him growled. She is your mate. Protect her at all cost.

He stormed out the kitchen doors into the backyard. He stood, fists by his sides, as he waited for whatever it was to draw closer. He could see it now. It was a wolf, like himself, massive and unstable. Its hair was black as the night around it and its claws were so massive that they sunk into the muddy ground as it walked.

It spoke again in his head, horrible growls. It was speaking but he didn't understand the language. All he knew was that it was alone and… scared? Why the bloody hell would that thing be scared? Draco was the one that should be trembling. It was about to ravage his only example of a happy home. It had crossed half the path from the hedges but Draco still clenched his fists, praying it would turn back and he wouldn't have to change. That was the last thing he wanted. He was a person, not a monster. He had Hermione and reluctant friends but friends nonetheless. He was surrounded by good, a good based in love and understanding.

And he had no choice. He was going to have to become the monster to protect it. He stripped himself of his pajama pants and tossed them aside. He closed his eyes and let the anger ensue. Everything his father had ever said, Blaise's abuses… he brought them to life in his head, reliving each excruciating word until the wolf was freed within him.

He shifted and it was effortless, disturbingly so. He crouched down on all fours and roared at the wolf before him, threatening it back. It paused and growled in return. Suddenly, the voice in his head made sense as though he could communicate through howls. In his head, it sounded like—

"Pansy?" he called to her in his head. "Is that you?"

"Draco, I'm sorry. I can't stop it."

"Can't stop what? What were you sent to do?"

"Kill them. Kill them all!" The growls were getting deadlier, full of pain and anger.

"Who did this to you?" he begged.

The monster stopped, trying to conjure a memory that didn't exist. "I—I don't know. I can't—can't remember."

"Do you remember Ron? He's up there, Parkinson. He's asleep in his bed, safe. Do you really want to hurt him?"

The monster whined and took two steps back before shaking its head and preparing for the attack. It launched at Draco, who stood in defense. Its head crashed into his torso and he was sent flying back onto his back. It bore its teeth and bit into his side, tearing out a piece of flesh and hair. Draco howled loudly and the house awoke. Every light turned on, scaring the monster a little. He rolled onto his good side and sat on his hind legs.

"Pansy, I know the destruction spell. If I say it aloud, we'll both die but I won't let you hurt them. Is that what you want? To die?"

The monster's eyes opened wide and, after a few tense moments, it changed back into the naked girl he'd grown to like and know a bit too well. He walked over to her, limping slightly. He went to shift back and check her wounds but he couldn't. His large brow furrowed and he whined, begging with his eyes for her to help. In different shapes, they couldn't communicate.

Pansy opened her eyes and hugged herself, looking around frantically. She didn't know where she was or why she was naked. All she knew was that it was pitch black and she was standing in the Weasleys' backyard. Her eyes met Draco's large, gold spheres and she started screaming bloody murder.

"HELP! HELP ME!" she called. Draco tried to shush her but, as he drew closer, she only screamed higher. It hurt his sensitive ears mercilessly. He tried to nudge her, to show her he was harmless – her friend – but she slapped his muzzle and something arose in him. He growled back and, to shut her up, he nudged her to the ground. He didn't know his own strength and before he realized what he'd done, her head hit the ground with a soft crunch and blood started leaking from her scalp. The bones in her arm protruded out, obvious broken. Everything was swirling out of control and, dizzy from the blood, he could barely see straight, let alone think. The wolf mind was taking over the longer he stayed in shape.

He looked back to the house and decided he could do nothing in this state. He didn't even know if anyone was going to follow her and harm them but he had to take her to safety. He bent down and picked her up in his teeth, bringing her over to the Weasleys' back porch. Before he could set her down, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and their parents were standing at the back door, wands in the air.

"Put her down, you filthy beast," growled Mrs. Weasley. Didn't she recognize him? Didn't she know he'd never harm anyone? Then, he realized Hermione was still asleep, hidden in the chair. Why hadn't she woken? Why wasn't she there to save him from himself?

He did as asked then took a few steps closer, instinct driving his paws. He felt Hermione shuffling awake, having obviously heard his frantic mental calls, and came up behind them. Before she could say a thing, Mr. Weasley lifted his wand in the air, muttered something quickly, and Draco was sent flying back fifty yards. Just as the world went dark, he felt his skin retract and his body return to normal.

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