Biggest most humungous thanks to beta, Izzy... I really owe a lot to you =) And thanks to imera for the chapter name :D

I hope you enjoy this chapter... I promise Fenrir and Harry's meeting is coming soon... verrrry soon ;)

Thanks so much for all your reviews! :O I can't believe I've got over 100 for only 6 chapters :S but i'm not complaining ^.^

Thanks again :)

x

Slytherin Trouble

Harry held in his growl as he felt Draco peering over his shoulder again.

"Do it, Potter, or I might accidentally let something slip about you and Gr–"

"Fine!" hissed Harry.

For the last three days, Draco had been giving Harry whispered instructions on what to do in order to keep his secret safe.

At this precise moment, Draco had requested that Harry should slip up on one of his potions. Last year Harry wouldn't have minded at all, what with the constant mistakes he was prone to in potions anyway, but this year with Professor Slughorn it would be a lot harder to give up his O-grade student level.

So, being watched by Draco, Harry – instead of putting the beetle eyes in his cauldron – dropped several small Hippogriff feathers in there instead.

Immediately his potion was beginning to give off an almost cheese-like aroma and a green smoke had arisen above his head.

"Harry, m'boy!" cried Slughorn waddling over. "What's happened?"

Harry glared at Draco, who was suddenly very interested in his own work, and turned back to his teacher.

"I must have read the instructions wr–"

A loud cough.

Harry sighed as he remembered what Draco had told him to say if Slughorn questioned him on his slipup.

"...instructions wrong. Anyway, sir, I think I probably know better."

Slughorn blinked a few times before chuckling nervously. Harry was uncomfortably aware of the all the stares and glares he was receiving, especially from Ron and Hermione. They were sitting on the other side of the class today; they'd been ignoring him ever since he'd snapped at them three days prior.

"Right, well I suppose you've been lucky in some of your mistakes before..." his professor muttered as he shuffled away.

Harry looked at Draco with an imploring expression, trying to find some remorse in the boy's cold, grey eyes. However, Draco merely smirked and mouthed, "Wait for me after class."

Harry growled and, not bothering with the potion any more, slumped onto his chair, clenching his hair in his hands.

*FG-HP*

"What do you want?" Harry mumbled as he found Draco standing outside in the dungeon corridor.

"That wasn't the reaction I was hoping to get from old Sluggy," Draco drawled, staring at his perfect fingernails in a bored manner.

"That wasn't my fault," Harry said warily, cautious of putting Draco in a bad mood in case the boy decided to spill his secret.

"I know," Malfoy said, finally looking up from his fingers. "I've had enough satisfaction from watching the teachers taking house points off you anyway."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"So... you'll leave me alone?" he asked incredulously. "And you won't tell?"

Draco smirked and pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on.

"Not quite. Meet me in the Paved Courtyard at eight o'clock tonight."

Harry watched the smug Slytherin walk away and couldn't help but feel slightly anxious. At least after tonight he could go back to being free from Draco's orders.

*FG-HP*

"... forgiving him that easily, 'Mione!" came Ron's voice from the common room.

Harry paused on the spiral staircase that led away from the boy's dormitories. He thought Ron and Hermione would have already left for dinner.

"But we told him not to isolate himself, and now we're isolating him!" Hermione cried frantically.

"He isolated himself in the first place! Do you remember why we stopped talking to him?" Ron asked. "You told him how worried you were and he snapped. I don't care if that thing on his neck's making his mood change; he had no right to talk to us like that."

Harry swallowed nervously, not wanting to reveal himself to his two friends. Ex-friends, he corrected.

However, when there was no sign that they were going to leave, Harry took a deep breath and quickly walked down the stone steps, making his way purposefully towards the Fat Lady portrait.

"Harry?" came Hermione's voice.

He flinched slightly before slowly turning around to face her.

"Yes?"

"Um... h-how are you?"

"Grand," he said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Why was he acting so unforgiving and heartless to one of his oldest friends? He wanted to forgive Hermione as well as apologise for his behaviour, but he found he just couldn't bring himself to form the right words.

"What's with you lately?" said Ron, getting up from the squashy sofa.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, folding his arms across his chest as though he was nonplussed.

"In class," Ron said as he took a step towards Harry, "you act different. You act like... well you act like Malfoy. I knew the mark made you act like a git, but not an arrogant one."

Harry swallowed.

"I don't know what you mean."

"So you don't remember telling Professor Slughorn you know better? Or you don't remember laughing in Professor Flitwick's face when he told you how to cast the spell correctly?"

Harry felt the prickling sensation in his eyes again, forewarning the inevitability of tears.

"No."

"What?!" Ron exclaimed.

"Harry," Hermione started, "what's going on?

He looked desperately from Ron to Hermione, wanting to tell them what Draco made him do, but Malfoy had promised that if Harry told, his secret would be out. He wasn't going to take even the smallest risk. Besides, after tonight he could go back to being himself.

"Nothing, I've got to go," he said quietly before leaving the common room, trying to ignore the squirming, guilty feeling in his stomach.

*FG-HP*

After a lonely dinner, Harry made his way to the Paved Courtyard and waited for Draco. He still had quite a while to wait until eight o'clock, so he took a seat on one of the stone benches. A gentle summer breeze ruffled Harry's hair, but he didn't notice; his mind was too preoccupied with thoughts on Ron, Hermione and – Harry shuddered – Fenrir.

He wasn't sure how he felt about Fenrir anymore. After the attack he'd feared the moment when the werewolf would come to "collect" him, but now he wasn't so sure if it was a bad thing. However, as soon as he realised that he was thinking of Fenrir as a saviour or a friend, he tried even harder to convince himself that the best path to take would be to apologise to Ron and Hermione. Every time that thought cropped up, though, a surge of pride and rage would stir inside him, convincing him that Fenrir was the answer. It was a vicious circle of thoughts that plagued Harry's mind, so he was thankful when he saw a blonde head bobbing towards him, distracting him from his thinking.

"Ah, Potter," Malfoy drawled as he reached Harry. "You showed."

Harry said nothing but rose from his bench, not feeling entirely comfortable sitting down while Draco loomed over him.

"How's that bitch-brand feeling?" the boy asked through a smirk.

"Just get on with it, Malfoy," Harry muttered, not rising to Draco's bait. However, his hand rose to his neck subconsciously and he rubbed the rough patch of skin.

"Very well," Draco said, his grin widening as he watched Harry's actions. "I was wondering, do you know what werewolf mates are supposed to do?"

The question shocked Harry so much that he actually felt his jaw drop.

"What's that got to do with anything?" he snarled.

"Just answer the question," Draco said, shrugging. "How much do you know?"

"Enough," Harry spat. He didn't even feel comfortable talking about this topic with Remus, let alone Draco Malfoy.

"Then you'll know you'll be spending a lot of time on your knees," the blonde boy said, leaning in closer to Harry so their noses were almost touching.

Harry shoved Draco away feeling absolutely disgusted at the boy's words.

"Shut up, Malfoy," he growled out.

"Listen to what I say, Potter, else you may find that everyone will know of your naughty, little problem tomorrow."

Harry stared, wide eyed, at the heartless boy before him; he licked his dry lips and, reluctantly, nodded. Draco closed the space between them again and whispered into Harry's ear, "You might need some practise first."

Harry's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what Draco was implying. Surely he wasn't suggesting that...

But then Malfoy pushed Harry's hair behind his ear and spoke directly into it.

"Practise on me," he breathed, his warm breath making Harry shudder.

"What the hell?!" Harry cried, pushing Draco away again. He felt absolutely sickened, not to mention scared; why the hell would Malfoy want that?

Draco's smile was victorious as he said, "You heard me. The Boy Who Lived, on his knees for me... such a pretty picture."

Harry's hands were shaking as he fumbled for his wand.

"I wouldn't, Potter." Harry froze, his hand in his pocket. "Unless you want your secret out I suggest you stay in my good books."

"But... that's just... why?" he managed to ask, his voice hoarse.

"I don't need a reason," Draco said with an innocent-sounding giggle. "Just do as I say and I'll make sure to take your secret to the grave."

Harry didn't know what to say – he still hadn't got his head around the fact that Draco Malfoy, pureblood, aristocratic Slytherin, wanted to do such... disreputable things with him.

"I'll give you half an hour to think on it," Draco murmured, his eyes glistening with mirth. "When you've reached the right conclusion, I'll meet you on the seventh floor in the Room of Requirement."

And he left, leaving Harry to his disturbed and fretful feelings.

*FG-HP*

Fenrir gave an almighty roar. He wasn't sure why, but he was feeling extremely angry. It was as though someone had stolen something precious of his and were planning on using it for their own purposes.

After a strike to the stone wall of the cave, Fenrir tried to calm down. However, it wasn't easy when he had the annoying, niggling feeling of someone stealing one of his possessions.

But I don't own anything, he thought to himself impatiently. Apart from...

He paused in his musings. The only thing that he had full ownership of was his mate. Was that what he was feeling? Someone was using the boy? Or maybe Potter mate was using someone for himself! Either way, Fenrir wasn't happy.

Then, as though hit with a memory-recall charm, he realised that it was the full moon. How the hell could he have forgotten? He'd been waiting almost all week for this night!

Looking up at the sky, he noticed that the sun was still setting. He cursed the summer evenings for being so bright, as the moon never really rose until half-nine, ten o'clock.

Oh well, Fenrir thought to himself. At least I can play with the kid until my change. So, in high spirits, he leapt off the rock and made his way down the mountain, heading purposefully towards the school that held his mate.

*FG-HP*

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Harry whispered desperately. It was all he had been saying for the last painful twenty-five minutes.

He was still outside, pacing the Paved Courtyard, unsure on what he should do.

There was no way he could do that sort of stuff with Malfoy! Maybe he could get away with casting a memory charm on Draco? It would help if I knew the theory for that spell, though, Harry thought bitterly.

Realising there was only three minutes left until half past eight he tried to reach a decision. He was just about to go and face Malfoy when he suddenly felt a guilty weight in his chest. This wasn't right; he wasn't supposed to go to Draco. He didn't know how he knew this, but he knew that if he went to Malfoy he would end up regretting it.

Instead he let the subconscious steps his feet were already taking lead him away from the castle. He had a vague idea of where he was going but he didn't question it. It was only when he was in the Forbidden Forest's clearing again that he realised it was the full moon. The white, ethereal glow from it crept through the trees leaving eerie shadows on the grassy circle.

His eyes widened at the stupid act he'd just committed. It was easy enough for the wolf to get Harry from inside the school, so outside Greyback would have no trouble.

"Fuck," Harry said again. He wanted to run, honestly he did, but his legs wouldn't obey him. He was rooted to the spot, even more so when he heard that chilling, rasping voice...

"Mmm, hello again, mon petite," Fenrir whispered in his mate's ear. "I've come to collect you."

A/N: *wails* COME AND COLLECT ME INSTEAD!