DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling
Chapter Seven - An Irrefutable Offer
The bold and brazen entrance Harry had envisioned died a fast death when he crossed the threshold of the crumbling farmhouse, every instinct he had screaming for him to proceed with the utmost care. Heart pounding furiously in the back of his throat, he halted just inside the doorway, his gaze sweeping the heavily shadowed foyar, searching the darkness for danger. His body tensed at the revealing groan of the floorboards beneath his feet, the very flow of air into his lungs stilling as he waited. The soft murmur of voices faded, the ensuing silence telling.
Realizing his presence within the dilapidated shack was no longer a secret, he drew a deep breath and took a wary step forward, casting his eyes over the small entrance hall. Directly ahead of him a staircase stretched upwards, its broken and crooked steps leading into the dark abyss above. He lowered his gaze, dismissing the second floor completely, his attention falling to the narrow hall that lay alongside the stairwell. His eyes narrowed on the closed portal that stood at the end of the hallway, the soft glow of candlelight emanating from beneath the door.
Glancing nervously to the left and right, he tipped his chin and inhaled. Immediately his senses were flooded with the smell of fur and wolf, the scents so strong they caused a rumble to vibrate his chest, the sound echoing in the empty foyar. Inside his skull the wolf stretched, the movement causing the muscles in his back to ripple in reaction, the unfamiliar feeling drawing a surprised gasp from between his lips.
Pack, the wolf breathed, reveling in the strong smell that was liberally spread throughout the farmhouse.
Harry tensed at the wolf's happy croon, his fingers curling as he stared at the portal. While moments ago the urge to crash into the house and assert his dominance had nearly had him foaming at the mouth, the sudden realization that he didn't know how many individuals were waiting for him had the rush of adrenaline fading. The urge to shift in his uncertainty was strong, but the urge to retain some measure of stealth was stronger, keeping his feet planted firmly upon the dusty boards.
He lifted his nose and sniffed, attempting to discern exactly how many werewolves were within the room at the end of the corridor, and failing. With the cool winter wind whipping through the cracks in the windows and stirring the air around, there was no way to hone in on the most recent scents. No way for him to tell how many of the werewolves that had passed through the door remained.
The decision on how he should proceed was ripped from his hands when the closed door was dragged open abruptly, the hinges groaning in protest as light flooded the hallway. Blinking against the sudden brightness, he turned his head and lifted a hand to shield his sensitive eyes, nearly yelping in surprise at finding himself almost nose to nose with Andrej, the first blond from the clearing. He stumbled backwards to put space between them, knocking into something tall and hard and equally living in the process. Again he spun, swinging to face the tall form of the second werewolf from earlier, the male's pale eyes staring down at him in bored patience.
"We're waiting, Harry."
Flinching at the melodic purr, the dark-haired wizard turned to face the doorway, ignoring the pair of werewolves that had materialized silently at his elbows. His eyes locked with the amber orbs of Fenrir, a chill creeping up his spine at the strange gleam in the glowing spheres. He swallowed loudly, gritting his teeth at the soft chuckle that escaped the blond to his right, the sound grating on his already strained nerves. Shooting the male a baleful glare, Harry straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin, gathering his waning courage before beginning to pace down the narrow hall. His pulse leapt as he drew closer to Fenrir, the wolf within his head falling silent, growing more watchful with every step he took.
Stepping aside, Fenrir waved Harry in, urging him toward an empty chair at the round table. "Come in," he said, his tone brisk. "Have a seat." His gaze followed the younger male across the room, silently judging his reaction to the icy reception he was receiving.
Muscles tense, Harry walked stiffly across the kitchen, his hands balling into fists as he drew abreast of the small group seated around the table. Movements cautious, he bypassed the only remaining chair in the room, choosing instead to put his back against the wall on the far side of the chamber. Almost immediately he felt safer, the fear of being attacked reduced by the pressure of the wall between his shoulder blades. Folding his arms nervously across his chest, the dark-haired wizard scanned the room quickly, trying to pretend he wasn't the sole object of several extremely hateful stares.
Besides the warped floorboards and cracked counter tops, the room boasted few fixtures other than the circular table. A scattering of mismatched chairs were placed about the room, all of them occupied by individuals of a decidedly shady nature. Candles of varying colours and heights flickered gently along the counter, held upright only by the wax gobbed around their bases. Harry's eyes slowed when they reached Malfoy, taking in the blond's almost protective position behind the large chair sitting before the cold hearth. Curious at the blond's posture, he lowered his gaze to the bundle of dirty rags sitting on the faded cushion, his entire body stiffening in surprise. There, curled into a little ball and sleeping like Hagrid's Fluffy, was the hazel-eyed brat who'd bitten him.
Alpha, the wolf breathed through his skull. The reverent whisper startled Harry, not because he hadn't been expecting it, but because his eyes were still focused on the young boy. Shock was a slap in the face, disbelief jerking his wide orbs up to Malfoy's. He nearly began to shake his head, incredulous at the very thought that a child would be in charge of him. It was the look on Draco's face that stopped him, had him clenching his hands and shifting his attention to Fenrir Greyback.
A small smile curling his lips, Fenrir paced toward the fireplace and halted, staring down at the sleeping toddler with eyes that flashed triumphantly. "So, you want to join us?" He questioned finally, the amused drawl drawing chuckles from the quietly observing werewolves.
Harry stiffened, his nails biting into his palms as he fought down the urge to leap on the nearest male and tear out his throat. "Yes," he said from between grit teeth. A rumble slid up his throat and spilled over his lips at the wave of snickers that rose in the wake of the confession. Eyes narrowed, he refocused on Fenrir, tamping down the steady stream of growls vibrating his chest. "When will you tell Voldemort?" He may as well of asked Greyback if he was planning on exchanging Valentines with the other Death Eaters this coming February fourteenth.
"Voldemort? That snake-faced bastard! Thinks he has the right to put me - Fenrir Greyback- on a leash! I'll show him!-"
Fenrir's reaction to the question was completely unexpected, his howl of fury causing Harry to cringe and press back against the wall. Eyes widening at the explosion, the dark-haired male swept a nervous glance around the room, trying to figure out whether or not this was an unusual occurrence. Much to his surprise, the group appeared completely unfazed by the snarling werewolf waving his arms wildly in the center of the kitchen.
Even as he watched, Andrej and Steve began a whispered conversation, the taller werewolf nodding his head in agreement with something the smaller said. Standing in the corner, Draco ticked something off on his fingers, composing some internal list. Brows drawing down, Harry returned his attention to Fenrir, watching as the crazed werewolf prowled back and forth in the small space and bellowed unhappily.
"We are not dogs to be called to heel! We are wolves! We should be respected and feared, not forced to grovel before some pathetic excuse for a wizard!"
It took Harry a moment to figure out what the problem with the entire scene was, and then another to try and grasp the meaning of it. Now, he would never claim to be the smartest wizard at Hogwarts, but he was capable of putting two and two together. And in this case, it was sounding a lot like Fenrir Greyback didn't really get along with Voldemort. Confusion crowded his mind as his eyes followed the werewolf's pacing form. Weren't Voldemort and Greyback supposed to be great buddies? All the rumours he'd ever heard about the pair based their partnership on a mutual dislike of the Ministry of Magic. Yet the rant he was listening to at that second seemed to completely dispel that theory.
In fact, at this point in time, Harry figured it would be safe to say that the only thing Greyback really did like was the moon - and that was probably an extremely awkward one-sided relationship. The raven-haired male lifted his head when he realized silence had fallen over the kitchen, the only noise the whistle of the wind and the heavy, panting breaths falling from Greyback's mouth.
"Papa? What's the matter?"
Harry's gaze flew from Greyback to the chair before the cold hearth, the sparking emeralds landing on the small boy curled upon the cushion. The hazel eyes that haunted his nightmares turned to him, widening as a look of wonderment crossed the child's pale features. Within his head the wolf stirred, pressed forward, eager to interact with the younger werewolf.
"Harry Potter," the boy breathed, "you came."
Practically quivering with his anxiety, Harry stared at the boy, his fingers curling and uncurling. He stiffened when the child slipped liquidly from the chair, tension thickening the air as the younger male approached him eagerly, seeming completely unaware of the tensing of the dark-haired wizard's body. Although his focus remained on the small boy, he was aware of the precise moment Steve and Andrej peeled away from the far wall, the duo moving quietly forward to flank the child.
"I didn't think you'd come," the boy chattered happily, his reddish-brown orbs glittering in the candlelight. "But Draco said you would. He said that Harry Potter would never miss an opportunity to fuck up Voldemort's carefully laid plans."
Harry's eyes widened, whether it was from the child's guileless use of the f-word or the fact that Draco Malfoy actually believed he was capable of accomplishing something, it was hard to tell. Swallowing, he darted a quick look at the blond, surprised to see the other wizard's cheeks were flushed a delicate shade of scarlet. His eyes returned to the young werewolf, surprise causing him to attempt a step backwards at the boy's unexpected proximity.
"Draco said you had a hero complex that caused you to do idiotic things," the boy announced from a mere foot away. He blinked his hazel eyes innocently, peering up at the raven-haired male without a care in the world. To either side of him, Steve and Andrej shifted, inching forward.
"Jaime!" Draco hissed, his eyes flashing platinum with his anger. He dared a look at Harry, trying to appear aloof when he found the other wizard's eyes on him. "What did we tell you about repeating gossip?"
"To only do it if it's worthy of repeating," the boy replied promptly, his attention never wavering from Harry.
Having grown impatient with the exchange, Harry lifted his chin. "Why was I changed then? If not on Voldemort's orders, than why?" He yelled. The reaction the outraged bellow garnered was unexpected. Chairs crashed to the floor and the rickety table toppled, undoubtedly shoved aside by one of the overeager werewolves charging toward him. He had little time to react, barely managing to clench his fist before he was slammed back against the wall. His head struck the faded wallpaper with such force that the dry wood supporting it snapped. Howling angrily, he kicked and swung mindlessly.
"Enough." With one softly spoken word, Fenrir brought order back to the kitchen. His amber orbs glittered dangerously as they swept over the group, taking in their bloody noses and knuckles with a displeased frown. "I bring a guest into our home and this is how you treat him? Like a bunch of rabid squirrels? Get out, the lot of you."
From his place on the floor, Harry watched the werewolves slink from the kitchen, their heads hanging guiltily. Gingerly probing his nose, he pushed himself shakily to his feet, leaning back against the crumbling wall as soon as he was standing. He turned his head at a flash of movement, finding Malfoy still standing in his corner, Jaime pressed back against his legs. The wolf cringed within him, its guilt and shame over its thoughtlessness overshadowing Harry's own emotions. Clamping his lips closed to contain the apology that threatened to spill out, the dark-haired wizard looked to Fenrir for answers.
Arching a brow, Fenrir flicked his fingers at the kitchen table, the gesture sending Steve and Andrej leaping into action. The pair righted the table and then returned to their former positions without a word. Glowing eyes resting on Harry, the tall werewolf prowled across the narrow kitchen, halting directly in front of the younger male. "I don't tolerate impudence within my house, whelp." Greyback growled, his right-hand flashing out and connecting quite firmly with Harry's left cheek.
The force of the blow sent Harry back to the ground, a pained gasp escaping his mouth. His eyes watered at the sting from the slap, the sudden pain allowing him to forget his aching nose. "Sorry," he mumbled, cupping his burning cheek.
"Pardon?" Fenrir said, leaning forward aggressively.
Lowering his hand, Harry took a deep breath and repeated the apology. "I'm sorry." He stiffened in preparation for another blow, another blow that never came. Before he realized what had happened, he found himself standing, Greyback's hands locked around his biceps.
"Good boy," Greyback murmured approvingly, releasing the young wizard and stepping away from him. "Now, what was the question you asked me in such an impolite tone?"
Eyes focused on the floor, Harry drew a deep breath and then lifted his chin. "Why was I changed?" His hands fisted at his sides, waiting for the explosion that would surely follow the question.
Slowly releasing Malfoy's legs, Jaime stepped forward to stand in front of Harry. Appearing much older than he was, he peered solemnly up at the dark-haired wizard, his small hands clasped tightly together before him. After a moment of hesitation, he answered the question in a soft whisper. "To chase away the monsters." He lowered his gaze immediately after making the confession, not daring to meet the older boy's glowing orbs.
"Monsters?" Harry repeated, dumbfounded. His brow drew down as he stared at the top of Jaime's head, wondering what beast could be so fearsome as to scare a young boy who was doted on by a pack of ferocious werewolves. That thought had him shifting nervously and glancing about the room. The wave of fear that swept through him was only intensified by the fact that the remainder of the pack still assembled in the kitchen refused to meet his eyes, glancing quickly away when his gaze landed on them. They were all afraid, he realized. Slowly, he drew a deep breath and returned his attention to Jaime. "What monsters?" He asked, surprised at how calm his voice sounded.
Jaime pressed back against Malfoy's legs, his small frame vibrating with his anxiety. He ignored the question, pretending he hadn't heard it as he focused his attention on the way the boards under his feet squeaked when he shifted. The question was repeated twice more before he lifted his gaze, a gentle nudge from behind silently urging him to answer. "The ones in the white masks," he admitted in a mumble.
Harry's chin flew up at the revelation, his eyes widening. His lips moved around a silent whisper, his gaze unintentionally locking with Malfoy's. For one long second he stared into those shimmering silver orbs, unable to comprehend the information he'd just been given, and then the blond blinked, breaking the connection. Drawing a deep breath, the dark-haired wizard turned his head, searching out Fenrir. "Death Eaters," he finally managed, though the name of Voldemort's servants emerged as more of a croak than an actual word. Heads bobbed in unison, each individual in the room silently signaling that he was correct.
"Very good," Fenrir murmured, gazing across the kitchen through eyes veiled by dark lashes. He pushed away from the counter in a liquid movement, flowing across the cracked floorboards with the grace of a dancer - or a hunting wolf. "Death Eaters. And subsequently, their Master: Voldemort. Did you know, Harry, that you're the thing Death Eater nightmares are made of? They whisper your name fearfully, as if merely speaking of you will bring your wand down upon their heads."
Harry shook his head, mute. His eyes followed Fenrir's pacing form, his mind racing in uncomprehending circles. What did him becoming a werewolf have to do with the bad dreams of Death Eaters? And if not on Voldemort's orders, why had he been changed?
"You're going to win this war, Potter, only it won't be for Dumbledore and his Ministry. It will be for us: the forgotten ones. The ones respected by none yet used by everyone. All we've ever been is tools, but you're going to change that. With you, the Saviour of the Wizarding World a werewolf, things are going to have to change," Fenrir purred, his amber orbs flashing victoriously. A wild laugh fell from his mouth and he spun around, gliding across the kitchen toward the window that looked out over the snow-covered meadow. "You'll kill Voldemort, as originally prophesied. Only the credit won't go to the wizards, it'll go to the werewolves."
Harry could only gape at Greyback. Without meaning to, he shot a narrow eyed look at Malfoy; he clearly remembered asking the blond if Fenrir was as crazy as rumoured and getting a disparaging remark about 'moon madness'. Personally, he thought it was probably a little more than an unusual infatuation with the moon. Yep, he figured it was safe to say that Fenrir Greyback was certifiable.
"Draco, take Harry and return to Hogwarts. I'll contact you when it's time for us to meet again." With nary a wave or a goodbye, Fenrir swept from the kitchen, leaving the group staring silently after him.
More than a little nervous, Harry shifted, his eyes sliding from the door to the young boy still standing in front of him. He stared down into those glittering hazel orbs, the look in them mirroring the look he'd seen in dozens of other eyes over the past few years - like he held the answers to all their problems. Swallowing, he slid his eyes away, finding Malfoy where he stood before the fireplace, pale eyes cast upward.
As if sensing his gaze, the blond lowered his chin, his lips pursed and a thoughtful look on his features. "It's past your bedtime, Jaime," Draco murmured softly, pushing away from the wall and shooing the child away from Harry.
"Good-bye, Harry Potter," Jaime said in a whisper. He glided across the kitchen silently, pausing in the doorway to glance back at the older wizard. "You will come back, won't you?"
Even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't deny that quiet plea, the wolf in his head already giving its ready agreement to return. Harry managed a small nod of his head in affirmation, the hopeful gleam in the child's eyes too much to destroy. The wolf nearly crooned at the delighted smile that crossed the boy's features right before he vanished around the corner. Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, Harry looked at Malfoy, wondering what would happen next.
"Come," Draco murmured quietly, leading the way from the kitchen and down the darkened hall.
Harry trailed Malfoy from the house, nearly putting a foot through the bottom step as he glanced back over his shoulder. The blond's soft chuckle narrowed his eyes and dragged his head around, an answering rumble rising in his throat. He swallowed the growl when the blond peered back at him with interest, flashing teeth and eyes that glittered with promise. Still feeling slightly bruised from the pounding he'd taken earlier, the dark-haired wizard dropped his gaze and glowered at the toes of his boots, following along silently behind the blond.
Together, the pair moved quietly down the narrow trail carved out between the trees. Clouds passed across the moon, casting the forest in darkness, erasing the path from sight. Snow began to filter down between the branches, whispering softly as it landed. Squinting in an effort to see the unfamiliar trail, Harry drew closer to Malfoy, earning a quirked brow in response.
Flushing lightly, Harry scanned the surrounding forest, searching for movement among the trees. "So, Malfoy," he said into the uncomfortable silence. "What made you decide to join Greyback?" The blond flinched noticeably at the question, his shoulders tensing and an expressionless mask sliding across his features
Draco lengthened his stride in an effort to put distance between them, attempting to suppress the shudder that rode him. He was unable to stop himself from scanning the shadows nervously, his hands curling into fists within his pockets. Exhaling slowly, he forced himself to relax, rolling his shoulders and unclenching his fingers. His eyes lifted to the sky, locking on the slip of moon left visible between the dark clouds. Potter would, in time, hear the story of how Draco Malfoy had joined Greyback's pack, he reasoned. Better it be from a reliable source rather than one of the lowly gossip-loving mutts back at the farmhouse, he thought. Lowering his gaze, he slowed his pace, allowing the dark-haired wizard to draw even with him. "It was a Saturday night in October," he began, "When I was made an irrefutable offer."
XxXxX
Draco slipped between the heavy velvet drapes separating the ballroom from the garden terrace, his boots tapping quietly on the paving stones. Immediately, the loud hum of voices faded, replaced by the soothing chirp of crickets. He drew a deep breath and tipped his face up to the night sky, staring at the stars glittering upon the black expanse above. The ache that had been growing behind his right temple began to wane, the cool night air chasing the flush from his cheeks.
With a relieved sigh, he dropped his elbows to the stone banister that circled the balcony, enjoying the peace and solitude of the night. Absently, he lifted his hands to the silver tie that collared him, loosening the silk with several light tugs, freeing himself momentarily from the image he was expected to project to the assembled Death Eaters. A short reprieve he was in desperate need of, he thought with a grimace. The judging eyes and acidic tongues of the older Death Eaters were beginning to get to him, their silver coated criticisms tightening his muscles and bringing a cold sweat to his skin.
Staring out at the shadow shrouded garden, he slid a hand into the inner pocket of his dress robes and withdrew the flask that rested against his breastbone. He idly traced the winding pattern engraved into the metal, his fingers stilling when they reached the cap. With a delicate twist of his digits, he freed the stopper, his lips curving as the heady smell of premium Fire Whiskey brushed his nose. Closing his eyes, he raised the flask and swallowed deeply, welcoming the slow burn that rose in the whiskey's wake.
"Care to share, Malfoy?"
Draco's silver orbs flew open at the raspy voice, his hand tightening around the flask. Slowly, he turned to face the intruder, capping the flask and sliding it away even as he stared into a pair of golden spheres that glittered unnaturally. "My, Greyback, you're looking frighteningly . . . sane this evening," he purred, his fingers curling around his wand as they exited his pocket.
"Hah," the grizzled werewolf replied, slipping free of the shadows, "You know how deceiving appearances can be."
"Indeed," Draco murmured, his eyes flicking nervously in the direction of the velvet draped doorway. He silently pondered his chances of reaching the safety of the ballroom before Greyback went into one of the rages he was so well known for, his focus snapping back to the werewolf when he began a liquid glide across the terrace. The first tendrils of true fear uncurled within his stomach when Greyback circled around him, placing himself quite pointedly in front of the only safe exit off the terrace. Raising his wand in warning, Draco took a calming breath and leaned back against the banister, attempting to present the image of bored nonchalance. "I didn't realize you'd been invited to this particular event."
Giving the younger wizard a toothy grin, Greyback replied, "Oh, I wasn't." His amber orbs dropped to the wand the blond held before him, an amused smile twisting his lips. "Afraid of something, Malfoy?"
"Of course not," Draco snapped, gritting his teeth when Greyback's grin grew and he tapped the side of his nose knowingly.
"That's good, especially since we're all on the same side. All of us faithfully serving Lord Voldemort." Fenrir murmured, the slightest hint of what could have been sarcasm slipping into the words. He tipped his head to the side as he studied the blond, seemingly searching for something.
"I don't know what you're implying, Greyback, but I can assure you-"
A sharp snarl interrupted Draco's retort, the sound causing him to flinch. As his eyes darted over the werewolf's shoulder and his heart leapt into a frantic gallop, he internally debated whether or not he was too proud to scream for help. Unfortunately, Greyback was quicker.
Encircling the blond's throat with one large hand and grasping his right wrist with the other, Fenrir pressed the young wizard back against the stone banister, slowly tightening his grip. He smiled down into Draco's reddening face, watching the blond gasp for breath, enjoying the interwoven smells of fear and pain wafting from the pale skin. "I could kill you right now," he breathed, "And not a single individual within that room would care. Well, your parent's might - but I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you." Greyback chortled at his own joke and then released the younger wizard carelessly, watching him sink to the flagstones.
Draco inhaled greedily, filling his burning lungs with desperately needed air. He stared longingly in the direction of the doorway, praying for someone - anyone- to walk through the velvet curtains. Greyback shifted casually before him, the movement causing him to flinch unconsciously, pressing closer against the stone columns of the railing. Wide eyes locked on the werewolf, he began a cautious search for his wand, smoothing his hands slowly across the paving stones beneath him.
"Unlike your doting parents, Draco, I take care of my children. Protect them from the things that go bump in the night. Shield them from that which would seek to harm them." Staring down at the blond's bowed head, Greyback's expression softened, the cruel light leaving his shimmering orbs. "Which is why I came looking for you. You see, I'm about to make a serious . . . investment, shall we say, in my family's future. Unfortunately, due to certain restrictions, I'll be unable to properly monitor my investment. And considering the volatile nature of this investment, I find that highly unacceptable."
Brow furrowing, Draco lifted his chin, staring at Greyback curiously. His fingers slowed their frantic search, stilling upon the cold flagstones. "What are you talking about?" He rasped, raising a hand to his bruised throat.
Taking a small step away from the blond's crouched form, Greyback met the cautious silver eyes peering up at him, a humourless smile curving his mouth. "I'm about to make you an offer, Draco Malfoy. You see, you're in a perfect position to keep an eye on my investment for me. I, in turn, will provide you with a loving family and the complete protection of my pack." Tipping his head back, the werewolf gazed thoughtfully at the moon, a loving expression transforming his face as a wolf bayed softly in the distance. "Let's face it, Malfoy, this little . . . gala is nothing more than a sacrificial ceremony presenting you to the Dark Lord as new Death Eater fodder. You'll become nothing more than a tool. One which is easily broken and quickly discarded, might I add."
Licking his lips, Draco shot a nervous glance in the direction of the doorway, internally wondering if this was some sort of test. It did sound too good; an easy escape from the life he was being forced into A life he wanted nothing to do with. "I don't understand," he breathed, staring up at Greyback.
"With your complete agreement, you'll be Bitten, changing that pure blood flowing through your veins into something like nothing else. You'll become a member of my pack: a werewolf." Greyback shifted suddenly, his head snapping around and his eyes narrowing on the slightly swaying curtains. He spun around and took two quick steps, closing the distance he'd put between himself and Draco. "If you want to accept, you'll be at this address the night of the next full moon." Shoving a small card into the blond's shaking hand, Fenrir vaulted over the railing, dropping down into the darkened garden and vanishing.
Draco stared intently at the narrow slip of parchment in his hand, flinching when someone called his name from several feet away. His fingers closed around the scrap of paper, crumpling it into a little ball as his eyes darted upwards to meet the narrowed orbs of his father. Swallowing, he pushed himself to his feet, his eyes never leaving those of the wizard before him. "I was just taking a moment to catch my breath," he said quietly.
"Really," Lucius Malfoy drawled, his eyes scanning the terrace in a disbelieving fashion. Pursing his lips, he returned his attention to Draco, frowning at his son's dangling tie and crumpled robes. "Straighten your robes and get back inside. Lord Voldemort is asking after you and he doesn't like to be kept waiting." Shooting his son one last disapproving glare, Lucius whirled around and prowled back into the ballroom.
Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, Draco leaned back against the railing and closed his eyes. He attempted to slow his racing heart and calm his breathing. He opened his eyes several seconds later, straightening the silver tie and then smoothing his hands down his chest, pausing when he realized he still held the crumpled up piece of parchment in the palm of his hand. Glancing in the direction of the doorway, he carefully smoothed its edges, staring at the address scrawled across the stained parchment. He raised his gaze to the curtains tauntingly swaying before him, his fingers neatly folding the paper and sliding it into his pocket. Drawing a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders and glided through the drapes, pushing the conversation into the depths of his mind for later dissection.
XxXxX
"And here we are," Draco finished, halting and turning to stare at Harry. "Me watching you, guarding Greyback's investment as it were." He glanced away from the gaping wizard, realizing they'd reached the point where they could safely apparate back to Hogwarts. Sweeping the surrounding forest with cautious eyes, he extended a hand toward the other werewolf.
"You knew Greyback was going to change me and you did nothing about it?" Harry sputtered, stomping to a halt directly in front of the blond. In the faint moonlight, the other werewolf's eyes shimmered platinum, the glittering orbs narrowing at his tone. He stiffened at the growl of warning that vibrated Malfoy's chest, an answering snarl spilling over his lips.
Curling a lip, Draco glared at the dark-haired wizard, wiggling his fingers impatiently. "The offer was practically impossible to deny, Potter. And frankly, in my opinion, me remaining Dark Mark free greatly outweighed your continued existence as a weak blooded wizard."
"Not to me it didn't!" Harry snapped, reaching out to slap away Malfoy's extended hand.
With a lightening quick movement, Draco locked his fingers around Harry's wrist, apparating them back to the Forbidden Forest with a single thought. He released the other wizard on arrival, watching him stumble on the uneven path and nearly land on his face in the snow. "Calm down, Harry," he said quietly, turning around and peering in the direction of Hogsmeade. His ears picked up the dark-haired wizard's frustrated huff, the corner of his mouth hitching upwards in amusement. "We need to get back to the castle before someone notices we're missing."
"You're such a git," Harry hissed, catching his balance and whirling around. He glared angrily at the blond's back, hands balled into fists at his sides.
Glancing back at the dark-haired wizard, Draco gave a delicate lift of his shoulders, seeming completely unmoved by the insult. "Your circumstances have changed, Harry, and there's nothing you can do about it. You're a werewolf now, so live with it . . . or don't." That said, the blond trudged through the snow toward Hogsmeade, slipping quietly between the trees. He was dimly aware of Potter stomping along behind him, the other male cursing and snarling softly beneath his breath. Stopping just inside the tree line, Draco stared at the darkened village, internally wishing he was already back at Hogwarts curled up within his warm bed. Harry appeared in his peripheral vision and paused there, shadowed eyes studying Hogsmeade, his expression unreadable.
"Gift? Or Curse? Is that how you choose to see it, Malfoy?" Harry asked somberly. Snow sifted down through the branches of the tree he stood beneath, the cold flakes unerringly finding the back of his exposed neck. He reached back and dusted the flakes away, his eyes never leaving the sleeping hamlet.
Certain that they were alone, Malfoy stepped free of the forest and turned in the direction of Hogwarts, flipping the hood of his cloak up to hide his face. Gift, he internally scoffed. What kind of gift got you thrown from your home? Got you disowned and disinherited? All done very quietly, of course. So quietly in fact that the whispers had yet to reach Hogwarts of Lucius Malfoy's decision or the reason thereof. He turned his head and glared at Harry, the memories still too fresh to share, especially with someone like Perfect Potter. "I see it like it is," he growled, eyes flashing. He jerked his gaze back to the road that led to Hogwarts, drawing ahead of Harry in hopes of staving off any further discussion.
Harry rolled his eyes at the blond's sudden mood swing. He allowed Malfoy to draw ahead of him, aiming a kick at the snow alongside the road, sending a small flurry of white arcing into the night sky. How could anyone see this as a gift, he wondered, falling farther behind the other wizard. True, he could heal any wound inflicted upon him. And the added strength was a definite bonus. But the whole losing control under the full moon thing was a major turnoff. Pursing his lips, he turned his gaze in Malfoy's direction, noting the blond's sudden change of pace. Brow furrowing, he lengthened his stride and swept the shadows with cautious eyes.
"What is-" He snapped his mouth closed when Draco lifted a hand in warning. Halting alongside the blond, he glanced quickly at the other wizard's face, recognizing the predatory expression on the normally aristocratic features. Tension gripping him, he searched the shadows warily, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. A familiar smell teased his nose, turning him slowly toward the path's edge. The soft crunch of snow whipped his head around, his flashing orbs finding Remus in the darkness. A surprised snarl was ripped free of his mouth, the sound echoed by Malfoy. "Remus," he stated through grit teeth, barely sparing Draco a glance as the blond drew abreast of him.
"Harry," Remus returned quietly, his gaze darting back and forth between the odd pair. "And Draco Malfoy." His hands balled into fists at the implication of their combined presence, the feeling enough to set his teeth on edge. He took a step forward and then froze, his nose twitching almost violently and his eyes widening. Malfoy was a werewolf. It was in the blond's scent; in the unnatural glitter of his gray eyes.
"Former Professor Lupin," Draco purred, "How nice to see you again." He could easily have said more, thrown fuel on the proverbial fire, but he held his tongue. Instead, he shifted slightly, taking one small step backwards, placing Harry firmly in the dominant position.
Eyes slitting on the blond, Remus returned his attention to Harry, staring at the younger wizard with a hopelessness that was fast turning to dread. "You weren't in your room. Nor were you in the library. In fact, you weren't in the castle at all." Holding the dark-haired wizard's gaze, he lifted a hand, displaying the stained and wrinkled Marauder's Map.
"You went through my things?" Harry growled, hackles rising. He took a predatory step forward, consciously aware of Draco's form moving alongside him. While he may have appeared extremely pissed off to the casual observer, inside he was crying at yet another betrayal heaped upon his head by his former friend and mentor. The last one, he thought grimly, knuckles cracking as he fisted his hands.
Remus retreated several steps, eyes locked on the pair prowling toward him. Alone, either of the duo could do severe damage, but together, they presented a threat he was unwilling to face. "On Dumbledore's orders," he said briskly, defending his actions while using the statement to distract from the fact he was pulling his wand free of his heavy winter cloak. "Now, I'm going to ask you both very nicely to accompany me back to Hogwarts." He held his breath as he raised his wand, not knowing how the order would be received.
The pair halted their forward prowl at the wand's appearance. Neither said a word for several seconds, both staring at Remus and his wand before glancing at each other. Finally, Harry gave a barely perceptible nod and took a small step backwards, clearly giving Malfoy permission to act as the spokesperson for the duo.
Draco turned glittering orbs on the older wizard, taking in his position and scent before calmly arching a brow. "It obviously escaped your notice, Lupin, but we were already heading in that direction," he drawled sarcastically, slipping a hand under Harry's arm and giving him a light shove. Lupin was afraid, it was easily discernible in his smell and the slight waver in his voice when he spoke.
Curling a lip at the insolent tone, Remus flicked his wand in the direction of Hogwarts, urging the pair onward. "That may be so, Mister Malfoy, but I doubt your final destination was going to be the Headmaster's office." He nearly heaved a relieved sigh when Harry and Malfoy resumed their course.
Side by side, Harry and Draco walked toward the castle glowing in the distance, very much aware of the wizard following along behind them. They exchanged a sidelong glance, each realizing that they'd have their own part to play in the coming meeting, and not knowing exactly what that part would be. The only thing they were certain of - it was time to choose a side.
A/n: Um, oops? Sorry guys, it's been a long and busy . . . year. Between work, a new boyfriend, and new kitten, I've been extremely busy. Also, this chapter was very hard to write, so many different parts coming together. Anyway, thank you all once again for the many wonderful reviews. They do give me added encouragement to keep writing - knowing that you're still reading. Thank you!