Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter Warnings: This one has some language that ends up being pretty bad.
He dreamed of mixing colors, needles, sharp pain, and blank eyes staring at him. All he could do in any of his dreams was fight, scream, and in the end fall submissively into the fetal position and hold himself.
Sometimes he thought he could feel cold stones, smooth scales, hot moist gusts of air, or even soft fur beneath him, but he couldn't ever see in those parts of his dreams, all he could see was darkness, and red mist.
Gentle shaking awoke him again, his body was less sore this time, but the stabbing pains ached, and his body felt wretched. He almost swore he could feel the blood in his veins, it felt like thick silt, sludging through delicate veins and arteries aggressively.
He cracked open an eye, and saw Blaise again. He opened his mouth to talk, but no sound came out, just a foreign hoarse croak. Blaise shoved water at him again, and Draco realized that this time, he had woken sitting up, his back against a cold hard stone wall. He slowly opened his mouth, and allowed his friend to pour the lukewarm, metallic water into his mouth. Swallowing hurt, and his stomach felt foreign and angry as soon as the water hit it. It was colder in this room, than in the place he had been before.
"How long?" He managed, before he deteriorated into coughs that send stabs of excruciating pain through his chest.
"Since we took the mark? Uh probably, six weeks? Since the last time you were fully awake? A few weeks?" He sounded like he was unsuccessfully trying to sound flippant and unconcerned.
Draco narrowed his eyes, but his friend blithely ignored his gaze and made himself busy smoothing his shirts wrinkles busily.
Draco tried to reach out to grab Blaise's arm, and paused. His arm was bandaged with filthy strips of cloth, and his elbows, inner elbows stung, and were more heavily bandaged. He stopped, and started to yank at his bandages. Blaise reached out and looked like he might try to stop him, but for once a venomous glare from Draco actually stopped him.
He tore at the cheesecloth angrily, not caring how badly the rough cloth dragging over his skin felt. His inner elbows were badly bruised, and his arms were covered in deep punctures everywhere except where his dark mark lay, stark and ugly.
He raised his eyes slowly to his friend in questioning. What the hell…
The look on his friends eyes just read pity and horror, and Draco bit his lip lightly, and gasped with pain. His hand flew to his lips, and came away with a dark red sticky liquid. Blood looked darker than he remembered and made him feel sicker than he remembered. He slowly touched his teeth with his fingers. Sharp, feral, more sensitive than he remembered.
"What?" He managed to rasp out, hoping that his friend would be able to work out what he meant.
"Oh, god, Malfoy," He began, which was a bad sign, since Blaise nearly always referred to Draco by his first name, "It's just that you got bitten, and your dad, he told the Dark- him, you know, well your dad told him to do whatever he wanted with the likes of you, to make you useful, and well they had tried this on muggles with mixed results, and never on a wizard, much less a proper, strong pure blood, and well, it went well, and then they just they wouldn't stop, and when it was you know, full, a full moon, or whatever, well you went wild, and almost attacked Him, and they were angry, and wanted to control you, and well they just they wanted a hybrid and you took it so much better your magic really took it you know and I just, they, you, you, you haven't even been human in weeks, and when you switched back, they finally backed off, but the dark lord said he wanted to see if you could be a weapon, and I just…"
Blaise's voice came fast, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a fast, and strained tone of voice as if he was trying to choke out the story as fast as possible, to get it over with. He stopped, trailing off, looking helpless and aggressively fidgeted with the hem of his dirty shirt.
"Bitten?" Draco said slowly. "Hybrid? Wh- Wait. What do you mean I haven't been human in weeks?"
He began to feel a numb shock wash over him. Punctures. Bites. He was covered in bites. He looked at Blaise in horror and grabbed his forearm, tight with both hands.
"You're… You're a lot of things Draco… He said he needs a pureblood weapon he can trust and control… And since you were, you know, bitten, by Greyback, you, you turned into a wolf and leaped at him, and he thought that, I don't know, that fearlessness, would come through…. And then… well… they tried biting you more, a lot, on the next night, and tried to see if you were stronger, and then, well, he got… vampire blood, and dragons blood, and phoenix- well any highly magical blood he could get a hold of. Then the next month when you transformed, he did the last one, he did this blood ritual thing, I don't really know, I wasn't there, and he said you were semi conscious, and he wanted to work on controlling you. He challenged you I think, or bullied you I don't know but you stayed an animal, and then he had you do magic, just kept torturing until you did things, I don't know, I think he could understand you, and he just, you, I don't know he got you to transform back and forth a lot and do magic and, I don't know all I know is you came back and you wouldn't wake up and you stayed a big bloody fucking terrifying wolf for ages, even during the day, and I just…"
Blaise kept babbling uncertainly, but Draco felt himself tune his friend out… He was… What?
"Blaise, what am I? Exactly?" His voice was curt, or it tried to be but he was hoarse, from screaming he assumed.
"I… I don't know? I think some sort of werewolf, but he pumped all this strained magical blood into you, to try to get you to control your transformations, and Yaxley thinks that maybe it modified the werewolf gene, and you might be able to maintain your mind, but not on the full moon I think, since they let you run with the… you know, them…"
His friend was gesturing helplessly around the room wildly as if to paint Draco a picture.
A what.
A filthy, half breed, non human…
He was worse than a fucking house elf, lower than anything, why would father let his good, clean blood be used for this, why had this even, his family needed him, and now he was a lowly cruel murderous beast with filthy, angry tendencies, and a demonic life goal…
His self-hatred and disgust must have showed on his face, because the other boy fell silent and swallowed heavily. Suddenly, in the distance, Draco heard footsteps. He remembered last time, when Blaise had had to run, he probably was forbidden from being here.
"Footsteps," He hissed shoving Blaise away, ignoring his screaming, stiff muscles. Blaise looked momentarily surprised, then blinked and his eyes darted to the door. He gave Draco one last helpless look, and slunk out the door into the dingy, damp passage way.
Draco took a deep breath, and sat up, not allowing himself to sag helplessly against the wall. He took a sip of the water, and steeled himself for who was going to enter.
The door swung open, and in swept three wizards. One, Fenrir Greyback, hardly qualified as a wizard, his filthy, greasy hair and smile oozing into the room.
Draco bowed feebly, as well as he could, chained to the wall, careful to not make eye contact with Greyback, Snape, or the Dark Lord. His back hurt, screaming as he bowed feebly. Of course, no one bothered acknowledging him, but if he hadn't bowed someone would have probably killed him or something.
"So, now what is left for him to be effective?" The Dark Lords high cold voice will never not chill Draco to his weary bones.
"He now, must learn control. If he can control, and remain sane through all this, then he will be able to use his magic in any form. We've strengthened, and changed the Lycanthropy gene enough to allow for that as well as if he learns to maintain himself, he should be able to work his magic, and should be able to control all of his transformations save those on the nights he is exposed to the moon."
Snape spoke coldly, distractedly, ignoring Draco's pleading, confused eyes. Draco refused to take his eyes from his potions professor. His mind was slurred, confused, and he couldn't understand anything but he knew he didn't want to look at either other man. All he could remember from Snape's speech was the word Control. Control. He almost laughed, a wild giggle, he had never lacked this much control in his entire life. He was chained up, he didn't feel human, he didn't know where he had been for the past month and a half or what had happened to him, and he didn't even know what anyone was talking about.
He giggled finally, a wild grief stricken choked laugh, and it hurt his sore and tender bones. All the men stopped to give him looks. Snape's, severe, Greyback's, enraged at the disrespect, The Dark Lord's, slightly annoyed, as if a pet cat had peed on the floor.
Their voices felt distant when they started to talk again.
A word had just come into focus. A werewolf.
He remembered, now, he's a werewolf. A. A fucking animal.
He began to panic, he would be disowned, he had probably gotten his family disowned, his father hated half breeds, he was so royally fucked, his heart, was so fucking loud, and his face felt hot, and filled with pinpricks, and his palms were sweating, and he couldn't handle anything, everything, this was his world, shattering, crashing, crumbling around him, everything was going dark, oh god was he having a panic attack, this was going to be fucking embarrassing, there was darkness everywhere, oh good god…
"DRACO."
Draco's eyes ripped open at the sharp pain on his forehead.
Professor Snape removed his wand from Draco's face, the tip still red hot. So red so fucking hot and bright.
Everything huurt, his face was burning, it hurt so badly.
Everything was too loud, it smelled it was a stench, it couldn't, and he couldn't even breathe around the horrible scent, the scent of everything, everything was so bright, he was so hot, he was so angry, he just fucking hated everyone, he snarled, lifting his lips into what he hoped was a horrible snarl, like he used to make when he was little.
A terrible snarl left his throat, low in his chest, and he felt his hackles rise, as he sank back onto his haunches, ready to snap. He sprung, and midair, his hind legs were caught, and he was snapped back onto the floor, slamming down onto the cold cement.
He opened his mouth to howl angrily, and paused.
Howl?
Oh shit, right.
Must be a full moon.
He snarled, glaring around the room wildly, when his eyes fell on the very human form of Greyback.
Why the hell did that foul smelling bastard get to fucking stay a human, while Draco was reduced to an over stimulated angry fucking goddamit.
Why wasn't he….
Why did the geezer look so fucking pissed what the hell was his problem.
He tried to lunge again, and the restraints caught him. He turned on the chains that bound him.
WHAT THE FUCKING HELL WHY CAN'T I DO WHATEVER THE HELL I FUCKING WANT TO, GET THIS FUCKING CHAIN OFF OF ME, he roared, snarling and snapping his jaws hard at the metal.
Nothing, but a toothache.
A fucking tooth ache that pissed him off. It hurt, it stung, the metal tasted like rust and filt and pain and blood, and the shadows were overwhelming, and he was out in the open, three sets of beady eyes watching his every move idly why wasn't anyone reacting why wasn't anyone helping fuck.
He was so angry he just needed this OFF, he slammed against the chain again, throwing all his rage into getting loose. To his surprise, the chain exploded off of him, and he found himself hurtling forwards towards Greyback, teeth bared.
Goddamit he hated the man so much, his veins were literally on fire, the urge to tear and rip so good blood all he wanted was to fucking taste blood grind his teeth into and kill-
"Enough."
The Dark Lord raised his wand, and a snap of electricity snapped against Draco's sensitive nose. Ow fuck was the sting so necessary, he didn't even remember what the hell he was jumping for he was just so fucking hungry the hungrier aching and twisting in the puts of his stomach, and again the nose stung it hurt is was bright it made him feel mad and charged and why was everyone HURTING him…
He yelped and turned.
"You will not attack unless commanded. Or your family will suffer the consequences, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco paused, fighting the sudden instinct to try and bite or kill someone. Not my family, not my family, not my family, he chanted to himself, standing still, bristling.
"Well done, Severus. I suppose you may consider your debt near paid… But to fulfill it completely, you need to keep this weapon a secret, until I am ready."
Everyone's focus was pulled from Draco, no one was paying attention.
He couldn't calm down, he just, he was finally able to stare at Greyback, unflinchingly. Conceited bastard, who the hell was he to turn his back on Draco, he would kill the stuck up little shit what the hell he couldn't believe he was being ignored by a fucking ill scented little sniveling half a man.
His teeth bared instinctively and he couldn't help it.
He felt.
He felt alive, and less helpless than ever.
There was no wand in sight.
He'd just done wandless magic. Fucking wandless magic.
And he was stronger than ever.
He did not flinch, when the Dark Lord turned to him. He hated those red eyes they made him feel sick and cowed and hurt and he remembered but couldn't and the man smelled wild off kilter mad insane…
"Draco. You have until the end of august to learn to be an animagus. Severus tells me that it will increase your control over these transformations. It is now, July 5th, and you would do well to learn to control yourself before the beginning of your 6th year."
With that, everyone turned in unison and swept out.
Why the fucking hell would need to be an animagus, he was a fucking wolf right now wasn't he wasn't this fucking good enough why was he never fucking good enough jesus fucking Christ he was just another pet wasn't he the word pet made his lips pull back into a cruel angry smile don't fucking use that word fuck pet.
Draco blinked.
No one had tied him up.
He stretched, he felt less in pain in this form, and he felt, athletic, and angry.
And alive.
He slunk out of the room, staying low to the ground.
Prowling along, he smelled something familiar, warm. For the firs time something smelled not terrifying not upsetting not aggressive and didn't make himw ant to bite and tear. He wanted something maybe to protect maybe to feed whatever was this way his ears pricked forwards, pace quickening.
He slunk along after it, sensing, as it got closer and stronger. He bounded up a set of stone stairs, and turned a sharp left. He heard a familiar rumble, and sped up his paces. He bounded into a small room with no door, skidding on the cool stone floor.
Zabini.
It came out as a low huff of breath. Oh right. Fucking cant fucking speak English, mother fucking wolf vocal chords. Blaise looked tentative, and a bit afraid. He was edging behind one Professor, or ex professor Lupin.
Draco snarled. His friend. Touching some fucking wolf. Low born, dangerous, ex professor with no fucking sense of style, maybe he would look more fucking stylish as a corpse.
He narrowed his eyes, channeling his rage in he same chain shattering fashion he had tried before. Blaise's bedding wobbled feebly at professor Lupin in a vaguely menacing fashion.
Fuck. So much for master of wandless magic and the universe.
Well. Screw magic.
Draco prepared to pounce, instinctively sinking back on his haunches, feeling his muscles bunch up with rage, and eyes narrow, when Professor Lupin held up his hands in surrender.
When the man stepped out from between Draco and his friend, averting his gaze and slumping his shoulders in submission, Draco grudgingly stopped. He wanted to snap still, and kill something but this piece of shit coward ass hole was just bowed out or whatever submissive little bastard, so Draco suppose he could live, he felt placated, but only slightly, fucking idiot.
"Draco. Focus on a very human feeling. Focus on how it feels to hold a wand, or fly a broom, or even something as simple as the ability to speak."
Human. Think human thoughts. His hands. Feeling things with touch, the feeling of a cool sheet of paper, the taste of firewhiskey, running his hands through long thick hair, he felt prickly and funny everywhere, it wasn't working whatever, fuck this shit, he missed a cool shower as much as the next idiot, but fucking Lupins stupid meditation bull shit was not working-
And then the burning pain. He felt as if he was shedding his skin, every nerve ending was on fire. His head was screaming, his bones shattering, his muscles being ripped off of his bones, his face being smashed, and his spine was on fire. He screamed, and his body contorted, eyes rolling to the back of his head, everything was on fire. He couldn't even open his eyes, but realized that not only was he naked, exhausted, and in pain, but he felt his traitorous body drift off into sleep on the soft ground.
Blaise and Lupin's low voices, a constant hum, lulled him into blissful unconsciousness.
Authors note: The writing style of Were!Draco is very different than Human!Draco, and I did my best to make it clear, but the blurring of the two appeals to me as well. But that is why Were!Draco is much more crass, and rude, and feels in a less linear fashion.