"You attacked Snuffles!"

Lucius wasn't sure what Potter was screaming about just outside of their door but he deeply wished the boy would stop. Unfortunately, Potter was determined to get some sort of answer and burst through their door with such ferocity that it slammed into the wall. Lucius was fairly certain it would leave a dent.

"You attacked Snuffles!" the rabid looking child continued, waving around a bit of parchment as if that was supposed to tell Lucius anything.

"What?" he finally mumbled, raising his head up just enough so that he could comfortably prop himself up with his elbows.

"You attacked-"

"Who is Snuffles?" Fenrir cut in before Potter could finish the same sentence for the third time.

"He's my," Potter started and then cut off. He calmed down slightly as he tried to figure out how to finish that sentence. "Dog."

"You have a dog?' Fenrir asked.

"Are you talking about what happened last night?"

"What happened last night?" Fenrir asked. He didn't enjoy being out of the loop. Lucius was enjoying the fact that for once he knew what Potter was talking about without having Granger explain it all first.

"Yes! You attacked Snuffles!"

"Technically, Papa Odie attacked Snuffles," Lucius sneered. "All I did was follow."

"So now you're just an innocent sheep following the immortal?" Potter sneered back.

"Potter," Lucius started not sure how to finish. Draco had never had a pet and therefore, Lucius had never had to have any conversation about being mean to a pet, whether the fault was imagined or not.

"Don't be mean to Snuffles," the boy ended.

He started to turn to go but Fenrir stopped him.

"Wait! How did even know that they attacked Snuffles?"

"We didn't attack the dog!" Lucius defended outright refusing to use the dog's ridiculous name. "It was snarling at the boundary line."

"Don't lie," Potter said. "Snuffles said Papa Odie threw a fire poker at him!" The boy waved around his piece of parchment again.

Fenrir eyed it as if Potter was about to turn it into a weapon. And then his eyes crinkled in confusion as Potter's words caught up to him.

"Wait," he said waving his hands in front of him as if to stop time long enough to let him catch up to what was happening. Lucius knew the feeling well. "Your dog wrote you letter?"

"It's not a real dog," Lucius told him. "It's an animagus."

"Your dog isn't a dog?" Fenrir asked, a rather stupid look coming onto his face. Either he was having a very difficult time following the conversation or his head hadn't cleared of sleep. Possibly both.

"It doesn't matter!" Potter shouted his fist closing around his parchment. "Don't throw things at Snuffles!"

A brief movement in the still open doorway caught Lucius's attention. Granger was leaning against the frame, arms crossed, hair going every which way, and looking far more amused than he thought appropriate.

"So who is Snuffles?" Fenrir asked, ignoring Granger completely.

"None of your business."

Lucius rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, c'mon Potter."

"You don't deserve to know the identity of the SNUFFLES!" the boy shouted, his voice reaching a crescendo on the last word. The force with which it was shouted coupled with the pure, unadulterated anger in his voice made Lucius lean back a little as if to get away. Fenrir looked just as surprised and stared after the boy silently when he turned and marched out of their room, past Granger, and disappeared.

The girl watched them a moment and smiled.

"Breakfast is ready," she said. "You'll want to eat your fill. Papa Odie has chores for us."

"Chores?" Lucius asked. He had never done a chore in his life. What could a man like Papa Odie possibly have for them do that couldn't be done by House Elves or a wave of a wand?

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," Granger replied. She was trying to be respectful, truly she was, but it still came off as condescending. "Chores."

Then she too disappeared.

Lucius looked at Fenrir, a disdainful look on his face.

"I don't know how to do chores," he admitted, hoping that Fenrir would be able to offer up some sort of solution.

"Better learn quickly," the alpha shrugged, reaching down to pull on his boots. Lucius rolled his eyes. Really, was it so much to ask that Fenrir have some sort of sympathy?

00000

Breakfast was a wide expanse of food.

Lucius hadn't known this, but the motel actually had a fully functioning kitchen and dining room. There were around twenty or so tables crammed into the room, each one different but each one in fairly good condition. No single chair was the same. According to Potter, the coffee pot was an industrial sized one Severus had stolen from a Muggle conference room some years ago.

The coffee wasn't the nice, expensive French roast he was used to. In fact, it tasted a bit like bitter water but once he added a little milk he was able to choke enough of it down to feel sufficiently caffeinated.

Eggs, pancakes, bacon, and something Granger had identified as girts were all available. It was laid out buffet style and everybody grabbed as much or little as they wanted. There were at least thirty other people in the room. He didn't know if they had been there the whole time or just gotten in.

"What are grits?" Fenrir asked when they sat down.

"Dried and ground hominy," Severus said. "Add a little butter and salt, they'll taste fine." He passed the werewolf both mentioned items and Fenrir followed the advice.

Lucius eyed the whitish substance Potter had forced him to put on his plate.

"Is this a Muggle food?" he asked, watching Fenrir closely as he scooped some of these grits into his mouth.

"No," Granger laughed, spreading her own grits on a piece of bread. "It's an American food. Papa Odie's main cook comes from Louisiana."

"Really?" Fenrir asked around his mouthful of mush. He seemed to like it. Lucius put salt and butter on his own.

"Yeah," Potter confirmed. "They have a large Muggleborn population there, you know, because of New Orleans."

Lucius knew all about the Magical community of New Orleans. He'd gone there once on a mission from the Dark Lord to procure a rare herb. They enjoyed Potions, Herbology, and horrible wine. They didn't appear to enjoy sleeping or high society. New Orleans witches and wizards were tough. They baited the elements and would dance outside in lightning storms. It seemed to Lucius that the only thing they really wanted was the next big storm.

All in all, they'd been an odd bunch of Magical traditionalists.

He'd been glad to have left and had never been back.

He spooned a bit of the mush into his mouth and promptly regretted it. His face twisted into an expression of disgust. Potter and Granger immediately burst into loud laughter at the sight. Lucius forced himself to swallow and wondered if he had just been the butt of a joke. Based on the smirk Severus was trying to force away, he would have say he was definitely being laughed at after falling for it.

"It's okay Mr. Malfoy," Granger said clearly trying to be nice. He didn't appreciate it.

"Most British people can't stand them," Severus said. "They think it tastes like wallpaper."

"You'll get used to them!" Granger enthused. Potter was still giggling but had mostly moved on to devouring his own plate, grits included.

"Do I have to?" Lucius asked, sounding like a child even to his own ears.

Nobody answered him and he was pleased to hear Fenrir change the subject.

"So, what are we doing today?" he asked.

"Papa Odie wants the two of us to start working on the roof," Potter said. "That's what most of these guys are here for." He gestured to the dining room at large and Lucius was surprised to see the the crowd had grown while he'd been focused on his American mush.

"All of them?" Fenrir asked.

"Well, some of them have other chores," Granger said.

"The harvest festival is coming up," Severus said.

"Harvest?" Lucius asked. Wasn't it a bit early for such a thing?

"Yes," the darker man continued. "We have one before harvest season and one after. Papa Odie owns several farms and this is one of the few times a year we're able to gather everyone from across the country. Sleepers, squibs, muggleborns. They're all coming."

"When is it?" Fenrir asked.

"August first," Potter said and then darted away with his empty plate. He didn't go back to the food line but disappeared into what Lucius assumed was the kitchen.

Lucius tuned them out after that. Fenrir wanted more information about the roof, a subject he had no interest in. He knew nothing about roofs and putting them back together. He'd destroyed a few in his life but that was the extent of his knowledge.

He was once again analyzing the position he found himself in. Whenever something broke in the Manor that required more skill than the House Elf had, they had always called some specialists. Working people, was what his mother had called them. Lucius had never given them much thought; they were the help and he didn't owe them anything but the wages they were due and maybe a polite word or two.

Never had he considered they might be Muggleborns or Half-Bloods. He thought about the people he'd never paid mind to. How many of them would eventually end up here? How many of these people had known the most powerful Magical person on the planet and simply went about their business as if the information wasn't mind boggling?

He marveled at those people. The mere thought of these impending chores was making him lose his appetite. He had honestly never had to do any sort of chore in his life. He'd always had people who took care of those things. But now he was surrounded by people who did these things for a living. Or at least, knew how to take care of themselves. Would they think less of him?

"Are you done Mr. Malfoy?" Granger asked, cutting into his thoughts. He looked to her.

"Yes," he said. "I guess I am."

"Good. You're with me today. We're supposed to help the cook."

He followed her without complaint and she led him through the door and into the motel's kitchen. Everything was big and bulky, but clean. In fact, it was probably the only part of the motel that was up to par. Lucius followed Granger's example and set his plate on a pile that had already begun to accumulate by a series of sinks. There was one circular steel sink with three square sinks following it.

"Marty!" Granger squealed. Lucius had never heard the girl squeal before and he doubted that she did it often. The girl ran and hugged a woman he hadn't seen before. The two embraced and the woman actually lifted her and spun. Once she had been set down, Granger grabbed Lucius's arm and dragged him over.

"Marty, this is Mr. Malfoy," she said. "And this Marty."

"Hello," he said and shook her hand. Marty was a dark haired, thirty something woman that was bit boney. She wore cowboy boots, jeans, and a plaid shirt. If there was ever an American that fit a stereotype, it was Marty. "Call me Lucius."

"Call me Cook," she said. "Everyone does, except Hermione, of course."

"Alright," he replied, feeling awkward. He couldn't tell if it was her or him or the both of them.

"Hermione," Marty said. "Why don't you show him how the sinks work."

"Sure," she said and gestured for him to follow her.

After being showed what went into each sink and where the clean dishes went, Granger left him to it. He hadn't realized just how much effort it took to wash all those dishes. Not only did he have to do the dishes from that morning but he had to wash the dishes from Marty and Hermione making that day's lunch and dinner as well. Six hours later his fingers were pruny despite the gloves they'd given him and all he really wanted to do was go back to his room. Was this what chores were like? He could really do without them.

00000

That night, Fenrir and Lucius choose to stick to their room. People had left for the night and the motel felt as empty as it had the day before. Severus had left with some of the men to a bar. Potter and Granger had disappeared into the woods with Papa Odie.

"What did you do today?" Lucius asked.

The werewolf was laying flat on his back, barely moving, and too exhausted to even fall asleep.

"We had to clear away all the debris," he mumbled. "So much debris."

"Is there a reason nobody used Magic?"

"Apparently, Muggleborns prefer to work with their hands," Fenrir said. "Something about craftsmanship. I think they just like to hurt."

Lucius snorted.

"Says the werewolf," he snarked. "The full moon's tomorrow."

"I know."

"Did Papa Odie tell you where to go?"

Fenrir finally turned his head to look at him. Lucius was used to dealing with Fenrir immediately before the full moon. He was usually snappish, more prone to attack, and the aches would leave him almost incapacitated. Despite popular belief, the transformation didn't get easier with time, it got worse.

The werewolf bite was, in the end, a curse. It didn't matter that Fenrir embraced it as a part of his identity and even his soul. But that didn't erase the fact that Fenrir's bones had been breaking every month for the last forty-odd years. His human form was aging and each transformation was wearing on him.

The alpha's eyes were dark-rimmed and his eyes were already starting to shift to gold.

"Yes, at that post we saw. In the forest."

Lucius nodded. He wasn't sure how Papa Odie was planning on containing Fenrir but he hoped it was effective. Fenrir was, above all else, a predator. If he caught even the slightest whiff of a human he would pounce. It was just in the nature of a werewolf to do so. And it was in Fenrir's nature to surrender himself to it. You couldn't force the man to take the Wolfsbane Potion if his life depended on it.

"Are you worried about it?" Fenrir asked. Lucius couldn't answer him truthfully. He wasn't sure why he suddenly cared about Fenrir's full moon plans. The werewolf had spent plenty of these nights in the woods of Malfoy Manor, something Narcissa had always hated considering they had a child. But Lucius had never minded. It was just Fenrir after all. It wasn't as if he was letting the entire pack run around killing all of the peacocks on the grounds.

"No," the Pureblood finally answered. "I was just curious as to how the others were taking it."

"Fine."

There was a very pregnant pause until, predictably, Fenrir spoke again.

"Have you heard anything about the Order?" he asked. Lucius tried to hold back a snort. It wasn't the Order he was interested in but rather a particular member.

"No. Nothing."

The werewolf nodded and as Lucius watched, his eyelids drooped more and more. He was starting to fall asleep and there was really no other excuse for Lucius to keep him awake other than he didn't want to stare at the ceiling until he himself felt tired enough.

"My bones hurt."

The mumble was the last conscious thing Fenrir did for the night before finally falling asleep, still in his clothes. Lucius shook his head, quietly leaving the room.

00000

That next day was very different.

Mostly because Lucius woke up in the chair he'd fallen asleep in with Papa Odie glaring down at him.

"That's my chair," the man snapped. Lucius blinked and silently got up to move. As he sat, rubbing his eyes, Papa Odie lit one of his strange cigarettes and pushed his sunglasses back up his nose.

"Tonight's the full moon," the man observed.

"Yes," Lucius nodded in agreement not sure what the other man wanted from him.

"The workers won't be here today or tomorrow. A bunch of werewolves always start to gather the morning of. Try not to piss any of them off."

"Yes, sir," Lucius said understanding Potter's earlier compliance with whatever the man said. It was easy to do; Odie had a certain aura about him that commanded everyone's attention if not their respect.

"How's your little werewolf friend doing?"

"I'm not sure," Lucius responded truthfully. It was usually hard to get a reading on Fenrir's condition unless there was some obvious injury. "He said his bones were hurting last night."

"Hmmm, it's his age."

"How much longer do you think he'll be able to handle the transformations?"

Werewolves didn't last to their nineties like humans could. The rough nature of their existences always meant that their bodies gave out sooner rather than later.

"Maybe another few years," Papa Odie told him. "Maybe less."

The thought actually saddened him. Fenrir may have been the thing that ran around the woods at night but he had become at least sort of a good friend. They often worked together. Mostly due to the fact that Lucius was the only human who didn't jump out of his path. There was a certain respect between them.

They had concocted this defection together. Lucius couldn't imagine what it might be like to see this through on his own.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden chorus of howling from the trees beyond the parking lot. From the sounds there were maybe six or seven werewolfs already gathered there. And then came a sound Lucius knew well. It pierced the early morning air and reverberated off the trees. It was the sound of an alpha werewolf; it was Fenrir's howl.

"Let the full moon begin," Papa Odie quipped as the other wolves howled along with his comrade. "You want some coffee?"