A/n: You guys are great. I appreciate the enthusiasm and all of the follows/favorites/reviews so far. Keep it going!
I think he's caught between who he is and who he wants to be.
Draco rubbed his eyes, tiredly, pushing himself out of bed and into a pair of shoes. He grabbed his shower bag, shoved a towel and a change of clothes into it, and padded out of the dungeons and up the grand staircase to the Prefect's bathroom on the seventh floor. He pushed the door open and threw his things on a bench, undressing carefully and hanging his pajamas on a hook.
He stepped into the shower and turned it on, basking in the warming embrace of the water. He ran his fingers through his hair, before shampooing and conditioning it carefully. Draco rubbed his favorite soap up and down his body, his fingers causing tingles and chills to move down his spine. He was feeling slightly aroused, his body reacting, blood pooling in his groin.
Draco began to stroke himself, one hand pressed against the wall. He found himself remembering the scent that had calmed him before, lavender and raindrops, now arousing him even more. He remembered a set of lips on his, fiery, passionate; a pair of hips grinding against him; his fingers running against the inside of a woman's thighs and on her pussy, feeling the wetness begin to seep through the fabric of her panties… He was close to cumming when he heard a small gasp behind him. He turned, startled, only to see the person he least wanted to see at the moment.
Hermione Granger stood shocked, her shower things in her arms, her mouth forming a small o. Draco smirked, putting one hand on his hip and leaning casually against the shower wall.
"What's the matter, Granger? Never seen a real man before?"
She turned around quickly, shuffling to the other side of the bathroom. Draco snorted, turning back to finish himself in the shower. He glanced behind him; she had lain her things down on the bench on the opposite side of the room and was beginning to undress. She turned on the shower, first, though, so he couldn't see anything. There was too much steam.
He began to stroke himself again, hardening again, and he returned to his fantasy. He was kissing a girl roughly, their tongues dancing in and out of each other's mouths, their bodies pressed flush together. In his mind he pulled back, seeing her face. It was Hermione.
"Oh for fucks sake." He growled, knocking a few bottles off of the wall. "OW." He yelped. One of them had been glass, and it shattered when it touched the floor. A few pieces had bounced up and sliced him in various places.
And, hearing his yell, and being the caring worrywart she was, Hermione Granger came hurrying across the bathroom to see if he was okay. And that was how she saw him, with a boner and covered in scratches, bleeding all over everything.
"Oh my god." She whispered as she pulled the shower curtain back. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fucking fabulous, Granger." And then he added "You always have to ruin everything, don't you." But that was more for him.
She heard it, however, and looked confused. "How could I have done anything? I was on the other side of the room?"
"What? Are you going to help me or not?" Draco was very aware of his nakedness. He wasn't uncomfortable at the fact that she was seeing him naked, he had nothing to hide, but she was probably uncomfortable, not that he cared. She had taken just enough time to pull a towel around her before she had come to help him.
She huffed, grabbing her wand. "Don't move."
She muttered a spell to clear all of the glass out of the way, and he stepped out of the shower and sat on the bench. She came up beside him and shifted uncomfortably.
"Are you going to put on a towel?"
"No."
"Well, fine then." She threw a bunched up towel across his waist. "But you probably should, unless you want to walk around the school naked."
"No hospital wing, just help me here."
She huffed again. "Listen, I don't know many healing spells. You'd be better off in the hospital wi-"
"I said no."
He was still bleeding, the drops mixing with the water on the floor and running between the cracks in the tiles and down into the drain. It would have been almost pretty (in a morbid sort of way) if it didn't hurt so much. She kneeled down beside him, he could see down the front of her towel, it was getting kind of loose.
She pointed her wand at his leg, muttered a few words, and then began to carefully pull small bits of glass out.
"Okay," She said as she placed the glass inside a towel to throw away, "It shouldn't bleed anymore and I've disinfected it. Once I'm done, I'll seal these and you should be okay."
"Okay." He replied, watching her work. He tried to ignore the pain in his leg by willing her towel to fall down. He stared at it as if trying to channel a mental telepathy. Not that he wanted to see her naked (or did he?), but he wanted her to be embarrassed, which he briefly thought was an almost shitty thing to think, since she was helping him. He smiled. She stood up suddenly and had a triumphant look on her face.
"Alright, I think you're okay."
"Great." He pushed the towel off of his lap, and just as he did so, hers finally fell down.
He grinned, getting a full view of naked Hermione Granger. He was pleasantly surprised, actually, not that he had been expecting anything, but she was a mudblood. Her skin was slightly tan from the summer months, and she was very curvy. Her breasts were medium sized, and she had very pink nipples. He fought the urge to reach out and stroke them. He glanced down quickly, catching a glimpse of what she had between her legs. She didn't shave. He felt his cock twitch.
She gasped, picking it up off the floor and covering herself again.
"Fuck." She said.
"Well, if you insist."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Disgusting."
"What?" He said, standing up, making sure she got a good look at him again. "I'll have you know that I am very good in bed."
He was teasing her, he knew. Not that he particularly like Hermione Granger, he hated her (or he wanted to, he was very confused at the moment), but she was cheap and easy entertainment. After years of observing her and her friends' habits, he knew what made her tick. He knew how to piss her off and annoy her and he was very good at it.
She began walking to the other side of the room again, pulling off her towel and hanging it on a hook next to her stall. He'd already seen her, anyways, and she didn't have any reason to be ashamed; She didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Plus, teasing him, though wrong, made her feel powerful in ways she hadn't felt before. Hermione briefly wondered if Harry and Ron's bad influences were starting to rub off on her.
Later that day Draco Malfoy stood outside in the cool fall air under a large tree, staring out into the lake. It was a full moon tomorrow, and he now had a plan. After further investigation of the cage in the room of requirement Draco figured out that once he locked himself in the cage for the night of the full moon he could stay safely to transform overnight. The bars would unlock and at dawn, as soon has he had transformed back. He wondered how many people before him had had to use the same room he was going to, how many people had been in the same position he was.
He could barely focus on his classes, anxious to get to dinner so he could tell Blaise about what had happened earlier in the morning.
"So you were just naked?" Blaise grinned, pouring gravy on his mashed potatoes.
"Yeah, and she didn't seem as bothered by it as I hoped, honestly."
"What, did you want her to run screaming?" Pansy interjected, looking up from the school book she was reading.
"Something like that, I mean, it would have been hilarious."
"Probably too distracted by your fabulous and sexy figure, mate."
"That's not gay at all, Blaise."
"It really isn't, I'm just making an observation."
"What, that I'm fucking gorgeous?"
"Precisely." Blaise grinned.
Draco laughed. He felt good when he was with his friends. He felt happy, like when you put a new piece of wood into a fire and it burns brighter. But when he was away from them, he started to fade; his happiness became dull cooling embers. They helped him forget about his problems- they helped him forget about his father and the looming threat of the Dark Lord, the task he had been assigned. They knew the weight he had on his shoulders and they did everything that they could to distract him from it so he could live his life in semi-sanity. But he was losing it day by day. A little less happy, a little more grey.
They finished dinner together and walked down to the common room. He caught sight of Hermione Granger in the crowd, his broad smile dutifully turning into a frown. The night wore on as he and his friends sat around the fire finishing homework. Finally, they all decided to go to bed. Draco and Blaise climbed the stairs to the double room that they shared (sixth and seventh years were allowed special privileges like that) and they both changed and climbed into bed. Draco lay awake for a while, though, dreading what was before him. He remembered when he had been bitten, and the first time he had transformed as well as anything.
It was summer. It was warm, the air was very humid, and there were bugs everywhere. Draco and his family were arranged at the dining room table of Malfoy Manor, other Death Eaters situated around them. His father, Lucius, was covered in cuts and bruises. A beating was his preliminary punishment, but it was nothing to what was about to come.
The Dark Lord sat at the very head of the table, his snake, Nagini, wound around his chair, her head laying lazily on his lap. The room was silent.
"Lucius," The Dark Lord began, "You have failed us."
Lucius looked down, ashamed, but didn't drop his posture. He did not want to appear weak.
"And for that failure you will be punished. You will serve as a lesson to the people in this room that I do not condone incompetence. You will allow yourself to be captured, but you will not turn yourself in, and you will got to Azkaban prison for an extended period of time. If your family has not redeemed themselves within a… certain period of time… well, we will see what happens then."
Lucius and Narcissa looked visibly relieved that that was all he planned to do. They should not have been so foolish, however, because the Dark Lord chuckled malevolently.
"Do you think that is it? A few measly months in Azkaban for putting our entire cause into peril? No, Lucius, your entire punishment is much more severe." He motioned for the werewolf standing guard to his left to come closer. "Fenrir."
Fenrir Greyback moved towards the Malfoys, and stopped directly behind Draco.
"Stand." He said, pulling back roughly on his chair.
Draco, confused, stood like he was told. As much as he did not want to listen, he also did not want to die.
"Please place your wand on the table, Draco." The Dark lord stroked the head of his snake.
Greyback grabbed his arm roughly and steered him out of the room.
"Where are we going?" He asked, hoping not to sound scared.
Greyback didn't answer, but instead led him down the hallway and into the cellar of the manor.
"What are you doing?" Draco was terrified, now.
"Roll up your sleeve."
He did. Greyback pulled out his wand and cast a binding spell on him. Draco couldn't move or speak, all he could do was watch silently as Greyback leaned towards him and bit his forearm roughly.
His sharp teeth sliced easily through his skin, fat, and muscle, and Draco could feel tears welling up inside his eyes. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. He wanted to run, to fight, but his feet were glued to the ground. Greyback stepped back, a horrific and gory grin on his face. He undid the binding spell and left Draco in the cellar.
Draco fell to the ground, curled in a fetal position. This was his punishment; this was his curse for his father's actions. This would change his entire life. He clutched his arm, it was still bleeding, and it had soaked through his robes. Eventually, due to blood loss, Draco passed out.
It was only a few weeks later when he had transformed for the first time. There weren't many physical changes to a werewolf while he was in his human form, but Draco was under so much stress that his hair began to fall out. He started eating less and he lost weight. His skin went from ivory to ash-tinged.
When night began to fall, his mother led him down into the cellar, and locked the iron barred door. She placed wards all around the room to keep him in and to keep other out, and left him, reluctantly, until morning. The pain of having her husband in prison and her son a monster was almost too much for her. The Drak Lord meant for her to break – to shatter into a thousand fragile pieces – but Narcissa would not let that happen. She was too proud, too stubborn. She was wounded, yes. Deeply. But she would not give anyone the satisfaction. She was loyal enough not to get herself killed, and that was it.
The moon rose high in the sky, it's light pouring through one of the small windows inside the cave-like underbelly of the Malfoy Manor. Draco had carefully taken his clothes off, so as not to ruin them, because he still believed that he could retain some of his dignity. He felt tingles shoot all throughout his body, not unpleasant, but not pleasant either, and then he began to feel pain. He could feel his body changing, morphing, into an animalistic shape. His bones cracked, his limbs lengthened, and his face contorted into that of a wolf. He tried to call out but the only sound that he made was a howl, like that of a real wolf.
His transformation lasted only a few minutes, but it was the most painful thing he had ever experienced in his life. It was not like turning into an animagus, which was painless, but like having your entire body pulled apart bit by bit and reconstructed incorrectly without any care in the world whether you are awake or not.
He didn't know himself in this shape. He was no longer Draco Malfoy, he didn't know who that person was. His only instinct was to kill, to hunt, to maim, but even has he skulked along the perimeter of the room he was in he could not find a way out. He went about this for hours, sniffing and scratching at the walls, ramming into them, trying his hardest to leave. But he couldn't.
Eventually he became bored, laying down on the floor. But he could not sleep. So he sat there waiting until the sun came up. And when it did, he was forced into a world of pain all over again. His bones snapped in half once more, crackling and bending and squishing back to their original place. His limbs shortened, the flesh retracting into itself. He whimpered, trying his best not to howl in pain, but he couldn't help it. He screamed.
His mother found him the next morning, in the corner of the dungeon, naked and exhausted, covered in bruises. She pitied him, her pain at seeing her only son vulnerable and hurt welled up inside of her. She handed him his wand and his clothes and left once more, allowing him privacy.
The transformation wasn't as painful as it had been the first time. He had gotten used to it, had built up a tolerance. But he still dreaded what was coming, he still howled and whimpered when his body betrayed him.
Draco Malfoy was meant to be a lesson for his father. He was meant to serve as a possible weapon against his enemies. But what the Dark Lord didn't know, or what he chose to ignore was that this change had strengthened Draco's resolve. It had not changed him, not yet, not completely, but it was beginning to.
a/n: That you all again for reading this story, I hope you all liked it. Sorry this update took so long, I was having a bout of writer's block. It may happen from time to time but I will try to update as frequently as I can because I actually want to write this story and see where it goes. Don't forget to Favorite, Follow, and Review! You can follow me on my tumblr at the URL slytherinsnitches, and go ahead and shoot me a message if there is anything pressing that you feel the need to tell me, or any ideas you may have. I DO take suggestions on plot ideas or things I should add in, anything you might want to see (not a guarantee, but sometimes those thing help me to focus!), so definitely tell me, anon or not. Thank you so much, once again, and have a lovely day!