The Secret's In The Telling by Sakuri

chapter 9

Joy, he snarled silently to himself.

xxx

Remus sat alone that evening, as he always did lately, refusing to frequent the castle unless he had to. Hagrid's hut had been transformed while he was staying there, and was now scattered with teetering towers of books and a collection of trinkets he'd acquired in his life. There was a foeglass in the corner, and a wizard's chess set near the fire. He'd been playing a game against himself for two days now. A pan of chicken soup was being kept warm by the embers in the hearth and the smell drifted pleasantly through the rest of the room.

He'd customised the furniture to his own tastes, transfiguring Hagrid's wooden chairs into large, squashy chintzes. The bed in the corner of the room had also been made slightly more comfortable with the addition of his own mattress, quilt and pillows. Fang's blanket on the floor had been done away with, as the dog had taken to sleeping on the foot of the bed with him. The general colour scheme was that of Gryffindor, which was more of a habit than anything else, though the reds he'd used were more faded than the school's bright crimson, and gold had been replaced by beige.

Sighing, he sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. On the table in front of him was next week's lesson plan, scrawled in his own messy hand. The quill had left black ink stains across his fingers.

Fang growled suddenly, lifting his head and staring at the small murky window. Remus glanced at the dog, then perked his own ears, trying to hear whatever had caught Fang's attention. But there was no sound except the repetitive tapping of winter rain on the glass.

Shaking his head, the werewolf stood and made his way over to the fireplace, where his meal of chicken soup awaited him. He was just crouching down to pick it up when something seemed to collide heavily with the wooden door. Fang was up and barking in an instant.

Frowning, he stood slowly and moved to join the dog, who was scratching and scrabbling at the base of the door.

"Move, boy," he ordered, taking its place to grasp the handle and pull.

One distressed looking Draco Malfoy, who had been using the door to prop himself up, promptly tumbled backwards into Remus's shocked hold.

But if the older werewolf had expected the other to stay put like that, he was mistaken. The next think Remus knew, he was being set upon by the growling blonde, all clumsy strength and fury. He was knocked backwards as Draco jumped at him, and then Fang jumped him. The three canines went down in an undignified heap, with Remus on the bottom trying to fend off the Slytherin's uncoordinated attacks, while Draco only tried to reach any part of the stunned Professor that he could, all the while ignoring the massive hound currently trampling him in an effort to defend its master.

It was a sight that Colin Creevey would have willingly died for, had he just been able to get a snapshot first.

Summoning the strength he usually spurned, Remus finally managed to shove the boy off himself and sit up. He also grabbed Fang's collar before the dog could bound after the attacker.

For a blessed moment, there was silence, save for the rain and the harsh breathing of the three. Then Draco regained himself, and sprang yet again, this time landing on his knees in front of the older werewolf and reaching out to grasp his shirt.

"What did you do?" he hissed, eyes wide and wild and wolf-white. "This is killing me! It's… it's winning! I'm going insane!"

Taken aback, Remus almost recoiled from the image the normally pristine Malfoy presented him with. The boy looked shattered, in every sense of the word. His blond hair fell into his eyes in wet tendrils, droplets of rainwater falling from them in fast succession. The rest of him was soaked as well. He hadn't seemed to have bothered with a cloak, and instead wore common muggle-style clothing; blue jeans and a white button-down shirt, unadorned. His hands shook as he clung desperately to Remus – no, his entire frame shook.