Chapter 9: Quest For Reassurance
xxx
Two weeks later, the moon was a sliver in the night sky and Draco was in hell. Not through Dumbledore's meddling – which still stung to think about – but because of the sickness coursing through him.
He told himself it was a sickness, anyway, but he knew, really…
It was the curse. This fucking curse that seemed determined to destroy every tiny detail of his previously perfect life. Because of it, he was losing everything – right down to the loss of all his silver jewellery, for Merlin's sake…
His father wasn't one to be ignored, and had sent him letter after letter, finally ending in the scarlet red howler which had found him in the Great Hall. Lucius's cold, drawling voice had rang out for all to hear as he scorned Draco for being 'disobedient' and informed his son that he was being cut off until he came back to his missing senses. Draco had torn out of the Hall in fury and humiliation, the urge to hurt anything which got in his way surging through him.
At the time, he hadn't paid much attention to his own reaction.
But since then, it was only getting worse. His temper had quickly turned uncontrollable. The slightest mistake would send him into moods that lasted hours, and tiny slights were enough for him to start fights right, left and centre. He'd had more detentions and lost more House points in this last fortnight than the rest of his school career combined. The worst incident had involved Blaise, who'd made some innocent comment he couldn't even recall now, but which had caused him to storm from the Slytherin common room yelling obscenities. He'd never seen the other boy look so thoroughly stunned.
More than that, though. These moods weren't natural, he was sure. Rather than be satisfied with winning victories in the arguments he started, he'd begun to really, really want to… hurt.
It had started with Potter – didn't it always? – when the idiot had made some flippant comment about Draco deserving what had happened. The truth was… he hadn't actually intended to react the way he had. Thinking back, his own behaviour was… well, wrong. When was the last time Draco Malfoy had engaged someone in a physical fight? The blond had long resigned himself to being small in size and not exactly strong, so his own actions in attacking the taller Gryffindor without the use of magic didn't make sense.
And as he'd stood there, with Potter pinned and helpless, it had sent a shiver of enjoyment through him he'd struggled to hide. In that brief moment, the curse hadn't seemed so bad. He was strong, able to put true fear into the infamous green eyes.
But that was before. Before the urge to hurt and attack and… and – fuck – bite had set in.
He was being driven insane. In the middle of doing everyday tasks it would come upon him. One moment he was strolling the hallways alongside Pansy and the next his very mindset was flickering, changing, becoming vicious. His vision would fade until everything was shown in shades of grey, and the sound of the world around him would come rushing in as his hearing turned canine.
It wasn't hard to recognise the traits. The wolf was taking over.
So now he paced his room like a caged animal, forcing himself to remain in his self-imposed exile. He couldn't be around people! Merlin, the thought of what he might do…
He could feel the creature simmering beneath his own consciousness, its fury becoming his own, its feral wildness infecting him. He wondered if this was what Lupin had felt the night he'd lost control, and for the first time came close to understanding how the man had made the mistake.
He needed… Merlin, he didn't want to admit it… He needed help. Draco didn't have the first idea about how he was supposed to control this, but he knew Lupin did.
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.
"D-Draco, calm down –"
"I can't!" the boy snarled in response, his expression practically feral. "I can't, I can't do anything! It's taking over! Every five minutes I want to kill something! I can't stay around my friends in case I bite them, for fuck's sake! And it's all your fault!"
Remus didn't need the Slytherin to tell him there was something wrong. Even Malfoy, rebel that he liked to consider himself, was not normally one to physically attack a teacher in his own home. And he definitely would not be seen in public looking half out of his mind if everything was normal.
Shaking himself sharply, Remus shifted into a kneeling position, reaching up to take hold of the boy's wrists and firmly remove the grip which held onto his shirt. It was time to be the adult, he reminded himself strictly. You caused this, deal with it. Stop avoiding him.
"Draco? Explain to me exactly what's happening –"
The Slytherin struggled for a moment, but the older werewolf didn't release his wrists. Remus half feared it would only result in another attack if he let go.
"It's stronger than me!" the blond finally hissed resentfully. "I thought… I thought it could only change me with the full moon! How is this happening?"
Remus regarded him steadily, trying to hold the panicked gaze with his own and calm it. "You've been ignoring it, haven't you?"
"What?"
He sighed. "Draco… You have to stop thinking of yourself as the same as before –"
"I am the same –!"
"No." Sadly, the older man shook his head. "I'm sorry, Draco. Merlin, I'm so sorry… But you're not. You're not a normal wizard anymore. You're not a pureblood. You're not even… even human –"
"Shut up!" Viciously, the blond twisted away from him, landing on his backside in the effort to distance himself from the other werewolf.
But Remus went on. "It doesn't mean you're less than what you were, just different. My point is that you have to accept that."
"Why should I? Why the fuck –"
"Because this will keep happening!"
They stared at each other in silence, Remus trying to communicate the importance of what he was saying, as well as forcing himself not to look away in his own guilt, while Draco shook his head faintly, denying, denying.
"I… I can help, i-if you'll let me," Remus offered hesitantly, after a while. It occurred to him, finally, that maybe this was why Dumbledore was keeping him around, blast the knowing old man.
Draco sneered at him. "Haven't you done enough?" He raised a knee to his chest defensively, wrapping an arm around the denim-clad limb. A shaking hand went first to his mouth, then ran through his hair, before grasping his jeans tightly, obviously not sure what to do.
"Nevertheless," Remus braced himself to continue. "I understand the curse better than you do. I know how to… work with it. If only so you don't give yourself away, you should listen to –"
"Oh god." The blond looked at him with wide eyes. "I hadn't thought of that. They'll start to notice soon. Oh my god, they'll realise –"
"Ssh, no they won't. Calm down. Listen, we can fix this –"
"We can't fucking fix ANYTHING!" The blonde's outburst took him by surprise, as well as causing Fang to tense up again. Remus blinked, and watched in astonishment as Draco broke.
The wolf's presence left him for the moment, and the white-blue eyes rapidly darkened to grey, becoming liquid with tears. Ducking his head, he hid the moment of vulnerability with his forearm across his eyes, and drew both knees further to himself, as if trying to avoid Remus's shocked scrutiny.
Curled on the ancient threadbare mat which covered Professor Lupin's floor, Draco Malfoy cried for the first time since he'd been bitten.
xxx
By the time he returned to Hogwarts, having stalked away from the hut thoroughly regretting the whole encounter, it was almost ten o' clock and drawing dangerously close to curfew. His anger still lingered barely below the surface, but overshadowing that was the total humiliation he felt at losing his dignity in such a way.
No, scratch that – he'd gone ahead and obliterated his dignity…
There weren't words to describe how mortifying this was. He'd – he'd cried! On the floor! In front of… Lupin! And the git had comforted him!
He wanted to cry again just thinking about it.
So when he first heard the distant voices and light laugh he recognised, he welcomed the target that the Dream Team presented. Quickening his pace, wand instinctively at hand, he rounded the corner in time to watch Potter, Mudblood and Weaselby seeing off what looked like half the bloody school. Draco hesitated as he recognised Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws all traipsing out of whichever room they'd previously been crammed into. What in hell–
Then he recognised it. This was the same place they'd all been last year, when he himself had helped bring their little get-togethers to a premature end.
Plastering a sneer on, he stepped forward as the mass of other students disappeared, leaving only the Golden Trio. He was itching to take out his anger on something, and even the thought of Granger slapping him again wasn't enough of a dissuasion.
"Dumbledore's Army back to its former glory, then, is it?" he called out snidely.
The three whipped round in surprise, pinning him with glares as they recognised the voice. That lasted all of three seconds – before their expressions slowly changed to surprise.
The Weasel let out a snort of amusement. "Shit, Malfoy, what happened to you?"
Draco blinked, not receiving the reaction he'd anticipated.
"Have you been outside?" Granger demanded, her voice high-pitched with indignation and grating severely on Draco's nerves.
The Slytherin cast a glance down at himself then and very nearly winced. He'd actually forgotten his less than pristine appearance – a first, surely, and something that only testified toward his distress. Merlin, of all the times to be slumming in bloody muggle clothing… Wet muggle clothing, at that.
"It's none of your business where I've been, Granger," he spat, glaring at her. "Though I'd love to know what the rebel forces think they're up to, this time of night."
Potter raised his eyebrows incredulously. "Yeah, out of the lot of us, it's us who're the most suspicious here. What the hell were you just doing outside of the castle?"
Draco narrowed his eyes. "I'm not in the habit of repeating myself, but I think I just said it was none of your business!"
The redhead took a step forward, his wand already hanging at his side. "It's our business if you're scheming something, about to let hordes of Death Eaters and monsters into Hogwarts –"
"For gods' sakes Weasley!" the blond exclaimed, throwing up his hands in disgust and exasperation. "What are you – five? Monsters? The only monster out there is your precious moonlit-mutt!" Resolutely, he kept his eyes away from Potter, staring down the other two instead.
The Mudblood jumped to the defence first. "Professor Lupin is not a monster, Malfoy! He's as human as you and I!"
Weasel scowled. "C'mon, Hermione. There's no use trying to explain to this ferrety little git –"
Draco cut him off, his focus narrowing to the girl. He forced a disdainful expression. "Human? He's not even a real wizard. Not a pureblood. He's a creature! What good could he possibly be?"
Granger looked quite ready to smack him one, but he'd been careful to keep some distance between them this time.
"You foul, loathsome little beast!" she shrieked, losing all decorum. "Remus Lupin makes a better human being then you ever will, and ten times the wizard! How dare you –!"
Boy Wonder chose that moment to step in, wrapping an arm around the witch and giving a pointed glance to the redhead. Weasel glowered threateningly at Draco, before taking Harry's place.
"Come on, Hermione, let's go back to the common room."
She jerked away from him before spinning on her heel and storming off down the corridor. A pathetically concerned look on his stupid face, Weasel hurried after her. Leaving Potter.
The green eyes regarded him levelly, not saying anything.
Draco scowled, wanting anger, wanting a target, wanting anything other than this creepy silence.
"What are you staring at?" he spat venomously, when the unblinking look got too much.
Potter folded his arms and tilted his head to the side, looking annoyingly unconcerned. "Malfoy, if you wanted reassurance, there are subtler ways to go about getting it."
Draco almost choked. "Excuse me?"
The taller boy gave a slight shrug. "Well, there are. Hermione'll be upset about this for a week, now. You know, you should really –"
"Reassurance?" the blond repeated, as if that was the only bit of Potter's speech he'd taken in.
"Well, I'm assuming that's why you wanted her to say those things about him. Did you get what you were looking for?"
The Slytherin snarled as he pushed past the other, heading in the same direction the two Gryffindors had just taken. Potter, never to be perturbed, followed.
"Get the fuck away from me, Potter!" he ordered, speeding up.
"What? Am I hitting a little too close to home?" His rival easily kept pace, to Draco's irritation. "That's where you were, isn't it? At Remus's."
"Go away."
"Did he give you The Talk for little werewolves? Are you –"
Draco didn't realise he'd moved until his fist collided with the other's mouth. Potter stumbled slightly, a hand raising to touch the dab of blood which had appeared on his lip. Slowly, he raised his eyes to stare at the Slytherin, something suspiciously like glee in the green depths.
"That was pathetic, Malfoy," he happily informed the blond, wiping away the smudge of red. "Guess you're all human this time, huh?"
Draco blinked, not quite understanding at first. He stared in perplexity at the Gryffindor, before slow realisation crept in.
He was still acting human. Furious, yes, but nothing had changed. No animalistic need to bite, no preternatural strength, no–
Potter was abruptly levelling a wand at him. "You don't think I'm just gonna stand here and let you hit me, do you?"
For the first time in too long, Draco felt a thrill go through him at something so familiar, so steady! This – Merlin, this would never change, this enmity, no matter what either of them became. This was a constant, a reliable factor – and in the middle of chaos, it was exactly what he needed, though he refused to acknowledge that Potter was doing him a favour, starting the fight he'd craved.
It was McGonagall who caught them minutes later, in the midst of their impromptu duel, jinxes and hexes flying haphazardly. She caught them by the collars and physically hauled them along the corridor, taking an obscene amount of House points from both of them.
Didn't matter. As they stood in her office, with the Scotswoman yelling herself hoarse about curfew and rivalry and maturity, he dared a glance in Potter's direction, and Draco thought he caught a glimpse of his own satisfaction reflected in green eyes.