Blue-Eyed Angel
Chapter Twenty-five
Draco was glad, as always, that he got to the Ministry so early and missed the morning rush. This day, however, it was not simply because he hated all the hustle and bustle, and the bumping, and the noise, and the occasional stare and mutter. Today was the day he knew Witch Weekly would splash his and Ginny's picture, and whatever story they wrote up to accompany it, all over their publications.
He slipped down through the Muggle street entrance, past the golden gates, down the lifts, down the stairs, down the corridors, all the way to the Hall of Records, without being stopped by one person. It was quarter past five, what people would be there to stop him on a typical day?
Draco focused intently on his work. His inbox was rapidly shrinking at an astonishing rate and Coderdale noticed this as well as Draco's anxious bouncing right leg. Down in that dark pit, they were isolated from the rest of the world. Coderdale had complemented Draco on the hair when he had first come in and told him he looked good, but something about the complement held an air of duplicity. Draco could tell Coderdale did not think he looked that great, but it had nothing to do with Draco's new expensive trim and dye job, but his sweaty unease and nervous habits.
"Draco, are you alright?" Coderdale finally asked after some hours and Draco was nearly halfway through his inbox.
"Fine," Draco muttered without even registering Coderdale's question, reading over his paperwork with fast-moving silver eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses.
"You do not look fine."
"What's wrong with how I look?" Draco snapped indignantly, looking up from his papers are glare with is bespectacled eyes.
"Don't turn this into some insecure tirade. You know what I mean. You look upset. What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Draco mumbled, going back to his reading absorbedly.
"This has to do with Ginny," he said, not even making it a question.
"What do you know about that?" Draco asked, hunching his shoulders then, defensive but not snapping at him that time.
"What happened? You two have a row or something?"
"No," Draco sighed as he dropped his impertinent paperwork, honestly wishing they had, that being something he could handle, deal with, and eventually get over.
"What is it then?" he asked softly.
"You will find out on your own soon enough. No sense in me telling you and spoiling the surprise," he grumbled, ignoring Coderdale's non-work related questions from then on.
It took surprisingly longer than Draco had expected for Réamann to show up.
Draco stumbled backwards and his left shoulder bashed into the edge of a bookshelf before his back hit the wall hard. He slid down to sit on the floor, back still up against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest, left hand over his eye and cheek.
Réamann stood there, breathing heavily from his rage, glaring at Draco with his right hand still balled into a shaking fist.
"Awright," Draco managed with his hand still over half his face. "I'll admit that I deserved that," he acknowledged, pain clear on his face while he held it. He stood slowly, bracing himself against the wall with his free right hand, dizzy from Réamann's little love-tap and unsure if he could stand on his own and didn't want to try.
"How could you do this? Ginny is my girlfriend, you son-of-a-bitch!" Réamann shouted at him, face red with anger, and outrage, and hurt…mostly anger.
"I did not mean for things to-"
"Oh cut the horseshit, Malfoy," Réamann cut him off. "We have been working together for-for weeks, how long have you two been shagging behind my back?" he demanded.
Draco stood there, lips pursed together, not wanting to say.
"How long have you been seeing her?" he demanded. "How long?" he shouted, holding his fist up again then.
"Since the Friday before Christmas, the day after the full moon," Draco confessed, flinching slightly. Twelve days to be exact. He and Ginny hadn't managed for long, had they? Draco had thought he was sneakier than this.
"Oh God," Réamann moaned. putting his hands up over his face and turning once in place. Coderdale was off shelving texts, but not too far away since he wanted to hear this. He had seen Réamann storm in and Draco leap up from his desk. He had seen Draco backing up while holding his hands up as though hoping to ease the other man down. He had heard Draco begging for the opportunity to explain everything, and saw Réamann punch Draco really hard. It did not take a genius to guess that Réamann knew about Draco and Ginny's affair, and he now knew why Draco had been so agitated and antsy all morning. Coderdale cared about Draco, and respected his privacy, but still, he couldn't resist and eavesdrop.
"When that picture was taken, Ginny and I were out trying to decide how to handle this…situation. She has been so worried about hurting you," Draco tried to explain.
"Hurting me, I'm no where near as hurt as I am pissed off!" he shouted, accent think and overpowering.
"That's what I told her," Draco mumbled.
"So you didn't care that you were backstabbing me. She was worried but you-you didn't care?"
"I never said I didn't care. I felt guilty, but-"
"But not enough to stop? Not enough to realize that what you were doing was-was, despicable and wrong and low and-and shameful?"
"I knew it was wrong," Draco snapped bitterly, not liking that Réamann was making it out like Draco hadn't any conscious understanding of what he was doing.
"You, you kept me busy, with all this work, so I-I would be at the Ministry late, so you could have your way with my girlfriend!" he accused with his stutter emerging. "Shit, no wonder Ginny was always defending you, she-she didn't like that I was sometimes harsh to you, because you were shagging her!"
"Ginny defended me because you are an insensitive jackarse," Draco snapped, glaring, infuriated by Réamann's words in regards to Ginny. Draco felt protective of her, and though Réamann was rightfully mad at her about all this, he had no right to talk about her in such a way. Draco wouldn't stand for it. "And I never kept you busy with work just so I could spend time with Ginny. I was right there with you, working on the same shit at late hours. I think you are making this all out to be me trying to hurt you, or make you a fool, when this has nothing to do with you at all!"
"You are such a-a fucking liar!" Réamann shouted, his stutter coming out really bad now. It was usually just a stammer, but Draco knew it had been a stutter when he had been younger. It was a stutter now, again, like Réamann's anger robbed him of whatever control he had managed over it through years of patience and work.
"Réamann, have you talked to Ginny yet? She and I are both to blame for this relationship, but it had nothing to do with me trying to hurt you and everything to do with her not being happy. She has been dissatisfied for a while now and I just happened by at the opportune moment."
"Dis-dissatisfied? Opportune moment? Fuck you, Malfoy, I was a damn good boyfriend and there was no reason she would-would be dissatisfied!"
"You have been just as unhappy, so don't stand here and act all shocked that Ginny was miserable too, or like me telling you as much is some sort of insult to your capabilities. You two both just fell out of love," Draco growled, getting angry now too.
"How do-do you know how I feel, how Ginny feels?" Réamann demanded, outraged.
"Hello? Mind-reader?" he snapped, raising his hands to wiggle his fingertips impatiently.
"Stay out of my mind, Malfoy," Réamann warned.
"I don't have to look into your mind to know that you are unhappy in your relationship with Ginny. You never talk about her, you don't get any sort of dreamy look in your eyes when she is mentioned or when she is around…if anything you have treated her like a burden! You do not celebrate your bond, you mourn it."
"I have no-not; I love her!" Réamann shouted in outrage.
"Then why haven't you asked her to marry you?" Draco demanded.
"Because I-"
"Because you don't want to marry her. Why haven't you broken up with her?"
"I don't wa-want to."
"Because you feel trapped, trapped by her, and the family, and the media writing stories about the two of you, and everyone's expectations of you," Draco answered for him, them both fully aware of Réamann's true feelings on the matter.
"Shut up," Réamann yelled.
"You are as much to blame for all of this as Ginny, or me."
"You are just a ma-manipulative, lying, Death Eater!"
"I am not a Death Eater!" Draco shouted, tired of having to explain that to Réamann.
"Then what do you-you call that?" Réamann yelled, pointing his wand at Draco's arm so that his sleeve shot up as though pushed back by an invisible hand to expose the old Dark Mark.
"Scars left after I did all in my power to save my mother's and my own life," he answered while glaring, bare left arm exposed leaving him feeling violated.
"And you expect me-me to believe that?"
"No, I expect you to stand here, yelling at me with your stupid stutter, calling me a Death Eater because you know it upsets me, because you want to hurt my feelings, because you are furious, furious because you knew that Ginny was cheating on you but outraged to learn with whom," Draco spat. Réamann recoiled as though Draco had just physically hit him, but then held his wand up to point it at Draco's throat.
"I warned you to stay out of my mi-mind!"
"You knew she was cheating?" Draco asked, having seen as much within Réamann's thoughts and feelings and now enquiring further.
Réamann hadn't been sure, but seeing that picture of Draco and Ginny leaning in and kissing each other on the cover of Witch Weekly was more than he could bear or deny. Everyone in his office had been talking about it, but not to him. A coworker finally approached him with a copy; positive he couldn't have known about it and act so calm and oblivious to the fact that his name, along with Ginny and Draco's, was on the lips and tongue of everyone around him.
With clenched fists atop his desk, he had read the article, and the quotes, and saw the pictures of Draco and Ginny together as the walked hand in hand, stole a kiss, laughed. There was a picture of Draco standing alone against a tree in a side article, speculating about his motives, his "Dark and tortured past," and critiquing his looks. Apparently, according to whatever editors down at the magazine, he was a "hottie." There was an excerpt from the article they magazine had run after the Remembrance Ball and the two of them dancing, and Réamann was furious about that. He had given them his blessing to dance and they were shagging behind his back? It was insulting, infuriating, and hurtful.
"I had no idea," Réamann denied.
"Please, you can't lie to me. You knew something was up, and you didn't do anything about it. You are just insulted that it turned out to be me that she was seeing. I'm offended by that."
"Like I give a crap ho-how you are feeling, Malfoy," Réamann fumed.
"Ginny did not want to hurt you with this. We had just agreed to cool things for a while so she could talk to you, end things with you amicably but officially, so as to possibly salvage your relationship as friends, and she and I would start dating each other quietly but properly."
"Why the bloody hell would she want t-to date you?"
"I'm not sure I understand your insinuation. What about me?"
"Sure, have a fling with the bad-boy, ooh-ahh, every girl's fan-fantasy. But what makes you think she would actually date you seriously?" he said, apparently struggling more and more his stutter and thusly getting more and more aggravated with it.
"The fact that she told me as much," Draco growled, not liking what Réamann was saying, or thinking.
"And I'm to believe you?"
"You never have," Draco retorted bitterly.
"You have been pl-playing me from the start, you li-little shit," he accused.
"I was not seeing Ginny when I first met you or started on this case."
"No, I'm talking about th-this," Réamann shouted, throwing at Draco the file he had been holding. Draco flinched as the papers flourished out across his chest and face and fluttered to the floor in a mess. "You, from the start, tri-tried to convince me that Death Eaters had no-nothing to do with this, and I-I let you lead me away from that possibility. The other ni-night you really had me going with the whole Sebastian thing, I have to admit. You ha-have been up upfront about your ability to lie, I just th-thought that was you being honest, not manipulating me-me into thinking you were being honest!"
"Réamann," Draco attempted, not needing to read any of the papers that were now spilled at his feet to know what Réamann was talking about.
"These attacks are all re-recreations of attacks on people back in the wars, attacks by De-death Eaters!"
"You have to understand, there are no Death Eaters left," Draco urged as Réamann fumed.
"You have been manipulating thi-this case from the start, and you have been-been fucking my girlfriend behind my back while taking the potions I have been gi-giving you as you stall this investigation!"
"I have been doing no such thing! If you would but listen you me-"
"You-you expect me to believe you? No wonder Harry doesn't trust you, how can anyone tr-trust you? You lie constantly, you-you sway those around you, you sneak, you steal!" he shouted, pulling out of his pocket and holding out the necklace Draco had given to Ginny for Christmas. Draco could see into his mind and know Réamann had found it while making the bed, thus why he had been so flustered yesterday morning like Ginny had mentioned, Draco having assumed it had to do with Sebastian, not a mysterious piece of jewelry discovered. It had been tucked away under the edge of the mattress, and he had brought it with him today to try and have it appraised, to figure out where it had come from and why Ginny would be hiding it. After seeing the article, however, there was no need. He knew where the serpentine design and emeralds had come from.
"Réamann," Draco then pleaded, sounding nervous, not able to hold onto his anger.
"You are a Death Eater, and a werewolf, and you-you are surely on your way ba-back to Azkaban now," Réamann warned, pointing at Draco again with his wand. Draco's stomach plummeted at the mention of the prison.
"What?"
"You have been tam-tampering with the case, and receiving potions. The Ministry is going to in-investigate this and you are go-going to have your probation revoked. You can spend the last-last seven years of your original term behind bars, plus however ma-many years they slap on for all this," he growled, the necklace dangling and swinging from his hand.
"You…you told them about the potions?" Draco asked, unable to swallow the lump in his throat. He felt like he was about to vomit.
"They will investigate."
"You can't do this, Réamann, I was helping you. This is Sebastian's doing! He is the one that told you about the Death Eater connection!" Draco said while panicking, able to see into Réamann's mind and the conversation Sebastian had had with Réamann earlier that day. He saw Réamann's initial frostiness and how Sebastian had played off Réamann's doubts in Draco to convince him to look at the file. Sebastian had leaned over Réamann's shoulder, explaining the file, pointing to notes, showing him all he needed to, to convince him that Draco was covering up for someone if not responsible for the attacks himself.
"He is manipulating you! Okay, I steered you away from the idea that it was Death Eaters behind it, because they aren't, it's just meant to look that way!" Draco acknowledged while pleading with Réamann to listen to him. Réamann looked bored and unconvinced. "Sebastian is attacking the Muggles and pinning it on me, or rather Death Eaters in general!"
"And w-why would he attack Muggles? He is a top-class Auror."
"I don't know yet," Draco admitted, breaking down and shaking in his fear. He couldn't go back to Azkaban, he couldn't; he wouldn't survive it this time, physically or mentally.
"Draco, you are a good liar, but you are s-seriously shoddy right no-now," Réamann sighed, shaking his head as though disappointed in Draco. "You are pathetic, and, and despicable," he said and Draco flushed and felt a pang of anger resurface at being called pathetic. "I need to have a t-talk with Ginny. I'm sure she won't like hearing all th-this," he sighed while flicking his wand at the floor, Draco flinching. The file flew back together and into his hand before he turned away, walking back towards the door.
"Réamann, please, no! I'm not the one behind this. Don't go to Ginny!" he begged, rushing after Réamann but stopping and holding his hands up as Réamann pointed his wand at him, forcing him to take a step back.
"Ginny and I may be over, maybe not, but re-regardless, I care too much about her to l-let a snake like you manipulate and hurt her. You stay away from her," he warned.
"Réamann, please, don't do this to me," Draco beseeched.
"After all you have d-done to me? I may be a Noble Gr-gryffindor, but I'm not a fool."
Réamann walked away brusquely and Draco was left standing there, shaking.
He could not think properly; too much was going on in his mind. Every separate section of his mind and consciousness was outraged, hurt, scared, and confused. Compartmentalizing himself had been useful when dealing with, or rather suppressing, things, and hiding his emotions, thoughts, and feelings…but when too much happened at once he had too many separate aspects of himself that conflicted with each other and internal chaos ensued. The segments were all milling around, creating a buzzing panic that then settled over him.
"Draco?" Coderdale called, coming around the bookshelves to stare at him. Draco looked at the man, tears in his silver eyes as he shook all over.
He had just been trying to help…
He couldn't go back to Azkaban…
What would happen to his children?
Draco turned, not about to cry while in front of the other man, and rushed off. He grabbed his cloak and scarf as he past his desk and fled out the door to leave the Ministry amidst the stares of those he past.
Nobody was home when Draco got there. Narcissa was still out, and Clarissa was back at primary school. Though he had planned to see Michelangelo off, he had gone into work early instead. He couldn't have risked being seen on Platform 9 3/4 with his children, not with Witch Weekly's story already circulating since early that morning, or maybe late that night before, but Draco felt terrible about not seeing Michelangelo off, and it caused a part of him on the inside to literally ache. He couldn't have sent Michelangelo off like that. The boy needed to survive life at Hogwarts, and being outed as the bastard son of a Death Eater and Werewolf would surly cripple any social climbing Michelangelo was hoping for.
Draco paced in his bedroom, on the verge, unable to catch a breath. He kept running his hands through his hair, then down his arms, then clenching and unclenching his fists before repeating. He knew the onset of a panic attack when he felt one. He had them frequently, though not recently, not since seeing Ginny, but just the thought of Ginny at the moment was enough to make his lungs feel like they were filled with cotton and his extremities shake.
The war had left him so…damaged, sometimes it overwhelmed him. He had been told many times by his Support Wizard that "no one from the war was perfectly adjusted," that those like Harry Potter and anyone that had gotten caught up in all the fighting all had things…issues…to deal with. But seeing Ginny and how adjusted she seemed to be, only put into sharp relief just what a mess he himself was. It didn't help that he was fighting to stick with his sobriety and that he had a bad history of coping with stress and making bad decisions when feeling cornered.
"Bloody hell," he growled, succumbing to a dark little demon in him. He couldn't have himself breaking down like this, not if he had a means to stop it.
Falling to his knees he reached under his mattress, deep, and pulled out a bottle. He had told himself that he didn't need these any more, that his will-power was stronger than this, but he needed to calm down. Pouring a small handful of the last little blue pills into his palm he tossed them back without the need of a drink. He needed to calm down, and Valium would likely do it…unless he just took enough to put himself in a coma. He doubted it; he didn't have that many pills left to do that again.
Draco curled up in the corner of his bedroom, back to the wall, dresser to his left, knees up to his chest, sitting alone and guarded as he rocked slightly. In his arms was his bunny, Leak, so really, he wasn't alone. He needed Leak's comfort as he continued in his struggle to breathe.
He could not go back to Azkaban. He would rather die than go back there.
How could this be happening? He had just been trying to help. He had promised himself though, promised himself before the end of the war, that he would never again do another good deed, that he would never be selfless again. Every time he had tried to do the "right thing", tried to love, tried to help, it had blown up in his face and he had made a mess of everything. He had shunned all helpful urges, all desire for acts of charity. He had promised himself that he would never again be punished for trying to be noble, yet, in the end, he had helped Harry…and look where that had left him: in Azkaban. Had he learned his lesson? Apparently not because he had tried to love again and tried to help Réamann and the Ministry, and now look where he was: about to be thrown back into Azkaban?
He couldn't bare the thought.
The road to hell (aka: Azkaban) truly was paved in good intentions.
Draco wanted to talk to Ginny but she wasn't home and he didn't know Réamann's phone number anyways even if she was. She had called him back last night, crying still. He knew she hadn't gone in to work today, but where was she? Hiding at Grangers? Talking to her parents? Had Réamann found her yet? What would Réamann say to her once he did find her?
Draco didn't want Réamann to yell at her, but more than that, he did not want Réamann telling Ginny he is the one behind the Muggle attacks. He wanted to think Ginny would believe him innocent at least, but some insecure part of him was not so sure. She had doubted him in the past, and though they had grown close, they were still new to each other, and there was still a sense of unease in her when it came to him. He took it as her guilt and nerves about their relationship, but that nagging part of him suggested that it was because she didn't trust him. Why should she trust him? No one did.
He would have sent his owl out, but Frank was out hunting, or gathering mail.
Draco feared what kind of mail he would be getting.
Why couldn't anyone see what he had done for the Ministry?
Why were people so unwilling to believe him, or give him a chance?
No one, not even Potter, knew all he had done, all he had sacrificed!
Everyone had their opinion of him, and they were never good, but no one knew him. It wasn't fair! They had not been there; they had not seen what he had done!
Draco sat there, curled up in his bitterness, and paranoia, dwelling in his own anguished past, succumbing to memories that he preferred to keep hidden away but couldn't fight in this crippled state.
It was four nights before the final battle, but no one was aware of that at the time. It was just another gruesome night of fighting and uncertainty. Draco was walking brusquely, Lupin at his side limping as quickly as he could to keep up with the young werewolf. Draco had only hours before revealed to Harry Potter his desire to no longer be a part of the Order of the Phoenix. He knew now he was in a very dangerous position. Neither side would trust him since the Dark Lords trust in anyone was so fleeting, but he had to help the one side defeat the other so that he would be free of all their tyranny. He would continue to assist the Order while deceiving the Dark Lord, but not for some ambiguous greater good. He was doing it for himself.
He was on his own side now, him against the world, alone…and glad of it. He finally had control over his own destiny, and he liked the taste of power and control he now had that he hadn't before.
Draco was with Lupin now because that morning the three members of the Order that knew he was a werewolf: Potter, McGonagall, and Lupin, had met with him privately and he had agreed to meet with the werewolves and talk to them. The full moon was a night away and no one wanted the werewolves as opposition. The Dark Lord had them still and was thusly feeling confident, but the Order held out a desperate hope that they would come over to them.
Draco had met up with Lupin before Potter had any chance of warning him of what Draco had divulged to him that afternoon. Draco had a feeling Harry's pride wouldn't let him admit to anyone he had been wrong and that Draco really wasn't changed, or at least not in the way that he was on their side, but he feared the whole Order turning on him should Potter tattle. It would seriously complicate his situation and screw up his plans.
He was on his way to meet with a group of werewolves, and Draco would try, like Lupin had for months, to sway them over to the side of the Order. With the full moon fast approaching and a battle for them pending, they were nervous, and hungry, and scared so they were probably willing to listen.
"What have you been saying? What have you been saying to try and persuade them?" Draco asked as they walked. They were in an underground tunnel. It led to a sort of dungeon below the castle the Dark Lord was hauled up. There was no way up into the castle from there, so the passage was useless to the Order. It was just a crypt where the werewolves slept to hide form the bitter cold of the hollow.
"They need to understand that no side is going to offer them what they want, and we are not here to promise them everything, but we-"
"No, see, that's where you have failed. The Dark Lord won them over with empty promises. The only way to persuade them away is to do the same. Do not tell them it will be hard, do not tell them they won't get from you what the Dark Lord has already offered them. The truth will get you no where with these people," he said.
"Draco, we can't lie to them, if they feel we have misled them they will turn on us."
"They are already against us, so what are we risking by trying it my way? I'm sure they are tired of your drab and dismal sermons anyways. The truth has gotten us nowhere in this. Just let me do the talking. They do not want a friend, they don't want logic or reason; they want a leader, someone to guide, protect, and unify them. We have to be that leader, the leader they are looking for in the Dark Lord."
"You think you can do that?"
"Just watch," Draco said confidently.
The werewolves were looking for a leader. What a coincidence, he was looking for followers.
Getting in was easy. The werewolves welcomed their own, and seeing Draco they expected to hear from their master. They did not expect, however, for Draco to start speaking out against their master, their leader as well as Draco's: the Dark Lord. They had come to expect that from Lupin and though they did not chase him off for it, they paid him no mind anymore, no one humoring him with a listen. They gave Draco a listen, however, given the strangeness of the circumstances.
They massed around Lupin and Draco, hearing the boy's words but angered by them.
"You siding with the Norms, boy? Why should we listen to you? You are a traitor to your own kind, and so new! You are barely better than human!" a ragged alpha wolf shouted and the group muttered in angered agreement. "You have not had to live with this for years; you have not been treated like scum, like a freak!"
"Why should you listen to Greyback is my question," Draco posed, cool and collected, like he was not surrounded in a sea of hostile werewolves he was only infuriating further with his words. Lupin was at his side, looking apprehensive.
"He has been there for us."
"Of course he has, who do you think did this to you in the first place? It was not the Norms that infected you, Greyback -because of his own twisted resentment towards humans and normal life, and while under the Dark Lord's orders- did."
"You wouldn't understand; you are not one of us. You may have the condition, but you have not struggled. You are still passing for human, still hiding what you are. You do not embrace yourself; you are not proud what you have become! You are embarrassed by it, by us!"
"Do not DARE stand here and assume that you know me or what I have been through. I may be new, but I have not had it easy. I do what I must to survive. I would be no good to myself or anyone else if it my condition were common knowledge," he growled, showing he was just as beast as they were, even though he tried so hard to pass for human still. If they wanted to see just how much wolf he was, the animal he had become, if it would earn their respect, he would bare all. "You have been lied to, and deceived. The humans, the Norms, they are not our enemies. Greyback is the one that made you sick and then raised many of you away from people, to lead you to think only the worst of them. Yes, there are bad people out there, and the Dark Lord is one of them, but there are good people too."
"You have not lived with this as we have!"
"No, I'm new to all this. I was one of the people that thought werewolves were monsters, I'll admit to that. But you have to understand, I'm sick, like you, because the Dark Lord ordered it. Greyback infected me on purpose. They together use this condition as a form of punishment. How can Greyback see it as a good thing if he treats it like an affliction? How can the Dark Lord respect us if he discards all his disappointing servants into our midst?" Draco argued and for the first time the werewolves only blinked in response to what he said, not sure how to combat that point at the moment. "You do not like what you are; you do not embrace it out of love, you embrace it out of a sense of unity amongst yourselves so that you can carry on feeling victimized and thusly justified in your hate. Truly, you resent what you are, you hate that you are not accepted, and I ask you: why infect others? How does that make anything better? It does nothing but cause more pain and only hearten the impression the Norms have of us, that we are vicious animals out to harm them. You have dug your own hole, you have instilled in them the belief that you are monsters though your own actions!"
"What would you have us do?" the man barked, angry, angry because he could see the logic in Draco's words but wanted to argue with the boy regardless, but unsure how.
"Come with me, join in my stand against the Dark Lord," he said.
"Us. Our stand," Lupin interjected, looking at Draco but Draco ignoring him.
"The Dark Lord has promised us freedom and rights that their Ministry has denied us," the alpha wolf argued.
"The Dark Lord is a liar! He will do nothing for you for your loyalty. I have served him, I have done ALL he has asked, and STILL he punishes me," Draco said firmly, pointing at himself. "He will not follow-through with his promises, he made them only to gain your trust and loyalty. I have been in his presence, he does not intend on honoring his word…he is just using you...us."
"It is better than living underground, hiding," the werewolf said, halfheartedly, looking a little lost, not acknowledging where he was at the very moment: underground and hiding, about to fight (and possibly die) in the Dark Lords war, on the man's orders. He did not seem to want to believe Draco's words but was unsure how to fight them either. He had never been in the presence of the Dark Lord like Draco had been.
"We out number the Death Eaters twenty to one! He would fear us if we but refused him and stood independent."
"Fear us? He would never fear us."
"He will! He does not know just how powerful we could be if we organized. He made you promises he could never keep but knew would appeal to you because he did not want you used against him, not knowing the full extent of what we could be, but intimidated by our numbers."
"We could not take him on," another werewolf argued, her voice carrying fear. Many in that room were not magical. Yes they were werewolves, but many had been Muggle before their affliction. Most that had been skilled in the magical arts discarded their wands once becoming werewolves, as a way for distancing themselves from their former lives and rejecting humanity, so they were under trained and also intimidated by the thought of going up against the most powerful wizard alive.
"You fear him, but why? He is a coward! He treats us like dogs," he said and the crowd grumbled, outraged that they were compared to dogs but not angry at Draco. Draco was winning them over and Lupin was surprised. He leaned over to him and whispered into his ear of the grumbling noise.
"Draco, what are you doing?"
"They are looking for a leader."
"But you haven't mentioned the Order yet," he hissed.
"Is that what I'm supposed to be doing?" He smirked.
"Draco-"
"They need a little motivation," he whispered back.
Draco stepped up onto the table that was at his back so he could address the whole room as well as be clearly seen, Lupin left to stand beside his feet, looking ready to yell up at him if he were one to yell.
"The Dark Lord thinks we're dogs that would follow his every command for the scraps he throws us. Are we dogs?"
"No," the crowd grumbled, not quite riled up yet but definitely agitated as they muttered their disagreements.
"The Dark Lord thinks he owns us, but does he?"
"No," they said, that time with more enthusiasm.
"Draco," Lupin hissed. They had agreed to let Draco do the talking, and win them over, but he was supposed to be convincing them to join the Order. Lupin got the impression that Draco had something else in mind.
"We don't have respect, a leader, or magic on our side, but we ARE a power to be reckoned with…because we SAY so," he said firmly. He then shouted over the whole crowd. "Together we can do what we have to until we break the hold the Dark Lord has over us and his confidence along with it!"
"Draco," Lupin hissed, the werewolves getting more riled, Draco more confident and angry with every declaration. He hadn't even mentioned the Order's promise yet. What was he doing?
"What's it gonna take to stop the Dark Lord's giants? Can we do it?" he shouted.
"Yes! Yeah!" they all cheered and yelled.
"What's it gonna take to crush the Dementors? Are we willing?
"Yes!"
"The Dark Lord will know, and the Ministry too, that we are not going to take their oppression anymore!" he shouted down at the crowd as he stood atop the table. His own wounded sense of injustice was surfacing as he addressed the crowd, giving him courage.
"Draco!" Lupin shouted. He was turning against the Ministry now?
"The world will fear us, not for the beasts we are, but for the power we have!"
"Yeah!"
"I say Carpe Diem! NOTHING can beat us, and no one can make us give our rights away. We have given them up through consent but we will not be misled anymore. We will not lie down and roll over in submission. Once and for all we will stand up and we will stand strong! The history books will write of what we did, and how we made the tables turn," he said. "Our ranks will grow, and we'll show them that we are more than they take us for!"
"Draco, what are you DOING? This is NOT why I brought you here!" Lupin shouted up at him from beside the table, the crowd all looking over at him now. "We are here on behalf of the Order, and the Ministry!"
"If you are not with us, you are against us," Draco said, looking down at Lupin, the crowd instantly backing Draco on that. "The Ministry is corrupt and has shunned and abused us for too long!" he shouted over the crowed, them cheering and encouraging him to keep talking. They liked what they were hearing, and Lupin realized that Draco had been right, they wanted a leader to promise them everything, but Lupin, looking up at Draco, realized too that Draco seemed to believe his words, support and embrace them. He was talking of such grandiose things, surely Draco had gone mad!
"The Order is small, and weak. They are better than the Dark Lord with their ethics and sense of justice, but they would still imprison us. Mark my words: if the Order should win this we will be locked up like animals, hunted down and tagged like beasts, to be persecuted like always!"
"Draco!" Lupin shouted, two werewolves grabbing Lupin's shoulders.
"We are proud," he shouted and they cheered in agreement, "We are defiant!" the noise was great. "We will not be compliant!" he shouted, the crowd egging him on. "The Dark Lord would exterminate us once our usefulness and purpose has ended in his eyes. We can't trust anyone but ourselves, we cannot rely on anyone else."
The crowed jostled and shouted in agreement and outrage. The women dances and the men howled. The werewolves were very tribal in how they carried themselves,
"When the Dark Lord calls us, will we come?"
"No!"
"When the final battle rages, will we be serving the humans?"
"No!"
"We have a hundred to their dozens. Our voices are greater than theirs. Our day has come and our time is now…our fear is GONE! The Dark Lord may own the world but he doesn't own us. He may crack the whip but he won't whip us!"
"Never! Never again!" the werewolves shouted, some more howling, some stomping their feet in their circular dances. Lupin looked up at Draco, the boy smirking and looking very content and pleased with himself and all he had just accomplished. Lupin stared at him and wondered what had happened to make Draco this way? What had he done by bringing Draco with him?
"The world will learn," Draco went on to say, costing on the approval he had built up, his own arrogance boasting him, the werewolves eating up everything he had to say, "and they will see that we had to choose, that we just could not continue on like this. Come with me, the things we do today will affect the future, our future, forever!" he deClaired, and they cheered, but there was a sudden ripple and a gasp that moved through the crowd, starting from the back and moving towards the center where Draco stood on the table.
Greyback stood in the back, obviously having just entered and stopped upon seeing the scene before him. There was, instantly, no more dancing, and the silence was heavy and uncomfortable. Greyback glared up at Draco and though Draco felt his stomach tighten, he stood tall and confident. He had won over the werewolves with his words; he needed to hold onto them now with his actions, with his conduct. If he showed any fear towards to older werewolf they would lose confidence in him and his goals, the goals he had just invited them to join him in.
"Malfoy," Greyback growled, the rustling of clothing and shifting steps all that broke the silence amongst the wolves. Lupin looked panicked.
"Greyback," Draco greeted, speaking smoothly, not getting down from his position on the table, maintaining the arrogant composure his parents had deeply instilled in him from an early age.
"You little bastard," he growled, the crowd parting for him to approach.
Draco did not let his fear of the werewolf be seen. Greyback could smell fear, or so he claimed. Draco was about to see if that was true. He suppressed all he was feeling, all his dread, and stood confident.
"Yes?" he asked smoothly, almost mocking in its casualness. It was like Greyback had been invited for tea and Draco was welcoming him into his parlor.
"You would try and take my followers from me? You would turn your back against the Dark Lord, a man that has given you so much?"
"Given me so much?" Draco laughed, though it was bitter. "What has he done for me other than destroy my life, hurt those I care about, ruin my family's name, and send you after me?"
"Do not say that it isn't a blessing that you are a werewolf, you little shit. You are not worthy of the honor! I should have killed you."
"Your mistake," Draco quipped. "You say it is an honor, but you don't believe it. You wouldn't resent the Norms, the humans, so much if you did."
"I hate them for how they treat us!"
"No, you hate them because you are not one of them, you just resent it that they don't accept you because you are sick."
"This is not a sickness, we are GREATER than them!" he shouted, his face long ago developing a beastie appearance that made it impossible to mistake him for human, his voice perpetually stuck in a rasping growl that made every word he spoke sound something like a bark.
"Oh, I'm not saying we are not greater," he said for the benefit of the wolves he was trying to lure to his side. "But this is a blood based infection, a sickness. You cannot deny that."
"The Dark Lord will have your head for this!"
"Are you going to run to him, like his faithful dog, and tattletale on me?" he mocked.
"Don't you DARE call me a dog, Malfoy!"
"You prefer bitch?"
"Fuck you, you little-"
"You're right," Draco interrupted Greyback's seething words. "That's an insult to all dogs. You are not a dog, you are a mongrel, a mutt. A flea-bitten scoundrel that serves the Dark Lord like any lowly domesticated beast would its master!" he said, building courage as he spoke, his voice firm and forceful by the end.
"You, you…" Greyback said, his fists uncurling to reveal claws. Draco's eyes widened just a touch but otherwise suppressed his reaction. "I WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS!"
Draco drew his wand with a gasp from the wolves aground him and pointed it down at Greyback with a smirk.
"I would like to see you try," he taunted confidently, panicking on the inside.
"You COWARD. Not even willing to fight me beast to beast?" he ridiculed, Draco unaffected by it.
"What would that prove? I'm not claiming to be stronger than you. I'm barely a hundred and twenty pounds of boy and you have been a werewolf for decades. I do not humor the thought that I could best you in a claw on claw throw-down. But," he said, holding himself (if possible) even more proper, "I am better than that. I am not a monster, I am not a beast, I am not an animal. You hate me for that. You hate that I can still pass for human, as one of the Norms, because you can't. I can kill you right now where you stand, and still have that, still have my dignity. You could kill me in a fight and what would you have but more proof of what a freak you are."
"RAH!" Greyback shouted, jumping at Draco in his rage. Draco flicked his wand and flipped Greyback over him in mid-pounce so that Greyback shot over the table to land in a heap on the other side. Draco jumped down smoothly and hurried over to the werewolf as he pushed himself off the stone.
"Your spells cannot affect me, I'm too strong," he panted.
"This is true, that spell would have blown you right across the room rather than just deflected you over me a bit so that you missed, but it is still an advantage over you," he said, pointing his wand down at Greyback, keeping himself out of reach.
"I made you," he seethed.
"Am I to thank you for that?"
"You really think you can lead them? You hate what you are."
"No more than you, but I didn't make them, so therefore they would have no reason to hate me."
"Or fear you. You can't rule people that don't fear you to some extent or another," he said, glaring.
"In good time," he said, raising his wand to curse Greyback. He did not expect there werewolf to be so fast, however.
Greyback shot up from the floor and tackled him around the middle. Draco fell to the ground, seriously outweighed by the man, and cursed at having held his wand right handed. His father had broken him so completely that he still automatically drew right handed, even though he was left dominant. He would have been fast enough with the left to curse the man before hitting the floor. Any spell less than a seriously powerful curse would have been nearly null, but it would have been something.
Greyback grabbed Draco's wrist and pushed his arm up so it was on the floor above his head. Draco bared his teeth in his effort to free himself from Greyback's hold, but Greyback was just so strong. Greyback lifted Draco's arm and slammed his hand onto the ground hard, again, and again, until Draco finally let go of his wand, but not by choice. The slender piece of wood rolling away slightly, Greyback had both of Draco's wrists in his hands as he knelt, straddling him. Draco gathered all his strength and was able to pull his arms up from the floor above his head and then down so they were between him and Greyback, but he could do nothing to break the man's hold and his arms shook from the effort.
"I am stronger than you," Greyback sneered and he loomed over Draco.
"And stupider," Draco said, lifting his left leg to knee Greyback in the groin. The man had him pinned with enough space between their bodies that Draco's knee had made a direct hit. Greyback's grasp on Draco's wrists became bruising tight as he was overcome by the pain. Draco gasped as his wrists started to break.
Greyback was not about to get off him, and Draco did not want both his arms broken, he would be helpless. The werewolves around them would not help. They would follow whomever won this bout, this fight. This was a fight for dominance, and like any animal, Draco had to do it alone.
Lupin stood to the side, the werewolves no longer holding him, a look of panic on his prematurely aged face. He might have thought Draco had gone insane, but he did not want the boy killed!
Greyback collected himself with his head turned and then rounded on Draco, baring pointed, wolf-like teeth at him. Draco's eyes were closed in pain at the moment, but when he opened them and bared his own teeth he surprised Greyback by showing his own set of elongated and pointed canines on both top and bottom.
Greyback was caught off guard for only a brief moment but it was all Draco needed to get the upper hand. He twisted his left wrist as hard as he could and his newly extended claws gouged out a chunk of Greyback's hand and wrist. He cursed and released Draco's one wrist, but held tight to the other. Draco pulled his legs out from between Greyback's and squatted there himself, Greyback still holding Draco's right wrist between them as they crouched, facing each other. Draco pounced at him, knocking him backwards and swiping at his face with his left claws. Greyback swiped at Draco in defense with his free right claws, raking four nasty marks across the left side of Draco's face, from ear to chin, causing his cheek to bleed rivulets down his neck and into his white dress shirt's collar and shoulder.
Draco gouged at Greyback's eyes, ruining the right and spilling a white-ish colored wash down the side of his face that mingled with the shed blood. Greyback screamed and turned his face away, putting his knees up so they were between him and Draco, pushing Draco off of him with just his legs, releasing his wrist so that Draco would stumble backwards so distance.
Greyback was in pain but he would not linger on the floor. He could not let Draco pounce while he was whimpering over his lost eye.
Draco crouched low, arms down between his bent legs like an animal, face bleeding, mouth open in a snarling pant. Greyback was up and they circled for a moment, the werewolves creating a ring for them to fight. The table was one edge, the crowd a circle around that.
Greyback sprung, and so Draco did too. They met in the middle with claws and fists. Greyback was stronger, but Draco turned out to be faster. He ducked under one swipe and came in with an uppercut to Greyback's chin. Greyback stumbled backwards and cursed at Draco's unanticipated strength, but attacked immediately. Draco's neck was sliced on the right side and for a panicked moment he cupped his bloody clawed hand over it, not sure how bad it was.
Greyback's back hunched and his muscles seemed to tighten and bulge.
"You ready to take on a true Greater-wolf?" he asked, slowly shifting before Draco, his face distorted slightly, in a sort of wolfman form. "You surprised me with what you managed so far. A Greater-wolf, I wouldn't have expected it out of a little runt like you, but your power does not compare to mine," he said, his words a little imprecise from his wolf features.
Draco swallowed his fear. He could not shift part way, not like Greyback was doing now, not to that extent. He had produced claws, and some sharp teeth…the most powerful of the Lesser-wolves could do that, or the weakest of the Greater…but Draco was not fighting a Lesser, or a weak Greater. He was taking on a master werewolf. Draco knew, if he got upset, having already sprouted claws, his ears already tapering off into points, his teeth sharp and long making it impossible for him to close his jaws properly, he would just shift completely. He might win the fight, but he would be an animal, a beast, and lose the respect of those watching. If he didn't shift, however, he would lose the fight, and it wouldn't matter what the werewolves thought of him, he would be very, very dead.
Greyback leapt at him and Draco ducked, scurrying across the floor towards where Greyback had just sprung, causing the werewolf to miss him. He spun up from the floor in time to slash him across the back but Greyback was fast and turned on him, slashing Draco across the chest. Draco stumbled backwards and growled, his mind slipping enough that he was not even disgusted by his animalistic reaction.
The werewolves around them were growling, cheering, howling. The energy in the room was enough to make the weaker, lesser-wolves shift. Draco wouldn't shift, probably. He had to collect himself, keep his mind and senses. He was able to fight back whatever beast was in him, trying to break free, but it was hard. He had to rely on the skills he used for Occlumency to clear his mind to sooth himself now, to take control of himself.
Greyback leapt and they grappled.
Greyback was stronger, and Draco knew there would be no chance of him winning as things were right then. He needed the advantage, he needed his wand. Draco gathered his mind and spoke to Lupin.
"Lupin, my wand, I need it," he said, Lupin jumping at the intrusion.
"Draco?"
"Now, or this will be the death if me," he said, allowing Lupin to feel all his panic.
Lupin moved around the outer edge of the circle and put his foot on top of Draco's wand, drawing it towards himself. He then kicked it so that it rolled and bumped across the stone floor towards Draco, who caught it with his left hand. Kneeing Greyback hard in the gut Draco was able to roll away and up onto his feet in one motion. Without thinking, without considering his actions, he pointed his wand and shouted the killing curse with as much conviction as he could muster, which was quite a lot.
"Avada Kedavra!" he shouted, a burst of green light engulfing the man that had been the thing of his nightmares for the last year, a man who had taken his dignity, his humanity, his life away. Ultimately it was the Dark Lord to blame, but Draco had feared Greyback more than anything, even the Dark Lord, since that night he had been attacked and infected.
Seeing the man's face become slack as he fell backwards, open-eyed and limp, somehow released Draco from that fear, while something entirely different, yet just as cold, took its place and overtook him.
He had just killed someone.
He felt like he was going to be sick.
The werewolves were looking at him; he couldn't break down right in front of them. He could not puke, he could not cry…he suppressed what he was feeling and hid behind is confident and arrogant mask. He made it seem to all that were looking on that he had been sure of his victory from the start. He needed them to be convinced of him. He sealed away his feelings. He would deal with what he had done later, if ever.
Weak in the knees despite his resolve to stand strong, he fell, legs folding under him so that he was kneeling there, Greyback dead before him and the werewolves silent. They were shocked, they were surprised, they were scared.
Lupin ran to Draco's side and looked him over, careful not to touch Draco's hurting wounds.
Draco played off his collapse as being hurt, not on the verge of being sick over what he had just done.
He had never killed anyone before.
"You will be alright, Draco, we heal damn fast," Lupin assured softly. "These won't scar, now that you are a wolf yourself," he said.
They scared something terrible when it came to the wounds they got when human and made them werewolves, but anything after that, caused by them self or a fellow werewolf, healed cleanly, and quickly. That ability to heal such wounds was how Lupin and Draco were able to be werewolves in Hogwarts and hurt themselves (separated from humans to bite, they bit and scratched themselves instead) and not have much of a mark to show for it and give them away.
Draco's face was raked with nasty cuts on the left side, but given a day or two and he would have not a mark to show for it. Unfortunately, if he intended on hiding what he was from everyone, he would have to cast a spell or two to try and hide the wounds, no spell yet known capable of healing a werewolf's claw marks, even for those already infected.
Draco looked up at the werewolves around him and stood slowly, supporting himself on Lupin quite a bit at first before standing alone with his right hand clamped over the side of his neck to try and stop the steady bleeding that was soaking his un-tucked white dress shirt.
"Greyback is no longer someone you can look to as a leader. That leaves me, or the Dark Lord, a human, a Norm," he said, looking around at them, his claws still extended, his wounded face dramatically intensifying his words.
No werewolf present that night would fight for the Dark Lord, unfortunately, the Dark Lord had many other wolves still, along with the Giants, and the Dementors.
"I think I got them riled up for you guys," Draco whispered to Lupin as he was led away, too weak and shaking to walk on his own once out of sight from the werewolves.
Draco was pulled from the memory by a loud CRACK and flinched upon hearing footsteps in his hallway. His mother and Clarissa would have come in through the locked front door and it wouldn't have made a cracking noise. Whoever was in his house now was someone who could Apparate, thus the distinctive crack, and Draco had a feeling that it wasn't Ginny showing up unexpectedly by the sound of the heavy stride.
"Malfoy? Where are you? I know you're here. Come-out, come-out," Sebastian teased, laughing and patronizing.
Draco felt the urge to growl, maybe because of the subject of the vivid memory he had just pulled out of, but remained silent and unmoving, stuck between outraged anger and paralyzing fear as he hugged Leak in his arms and pressed them between his knees and chest.
Why was Sebastian here? Was he here to arrest him?
The door burst open and Draco did not even recoil, he just sat there in his corner glaring at Sebastian as he stepped in like he owned the place.
"Ah, there you are," he said with a smile. "I heard you left work early today, ruining my plans of going down to the Hall of Records and pestering you," he smiled.
"Get out of my house, Sebastian," Draco warned, his voice threatening, his body language not so much.
"You call this a house?" Sebastian sneered, looking around Draco's dark and dilapidated room, having already seen the living room and clearly not impressed. Draco's sore and throbbing face flushed with anger. "Nice hair," Sebastian then complemented, not meant to be taken kindly and Draco just narrowed his eyes further despite how painful it was for him to glare. "I read a funny little article about you today," he went on conversationally, ignoring Draco's warning.
Draco's glare managed to intensify.
"Not only were you lying to your partner, but fucking his girlfriend. Goodness, Draco, somehow you managed to surprise me with just how low you could be."
"You told Réamann that I was lying to him this morning. You know I am not, but you are trying to turn this whole investigation around and pin the attacks and murders on me," he accused, though really, he was just stating a fact.
"I showed Réamann that the attacks were all reminiscent of Death Eater attacks and he was able to come to the conclusion -all on his own- that you were lying to him, and you imposed your own look of guilt since you were trying so hard to keep him from exploring the Death Eater angle. It looks like finding out you were shagging his girlfriend was the last straw. Nice shiner."
"Don't stand here and tell me you did not lead him by the hand to that conclusion," Draco fumed, not wanting to talk about Ginny or think about how much the side of his face hurt.
"I would never do such a thing," he said smugly, brushing his hands over the collar of his robes and smoothing them flat against his chest.
"You here to arrest me, or just torment me? Last I checked, having an affair broke no Ministry Decree, and you appear to be alone so I can't imagine this being Ministry business," Draco snapped.
"Oh, I'm just here to torture you a little before Réamann balls-up and goes to the Ministry and turns you in…then I will have to act all professional as I tear your life a new-one," Sebastian assured, looking and sounding so pleased. Draco's discomfort, anguish, and life crisis were enjoyable and amusing to him. "I hear Azkaban has become quite the arse-pounding prison. No doubt you were a bitch," he laughed meanly, Draco flushing in rage and embarrassment.
Draco kept his knees up so Leak would remain hidden. No need for that little secret to be known by the one person that he quite possibly hate more than Potter now.
"You are not going to finger me in it personally? You are waiting on Réamann to act? I would think you would enjoy doing it yourself," Draco said bitterly.
"That is true, and there are so many people I would love to see their reaction to the news that you are now a chief suspect. There is the head of the department, the field Aurors, your probation team, that frilly freak of a cousin of yours…my, my, I wouldn't want to miss Ron Weasley learning of you being brought back in as a serious suspect. Surely he, as an Auror working on this case, would be glad to hear we have a lead, though I'm not sure how he would react to finding out it is you, given your…business…with his dear, sweet, baby-sister," he ragged, turning to leave Draco sitting there with all he just said hanging over him as he laughed with such vicious mirth. "But, alas, I have acted rather unprofessional in the past in this case, and by me going to the heads of this case I would have to admit I had information that I did not claim and report to them. As much as I would love to see your life ripped apart, I don't want to go up in front of the Inquisitorial Council for conduct review," he said, nearly out the door now.
"I still can't quite figure out your angle yet," Draco said, speaking to Sebastian's back. Sebastian twisted slowly to watch Draco stand. Draco shifted Leak behind him and dropped him to the floor so it was hidden from view by his dresser. He would apologize later for the maltreatment.
"What angle? You know how much I enjoy castigating you."
"Surely you can't derive that same kind of joy from attacking Muggles," Draco said, glaring at the man. Sebastian stiffened but remained otherwise unaffected.
"What?"
"Nice of you to leave clues behind for us to possibly find, confident that no one would of course, but it was foolish and arrogant. I am flattered that you bullied me off the case when you did. You felt threatened by me aiding in the investigation, fearing I would discover it," he said.
"I don't know what you are talking about," he denied, sounding bored but his eyes looking a little nervous.
"Now, now," Draco said, tapping the side his own nose and smiling. "You clearly have been taught Occlumency, but you cannot lie to me."
"So you figure me, why should I care? What are you gonna do about it? No one will believe you and why would they? You look guilty in the situation and you have a reprehensible past, not to mention it is widely recognized that you are mental. I am a Ministry golden boy, with no reason to harm Muggles," he said smugly.
"What is your angle?" Draco asked.
"Assuming I am behind this, why should I divulge such a thing to you? Seems silly."
"What do you have to lose? I'm mental and no one would believe me with all the evidence pointing towards my own guilt in these matters."
"I don't trust you."
"I'm curious."
"I'm careful."
"These attacks are just meant to keep the Ministry busy. You have something else up your sleeve, but what is it?"
"You think these attacks are diversions?"
"Obviously, otherwise you wouldn't have tried so damn hard to make sure there was no pattern. The whole Ministry is now fixated on this case, all other maters being pushed aside and all other departments being redirected to offer aid. You wanted this, so that while everyone is looking the other way you would have free reign to do…whatever it is you want to do," he concluded. Sebastian looked at him, a little shocked and unable to hide it.
"Clever," he commended, sighing and smiling, no longer fighting Draco's accusations. "See, this was why I didn't want you on the case," he said, though still sounding oh-so-comfortable.
"What is your angle?" Draco demanded.
"You can figure me in the case all you want because, yes, no one will believe you, but I'm not stupid enough to expose anything to you."
Draco looked into his eyes intently and Sebastian closed himself off, but not fast enough.
"This is about money?" he asked, it now his turn to look and sound surprised.
"You are just speculating."
"No, this is about money," he said firmly. "Not ransom, so what is it?"
"Knowing won't help you, Malfoy; you are still taking the fall for all this."
"Let them try and pin me. I can honestly say I didn't do it, and Veritaserum would prove that," he said stubbornly. He backed up a little as Sebastian drew his wand and pointed it at him.
"Ah, yes, well, there is that little problem," he said, smiling wickedly. "Thanks for the reminder; I could have left without doing half of what I came here for in the first place," he said with a smile. "Veritaserum is a hitch for me in this situation, but what I learned from your original trial is, so long as you are selective and careful about what questions you ask, and with all you are allowed to say is yes, or no, it isn't too difficult to convey the idea of guilt," he smiled
"You son-of-a-bitch," Draco growled.
"Hmm?"
"You have known all along that I was entrapped and wrongfully thrown into Azkaban."
"Yup, well, since looking into your case when your probation came up…so about three years now," he said simply.
"Why did you then try so hard to keep me in prison?" Draco demanded.
"Because I don't like you," he said with a smile.
"That is not the reason."
"Because fighting against your release would earn me favor amongst the Ministry leaders."
"You used me as a steppingstone?"
"Yup, basically."
"And now you are making it so I will take the fall for all this, so you can get your hands on some kind of money?" he asked.
"Yup."
"You must be pretty close to your goal then, if you are starting to figure me as the culprit. You couldn't have any more Muggles attacked while I'm detained," he said and Sebastian's expression soured just a bit, giving Draco the impression that that was not true at all. Draco felt a flicker of hope for himself in the situation then.
"No, I really couldn't. But it's none of your business how my plans are going, but I fear, despite your reputation and my confidence that no one would believe you should you mention any of this, that you know too much," he said, pointing his wand at Draco with a steady hand.
"This won't work. You will try to pin it on me, but there are instances that I was simply incapable of carrying out some of the attacks, and having me thrown away for making it look like I was covering the attacks up won't reveal who was actually responsible and the Ministry will keep searching."
"And it will be a cold-case, but with the attacks mysteriously stopping after you are locked up, people will assume and over time the Ministry will forget."
"I work in the Hall of Records, Sebastian. Trust me, the Ministry never forgets," he said.
"We'll see." Sebastian looked about ready to flick his wand.
"You are devious, and malevolent, and entirely too full of yourself," Draco said suddenly and Sebastian rolled his eyes, looking bored. "I like that, reminds me of me," Draco then added with a smile.
"Excuse me?"
"I could help you," he offered.
"Help me?" Draco just nodded. "Why do I need your help?"
"Because I am damn clever, and you are obviously struggling for it to be taking you this long, nine attacks, to finish whatever it is you are trying to do. You are not ready to have your scapegoat thrown into Azkaban, but the sudden whirlwind my personal life has created has thrown your plans and timeline off."
"As enjoyable as it is to watch your life fall apart, I must admit that it came at a very inopportune time for me. Regardless, however, you still don't know what I'm trying to do, yet you offer to help me? What is your angle?"
"I really don't give a damn about the wee-Muggles you have attacked and killed, and I really don't want to end up in Azkaban. I can help you, in exchange for all this to go away," he said, standing before Sebastian, wand pointed at him still.
"You want me to get rid of my perfect scapegoat last minute? No way, who else would I have to pin this all on?"
"Perfect am I? You can try and pin this all on me as things are now, and it will fail, and you will possibly, as a result, not get what you are seeking, ending up no better off. With my aid you can be sure at least that you will accomplish your task, and we can together find a more secure scapegoat. Surely you, as an Auror, are sufficiently talented to manage I memory charm powerful enough to deceive the Ministry, that is, I'm assuming that's what you are threatening me with now," Draco said, raising his arm and putting his finger tip on Sebastian's wand tip and pushing it down.
"You are fooling with me," Sebastian accused.
"This about money?" he asked again.
"Yes," Sebastian finally answered.
"See, now there is something I understand and almost admire. Not the typical, maniacal, `I want to take over and rule the world' horseshit; just some down-to-earth, straight up, greed. It's refreshing, and honest," he said with a shrug.
"You will help me, because this is all about money?" Sebastian asked, sounding skeptical.
"I have already had a taste of following those who would to rule the world, and serving those who just want to do the `right thing' didn't work out too well for me either. I know money, and I understand it. You want it, hey, I want it…so I can see us working together for a common goal," he said, shrugging and shifting to stand in a comfortable pose, to show he was not threatened by the wand still in Sebastian's hand but no longer pointed at him. His heart was still pounding in his chest, but he kept his mind clear and calm.
"You have no moral hang-ups over this?" he asked, looking Draco up and down.
"Do you?" Draco retorted.
"How can I trust you?"
"You can't really, since no one ever has, but I don't think it's hard to assume I really don't want to go back to prison and you could look around a little and see that I could use a little gold."
"So you would help me in my task, and find me a better scapegoat to pin it on, if I stop implicating you, but you want a cut on top of that?"
"A small payment for all I would be risking."
"You still don't even know what I'm after."
"Gold is gold, but I'm all ears if you would like to fill me in. It would be nice to know what I'm working for, otherwise, just say what you need of me," he said with a humble sweeping bow. He looked up at Sebastian very intently and he looked right back, making the mistake of locking eyes with Draco for a moment but breaking the connection quickly to look at Draco's nose instead.
"Am I to really believe you trust me to not turn you in after you help me, or that I will actually give you a cut?"
"Well, if you turn me in, I will do you the same favor," Draco said with a mean smile with leering silver eyes. "I'm a powerful Occlumens, good luck in finding a Memory Charm powerful enough to overpower my mental barriers," he said, Sebastian paling a little, not able to hold to his initial plan of confounding Draco's mind so he wouldn't remember his little admission of guilt just now, or his memories of their actions should he help, if what Draco said is true. "As for trusting you to pay me," he said, smiling a little wider to reveal his pointed canines, "I trust you will hold up your end of the bargain."
"You threatening me?" Sebastian said while raising his wand.
"Are you?" Draco asked, not showing any sign of fearing the wand.
"You are to stay away from me."
"Do not give me reason to come near you then; hold up your end of the deal," Draco said civilly, like he didn't have a mouth full of beastie fangs.
"What of Réamann, and the Ministry? You have been working with them on this case, trying to solve it, or so you claim. Why turn on them now?"
"I owe the Ministry nothing, and Réamann Rossiter is a bloody addle-pate. I worked on the case because I did not know who or what was attacking Muggles, or why, and because it was what was requested of me. I got potions to ease my pains from Réamann in exchange for my services; otherwise I never would have gotten involved beyond what my job at the Ministry dictates. You have need of me, and gold and avoiding a stint in Azkaban would be more than enough incentive and payment for me," he said.
Sebastian finally smiled, lowering his wand slowly. He was able to see that, as much as he could threaten and blackmail Draco, Draco could do the same right back. They had each other by the balls, and neither was about to let go and have the other rip theirs off. They were at a stand-still, a draw. Draco could help him, could he trust Draco? No. He could help Draco, but could Draco trust him? No. But…they both wanted gold, a "common goal" as Draco put it. They could both get off scot-free and a whole lot richer if they worked together, or they could fight each other, and both go down at the same time, Sebastian knowing he would be in a whole lot more trouble than Draco, Draco knowing that too.
"You really are a cunning Slytherin, willing to use any means to come to your desired ends," he said admirably.
"I hear you were a Hufflepuff, Sebastian," Draco smirked while crossing his arms, Sebastian's wand at his side.
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Author's Note:
Crazy pill-popping Draco. I love him, regardless. Valium is a muscle relaxer, which WILL kill you if you take too many because your heart is a muscle and too much Valuim will stop it. FYI, so don't be like Draco, you will wind up dead, or in a coma, (not fun) like he has done himself in the past and thus why he is not allowed any more pillZ. As you can see in this flashback, Draco embraces his beast a whole lot more than he let-on in the first major portion of this fic.
"You call this a house?" is, of course, a quote from Lucius Malfoy from the second HP movie. I could not resist the harsh irony. Poor Lucius must be spinning in his grave if he could see Draco now.
I credit, nay, blame The Newsies for the flashback. "The World Will Know," "Seize the Day," "Once and For All." I should really stop listening to Disney soundtracks while I write. All good songs, though. I hope you liked the flashback since it was something I wrote before I ever decided on writing this fic. It was one of the first pieces of this story I wrote.
AN2:
I understand there may be some confusion over the werewolf bit of this fic and their ability to heal, so here is a little explanation. (I tried to explain it in the context of the chapter, but I'm dumb and wordy)
Werewolves are complicated. Cut one with a knife and you can heal that wound with the aid of magic. Have another werewolf bite or claw them and that can't be healed by anything but their own bodies. The reason behind that is werewolf bites/scratches cannot be healed by magic, period. If you are a human and just attacked the wounds cannot be healed by magic, you scar really bad as you heal on your own, and you become a werewolf yourself. If you are already a werewolf, the wounds cannot be healed with magic still but they heal on their own with no mark to show for it a little faster than what would be considered a "normal healing rate"
My reasoning behind this is complex and has a lot of different Lycanthrope Lore all mixed in. Have questions? Ask away.
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