To move this story forward, the chapters are going to get shorter starting with this one. Expect anywhere in the area from 700 words (drabble-length) to perhaps 1,500 words. I want to get this story completed, but it's been fighting me. Maybe it's a reluctance born of this being one of the only fics I have wherein Greyback is irredeemably a bad guy, lol. The only way to continue and not force it is to let it happen in bits and pieces.
Chapter Ten
A Moment's Hesitation
Draco was across the room quicker than he'd believed himself capable of moving, putting nearly the entire length of the floor between himself and Greyback. He could feel the way his own lips pulled back in a snarl, the reaction wholly animal even as he extinguished the light and trained his wand in the other werewolf's direction, an instinct born of his life as a very human wizard.
"What?" Strangely, even in the darkness Draco could tell there was a feigned pout on Greyback's face as the vile creature spoke. "Not happy to see me?"
"Never in my life have I been happy about anything to do with you." Draco didn't want to illuminate his wand again—he was afraid to, even knowing that in the dark, in the light, it didn't matter, in a close-quarters combat situation, a feral being like Fenrir Greyback would always have the upper hand. The only advantage Draco might have would be if he could keep the beast talking, so he could be sure his wand was aimed properly.
"Now, I'm really hurt." Greyback's voice was so syrupy it turned Draco's stomach. He'd heard this tone before. This was the one he used when he was falsely coddling the werewolves he'd created during the war. The way he spoke when they did something wrong, lulling them into a false sense of calm before punishing them.
Draco's heart went cold in his chest as he fought not to recoil over that realization. Greyback wasn't simply here to intimidate him. He was gearing up to inflict pain.
"Because you're so sincere in caring what I think of you?" Draco just needed another statement or two to be sure of his aim.
"Because I entrusted you with what's mine!" Greyback snapped, that feigned sweetness vanishing in a blink.
There. Draco thought, anyway. He didn't want to strike until he was sure; if he missed it would only give a sharper edge to Greyback's ferocity when he finally made his move. "Granger's not yours. And if she's pregnant, the baby isn't isn't yours, either! It's mine and you well know that, you twisted bastard."
"What don't you understand? It's yours because I let you come back here. She told you about that little chat we had, didn't she? Because I am many things, Malfoy, but I'm no liar. Everything you have with her is because I decided it so." Greyback's words were barely more than a growl amid the silence of the room, and Draco felt a warped satisfaction at knowing he'd angered the creature. "Make no mistake, that witch is mine as surely as you are. As surely as that pup growing in her belly will be."
"And we're what? Just going to all be some happy little werewolf family?" This was sick. Draco's stomach churned with the very idea of it. Greyback playing father to his child—he didn't want to believe that Greyback could be so sure Hermione was pregnant when they didn't even know for certain, yet, themselves—enraged him, but he struggled to keep his temper under control. For all he knew, Greyback was trying to provoke him into attacking. "You're beyond mad."
Greyback snickered. That husky, mirthful sound lacing the darkness was absolutely unsettling. "Tell me, Malfoy, how can you stop me? Hmm? It's dark, it's late. Most everyone in this castle's asleep. If I wanted to slip up to that room where you've got my witch tucked away, and snatch her away in her sleep, I could. And no one would even know about it 'til morning when they found her gone. Could use her to lure you to me and then I'd have you both and no one would find us. But that's not quite how I envisioned this playing out."
"So you're here with me instead, why? To toy with me? Because you just missed me so much? To . . . ."Draco's already icy heart fell into his stomach as the specificity of Greyback's words hit him. As the realization struck.
Greyback's escape from the Auror's transporting him. The misdirection about where he'd been headed. How he could get into the castle at all with the wards in place to keep him out—Draco's been so beside himself with healthy doses of anger and fear to find the elder wolf in his dorm room with him, he'd not stopped to consider the how sooner. Him knowing about Hermione being 'tucked away.'
Again his stomach churned, a sour taste filling the back of his throat as he wagered in a breathless tone, "You got to one of them, didn't you? One of the Aurors who's supposed to be protecting her is working with you."
"You'd be surprised how persuasive I can be."
Draco couldn't see him, still, but he could easily picture a smug grin curving Greyback's lips.
"You're one of those people who always underestimates me, aren't you, Malfoy?"
Lifting his chin in defiance, Draco exhaled slow, readying himself to strike. "How do you figure? I know you're smart, calculating, vicious, as your plan reveals, sick, and very likely completely insane, but I feel like I've already covered that point quite clearly. Have I left anything out?"
"Yeah, you did leave out one thing . . . . Stupefy."
Draco tried to deflect the spell, but the darkness proved his enemy, after all. He could feel himself drop to the floor, though he tried hard to cling to his wand, to cling to consciousness as he heard Greyback's footfalls cross the floor toward him.
He felt the tip of Greyback's wand touch his cheek. He heard the words as all awareness slipped away, words that reminded him why Fenrir Greyback was such a frightening creature, after all. And for once it had nothing to do with his savagery.
"You, like everyone else, always forget I'm a wizard, too."