Author/Artist: Shadowclub/fakeid

Recipient: lj user="malachic"

Title:Radial Acceleration

Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Like all good thing, Harry's life seemed to come to an end. EWE. Takes place about three years after the war.

Warnings (if any): Het?, infidelity, MAJOR SPOILER(highlight to read): *font color=white Werewolves/font*

Total word count: 15,000

Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended./small

bAuthor's/artist's notes (if any): Thank you to the wonderful mods at the fest for giving me some extra time to finish up. I hope you enjoy lj user="malachica", I tried to incorporate the elements you wanted to see! Hopefully some of them showed through (although they didn't show up quite the way I expected). Vaguely influenced by The Killers soundtrack!

bBeta(s): My betas P lj user="princess2000204" who looked over my initial outline, T lj user="tigriswolf" who helped me with commas and pulled through for me when I was in a pinch. As usual many thanks to F Fran for giving invaluable advice and being so kind though I was late. Finally thanks to Schliz for no other reason than she is a Physics major and Indu for holding my hand and doing the final read through.

*

I JUST WANT THEM TO KNOW THAT I CARE. I JUST WANT THEM TO REALIZE WHAT I HAVE TO LIVE THROUGH EVERY MONTH. I JUST WANT THEM TO KNOW WHO THEY ARE. WHEN I LOOK INTO THE MIRROR I WANT TO SEE MYSELF, I DON'T WANT TO SEE THE MONSTER INSIDE.

-From the Diary of Remus Lupin

*

"Nude?"

"Is there any other way?" the current Mr. Zabini asked.

"For lion-baiting in Africa?" Harry repeated, just to make sure he hadn't heard wrong.

"Are you a wussy boy who doesn't hunt sport?" he said. Harry was going to point out that he essentially hunted criminals, but was distracted by the vision of Ginny walking toward them.

"Oh, there you are, Harry! I don't suppose you'll allow me to steal my fiancé away for a bit? There is simply the most marvelous smelling orchid that I need to show him," Ginny said, grabbing his hand and tugging him away.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the man, Harry pulled Ginny behind one of the many roman pillars in the room and kissed her soundly on the lips.

"Thank you," he said.

Ginny laughed.

"He looked like he was about to eat you!" Ginny said, stroking his hair as he leaned on her shoulder.

"Complete idiot. Really, why are we at this dinner again?" Harry asked.

"Because I had a dress and you do support the Anti-Baiting Act."

"I could have just asked Seamus to release a statement for me," Harry said.

"Oh, perk up! Mrs. Zabini is going to reveal the game of the evening and a prize! Plus, I know you like to show support of the Slytherins who didn't do anything wrong in the war," Ginny said, lifting his head up from her shoulder.

"I have practice tomorrow morning, I think I may head back early," Harry said.

"No, Harry! Please? We never get to go out anymore. Just till after the game?"

Harry smiled at her indulgently. It wasn't like his practice was that early.

*

Mrs. Zabini was what Harry privately referred to as an archetypical Slytherin. Her face was constructed of flawless smooth chocolate skin over bone and always wore an expression that reminded Harry of a fish drowning in air.

But not even he could deny that she had good food at the party, at least.

"Harry Potter," she said, extending her hand. Harry hesitated, unsure if he was expected to kiss it or shake it. He was saved from completing his faux pas when she firmly took his hand and pulled him forward until her lips were on his.

"Mwaharrmm!" Harry said, attempting to pull back.

Ginny cleared her throat.

"Excuse me," she said before jerking Harry backwards.

"Oh! Dear me, sorry, you must be Binty!"

"It's Ginny, actually," Ginny corrected. She laced her fingers through Harry's hand and squeezed.

Harry winced as her nails dug into his skin.

"And you two are together?" She asked.

"Yes, we are," Ginny said, defensively.

"How tragic!" She said, throwing her hands up in the air. "Nonetheless, you simply must participate in the games—Henry! Bring out the gong!" She called. Though her voice wasn't loud it seemed to carry throughout the hall.

"Thank you all for coming! As you must all know we have a special guest here tonight! The Savior, Harry Potter!" Harry's cheeks burned as a series of flashes went off from within the crowd. He felt like a caged animal looking out at a crowd.

"In the world where marginal seems to be the norm we finally get to see something extraordinary," she said sweeping her arm out in a wide arc to reveal a silver bowl with three standing hoops.

Ginny rolled her eyes at the dramatic gesture.

A quiet murmur rose up from the crowd like a bubble.

"It's a simple game. All you have to do is throw the ball into the hole," she said stepping back. Her short silver robe twirled in the air and fell around her, now a magnificent ball gown. A few of the women (and a few men as well although Harry suspected that it had more to do with her newly revealed cleavage) in the crowd gasped and applauded. Just then a small faerie stepped out in front of the bowl its wings fluttering.

"Ms. Weasley," she said. "Why don't you go first?"

Ginny smiled devilishly and stepped forward and looked into the bowl. The crowd was noticeably tense as she stepped forward. Harry could see the muscles in her back tense up as she stepped up to the silver line to throw the small ball.

"Whatcha gonna do, bitch?" the faerie called out to her.

Harry couldn't hide the smirk on his face. Ginny was a professional Quidditch player—Mrs. Zabini was in for a treat.

Ginny took aim and feinted. The faerie stood firm in the center as Ginny's ball flew right toward it. It caught it with ease and threw it back.

"Terribly tragic, perhaps all that extra weight is putting you off balance," Mrs. Zabini murmured as Ginny passed her. Ginny walked back to Harry her eyes flashing.

"It was very close," he tried to reassure her.

"Draco, doll, why don't you go next?" she called out.

Draco stepped forward.

Harry felt Ginny's fist clench. She had never quite forgiven the Malfoys for getting off relatively easy for their crimes.

"I pass," Draco said giving her a deep bow. "I want other guests to have a chance before I win the prize."

Arrogance. Malfoy hadn't changed at all.

"Why don't you try?" Mrs. Zabini said, turning to Harry. .

"Yes, I'll do it," he said without thinking.

He walked up to the line and picked up the miniature ball. He aimed it straight for the faerie's head and threw it as hard as he could.

The faerie ducked and the ball went in the hoop. A loud gong sounded through the hall. A deep silence before it tittered into applause.

Harry stood in the center of the grand hall, unsure of what to do.

"Well, well, our winner!" Mrs. Zabini said appearing by his elbow. "Your prize," she said.

Harry's mouth went dry as a Veela wearing little more than a sheer dress, holding a shining silver platter walked toward them. Was she his prize? Harry had a vision of the Veela slowly taking off her dress revealing skin inch by inch—

He caught sight of Ginny's face in the crowd and the thought evaporated.

"This is no ordinary apple," she said handing him the apple. "It will taste like everything you love and everything you want to taste. Mr. Zabini grew one in the desolate soils behind our house! It is quite a feat and we are honored to give it to you."

Harry took the apple. The apple was healthy in appearance, a bright red and shiny. The other guests stared intently at him as though looking for signs of otherworldliness. Out of the hundreds of eyes staring at him he was drawn to a pair of

Harry bit into the apple. Sweet juices flowed into his mouth and seemed to grow in volume to encompass his whole being. He could feel the shining, dead marble under his feet and hear sound of air passing through the tiny sacs in his lungs.

When he swallowed the feeling didn't evaporate. He walked back to Ginny walking like the marble floor had turned into fluffy clouds.

She looked shocked as he grabbed her waist, bent her back and kissed her. It was like liquid fire spreading through his body. He could see himself running though a sunlit forest, a flash of pale skin.

"I love you," he whispered.

*

"How did you like the party last night?" Hermione asked over their usual midmorning tea. Hermione didn't like taking a break from the law offices at the Ministry, but after Ron threatened to sue the office for overworking her, they made her breaks mandatory.

It was a small miracle, Ron had said at the time.

"It was completely useless. I don't know why I go to these things."

"Because you care about people."

"There has to be another way to care… where I am not required to put on a suit and dress robes."

Hermione smiled.

"Well, you can't have it all," she said.

Harry took another sip of his tea. "How has work been going?"

Hermione sighed. "Not so well. We're preparing to defend ourselves against the backlash from the anti-werewolf laws." Hermione's expression turned sour. "After reviewing all the material I think it's a bad idea to pass the law. I mean in 1814 a pack of werewolves were massacred and buried in a wooded area belonging to the Ministry on the outskirts of Brighton and then the Ministry sold the land! I can't think of a way to make that sound any less horrific then it is."

"I didn't know the bill passed," Harry said, frowning.

"It hasn't… yet. I can't stand for it though… I may have to quit if it does go through."

Suddenly, there was a twisting pain in Harry's gut, Harry reflexively clutched his cup. He was in a dream rolling on sleek fur in a pine forest. His back was far too long to be human.

Harry was brought back to reality by a hot liquid spilling onto his trousers.

"Shit," he mumbled, trying to wipe the mess off his clean robes.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the waiter.

Harry looked up at her. "My glass broke."

She hesitated for a moment.

"You looked like you were having a vision. You haven't had any…," she trailed off.

Harry shook his head. He hadn't, not since the Battle of Hogwarts. Nightmares yes, dreams yes, fantasies yes, but true prophetic dreams, no.

Harry wandered back to his office (or rather cubicle) and pulled out a deck of cards from his desk. It was a slow day for crime and the paperwork seemed sullen today. Sullen generally wasn't a word Harry used to describe paperwork except that in the office even the papers seemed to have eyes. Perhaps he could just lean back and take a short nap—

"Harry!" Ron yelled shaking him. Harry fell out of his chair in his haste to stand. The world seemed to tilt back and forth. Harry shook his head trying to regain his bearing.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed. "What the fuck?"

"You weren't waking up!" Ron said.

"Wake up? I was just napping—" Harry glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was five which meant he had fifteen minutes to get ready and head down to the sparring room.

Ron clapped him on the back. "Come on, we better head down for training."

They went down to the training room to complete their daily routine.

The smell of mildew and sweat hit Harry as he stepped into the sparring room causing his eyes to water. The smell wasn't usually this strong. Perhaps the day's workout was exceptionally difficult.

*

Sparring was an excellent way to work through the mundanity and boredom of the day, Harry reasoned as he was thrown onto the mat by Ron. He managed to roll out of the way before Ron had fully pinned him down.

A great way to keep in shape, he thought as Ron's fist landed in his gut. Since Harry knew he was aiming for his face, it seemed like he was doing well. Harry was excellent at dodging punches; he just wasn't as good as landing them where it hurt the most.

"Potter! Land one!" the instructor called out. Harry felt as though he was moving through sticky syrup. All the hairs on his body pricked up before time slowed to the point where he saw an opening in Ron's defense and punched.

Ron fell with the force of the punch.

"I thinbed you broke my noseb," he said after a moment. Thick strand of blood spurted from his nose.

"Shit! I'm sorry," Harry said before a wave of nausea caused him to drop on his knees.

Not the best way to end the match, but since he won it didn't matter. His stomach retracted painfully again causing Harry let out a surprised gasp feeling the bile rise up in his throat.

"Potter, are you okay?" Kingsley asked. Harry nodded and moved away from the mat. Kingley shook his head and helped him up.

"Sit out the next round," Kingsley said.

"But Ron—."

"Will be fine," Kingsley said, guiding Harry toward the benches the lined the wall.

A week later the nausea still hadn't left.

"Harry, how long are you going to go on like this?" Ginny asked him.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Get off your high horse and look around! You aren't getting better. You need to see a Healer," Ginny said.

"I'm fine," Harry said as another wave of nausea passed through him and he clutched the toilet seat tighter until the porcelain of the seat seemed dirty compared to the pure white of his knuckles.

Ginny stroked the top of his head.

"You're not fine," she said.

Harry's stomach turned at her touch for some reason. He subtly moved away from her hand.

"It's just a stomach virus," Harry said.

"You're going to St. Mungo's; I'm making an appointment for you right now. It's been a week since you've been able to keep anything solid down," she said, heading toward the kitchen.

Harry leaned against the tub and closed his eyes.

*

St. Mungo's had changed since the war. It was larger, for one thing, and there was something about it that was just different. The newly colored rooms meant to "lift the spirit" but really made Harry feel as though he were trapped in some sort of nursery school nightmare complete with colored stick figures that moved.

Harry wanted to tell them that orange was supposed to provoke anger in people. He was sure that they would eventually have the walls go back to their pristine white.

The door open and the Healer walked in.

"Hello, Mr. Potter, I'm Healer Frank," the Healer said, pulling a quill out from behind his ears.

"Hello," Harry replied. The Healer still had spots on his face. He couldn't have been older than Harry.

"What seems to be the problem, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, I'm itchy everywhere. It's like there are bugs crawling under my skin all the time and I've been running a fever for about a week now, vomiting and er… diarrhea," Harry said.

Harry lay back on the bed and allowed the Healer to perform the diagnostic spells.

After another excruciating five hours of waiting only interrupted by short intense prodding, the Healer came back in with Luna.

"Mr. Potter, your blood work shows some traces of unidentifiable animal compound. I'm transferring your case over to Mediwitch Lovegood, since she's our resident specialist on were-animals."

"What— Why do you need a were-animal specialist?" Harry finally managed to sputter out.

"Because that's what you are," Luna said with a smile.

"You're lucky we caught you before your first transformation! Imagine how it would be trying to explain that to the Minister," Frank interjected.

"You're lying; I think I would have noticed if I had been bitten by a werewolf."

Luna's eyes threatened to pop out of her head in her exuberance to explain. "I know! You would think, Frank says that you are trying to hide it, but since there are multiple ways to get werewolf saliva in your bloodstream I think there is another explanation."

Frank shook his head in disbelief. "In order to get this high of a concentration, he would have had to swallow at least a gallon of a werewolf's saliva while he was in human form… in under five minutes—" Frank gave him a look. "Erm, have you been having any sort of intimate relations with a werewolf while it was in wolf form—"

"No!" Harry yelled.

"It would take about four drops if it was concentrated!" Luna shot back.

"Who the hell carries around concentrated saliva and why would Mr. Potter be kissing wolves in the first place?"

"Shut up! Both of you! This is hardly leading anywhere. I want to second opinion." Luna looked slightly putout, whereas Frank looked downright ashamed. "And let's not mention this to anyone…" Harry finished.

"I'll just go get Healer Briggs then…and I am bound by oath to not mention any confidential information," Frank said as he left the room, his chest puffing out with pride. Harry was reminded of Percy; all he needed was the red hair and Prefect badge. Luna pulled out her wand and gestured for him to lie down.

"I'm just going to run a few more tests," she said.

*

Harry dragged himself out the front door to St. Mungo's. The tests they had run left him feeling as though his blood were in his fingertips and his toes, but nowhere else in his body. The nightmarish feeling was only deepened when he realized that all werewolves were required to register with the Ministry. Somehow he didn't think that it would stay a secret for long if that was the case.

He managed to Apparate back to the flat and collapsed on the couch, not even having enough energy to call out for Ginny. The heavy clink of the three potion bottles in his pocket was the last sound he heard before falling asleep.

He awoke to a bright light and a warm body. Ginny lay on his chest; Harry smiled as he softly stroked her hair. He could do this; there had to be cure. Besides, it wasn't like he was a ireal/i werewolf. He wasn't attacked by one, after all. There were no scars to incriminate him.

"Wake up," he said, kissing the top of her head; she stirred but didn't rouse. Harry tried to slip out from under her. It was a good thing it was his day off from field duty. He needed to finish up some paperwork for tomorrow, but he could do it from home.

"You're awake! What did the Healers say?" Ginny asked, stretching lazily.

Harry's stomach clenched and he reached down to discreetly check if all the potions were in his pocket.i

"Well, there is a ninety-nine percent chance that I'm a werewolf," he would say.

Ginny would be silent for a moment. She was spirited, but she loved him so she would have to think.

"Harry, we'll do this together," she would finally say reaching out to hug his overheated skin./i

"Harry?" Ginny said.

Harry snapped back into reality. Somehow he didn't think the conversation would go that smoothly.

"Nothing," Harry said, the lie left his mouth before he even had time to react. "I mean—"

Ginny sat up on the couch, her shirt scrunched up in one side revealing an expanse of unblemished skin. Harry swallowed distractedly. He just wanted to bite down on her creamy flesh and taste—

"What did they say?" she asked once again with a yawn. Her face scrunched up, but she was still beautiful.

"They said it was a stomach thing, just like I said. I'm better now," he said. She smiled.

Harry cringed inwardly. Lying was hardly the right thing to do, but this would pass and he didn't want Ginny to worry. She already fretted every time he went out on an assignment or for more intensive training practices.

If this was what he had to do to protect her, this is what he was going to do.

*

Harry sat in the waiting room. All around him there was noise and business, but there was a queasy feeling in his stomach that made everything seem slow and sticky.

Perhaps it was a mistake. They still hadn't confirmed the results, after all.

The thought rang hollowly in his head. Somehow Harry had a feeling that it was true. That somewhere, in some demented way, this was who and what he now was.

Harry just wanted to be the person he was a week ago.

"Mr. Potter," the nurse called from her place at the front desk. He was led back to the familiar room where Luna and Frank met with him immediately.

"Let's cut the chase: the test results came back and confirmed our initial diagnosis," Frank said.

"Oh," Harry said. At least they didn't draw it out.

"We're not going to report you," Frank said. "Luna says you've helped her out in the past and with some of the legislation on the table we try to avoid registering people if they have people to help them during the moon."

Harry nodded stiffly. Sleeping on the couch with Ginny on top of him had been nice, but had left the worst crick in his neck. It felt as though someone had strung a heavy rope under his skin and was pulling on it.

"How am I going to get Wolfsbane? Don't I have to be registered?" Harry asked.

Frank nodded. "Luckily, we know potion maker who is good enough to do it. He won't get certified by the Ministry because—" here, Frank snorted "—he claims that he makes more money doing it on the side," Frank finished.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Thank you," he said to Luna and Frank. Luna gave him a dreamy smile and Frank blushed.

"We exist to serve the people not the system, Mr. Potter," Frank said.

"Call me Harry."

"Harry, do you think you can do me one small favor?" Frank asked.

"Sure."

"Can I get your autograph for my nephew—his birthday is coming up!" Frank said in one big rush. Harry smiled and reached for the quill. It was the least he could do at this point.

Luna handed him a bottle of potion.

"The full moon is in a ten days so you're going to feel some side effects such as sensitivity to touch and elevated body temperature. This should help relieve it, or at the very least lessen it."

"Is that all?" Harry asked.

"For now," she said.

Harry glanced up at the ceiling as though it would have the answer. Harry sometimes wondered if there was ever a right answer for anything. It seemed as though the answer you wanted sometimes wasn't the answer that was best suited for everyone.

*

Other than having to send a few discreet owls to Luna so that they could set up a place for him to itransform/i life was normal with the potion. The very word left a bad taste on Harry's tongue. Not for the first time Harry felt the bitterness cloud his mind. After all that he had been through, the one thing he had retained was his identity. After the war he wasn't just Voldemort's little plaything. He was just Harry. And now he was something else entirely.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice rang through the small flat. "What is this for?" she asked, holding up the bottle of potion.

"Oh, it's just some left over stuff from when I had the flu," Harry lied. It was uncanny, her ability to always look in the wrong place at the right time.

"Oh," she called back, walking toward their bathroom.

A prophetic feeling settled at the bottom of his stomach. Harry walked to the bathroom just in time to see her dumping the potion down the sink.

"What are you doing?" Harry yelled, as though it would somehow bring the liquid back. It swirled as it went down the sink, staining it a black-blue. Ginny turned on the faucet.

"I thought you were better and didn't need it. Potions tend to do strange things when left around for long periods of time," Ginny said. That was his key out. Without it… well he knew it would be bad. Could he ask Luna for a refill already? He didn't even want to think of how much it would cost or how much trouble Luna would get into for essentially stealing potions for him.

Best to wait it out.

"What do you want for dinner tonight?" Ginny asked, pushing past him and stepping into the hall. The late afternoon light swarmed around her, glowing red. It was amazing the way the light played on her hair no matter what the time of day.

Red for blood.

Harry wondered if he attracted violence or violence attracted him

"Anything you want," Harry said, forcing a smile on his face.

"Are you okay? Ginny asked. Harry wanted to hit something.

"Why were you going through my stuff?" he asked.

"I thought you said it wasn't important," Ginny said.

"It wasn't, but I don't want you going through my bag in the future. I'm an Auror; I could have had confidential files in my bag," Harry said, running his hand through his hair. Ginny was going pink. Not a good sign.

"I was just helping you out. Merlin knows you haven't washed your workout clothes in forever."

"I'd appreciate you just asking in the future," Harry said.

Ginny threw her arms up in the air. "We're a couple; we are supposed to help each other out. Not that you do anything."

"What are you talking about? I don't just sit around and order you to make me pot pie. If there is someone who is unavailable, it's you! All you do is stupid stupid Quidditch! Did you ever consider that there is a better calling? Something not so selfish?" he yelled back.

"I'm always here for you and yet you always insist on doing things yourself. We're not on equal terms."

"It's shocking, I know! But as an Auror—" Harry yelled.

"You're not an Auror yet! Don't pretend like you are! And you're just as selfish as I am, don't lie! You would be nothing without your stupid hero complex but it's really just a mask for extreme stupidity and dumb luck! And one day it will fail you!" Ginny yelled.

Stupid. Stupid. Shit. Harry thought examining the empty vial.

Surely it couldn't be that bad.

*

The first signs were innocuous. They weren't even signs; they were vague indications; irrelevant numbers adding up to one sum: werewolf.

It started with a dull itch in his left calf. Then it progressed to an itch and what felt like a fever, but was really just his regular temperature. Nowadays after the workout, Harry felt like he was standing in a furnace at all hours of the day. Finally, it progressed to sensitivity and… arousal. Harry was hard all the time now. He was sure his turn around time was less than a minute at this point. There was only so much one could wank without it getting to be… commonplace.

Christ, he was so hard that he had woken up that morning unconsciously humping the mattress (Ginny had taken to leaving before he woke up). Harry leaned his head against the wall of bathroom stall where he sat on the toilet wanking for the second time that morning. Harry angrily pulled on his cock.

Harry could remember the first time he wanked vividly. It had been after a Quidditch match and Malfoy had made some condescending remark which had sent a spurt of adolescent anger coupled adrenaline through Harry's veins.

He remembered the shock of emotion when his cock started to rise and running ahead of Ron so that he could get to the bathroom. He remembered the heat of it all, his callused hands touching the unblemished skin of his cock—

The door swung open, Harry stopped and held his breath as someone entered.

"Potter's been really good lately. I mean he's always been good, but to drop that much in reflex time… you don't think that he might be taking performance enhancement potion?" Rick's voice rang through the restroom.

A snort from his friend. "Potter always has a way of getting around the rules, but I don't know if he would risk all that."

Seamus, it had to be.

"Guess we'll find out soon enough. There's a random drug test tomorrow," Rick said. The sound of zipping and running water.

"How'd you find out?" Seamus asked.

Rick must have made some sort of gesture because Seamus started laughing.

The door swung open again the sounds drifted away from Harry. He glanced down and realized his erection had wilted. He thanked whatever god was watching over him. Perhaps Seamus and Rick were his anti-erection potion. He should invite them out for drinks tomorrow. He pulled up his trousers and stepped out of the stall. He pulled his engagement ring out of his pocket and put it back on his hand after washing them.

He had to talk to Ginny soon.

Harry went back to his cubicle only to find Ron and Kingsley waiting for him.

"Potter, I want you and Weasley to go out on the Werewolf case. There have been several sightings of werewolves in this area. There aren't supposed to be any living in that area because it's within a five mile radius of a primary school," Kingsley said.

Harry nodded stiffly. He was starting to believe that his fate was nothing more than a series of unfortunate events for him. The minute he decided to try and patch things up with Ginny they decided to give him an assignment!

"Is that all sir?" he asked.

"Yes."

Ron and Harry exchanged excited glances as they walked outside. Though they were hardly new to the fighting business there was nothing like being able to get out off the office and actually do something to help the people.

"Are we there?" Ron asked after the ninth time they had Apparated. It was harder to pinpoint Apparition points when you weren't familiar with the location or there wasn't a signal to call to.

"I swear we've been here before," Harry said, sitting on a tree stump. It was chilly under the shade of the trees.

"No, that clearing had a darker green moss," Ron said, walking around.

"Are you sure this is where Kingsley said they were? I haven't even seen a fly let alone a house. Where do these children live?" Ron asked. He looked a bit unnerved as though he expected spiders to crawl out from under the moss.

Harry stared at the moss and leave covered ground. It seemed to expand and stare as the seconds ticked by.

Ron kicked at a stray pebble missing it the first two times.

"How much you want to bet this is some sort of test on nonapproachable apparition?" Ron said.

"No, Ron. I think this is real," Harry said. He was feeling distinctly lightheaded, but at the same time his vision was clearing. He smelled it before he saw it.

"Ron!" He shouted turning around just in time to watch as a man grabbed Ron from behind and dragged him back. Ron struggled for a minute before the man starting choking him. Harry ran from the other side of the clearing but tripped over a branch. His wand flew out of his hand and into the shrubbery around the clearing. Ron crumpled before Harry was even off the ground. The man grabbed Ron and ran.

Harry ran after him, but the man was carrying Ron over his shoulder as though he were a bag and moved through the rough terrain like silk sheets over skin.

Stupid, he cursed at himself. Now they were both going to die. Then he saw it. It was a glimmer of a dim lamp. Harry ran toward the small cottage and threw the front door open.

Emptiness. There were a few pieces of mismatched and ripped furniture, but no Ron.

Harry realized his mistake too late. He tried to step back and bumped into a sold flesh wall.

"You don't smell like food," he said pulling grabbing Harry's wand. Harry dodged the man's grasp.

"You're not like them are you, Pup?" the man said, pinning him against the wall. Harry was angry. He was angry that this man was stronger than him. That this man was going to hurt him. Harry tried to calm himself and focus on summoning his wand, but his heart didn't want to stop beating. It was going so fast that Harry was afraid it would break his chest and walk away.

"Looks like little Pup is having some problems," he said, reaching down to cup Harry. Harry gasped and realized he was hard. Shit, this was not going to be good.

Harry managed to pull away.

"iStupefy!/i!" he yelled, gesturing wildly with his wand. His body felt weak. He wanted nothing more that to curl up next to this man and –

The spell missed, but the man collapsed revealing Ron standing behind him.

"Let's take him back. There is no way in hell I am going after the other two without some sort of backup," he said. Other than the bruises on his throat he looked normal.

Harry smiled.

*

Kingsley had let them out early, apparently impressed that they had taken out a werewolf before five in the evening without too many injuries. Harry decided it would best for him to talk to Ginny.

The Quidditch field where Ginny had her practice was located in a basement of a Quidditch training gym. It seemed strange to Harry to not practice outside, but it was the off season after all.

He stood on the vast field watching Ginny fly in loops above him. Her posture was good and she flew with the natural grace of someone who was born with the ability.

She landed sweaty and shiny in front of him.

"Come out to dinner with me," Harry said.

"Why? I'm not sure I have the authority to go out with you, Potter," she said.

Harry smiled. "When have you ever cared about the rules?"

*

Dinner was going well… except for the random sharp pains in his stomach. He had eaten a steak as rare as he would dare order and with chocolate for dessert.

"…I just wanted to know…" Ginny was saying something but his hearing was fading. Harry shook his head trying to clear it out.

"…that Wood is working…." he managed to catch the phrase before it faded into oblivion again. It was like listening to a broken record player where he could only hear the phrases on one section of the disk.

Harry clenched the table. He needed that stupid potion. It felt as though ice was running through his veins. It seemed to freeze on the inside of his lungs. He couldn't breathe. He grabbed onto Ginny's arm trying to speak, but there isn't any air.

i"You need to breathe Mr. Potter," the Healer says. He doesn't remember leaving the restaurant. He remembers Ginny gasping out in pain, feeling the bruises form under his tight grip. Something inside him smiles.

He manages to gasp out one breath; he can feel his defense lower at the momentary lapse.

He sees Ginny's worried face at the end of the bed.

She'll know and it'll all be over.

He forces himself to look into her eyes so that he won't be tempted to let go. Her face is blurring a myriad of blue, red, and white. He feels something throw itself at his defenses. The one tiny, speck-like cracks are growing exponentially until he feels the tears in his mind. He wonders if he's screaming. It's tearing apart his mind.

Deconstruction, destruction, love, nails—

Harry is falling out of his own body.

Three feet down just another one to go—

"Get Malfoy!" a voice calls out.

A cool hand on his forehead. Calm radiates forth. They were somehow reconstructing the walls in his mind. The Wolf was soothed by the wallmaker and the walls reconstructed. /i

Harry woke up to the sight of the soaring half moon. Ginny was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and shifted in the bed.

"You're awake," Luna said ,as she walked in.

"Is Ginny alright?" Harry asked. His throat felt raw.

"I believe she was here. We had a lovely chat about the weather in Mozambique before I sent her home. Ron and Hermione were here, but I think they went to go shag somewhere," Luna said.

Harry tried to laugh but it only led to a coughing fit that lasted several minutes.

"Harry!" Hermione called out, running into the room. She was a blur of browns and honey as she launched herself on top of him.

Ron appeared behind her.

"Give him some space, love," he said gently laying a hand on her shoulder.

"We were so worried!" she said. Harry's stomach fell before he realized that they had no idea what the underlying problem was.

They finished talking after a few minutes and left. Ginny apparently had a mandatory practice the next morning and had gone back to the flat to sleep.

"What happened? Did you have a bad reaction to the potion?" Frank asked the next morning as he was filling out the discharge papers. Harry sat on the chair tying his trainers.

"No… I stopped taking the potion," Harry said.

"Look, Mr. Potter—Harry, if you won't take the potion it's dangerous… the wolf is a part of you now. We had to call in a specialist in Occlumency to help us because you had premerging attack. This is basically when the Wolf side of you tries to take over your thinking. Generally it happens when transforming, but it happened prematurely probably due to stress."

"I didn't choose to stop taking the potion. It was… accidentally thrown away," Harry mumbled the last part.

Frank looked at him curiously.

"It helps to have family and friends support—"

"No, I'm fine," Harry said sharply. Luna walked back into the room with a new bottle of potion, which Harry took gratefully from her.

"There isn't any permanent damage this time, but since is the first time you're transforming I wouldn't go off the potion," Luna said, unusually serious.

Harry nodded.

*

Harry watched the window looking for obvious signs of movement. He knew it was coming, he could feel the deer lurking behind the tree line. He could taste Ginny's shampoo on the tip of his tongue; the once cool satin sheet itched and scratched at his raw skin. He couldn't brush the feeling that he was somehow unclean, but a shower wouldn't help. Nothing would help.

Harry moved to the over-padded chair in the corner of the room, careful to not wake Ginny. He smiled as she shifted slightly but didn't wake.

He stared out the window.

"Harry, come back to bed," Ginny mumbled sleepily. Harry cleared his throat as the sound brushed over his sensitive skin.

"I'm sorry, I have to finish some work," he lied. She mumbled something else and turned over.

The rest of the night passed in relative peace.

*

"Werewolves—" Ron said the next morning at work. Harry spilled the cup of coffee he was holding and winced as the lukewarm liquid wet his trousers. The wet trousers stuck to his skin, grating irritatingly on the nerves there. God, he hadn't even been able to take a shower this morning because of the sensitivity.

"What? Who? I don't—" Harry said. Ron gave him an odd look but passed a handful of tissues his way.

"You okay, mate? You look a bit tired. Ginny been keeping you up?" he asked, looking disturbed.

"No, nothing like that," Harry said, smiling when Ron looked relieved.

"Oh, good. I would hate to think of you as corrupting my sister before you're married," Ron said, slapping him on the back. Harry gasped. Sharp fragments of pain radiated out from the spot. It was too much, Harry fell onto the ground.

"Harry!" Ron said, grasping his shoulder. Another wave of pain, his vision went blurry. It wasn't just that everything was out of focus, but the wrong color as well.

"Ron, let go! Ron immediately dropped his arm. The pain began to fade until it was nothing more than little pinpricks.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked.

"Nothing, I'm just a little tired."

"Sod you and your stupid complex. You collapsed day before yesterday! What'll happen when Kingsley slaps you on the back for a job well done?" Ron asked.

"I will be fine."

"That's a far cry from 'nothing' don't you think," Ron said with a snort.

"Ron, just leave it."

"You're pale, you haven't been sleeping and quite honestly I don't think I've seen you eat more than a piece or two of chocolate in the past two days. Hell, I'm not the most observant of blokes, but you look worse than Lupin after a full moon." Harry wanted to laugh at the irony of the statement.

"It's been a rough week."

"It's Wednesday."

Harry managed to pull himself off the floor and stood. It was depressing how much effort it took to simply stand without holding onto anything. Ron's expression suddenly softened.

"Take the rest of the day off," Ron said. Harry wanted to protest, but somehow the words wouldn't leave his lips. He could feel his eyes drooping.

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you," Ron said grabbing his sleeve and dragging him toward the door.

"You're starting to sound like Hermione," he said. Ron smiled.

"Well, she does do some things better than me."

"Before, what were you saying about werewolves?" Harry asked.

"Oh, Hermione is organizing a fundraiser to overturn the bill that barred werewolves from seeking employment. She wanted to know if you and Ginny would come. But don't worry about it yet, get some rest! " Ron shuddered. "After that last assignment I'm not sure I really want that bill to pass."

"You know perfectly well that not all of them are like that, I mean Remus—."

"I didn't mean it, mate!" he said, throwing his hands up. "You need to get some sleep!"

Harry closed his eyes and Apparated to St. Mungo's.

Harry arrived in the lobby of St. Mungo's and ran up to the third level.

"That's not some sensitivity, I can barely sit! I feel like my skin is crawling," Harry said, barging into Luna's office. She was sitting at her desk with an upside down medical journal. Some things never changed.

"It dulls with time, it's just because this is only your first transformation," Luna said setting down her book.

"I can't even wear my regular clothes… I had to glamour most of it on today."

Luna laughed.

"It's not funny!"

"I know, I know, but I just keep seeing the expression of the Minister when he found out his top Auror student is actually wearing no more than a pair of pants," Luna said twirling her wand.

Harry gave a wan smile.

"There is a potion that'll reduce the sensitivity, but it has some side effects…" Luna continued.

Harry sighed. "What side effects?"

"Sexual dysfunction," she said.

It wasn't like he could even touch Ginny if he wanted to. Every time he touched her he kept seeing her dead body with a wolf sitting next to her, it's fur speckled with drops of blood.

"Fine," he said. Luna gestured for him to sit on the examining table.

"I want to run some checks to make sure you haven't developed any allergies. You'll need to remove your glamour."

"Can I get a gown?" Harry asked, shifting uncomfortably.

Luna gave him her peculiar stare.

"Please?" Harry asked. She nodded and took out a gown from one of the many cabinets and handed it to him before turning around.

Harry quickly donned the gown and removed the glamour.

The gown was wonderfully light. It felt as though he was wearing a cloth made of air.

"What is this made of?"

"Unicorn hair, it's normally used for burn victims," Luna said as she scrutinized his arm.

"Ow!" Harry said as she touched his hand.

"Where does the pain seem to be radiating from?" she asked.

Harry lifted his right arm. Luna gave him a dreamy look. He supposed it was her version of a frown.

"Take off your ring."

"Why?" Harry said as he tugged it off. It burned. Small tendrils of smoke curled around his fingertips. The instant Harry placed it down on the table much of the pain receded. It wasn't completely gone, but it was much better.

"Silver. Werewolves can't stand the touch of silver, and Nargles, of course. They're natural enemies..." Luna said.

"It's my engagement ring…" Harry said.

"Well, it's only hurting you more. Does this hurt?"

She pressed into his stomach. Pain radiated from the point, but it was manageable.

"No, nothing," Harry lied.

"That's unusual because that would mean your liver is dead," Luna said. "Have you been drinking cat urine?"

"Maybe it does hurt a little," Harry said. Luna smiled.

"I don't think you'll need a different potion, just don't wear your ring," she said.

Harry nodded.

"The potion maker has agreed to let you stay at his house for the night you transform… unfortunately it's going to cost you," Luna said.

Harry marveled at the way she seemed to be so unconcerned about everything, but cared for it at the same time.

"It doesn't matter. As long as they keep their mouth shut," he said.

*

BREAK HERE FOR LENGTH

*

"This is the potion maker's house?" Harry asked, pulling up the hood on his cloak a little higher as to hide the telltale scar. He and Luna approached a posh townhouse in the elite Wizarding district.

"Well, not his true home. That is where his heart is, but it is where he sleeps, eats, takes a—."

"Thanks, Luna!" Harry said, reaching up to ring the doorbell. The door itself was a heavy rosewood that had a design inlaid with gold on the outer edge. Glancing around Harry saw that there were intricate designs on the outside of the house. Harry suspected that the flowers in the flowerbox only took the most expensive bottled water and demanded twenty minutes of exclusive sunlight.

"We look suspicious," she said.

Harry could only agree. He nervously twisted his engagement ring around his finger. After the appointment the other day he had taken the ring down to the jeweler and had a duplicate made out of steel. It was considerable different feeling on his hand, but it kept Ginny from finding out so he wore it.

There was a crack of magic in the air and Harry felt the wards slip into place around them. Silver writing appeared on the door.

iCome in./i

Unsure of what to do, Harry stood still until Luna shoved him forward. He fell through the door with a thud; his overnight bag flew out of his hands, leaving only the marble floor to catch his fall.

"Graceful as ever, Potter," a familiar drawl came from above. Harry looked up into the face of Draco Malfoy.

Nightmare didn't even begin to cover this.

"What, so surprised that I make a living off the very people that your Ministry rejects? Their money still weighs the same in the bank." Draco smirked. It wasn't a very attractive look on him, Harry realized. Especially now that it looked forced and out of place on Draco's more mature face.

"I didn't say anything," Harry said, pushing himself off the ground.

Luna gave him a smile and a hug before leaving him alone with Draco.

They walked in silence down the vaguely familiar hall until Harry spoke.

"This is a big townhouse."

"This isn't the townhouse; the door is a portal to the Manor."

"Oh," Harry said. The Malfoy's reputation hadn't come out of the war unscathed, but their wealth had due to overseas banking laws. Harry would have lobbied for them to pay a heavier fine if Lucius hadn't started the War Orphans Fund which did a world of good. Even Hermione couldn't find blame with the organization's mission statement.

They walked in awkward silence through the ornate halls of Malfoy Manor. Draco led him upstairs to a tower room. It was small, but comfortable looking. It certainly didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the house.

"Is this your first time?" Draco asked, handing Harry a goblet of potion.

Harry nodded taking the goblet. He walked around the room, parting the heavy drapes and glanced up at the heavy full moon. The goblet fell from his hand, precious potion spattered on the floor.

"Potter! You fucking idiot!" Draco yelled. Harry watched through slitted eyes as Draco ran to the door, but fumbled with the key as the door locked from both the inside and out. Harry felt every muscle in his body contract and then break. A resounding crack, like a tree branch snapping, as his back broke, his vision going blurry white, his mind going a deep black.

iGone. Something is shaking the door. Tilts his head. It doesn't smell like food. Hungry. Walks up to the figure. It whirls around, a dramatic flush of blacks and spontaneous purples before emerging as wolf.

Not like them, but its right. It's healthy. He nudges it with his nose. It smells okay./i

*

Harry woke up the next morning, naked, every muscle in his body screaming in individual agony with the realization that he had no idea what had happened the previous night. The rising sun's light shown down mocking him with its warm light.

He wondered if this was how Remus felt all the time. Scared of what he was, of what he had become. Of course, Remus didn't have the benefits of Wolfsbane until later in his life so maybe his thoughts were different, more primal after the change. Harry's admiration of Remus grew. The sheer amount of willpower is must have taken to pursue what his human side had wanted when it was easier just to give into the instinct of the wolves.

He wished he were dead. For the first time in his life he understood what it meant to have "purity of blood". He could feel the poison running through his veins. It hurt more and more to wake up in the morning because that meant that there wasn't purity in his blood, it was corruption, it was pain, it was the undeniable proof that he had been forsaken by whatever love had protected him before.

"Potter, it's morning," Draco said, knocking on the door. Harry felt his stomach jump at the voice. All things considered, Harry couldn't quite remember what happened the previous night. He remembered that the Wolfsbane had spilled and had fleeting memories or fur preventing him from doing a number of considerable stupid acts... Warm, heavy, so light in color it was white, fur, that's all he could remember

Harry didn't move to answer the door. Draco was probably pissed off for dropping his precious potion on the ground. He wondered how Draco got out of the room.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, his voice cracking.

"Never thought I'd hear you say those words," Draco said. "It's a weekday, I'm pretty sure you have a job or something you need to be at soon."

"Why do you care, I still don't get it."

"That's the beauty of not caring what you think, Potter. I don't have to tell you anything."

"I'm sorry," Harry repeated. "I just forgot about the moon and the window."

"And sometimes mistakes get people killed," Draco said. Harry felt a dull heat rising in his cheeks.

"I'm leaving," Harry said, pushing himself off the ground. He caught sight of Pansy behind him.

"What's she doing here?" he asked.

"She helps run my business," Draco said defensively. Harry attempted to raise one eyebrow, but instead ended up creating small ridges across his forehead.

"My, my, little Potter is all grown up," Pansy said, her eyes traveling down his body. "Oops! Except for the important parts," she finished, lighting a cigarette.

Harry blushed and realized that he was still naked. He quickly covered himself with his hand. Draco threw a robe at him.

"That's yours," he said before leaving.

*

Harry was stuck. His vision hadn't gone back and was stuck in black and white. Harry didn't know if it bothered him more that he couldn't see color or that he couldn't remember what color looked like anymore.

Not for the first time he wondered where he went wrong.

Possibly the day he was born, or the day Voldemort tried to kill him, or maybe—

"You look terrible. What kind of special assignment did you have to go on? Troll wrestling?" Ginny asked.

Harry smiled.

"Troll wrestling is still better than paperwork."

She sat next to him on the couch and stroked his hair. It reminded Harry of the one time he had seen Pansy look almost happy their sixth year. She always looked like she wanted him to die now. Harry wondered what had made her that way.

Harry fell into Ginny's touch, imagining Draco's lean strong hands caressing his head, chopping ingredients until he fell asleep.

*

The wine flowed around Harry like music in the theatre. It was warm in the room, not warm enough that he was sweating, but warm enough that it added to a familiar feel of the room. Gems of conversation moved freely from guest to guest and floated in the air like a fine sheen of gold dust encompassing all the guests. Harry had never felt less human.

The caviar was served on silver platters lined in gold; delicate pastries seemed to magically float into his mouth.

The anniversary of Voldemort's death was celebrated every year with a large party funded by the Ministry. Ron showed up to get pissed on expensive brandy, Harry showed up because he was practically threatened with his job if he didn't, and Hermione showed up to make sure that neither of them did anything they would regret the next morning.

This was not an easy task. Last year Ron had transfigured one of the dining tables into a giant trampoline and had proceeded to try to get the Minister to jump on it with him.

Luna walked in the room wearing a deep blue evening robe. It was beautiful and seemed to sweep up men and women along with the floor with her trailing train.

"Harry!" she called out, waving to him. She was wearing mismatched earrings, but tonight it seemed to work.

"Luna, how are you?" he said, kissing her cheek.

"Lovely. This is Draco he consults for St. Mungo's in Occlumency sometimes. I invited him as my date to the dinner," she said. Draco looked as though he wanted to be anywhere but there. Luna spun around as if someone had called her name and left.

"Enjoying yourself, Potter?" Draco drawled. He made a cutting figure in Harry's vision, black velvet robes with his white blond hair. The vision was ruined by the expression on Draco's face.

"Erm… yes. It's okay," Harry said. An awkward silence passed between them, but neither of them found an excuse to leave.

"So you consult in Occlumency?" Harry asked, trying to make small talk.

Draco shrugged. "It's a side job; they certainly don't pay me enough to make a living because of what I was."

Harry nodded, unsure of what to say. The heat was hovering in a cloud above his skin; a sure sign the Wolf was close.

Draco gave him a bitter smile. "I don't think they would call at all if they needed to except that it's not an easy art and no matter who they were, I learned from the best."

"Oh… are you dating Parkinson, then?" he blurted out.

Draco cleared his throat. "We have an arrangement."

Harry wanted to ask about the specifics of the arrangement, but it was quite clear that Draco didn't wish to discuss it. His fingers itched to reach out and touch Draco. He wanted to pull Draco close to him and—

Shit. What was he thinking? Ginny was in the bathroom! They were engaged. He looked at the floor, trying to avoid looking into those captivating eyes. Bad idea. His eyes were drawn to Draco's trousers. They were made of an understated, but slightly shimmery fabric that molded itself to every bulge.

"Potter, my face is up here. Is there something terribly interesting on my shoes?" Draco said. Harry looked up at him guiltily, not bothering to correct his mistake.

"Uh…yeah. I mean—how is the business coming along?" Harry asked, feeling as though he had just shot himself in the foot.

"As to be expected," he said, swilling his wine.

Harry watched the movement hypnotically waiting for it to spill over. It never did.

"If you were a wolf what kind would you be?" Harry asked, proud that he managed to be slightly subtle in his interrogations.

"Harry!" Ginny's voice came from behind him before Draco could answer. She was smiling. He missed being able to see her red hair. It was so full of life. In black and white she seemed to be a dull figure next to Draco.

"Ginny, this is Draco Malfoy… from school," Harry said, awkwardly.

"Malfoy," she nodded her head toward him. It was better than a Bat Bogey Hex, he supposed. After a few minutes of forced small talk Ginny was called away by Hermione leaving Harry and Draco standing in the corner.

The countdown was starting. Harry looked around for Ginny but couldn't find her anywhere.

5…

Draco was squished against him as people closed in around them excitedly jostling each other.

4…

The Wolf sat up with a start. Harry took a deep breath trying to calm himself as to not lose control.

3…

He couldn't handle the smells. His defenses were tumbling down. An overload of senses and smells ran into him. He could smell the wine on Ginny's breath from across the room, he could feel Hermione's hair tickle him, and hear Ron's voice carry from the whisper in the bathroom to his ears.

2…

Draco's hand was around him, holding him up.

"Potter!" he whispered, leaning Harry up against the wall.

1….

The Wolf was calm, Draco smelled like cedar and warmth.

"Harry!" Ginny's voice rang above the crowd. Draco pulled away instantly.

Ginny ran over and kissed him. Harry was left with the distinct feeling of emptiness.

"It was a wonderful party this year," she said.

"It was," Harry said later that night. The image of Draco didn't leave his mind even as he fell asleep.

*

And there was nothing but the smells. It stuck to her skin like the sticky juice of mangos on fingers. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on filtering out the familiar ones. There was the smell of her shampoo, cookies, burnt rubber… eventually Harry had managed to get it down to three smells.

The Wolf was shaking with disapproval. Harry got the impression that it didn't like Ginny, but he controlled the wolf, the Wolf did not control him.

"How is Wood doing?" Harry asked, recognizing one of the smells. Ginny gave him a startled look.

"Uh, he's good. How did you know I ran into Oliver today?" she asked. Harry looked around for something to inspire a story.

"Oh, I saw him?" Harry lied, accidently making it sound like a question.

"Where?" Ginny asked as she brushed her hair.

"Ginny, I have to go on an overnight assignment tomorrow night," Harry said.

She looked up at him. "What? It's our two year anniversary; I thought we were going out to dinner!"

"I'm sorry, but Kingsley—"

"Let me talk to him," she said,

"No! " Harry said. "I—I told Kingsley not to give me preferential treatment and I don't want it. We'll do something when I get back, okay?" he finished, patting her thigh.

Ginny was silent. "This is the second time they are sending you on an overnight assignment. Why isn't Ron going?" she asked.

Harry knocked over the night lamp thereby distracting her.

Shit, he had to think of a better excuse. He wasn't sure that Ron would buy that excuse if Ginny asked him about it.

*

Harry felt like a cartoon character in that had somehow stumbled into the real world. He was awkward, bloated and completely useless.

"Potter, stop tapping your foot. I can't concentrate," Draco muttered as he carefully stirred the cauldron.

Harry had come by early and had caught Draco at the end of his preparation of the Wolfsbane.

"I'm not tapping my foot," Harry said.

"If I screw up this potion, you could die," Draco said. Harry stopped tapping his foot.

"When did you learn to become an Animagus?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged.

"Sometime after seventh year."

"I could report you."

"I could report you," Draco replied, filling a goblet with the potion. He handed it to Harry. "There, now get out of my lab."

Draco turned away to pick a fallen ladle; his smooth hair bouncing because of the sudden movement. Somehow the movement seemed familiar. When Draco turned back around Harry found himself facing the hauntingly familiar mercury eyes of Draco Malfoy.

It couldn't be—Harry thought before accidently walking into the table, hit his knee. He instinctively dropped the cup and clutched his foot.

Harry yelped.

"Fuck!" Draco yelled as the potion splashed on his robed.

"Your eyes—" Harry said.

"Why can't you just drink the damn potion?" Draco yelled, grabbing a rag off the table and attempted to wipe the potion off his robes.

"You're an Animagus," Harry said.

"I didn't think you would remember," Draco said after a moment.

"I didn't, but you have the same eyes," Harry said.

Draco snorted. "That's hardly my fault. I trust you not to tell anyone."

Harry nodded before letting out a small chuckle.

"What?" Draco asked.

"I always considered you to be more of a ferret than a wolf."

Draco flushed.

"Funny, Potter. People change."

"Not that much," Harry said.

Draco didn't respond instead handed him another goblet of potion.

"If you drop this one you can consider our business relationship over."

Harry took it carefully and left to go up to the tower room.

Harry was surprised when Draco padded into the room after Harry had taken the Wolfsbane and transformed. The crawling itchiness immediately stopped with Draco rubbed up against him, his smooth fur and dusk-like scent filling Harry's nostrils.

*

Harry stood in front of Remus's grave holding Teddy. He smiled when he realized that Teddy's hair was a mess of inky black hair.

"Trust me when I say you don't want hair like this," Harry said trying futilely to flatten Teddy's hair. Teddy giggled and moved away from this hand. Harry moved back so that he could see Remus's and Tonk's graves.

"Your father and mother loved you very much," he said to Teddy. He wasn't sure why he decided to come up here today. It felt… right, he supposed.

Teddy gave him a somber look with his large clear eyes.

But not enough to stay on this earth with me.

He seemed to be saying. Harry set Teddy down.

"Unca Draco!" Teddy screamed, running down the knoll to meet Draco who had suddenly appeared at the graveyard.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked him.

"Goyle is buried here," he said, picking up Teddy, whose hair was now a white blond.

"Such loyalty, one could mistake you as a Gryffindor," Harry muttered.

"Such defiance, one could mistake you as a Slytherin," he said.

"Your hair is pretty," Teddy told him, reaching up to touch it. Draco smiled indulgently as Teddy rubbed his head.

"How have you been, little man, keeping grandma busy?" he asked. Harry was surprised at the ease with which he talked to Teddy. Draco must have visited with Teddy as well.

While Teddy babbled on about his latest exploits Harry watched Draco. He was surprised by how things had changed. When he was a third year he never even imagined that he would call Draco by his first name, but after the return of Voldemort their rivalry paled in comparison to the chaos that Voldemort evoked.

"Potter, would you like to join us for ice cream?" he asked. Harry nodded stiffly.

"I'm supposed to be watching him."

"You can still watch him," Draco said, walking down the hill.

They stopped at an ice cream stand in a park nearby. Teddy ran off to play on the swing sets. Harry couldn't help but smile at his carefree nature.

"You love her," Draco said, sitting down next to him on the bench.

Harry nodded. He couldn't say the words anymore.

"You realize that the Wolf will never leave, right? There is no magic cure."

"I know."

Draco laughed bitterly. "It's so like you to keep playing martyr for an audience that isn't there."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think you love her."

Harry stood up, his fists clenched. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know how the Wolf thinks and it's not going to end well."

The sun set behind the trees creating the illusion that the sky was bleeding.

*

Ginny didn't believe him.

He could tell by the way she closed her eyes as he left.

He could tell by the way she wouldn't touch him.

He could tell by the way she said his name.

Work hadn't exactly been fun and games either. While the Wolf improved his reflex times and strength, but it made him sensitive so that every hit he took was ten times as worse around this time of month.

The third actual transformation had gone well. No side effects, and while he couldn't remember everything, he remembered enough that he knew he didn't make a complete fool of himself. Somehow the Wolf just loved every little thing about Draco. The Wolf wanted nothing more than to strip Draco down and lick—

Harry stopped. It was unusual that the Wolf was picturing a ihuman/i Draco naked.

"How do you like your eggs?" Pansy asked, wandering into the kitchen. She waved her wand over the stove.

"I can do it myself," Harry said. She shushed him with a wave of her hands.

"I'm the host, I'll do it," she said smiling sweetly. Harry nodded, he felt as though his body had been used a trampoline the previous night. A horrible thought crossed his mind— had he and Draco done something?

"Morning, my delightful little flower," Draco said, walking into the kitchen.

"And idiot," Draco finished nodding to him.

"Don't call me that," Pansy said, kissing him on the cheek.

Pansy set a plate of eggs sunny side up in front of him. Harry glanced down.

"I know you wanted your eggs well done, but I figured it was time the great Harry Potter had something not go his way," she said, pinching his cheek. Harry jerked back from her touch. She laughed.

"I don't think she likes me," Harry said after she had walked out of the room, her brown hair streaming out behind her.

"She's in the minority."

"Come off it! It's not like you don't have friends," Harry said, looking forlornly at the stove. He wondered if it was too early to sneak into his and Ginny's flat.

Draco was silent as he sipped a mug of coffee that had appeared from nowhere. Harry noticed a large bruise forming on his forearm. It looked as though he had attempted to hit something and missed.

"How was it?" Draco asked after a moment. Harry nodded.

"I think that you're getting better at making the potion, it didn't take as long."

"I was good before you."

"But I made you better," Harry said. It was nice being able to banter with someone without having to worry about them discovering his secret. He wasn't sure when he decided that he enjoyed Malfoy's company.

Perhaps it was that Malfoy's company was just better than everyone else's company.

He wasn't sure about anything anymore. Pansy returned to the kitchen smoking a cigarette elegantly. He was forced to admit it was oddly suitable for her. Harry coughed politely in hopes that she would notice.

"Draco, I need…" she finished her statement in French. Harry was sure she did it only to exclude him

"Potter seems stranger than usual lately," Pansy said later.

"Could be the drugs," Draco said shrugging.

"I have a feeling the problem runs deeper than that."

"Mother – son issues? I mean he is dating a carbon-copy of his mother…" Draco said, jabbing at his bacon.

"Some people are just not meant for great things," Pansy said. "Especially ones who kill the innocent," she added, staring directly at Harry.

*

The iProphet/i ran the story with a picture of him leaving the jewelry shop. No matter that the picture was outdated by three months and that there was no "other woman" (if they had said there was another man then that'd be a whole different story). Harry could hear the water running through the pipes in the wall; Ginny was showering and thus hadn't seen the paper yet. Harry stuffed the paper in the trash. Who the hell gave them the story?

It had to be Drac—Malfoy. Who else would be this cruel?

Angrily, he Apparated to work intent on coming up with a way to destroy Draco. Possibly he should just tell to Kingsley that Malfoy was dealing potions without a license. Then again, that might lead to some questions as to how Harry had found out.

Hermione threw down the morning newspaper at their usual lunch meeting.

"Are you cheating on Ginny?"

The headlining article, in bold dark black proclaimed: HARRY POTTER CAUGHT BUYING NEW RING FOR NEW WOMAN.

"You know as well as I do that that's complete shit," Harry said.

"It's not only that," Hermione said. She turned to the society page where a small blurb showed a picture of a man leaving the townhouse belonging to Pansy Parkinson. Harry realized that Pansy and Draco must be working together to distribute the potions illegally. An irrational jealousy shot through him. The Wolf sat up.

"That's you isn't it?" Hermione asked. Harry leaned closer and saw a flash of his Auror badge in the picture. Fuck.

"It's not what you think."

"Then why go?"

"I had… business there. Auror business," Harry said.

"Without your partner?" she asked.

Her eyes focused on his neck.

"I've been covering for you all this time! I haven't even told Ron," she whispered.

"Wh—what are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"Your little monthly problem!"

Harry shouldn't have been surprised that she had managed to piece it together even given a little information.

He smiled sardonically.

"How long have you known?"

"Awhile." Harry nodded.

"Are you going to tell Ginny?"

She looked torn. "You haven't told her? What the hell are you thinking? I thought you loved her!"

"I do love her! I just don't want her to worry, I want to protect her," he said. Hermione eyes had gone somewhere between a cross bear and a rabid raccoon. She lifted her hand up and smacked him straight across the face.

His head snapped back, not necessarily by the force of her slap but the shock that she actually hit him.

"Wha—?"

"You bastard! Just who do you think you are? This is your life and she is a part of your life, how can you even think that it won't affect her? She loves you and you would be honest if you truly cared about her!" Hermione finished. Her hair had escaped the confines of her severe bun.

"I go to Parkinson's flat when I transform. Drac—Malfoy makes me Wolfsbane and I transform in the tower room," Harry said finally. Hermione looked upset.

"I don't—" she started.

"I can't wear silver anymore—that's why I had to go to the jewelers and ask them to make me a ring that looked the same but was made of a different metal," Harry continued. It felt good to talk to someone not involved in the whole thing.

Hermione was silent. He was almost afraid she would call Ginny and demand that he explain it to her. His cheeks burned at the thought.

"I was going to tell her after we were married, but I'm afraid. We haven't even set a date for the wedding," Harry said.

Hermione patted his knee.

"Lying is rarely good in a relationship."

"I can't see now. I can't breathe because it's always there, just under the surface…" Harry said.

Hermione stood up. "You should have told us. How did this happen?"

"I just don't understand—why me? Why now? I did my job, I fulfilled the prophecy! What more could you want from me? I didn't do anything! I wasn't attacked if that's what you're asking. It doesn't make any sense," Harry spat out.

Hermione frowned. "One cannot spontaneously become a werewolf, it's impossible," she said.

Harry buried his hands in his hair. He felt as though his eyes were glowing and struggled to control his temper.

"Well, most people don't think magic is real either," he said.

*

The day had been terrible. Harry was so distracted and jittery that even Ron noticed. He wanted to strangle Malfoy. He could see that pretty little neck snapping under the force—

"Potter!" Kingsley yelled.

Harry jumped out of his seat.

"Go home and get some sleep. That's an order!" Kingsley said as he walked away from Harry's cubicle. Harry plastered on a smile and packed up his stuff.

Harry Apparated to Pansy's flat and walked through the door to get to Malfoy Manor. He was pleased to find Draco sitting and reading. He pulled Draco off the couch and shoved him up against the wall.

"Tell me, Malfoy, what's your game? You going to sell me out to the Aurors? Report me to the Ministry so that you can collect all the reward money?"

Draco turned his head to the left.

"Look at me, dammit! Have the common decency to admit that you screwed me over!"

"Your breath reeks," Draco said calmly.

Harry shoved at him roughly again so that Draco's head smacked against the wall.

"I didn't do it," Draco said.

"Stop lying to me!" Harry said. The blacks and whites blurred into one grey blob. Stupid tears.

"I know what you're doing here," Draco whispered against his throat. Harry gasped out as the air hit his sensitized flesh.

"You know nothing about why I'm here!" Harry said, his voice shaking with rage. The adrenaline mixed with the Wolf's rage at the betrayal made him feel invincible. He slammed Draco against the wall again.

Draco laughed.

"What are you going to do? Kill me?"

"No one would hear, no one would ever find out," Harry said trying to sound threatening, but sounding more desperate instead.

"I think that you want someone to hear," Draco said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you have no one. The great Harry Potter bathed in angst and the people he cares about don't even notice," Draco said with a smile.

"Shut up, I'm not screaming," Harry whispered his voice hoarse. There was little else to say. They were so close. He could smell the tangy orange juice Draco had for breakfast. And then their lips touched.

*

Ron came over the next day and sat at his cubicle.

"When were you planning on telling me?" he asked.

Harry set down his quill.

"Ron, I didn't want you to worry."

"She's my sister. I told you not to fucking play games with her!" he whispered.

Harry looked at the ceiling.

"Hit me, I deserve it. I didn't think it would go this far… I didn't know what it really meant when they told me."

Harry closed his eyes and prepared himself to take the hit. Instead he felt a slight weight on his lap. He looked down and saw a leather-bound book.

"My mum had this… it was Remus's. Someone took all the pages except for the first and last one," Ron said. "I still thought you would like to read them."

"I—I don't know what to say," Harry said.

Ron shrugged. "I'm guessing you aren't registered."

Harry shook his head.

"Do you love her?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded.

"Say it."

Harry opened his mouth but the words were caught in the back of his throat.

"Who is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there has to be someone that made you change your mind."

"There's no one," Harry said, picking up his quill.

Ron knocked the quill out of his hand. "I'm fucking tired of your lies!"

"Don't ask questions that you don't want the answers to!"

Ron stood up and left.

Harry fingered the book before placing it in his bag to take home. He Apparated home and found Ginny waiting for him.

"Harry! I overdrew on our checking account. I could have sworn we had five hundred galleons in there. Did you make any big purchases without telling me?" Ginny asked visibly upset.

"Uh, no. I haven't transferred money recently—"

"I looked at the statement. It says you authorized one-hundred-fifty galleons transfer to some company called DP Co," she said.

Harry shook his head. "They must be mistaken."

"I'll go in and talk to them," Harry said.

"Harry, is there something you aren't telling me?" Ginny asked. "I won't be angry if you decided to splurge and buy the new broom."

"It's a mistake," Harry repeated, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Ginny's ear.

Ginny jerked away.

"Did this money happen to go towards a new ring? I see here, that you did go the jewelers. Don't bother denying it," Ginny said, waving the bank statement around. Harry cursed the fact they had a joint account.

"I was getting my ring adjusted! You know how the press is—"

"Why did you hide the paper from me this morning, then? Normally, we have a good laugh over these things."

"I didn't want you to—"

"What? You think it was so much better to have one of my teammates shove it in my face?" Ginny asked, tying her hair up, a sure sign she as upset.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, reaching out to hug her. She darted out of his reach.

"I'm going to Hermione's for the night," she said and Apparated before Harry could stop her.

*

Harry wondered it trouble was contagious. It had seeped from his personal life and into his work. Kinglsey had pulled him aside earlier that day and informed him that he was going to be on probation if he didn't step up.

Frustrated, Harry tried to Apparate home only to end up in front of Pansy's flat. He walked through the door and down to the dungeon where he found Draco chopping a ginger root.

Harry roughly pulled him away from the table by the front of his robes and kissed him.

"Potter," Draco breathed against his lips. "I have an appointment this afternoon."

Draco was practically lying down on the table next to the cutting board at this point.

"You could have told me before I started kissing you," Harry said.

Draco shoved him off and gestured for him to move into the living room.

"I don't understand why someone would do this to me," Harry said, collapsing onto the couch sitting as close to Draco as he dared.

"Did it ever occur to you that it wasn't about hurting you?" Draco asked.

Harry glanced up him. "What do you mean?"

"Potter, I know you think yourself the belle of the ball and everyone wants to get in your pants, but it's simply not true," Draco said, smirking.

"Nothing happens without a reason," Harry said, feeling oddly like he was repeating a manta.

The door opened and Hermione was led into the room by a House Elf. Apparently Hermione was who Draco was meeting with.

"Was your family not enough? Why do you have to make a spectacle of Harry's life too?" Hermione looked grim as she said this. Harry froze and his face began to heat up. He sprang up off the couch as though it were a trampoline.

"Potter and I had some business."

"Really?" Hermione asked, straightening up to her full height. "He was practically in your lap."

Harry recognized the glint in her eye. She knew.

The Wolf threatened to lunge at her. Harry shoved it back in its cage.

"But you aren't going to tell anyone else some things about your personal life. I'm sure your husband would love to know about a certain brother of his and what you two were up to when—" Draco started, apparently realizing it too.

"We were broken up and Ron knows about that."

"Really?" Draco asked, mockingly. Harry wanted to punch him.

"Ginny is getting suspicious. She could end up getting hurt. You need to come clean… especially after what I just saw," Hermione said trying to appeal to Harry.

"She's still the girl I want to marry."

"If you really loved her then you would stop lying," Hermione said in a tone that suggested logic.

"Don't you see? I'm doing this for her! Imagine if I was registered, I wouldn't be able to get a job. I wouldn't be able to be the person she needs!" Harry yelled.

"You've finally lost it!" she said, storming off. Harry stood silently in the corner before finally giving into his emotions and moving to Draco. Draco didn't turn away or acknowledge the touch.

There was something horrible about the way his heart twisted at Draco's apathy, but not at the prospect of Ginny leaving him.

"Get out," he said. The Wolf whined piteously at his tone. "I'm not playing second to a Weasley."

"I'm not asking you to," Harry said.

Draco's face twisted. It wasn't a self-satisfied smirk, it conveyed disgust.

"Take off your glasses for a moment and think. You are cheating on the woman you love with a man that you claim you can't live without. Take your pick, Potter, because you sure as hell can't have both."

Harry swallowed.

*

It struck Harry in the middle of the night. He was dozing off on the couch in the flat when it struck him.

The Zabinis'

Who else would have had the opportunity, the motive, the whole game was a set up! It had to be the cursed Apple!

A million and one theories ran through Harry's head. Were they part of an extremist group? Were they Death Eaters? Why not just poison the apple?

Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and ran out the door. He needed money for the tube, he needed a car. Harry dropped his wand before realizing that he was a Wizard. He stuck his wand out. A large purple bus seemingly fell out of the shadows.

"Can you drop me off outside the Zabinis'?" Harry asked the conductor, who nodded.

A mere seven stops later Harry was outside his destination. He clutched his wand tighter. In retrospect, he wasn't sure if it was a good idea to confront them alone… in his pants and a ratty shirt. Harry quickly transfigured his shirt into something more formal and his pants into trousers. Hopefully no one would look too closely.

Harry closed his eyes he tried to Apparate inside only to be thrown back by the wards.

Harry visualized a tear in the shield, but none appeared. Instead he screamed. The lights went on and Blaise came out. Inexplicable Pansy stood in the door.

"Potter?" he asked.

"Why me?" Harry managed. He suddenly felt weak.

"What you do mean?"

"Who are you working for?" Harry spat out. His muscles had gone into spasms.

"Potter, shut up. The Zanbinis' didn't have any sort of conspiracy against you. This is karma for all those lives you've fucked up," Pansy said trailing her hand along his chin a parody of affection. "Now be a good little dog and get back to your home."

Blaise looked at her questioningly, but didn't say anything. Harry looked at the house that seemed to expand into time and space and used all his energy to Apparate home.

He ended up in Malfoy Manor in Draco's room. Draco sat at his desk, writing in a small journal.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I can't just break it off yet. I need time. I don't want to hurt her."

Draco's gaze seemed to penetrate his skull and scan his thoughts. Harry turned away and climbed into the bed.

"I'm not going to coddle you," he said, moving toward the bed.

"Good," Harry whispered. "I'm tired of being told who I am."

*

He was being followed.

Harry pulled the cloak down to cover most of his face. The last thing he needed to do was to be recognized.

It was no matter; he was training to be an Auror after all. Every month it became easier and easier to lie to Ginny… it was terrible.

Harry stopped and let his senses expand. He didn't feel anything in this area which meant the stalker had probably disappeared.

He went through the door and walked down the hall to the tower room. Pansy sat outside the door wearing a short silk robe holding a martini. Why she was in the hallway, Harry could only guess.

"Draco left the potion for you. He had to attend to something else," Pansy said in between puffs of smoke. Harry nodded and took the goblet from her. He swallowed it in one gulp. The sugary sweet mixture scratched his throat but did little else.

Shit, it wasn't supposed to be sugary. Harry whirled around, but Pansy was already gone. She had sabotaged the potion! Harry looked around wildly for someplace to lock himself in. He could feel his body quivering in anticipation of the new change.

He barely managed to make it down the dungeon. He felt it again. The door didn't shut behind him. The door was stopped by something—somebody.

A shimmery grey cloak materialized and the door closed behind her.

Ginny.

It was too late; the change had already started. He was sure she was screaming, but he couldn't hear it over the sound of his own screams.

She shakily raised her wand, Harry reflexively snapped at her, knocking the wand into a corner past him.

"Harry? Is that you?" she asked in a small voice. Harry prowled the short distance between them. Meat. iNo,/i Harry fought back.i Mine./i

The door flew open again, this time revealing Draco. The Wolf shook its head in disappointment at his human form, but hummed in delight at the scent of him.

"Just stand very still," Draco said, throwing his wand to her.

"Please tell me he took Wolfsbane," she said. She looked calm, but her voice quivered at the end of the sentence.

"Someone sabotaged the potion, just don't move and when he's distracted run out of the room," he said. Draco disappeared in a swirl of robe again and emerged as a wolf.

Harry silently padded over and sat next to his mate. He heard the door open and shut.

Silence.

The sound of breathing.

Night.

*

"Was there someone else?" Ginny asked when he walked into the flat. She wasn't crying, but Harry could tell it was an effort on her part. Ron was behind her, struggling with two giant suitcases. The flat felt half finished with majority of the objects going with Ginny. He felt like a piece of his soul was going with her. He wondered if he could let go of this life. He wondered if he had made the right decision. Why did the truth always lead to bad things?

"There is no other woman, I wasn't lying about that," Harry said quietly. A tear slipped past her eye and slid down her cheek. Harry clenched his fist; he couldn't stand to see her like this. He couldn't stand seeing her hurt.

"Bastard," she said wiping it off her face. "You made me cry."

"You don't have to leave," he said.

"You didn't have to lie!" Ginny said. Harry said nothing. The damage was done and it was permanent—somehow he didn't think a mere dinner could fix this. He didn't think he wanted to fix this—it was a nostalgic part of the past. He wanted something… he wasn't sure what.

"I wanted—" Harry didn't finish. The reason didn't make sense anymore.

"What did you want?" she asked.

"I wanted you to be happy," Harry said. "I didn't want you to worry and I thought I could handle it. I wanted us to have the house with the white picket fence. I wanted the Potter brood. I wanted to make love—"

The lamp on the other side of the room exploded.

"Well, as you can see I'm really happy now," Ginny said sarcastically.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, aware how inadequate the word was to describe his emotions.

Ginny wiped the tears before they could run down her cheek and walked out the door, her suitcases trailing behind her.

"Yeah, me too," she said.

Harry was left standing alone in the half empty flat.

*

IT WAS ALL THE SAME, BUT AT THE SAME TIME SO DIFFERENT. I LIVE EACH MOMENT OVER AND OVER AND EACH DAY AT LEAST TWICE, BUT IT'S DIFFERENT NOW. WHEN I SEE THEM I REALIZE WHAT IT MEANS TO BE HUMAN AND I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER.

-From the Diary of Remus Lupin

*

iEpilogue…

Draco stood at the very back corner of the auditorium. Harry saw him sitting passively as the various graduates walked across the stage and received their Auror medal. When Harry's name was called Draco joined in with a polite applause. It was nothing compared to George's loud catcalls, Mrs. Weasley's tears, or even Luna's yell, but it was something.

There were refreshments to be had, jokes to be told, and people to be pulled into unused closets to be snogged.

"You made it," Harry said.

Draco pulled back.

"I had a cancellation and was able to pencil you in," Draco said, handing Harry a rolled piece of parchment. "Happy graduation day."

Harry took it with a smile. "What is it? I told you not to get me anything!"

Draco took a deep breath as though it pained him to admit it.

"Well, it was hard to shop for a man who has enough money to buy Russia," Draco said.

"So you wrote me a love poem?" Harry asked.

"I told Pansy the truth about that night in the Room of Requirement… I told her that Crabbe essentially killed himself and that you tried to save him," Draco said. "I told her that it wasn't your doing. She wrote you an apology."

Harry started at the small scroll, dumbfounded. Is that why Pansy had tried to hurt him? Harry felt a twist of guilt at the fact that he hadn't been able to save Crabbe.

Harry didn't say anything. Instead he pulled Draco down for a kiss.

*

Potter,

I want to say that you were wrong and I was right, but I can't really say that. I can't really say that you were right either. I'm not going to say the 's' word, but know that I do feel some sort of remorse (I thought it was indigestion at first, but Draco informed me that it was guilt). The apple was pure dumb luck and I took advantage of the situation. When you gave Draco your account number he didn't want to charge you, but since I do the finances I emptied the account. I've put it all back with interest. Also, that press leak may have been my fault, I, also. may have let your fiancé through the ward and I may have sabotaged your potion. But I thought you killed one of the few people I love! I think Draco tried to explain what happened at the funeral, but I was too focused on believing it was you. Black hair, small cock, you certainly fit the profile of a mad killer in my mind.

I wish you the best of luck and if you know what's good for you, you'll be good to Draco (though he deserves better than you, but for some reason he is happy with you).

-Pansy Parkinson

*

Questions/thoughts/concerns are accepted!