The sun rose hazily onto the Burrow. Harry woke up with a yawn, his body back to its new normal. There was no fur, no claws. Only his pale skin and developed toned muscles. It was just like any other morning. He got out of his bed, dressed, brushed his teeth in the bathroom and made his way down to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was already up cooking. "Harry! I didn't expect you to be up so early," she said. "How are you feeling?"
"Good," Harry answered, although he had a feeling that Mrs. Weasley was asking a far more complex question. "I feel the same as I always have. I wasn't even scared when I shifted. I didn't—I didn't turn into a werewolf like Lupin. I was different, I looked completely different. That part scares me. And the fact that I feel good about it."
"Oh dear," Mrs. Weasley said, now facing Harry. "Well, Dumbledore will be here later for a checkup, make sure to tell him this," she said. "as well as fix anything you might have broken."
"But I didn't break anything," Harry said. "Lupin described the experience as painful, violent and savage but what I felt was natural, I remembered who I was throughout. I..." Harry paused, his cheeks blushing as he remembered the long masturbation session he had, "I just shifted, went to the mirror and then slept."
"Oh my," Mrs. Weasley said. "That really is strange. Well, the month is over either ways, and now we best stuff you with food. Would you mind helping a bit?"
"Yeah, sure," Harry said.
Harry helped cracked the eggs and cook the bacon while Mrs. Weasley cooked the rest. "No, Harry," she said at one point when Harry tried to flip the bacon like he always did. "Take out your wand—Dumbledore won't like this but it's a bit necessary now." Harry took out his wand. "Swish it around, like your doing the motion—not to rough now. You boys are always too rough with this sort of things—yes, that's it good." Harry moved his wand, and the bacon flipped itself, as well as the melted grease and fat vanished, only to drizzle from his wand to evenly coat the bacon. "That's how you give it more flavor," Mrs. Weasley said. "Now keep doing it."
Harry and Mrs. Weasley continued to cook as the Weasleys, and Hermione started to filter in. Mrs. Weasley then shooed Harry away, and finished cooking breakfast herself. Harry sat with Ron, "Morning mate so uh... how was it last night?" Ron asked cautiously.
"Fine," Harry answered, "I'm fine. I just—it was different from what Lupin described it, totally different. I didn't feel pain, I remembered who I was. I didn't turn into a werewolf like we saw in our third year—and I looked totally different from Grey … from him." Harry breathed and shook his head. "I don't know what I was."
"Maybe you turned into an Omega," Hermione suggested. "The thing that he called you."
"Maybe," Harry said, feeling downer than when he woke up.
"That's enough of that talk," Mrs. Weasley said. "I don't want to hear anymore about werewolf business until Dumbledore comes—and even then it is to be kept between Harry and Dumbledore, understood?"
"Yes mum," Ron groaned.
Ginny looked at Harry and smiled, Harry couldn't help but notice that she smelt rather flowery. He smiled back friendlily. "So, Harry," she said, "want to go for a little walk with me? We hadn't had a chance to catch up lately. We can play Quidditch."
"That sounds fun, yeah," Harry nodded. "Could use a bit of fresh air personally."
Ginny smiled at that, and Harry was soon lost in a conversation between him, Bill, and Mr. Weasley as they ate their breakfast. When he was done, he left with Ginny outside. "So," Ginny said, "what exactly happened last night? I didn't hear anything."
"Last night?" Harry repeated. "It was… it was different, like I told Ron and Hermione. Different from Professor Lupin's transformation, yeah—"
"Yeah I don't know that," Ginny said. "What exactly is a 'normal' transformation supposed to go like?"
"Painful; your body stretches and turns into this... thing," Harry began, "but I didn't. I turned into, an I don't know what. Walking dog? I had fur, claws and y face turned—but I wasn't ugly, not like Greyback."
"I see," Ginny nodded, "and you didn't do anything?"
"No—not at all," Harry lied, trying to get the flashes of his late night activities out of his mind. Particularly the image of Draco Malfoy.
"Well, that's good at least," Ginny said, "it sounds like you lucked out, huh?"
Harry stopped, "Lucked out?" he asked.
"Yeah, with your transformation," Ginny smiled. Harry frowned. His mind went back to what happened a month ago, how Connor almost died and he was forced to turn, how he had no control over his body and its reactions. He felt disgusted and ashamed. "Lucky," he spat out.
"Huh?" Ginny said, she turned to see Harry's expression, "Oh gosh—no not like that, Oh god I'm sorry Harry!" she said quickly. "I didn't mean—"
"Of course you didn't," Harry said a bit too harshly. "You weren't there." He started to walk away when Ginny yelled.
"Don't walk away like this!" she yelled, "I made a mistake and I'm trying to apologize for it! Don't walk away and ignore that I'm trying to help!"
Harry just gave her a glaring look. "Look," she continued, "Yeah I'm not Ron or Hermione, and you don't' tell me everything right off the bat but that doesn't mean that you can't trust me! Even if I make a mistake like this. Stop trying to walk away let me make up for it!"
"Sorry," Harry bit out. "It's still a sore subject. Will be for a longtime—just, let me be by myself for a while, okay? Go get Bill and Ron and our brooms, I'll be fine by then." He walked away without hearing Ginny's response. He walked around the garden alone, muttering to himself. "Stupid, so stupid," he muttered.
It's just your heat talking, bitch, but you are stupid. All you're good for is taking cock, the voice returned.
"Shut up!" Harry said aggressively, "Just leave me alone!"
The voice laughed, I'll never leave you bitch, not until you accept what you really are.
"You're not here, just stop," Harry said. His arms drew upon himself. "Just leave me alone."
I'm inside you, bitch. I'm in your blood, and soon I'll be inside you fully, I know you want that.
"I don't—just leave me alone," Harry said. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, "I'm going to kill you," he muttered, "I'm going to kill you." The voice just laughed and disappeared.
Harry sat on the ground and did his best to compose himself. He felt better when Ginny returned with Ron and Bill, and the four of them played Quidditch, improving Harry's mood significantly. They played Quidditch the entire morning, which distracted Harry perfectly from the voice, so much so that e forgotten that it had even happen.
Dumbledore came over late in the afternoon. Harry was with Ron and Hermione when Dumbledore walked in. "Harry," he smiled, "I am happy to see that you are in high spirits."
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, standing.
"First, I wanted to have a clear understanding of your transformation last night," Dumbledore said, "Molly has told me that you had a unique experience." He moved into the living room with them, and sat down, "I would like to hear all about it."
Harry nodded and told Dumbledore everything involved in his transformation and last night, omitting only the explicit stuff Harry wanted to keep to himself. When he was done, a silence fell onto the room, as the trio waited to hear Dumbledore's thoughts.
"I see," Dumbledore said, "however I wonder, is the fact that you remained yourself, remembered who you are during your transformation, an effect of your natural transformation as an, what was it Greyback called it, Omega, or was it an effect that the Wolfbane Potion had? For it was much stronger and clearer than the effect is has on Remus Lupin. As you all are more than aware, the Potion causes the werewolf to keep their mental faculties, meaning that they have a sense of who they are. You, however, seemed to perfectly remember. As for this voice… it sounds like Greyback?"
Harry nodded.
"This is troubling," Dumbledore said. "I believe this might be residual from the night a month ago, traumatic experiences, and so, should fade in time. Meanwhile, Harry, I wish for you to come for walk with me."
"A walk?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "I think I might have told you before, but lately I've been having trouble keeping staff. It seems, for one reason or another, they all must leave for a different reason," Dumbledore spoke as though it was an amusing topic. "I am hoping to bring you along to help convince an old friend of mine to come out of retirement."
"Oh, okay," Harry said.
"Excellent, then let us away," Dumbledore said, "I'm afraid we will have to walk some distance before we can Apparate. Since you are still underage, you will be holding onto me." He stood up, "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, have a wonderful summer," he said, "Harry here will come back before long." He walked away, Harry following him.
The two left the Burrow, and Dumbledore led Harry through the garden until they passed the wooden gate and beyond the Burrow's property line. "Take my hand, but be careful," Dumbledore said, holding out his hand. Harry looked as he reached for it, and noticed that it looked different. It looked as though it had died. "Do not worry about that Harry," Dumbledore said, moving his sleeve to cover it. Harry grabbed Dumbledore' wrist, holding on as tightly as he could.
And they disappeared the next second.
Draco Malfoy was a vain teenager, a snooty Slytherin, and an overconfident gay. And why not? He was beautiful, and he knew it. His hair was a natural platinum blonde, his body was sleek and tight, a body that men would crave if Malfoy would ever embarrass himself to bottom. Not that he would ever, the teen was too arrogant and proud to do that. Instead, he liked when men bowed to him, worship him and his body. His dreams and fantasies are full of men older and younger succumbing to his will, even bloody Potter.
Oh yes, he had the perfect plans and fantasies that involved Potter, and he planned to get the annoying Gryffindor this year. However… none of his plans involved this.
He was in his home, of course he was, after the Dark Lord's resurrection, he has chosen Malfoy Manor has his headquarters. If Draco was honest with himself, that made him uncomfortable, it made his family uncomfortable. But now, Draco felt the most uncomfortable as he ever felt. His father was now in Azkaban, locked up for following the Dark Lord. And now, Draco found himself standing in front of the monster, yes, monster. Draco could not find any other way to describe him.
His body was skeletal, his fingers too long for any normal human being, the face was snake-like white and gaunt with scarlet, slit-pupiled eyes staring down at Draco Malfoy. However, they were not alone. There was one more person in the room. Draco only heard of him in passing, but still he could recognize the smell and look of Fenrir Greyback any day. He dressed in rags and smelt as though he wallowed in his own filth for years on end. Draco could not help but wonder if Greyback knew what a bath was.
"Draco."
The cold high voice of the Dark Lord brought Draco back to his attention. "Draco Malfoy, it is such a shame how much of a disappointment your father is," the Dark Lord said. "Not only was he not able to get me my prophecy, he also at every turn seemed to deny my existence before two years ago. Such incompetence and disloyalty will not be tolerated, Draco. He now sits in Azkaban, waiting for his merciful master to rescue him. Although, I think I will have him wait, wait in that cold prison and watch as his son takes up his father mantel. For I know that you will not be a disappointment like your father, will you, Draco?"
Draco paled, as his forehead suddenly became rather sweaty. "I..."
"After all," Voldemort continued, "Fenrir here has promised me that he will personally take care of those who disappoint me." Fenrir growled at Draco, his nose in the air as he gave a loud sniff. "I heard he had some experiments he need to test."
"Experiments?" Draco repeated, a hint of fear in his voice.
"Yes, experiments, terrible things from what I've heard," Voldemort said, "however you are a smart man, aren't you Draco? You know when it is time to listen, and when it is time to obey."
"Um yes," Draco said, glancing fearfully at Fenrir.
"Good… which is why, Draco, I have a task for you," Voldemort said. "You will kill Dumbledore. But before that," he looked to Fenrir. "Have your fun."
"What—no!" Draco yelled. Fenrir chuckled and stepped towards Draco. Draco stepped away, only to be hurt by a Cruciatus Curse from Voldemort. His screams filled the room as Greyback closed in on him.
"Such a disappointment Draco," Voldemort sighed, "I hoped that you were smarter." Draco screamed in intense pain and tried to fight Fenrir away. He kicked and punched, but the man was stronger than him, much stronger, and he grabbed Draco, lifting him and throwing him over his shoulder.
"You will come back when he is done with you," Voldemort said, "I will give you your marking in front of your fellow followers."
Greyback gave a barking laugh as he carried Draco out of the room.
"Let go of me you disgusting dog!" Draco yelled, struggling. Fenrir punched his face and growled, "Shut up, bitch."
Greyback brought Draco back to his bedroom and threw him onto his bed. Ropes appeared and tied Draco to it, restraining him. Draco started to shake, still struggling to free himself but his eyes staring scared at Greyback.
"Relax boy, I'm not going to bitch you, already got Potter for that," Fenrir chuckled. "Yeah, you know Potter," he said when Draco gave him a look of scared recognition. "Turned that boy into a new thing, a proper bitch. An Omega bitch who needs an Alpha's cock to fill him up. Although, I still need to turn into that, which is why I got you." He gave a dark chuckle and pulled out several vials from his tattered robe. "We're going to play a bit, Malfoy. I'm going to stick these into you, and you will be a good little boy and take them."
"What are they?" Draco asked, his voice betraying the brave face he was trying.
"Potions that'll change you," Greyback smirked. "Oh, don't give me that look Malfoy, I'm not going to change you into a werewolf now, the Dark Lord won't let me. But that still doesn't mean we get to play together." He approached Draco and grabbed his shirt, ripping it off and revealing his naked body. Fenrir took the first potion and forced it down Draco's throat as he rubbed a disgusting thick white salve on his chest.
Draco wept and struggled, but it was useless as potion after potion, Greyback poked and prodded his body, violating his dignity and privacy until, as the moon rose high above the mansion, Draco was completely naked, covered in a mess of potions and salves, and openly weeping. Fenrir watched with a sick fascination as Draco wept, before leaving him alone as his changes began.…