Chapter 8-Lycanthropy

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February

Almost a month after Astoria fell into her coma, I was finally able to administer the medicine I custom-made to combat her blood curse. There were dozens of ingredients in the potion, but the main ones were white ivy, eagle's blood, and powdered rubies. The ingredients were very rare, and very expensive, but luckily Draco had no shortage of money. It required a brewing period of five days. The finished product was a magenta potion that was thick like a fruit smoothie. It looked beautiful, but smelled awful.

"When will we know if it's working?" Draco demanded in the hallway outside of Astoria's bedroom. It was incredibly early in France, and the sun wasn't out yet, so the corridor was dark.

"Look, Draco, healing takes time," I said to him. "I slaved over this potion. I did the best I could- but there's no cure for her blood curse. You know this."

"Yes, I'm aware. I'm also the one who paid for the potion ingredients, and I expect to see results." He paused. "Rubies," he said with distaste, "What on earth were the rubies for?"

"Oh, those were for me," I said sarcastically. Draco looked absolutely horrified. "I'm kidding," I emphasized. "Merlin's beard, where did your sense of humor go?"

Draco looked down the bridge of his nose at me, peeved at my joke. "Can't recall ever having one."

"Oh, come on. I know that's not true," I said. "You used to laugh with Vincent and Gregory all the time at Hogwarts. And sometimes, you and I-" I stopped, realizing that Draco was giving me a strange look. "Um. Sorry. I needed the rubies because they enhance the mineral potency."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "That's reasonable, then. If you have nothing else to report, you may leave." He summoned the usual pouch of money, and began to walk away.

I grabbed the money from where it hung in the air before me. "I should inform you I won't be coming on Tuesday."

Draco stopped walking. Slowly, he turned. I could just barely make out his frown in the dim light. "Why?" he asked.

"It's the full moon. I'm a Dark Magic Healer. Injured werewolves are my specialty."

Draco scoffed like I had just told a joke.

"What?" I demanded.

"You heal injured werewolves?" he echoed with amusement. "Those creatures are not deserving of healing."

That made my blood boil. It was much too early in the morning to be shouting, but I found myself raising my voice at Draco in his hallway.

"What would you know about werewolves?" I snapped. "They are wizards, too. They are as much deserving of healing as your wife is."

Draco's amusement fizzled. He stepped towards me, saying, "They're scum, Erica. They're a menace to society, and kill dozens of civilians. They don't deserve to live."

My finger poked Draco accusingly in the chest. "Who made you the authority on who gets to live and die?"

Draco glared down at me. "The French Ministry of Magic," he replied flatly. He adjusted his tie, which I had pushed out of place. "I'm a Dark Creature Hunter. It is literally my job to kill werewolves."

I had wondered before what Draco's occupation was, or if he even had one. I suppose I assumed he just lived off of his family's wealth. But there were times when he looked like he was dressed to go out somewhere. I never thought to ask where he was going. It was strange to think about how little I knew about him now, when I used to know everything about him.

"Oh, of course," I growled. I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might pop out of my head. "People like you are the reason why there's still a stigma around werewolves, and why they can't live in peace like the rest of us."

Draco turned up his nose at me. "If you think werewolves can coexist with us, you clearly didn't study your Defense Against the Dark Arts thoroughly enough."

"I see werewolves at my job every day," I said, infuriated, "They don't want to be beasts, but they don't have a choice. The rest of the world is too scared to put any money towards finding a cure. They would rather look the other way so people like you can murder them. I bet you've never even had a conversation with a werewolf."

"I suppose you think you know better than me because you feel sorry for those creatures."

"No, I know better than you because I'm married to one!"

I didn't think Draco's cool anger could get any scarier, but somehow, it reached new levels of terrifying. He peered down at me with wide, grey eyes that suggested more than disbelief- in his eyes, I could see something that almost looked like fear.

In a voice that was eerily calm, Draco asked, "You're married to a werewolf?"

I suddenly found myself with a sickening feeling of deja-vu. It was like I was back in the Room of Requirement, the day I told Draco that my father was a Squib. I used to want Draco's approval so badly. And that look in his eyes right now- it was an echo of the same betrayed look he had back then.

I swallowed hard. "Yes." I affirmed. "My husband is a werewolf."

Draco pressed a hand to the side of his face. "Oh, Merlin." His lip curled, creating a snarl that I was all too familiar with. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? They may transform once a month, but a wolf lives inside of them at all times. You- you could be killed in your own home."

I was rattled by Draco's display of concern. I wanted to tell him that Len would never hurt me. But instead I grumbled, "Please, stop acting like you care and keep your opinion to yourself."

For a split second, I got the satisfaction of seeing Draco look genuinely surprised. But then I blinked, and it was back to his stone-faced alter ego.

"Your work is done for the day, so you may leave. I expect your return after the full moon." With that, Draco smoothly walked past me towards the west wing of the Chateau.

I was a little surprised that Draco didn't fire me just then for being openly argumentative. But then I realized, he couldn't fire me. Astoria's care was too important to him. Which meant I had immunity to say whatever I want.

"They're misunderstood," I called down at the hall at Draco. "You of all people should know what that's like."

Draco stopped. I thought I saw his head slightly turn, but then he kept walking, without deigning to reply to me. 

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