FAILSAFE

Chapter Eight

Who.

The word reverberated through Draco's mind, sending shivers down his spine. It couldn't be true, could it? He watched as Harry's lips moved, forming words that were drowned out by the pounding of his own blood in his ears. He desperately tried to steady himself, to find his centre amidst the chaos swirling around him. This couldn't be happening.

He had always been aware of the rumours and whispers that floated through the Hogwarts corridors. He had disregarded the tales of a Professor who was a werewolf. Professor Lupin was never someone he associated with or bothered to get to know. Draco's previous interactions with werewolves had been at the hands of Greyback, the memories echoed in his mind, and a surge of sickness coursed through his veins.

Darkness and the macabre had always fascinated his aunt Bellatrix. She believed that exposing Draco to the grotesque acts of a depraved man like Greyback would somehow serve as a twisted learning experience. Draco could still remember the times she had forced him to watch, his stomach churning with disgust as he observed the man's brutal ways. Even in his human form, the werewolf exuded a lethal aura that made Draco's skin crawl.

But it was during the full moon that Greyback truly unleashed his savagery. Draco couldn't fathom the depths of the horrors that awaited those unfortunate enough to cross paths with the werewolf on such nights. The image of him transformed into his beastly form—consumed by a feral hunger—sent to attack unexpected blood traitors haunted his thoughts.

As the realisation sank in, Draco took a deep breath, attempting to regain control over his racing thoughts, and quell the unease gnawing at his insides.

Draco's patience wore thin as Harry's chuckles filled the air once again. If he heard that sound once more, Draco swore he would unleash his frustrations upon the bespectacled boy in front of him. His eyes flickered with annoyance, darting between the mangled dog before him and Harry, who continued to retreat cautiously from the cave's entrance.

"So, was it fact or just another one of your heroic tales that you survived an attack by a werewolf?" Draco couldn't help but ask, his voice laced with scepticism.

A chuckle escaped Harry's lips, his laughter dancing upon the tense air between them. Draco's patience wore thin as he resisted the urge to lunge at his rival.

"Maybe a little of both?" Harry huffed. "I mean, it took Hermione, a time-turner, and a dog who was eyeing me like his next meal. Surprisingly, Professor Snape played a role as well." The mention of his godfather's name brought a shift in expression to Harry's face, one that Draco couldn't quite decipher.

Severus's involvement caught Draco off guard. How was it possible that he had never known about this before? His mind raced with questions. Why had Snape, a figure shrouded in darkness and mystery, played a part in Harry's encounter with a werewolf?

"What?" Draco blurted out, his voice revealing his surprise. "Snape? Why didn't I know about this?" His words spilt out without a filter, laced with a mixture of surprise and frustration.

Harry's response came swiftly, his tone edged with irritation. "You realise you say that a lot," he retorted, brushing off Draco's astonishment as if it were an inconvenience. The question hung in the air, unanswered, leaving Draco to grapple with the unsettling realisation that countless secrets were lurking beneath the surface, waiting to be unravelled.

"As I was saying," Harry began, his words interrupted by Draco's sudden outburst, "I have no pointers to help here. We are going to have to rely- "

"Don't you dare say luck, Potter, or I swear I will curse you," Draco snapped back, his patience wearing thin.