A Small Bite

Third-year II

Draco discovered that Hippogriffs didn't like werewolves.

He bowed in front of Buckbeak, but the animal attacked anyway.

Of course, nobody saw what actually happened, so everyone thought that the Slytherin insulted the beast and deserved the long gash he now had on his right arm.

The right side of his body wasn't really lucky, it seemed.

His leg healed perfectly fine, so he wasn't limping anymore. The only thing that showed what happened was the big, ugly scar on his skin.

That day, he was making his way towards his first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, with his arm bandaged and Gregory carrying both his and the blond's books.

When they entered the classroom the teacher wasn't there yet.

They took their seats - at the bottom of the class - and Draco started reading the book he borrowed from the library about werewolves.

They didn't have to wait long, as Professor Lupin arrived shortly after. The moment he opened the classroom door the strange smell from the train ride invaded his nose once again.

He had felt it every time he entered the Great Hall to eat. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was unnerving how he couldn't find anything about it.

Outside the room, Remus Lupin hoped this class would finally be the one where he would smell that scent again.

He had heard that werewolves could smell each other, even when the full moon wasn't near, but he never actually met one of his kind to recognize the scent.

The first time he smelled it, at the welcoming feast, he almost had a heart attack. He didn't know if he should be happy to finally meet another werewolf or sad that the person had to feel the same pain as he did every month.

It seemed he finally found the right class.

He scanned all the heads in the room until he saw platinum blond hair. He stared at those grey eyes a moment too long, before looking away. He expected a haunted look, but only found weariness.

The boy was just tired.

Maybe he was wrong? Maybe that smell didn't mean he would meet another werewolf?

He ignored those thoughts and started his lesson.

###

Draco was glad he didn't face the boggart. What would the class say if a big wolf with blood on his teeth - Draco's blood - appeared to be Draco Malfoy's boggart? It was already a miracle that Potter and Granger didn't start a rumour about him shaking like a leaf when not even near a Dementor, better not risk it.

He was leaving with his group of Slytherin friends when the Professor called him.

«Mr Malfoy, I would like to have a word with you»

Draco wasn't gonna lie, he was hoping for it to happen. He knew the smell was a werewolf thing, and if he didn't find out what it meant he would've gone mad.

He said to his friends, who were still suspicious since the train incident - Blaise even tried to look at his leg while he was sleeping! -, that he would catch up with them later and turned to his professor.

They waited for everyone to leave the classroom - Potter looked at them, debating what to do, then shrugged and followed the other Gryffindors - and Draco sat in the front seat.

Remus leaned with his back against the desk.

«What was it you wanted me for, professor?» asked Draco.