Beginning Note:

This is going to be my first real attempt at writing a multi-chapter fic, which also corresponds to my writing my very first creature... anything in the HP world. And as happens when I go to do anything, I do not do it half-arsed. So as such, I have my very own definition and classifications for the Fae, and have put my own spin upon them. Because of this, I will aid you along as I write. When a new Fae Race or Classification arises, I will leave an ending note giving you information regarding what it will mean in this alternate verse I have created.

I will update this fic at least once a week. I may at times update more frequently, but this is all dependent on what is going on in my life, and if my muses decide to cooperate with me.

Beta'd by Fiyerboq.

The title of this fic is taken from the song 'The Howling' by Within Temptation. It should do well in providing you with the tone this fic will take as it progresses.

I do not own anything regarding J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter universe. No profit is being made, and this is for fun only. All rights reserved to J.K. Rowling & Co.

It wasn't a still night, which was never a bad thing. At least, not one where Draco Lucius Malfoy was concerned. The slight breeze coming in off the water filled the suspended villa with the scent of the ocean and glorious fresh air. The heat of the sun was gone and a velvety darkness now blanketed the sky.

Heaven. This must be what Heaven looks like. Or, at least, that was what he thought. But then, this villa in the Maldives had always been, and would always be, Draco's very own safe haven. Now more so than ever before. Far away from England. Far away from the war and its insane Dark Lord taking over; ruining his family and his life. There were no grey clouds, dark skies, or tortured screams. Not that the nightmares were gone. But while he was here, awake, looking out over everything, he could pretend that they, as well, were far behind him.

There were familiar footsteps coming up behind him, yet still he tensed when his father's hand landed on his shoulder. Flinching only drew the rabid dogs that made up the Inner Circle closer, for it indicated fear. He could never show fear, just as he could never show any other emotion.

"Relax, son. Here, at least, you are safe."

Draco kept his eyes on the serene scene before him, though he did force his body to relax.

"But mother is not. Mother is dead; killed because I failed." The anger and the regret... sadness, they were too strong to keep from deepening his voice more than the onset of puberty already had.

"Your mother was not weak or unintelligent. She knew what was coming and sacrificed herself willingly." Lucius' hand tightened on his son's shoulder, an offer of comfort that Draco rejected with a shrug of his shoulder. "Thanks to her sacrifice, I still live so that I may be certain you survive."

"Do you think that makes me feel any better?" He turned and leveled a hard stare at his father. "My mother is dead because I failed. Because I am weak."

"No, it is not weakness. The family kills only when it is worthy. This cause? It is no longer worthy."

"And ensuring the safety of my family isn't a worthy cause?!" Lucius was silent then, bowing his head. Draco raised his chin. He knew his father would have nothing to say to that, for Malfoys were raised to put family before everything... and Draco had failed this duty in knowing that if he did not kill, then his family would suffer death.

Silently standing, they faced each other like two sides of a coin. Younger, older; almost the perfect copy. Almost. Where Lucius bore a strong build with broad shoulders, Draco kept slender. Lanky almost, but with much more grace of form, drawing near androgynous. Then there was the touch of gold to his hair, differing from the white platinum blond of his father. But it was so slight, it was hardly noted.

"Eh, Excuse me, Master Malfoy, young Master Draco. It's, it's almost time..." They both turned to look at the small house elf shifting her feet and ducking her head, afraid of punishment for interrupting. It made Draco sick. The house elves only began acting like this after the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord had come into residence.

Lucius was the one to speak. "Thank you, Daisy. You may go, but stay in the villa in case you are needed."

Turning away, Draco left the deck and moved into the sprawling villa. It was a familiar vacationing spot for the family, built upon land that had long been in their family, even back when the Malfoys had been French nobles playing Court as the Malfoi family. Ever since he was first taken there as a toddler, back in a time he couldn't even really remember, he had claimed this place as his favorite. His 'castle'. He had always loved being near the water, which was why he had chosen the room right off the deck to be his own, just to be close even as he slept.

Entering it now, he knew his father was still with him; had followed after him. Draco ignored his presence and went about as if preparing for sleep. Off came the thin cotton robe, leaving him in a pair of drawstring pants, hanging off of angular hips. A hand rose and fingers slid through golden locks of hair that went down to his ears only at the sides, nothing nearly as outrageous as his father's long hair.

"It's not going to happen," he said as he moved to the platform bed draped in midnight blue sheets that matched the night sky. "The Fae blood is too far gone. It has been generations since more than one child has been born into our family. It won't activate."

"We will see."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the time struck right. It was perfectly timed, seventeen years after Draco came into the world he fell onto his bed clutching at himself, jaw clenched as he stifled cries of pain. Lucius stood in the doorway, transfixed. All his prayers were coming to fruition right before his eyes.

It was only a short time until white light surrounded Draco's body and by the time it faded, tears were silently sliding down Lucius' cheeks. Silently, he moved to the bedside and looked down at his son, forever changed; he admired the Fae beauty his son now possessed. Then, he did something he hadn't done since Draco was a toddler, he drew up the covers and tucked in his son who now rested in the magically induced coma that would allow his body to recover from the change.

"Happy birthday, my son." At least Draco would be saved from this world.

Notes:

Here are some fun facts!

House Elves are the descendants of Brownies who were left behind (oh noes!) and were lured into magically binding contracts that leave them in virtual slavery to Witches and Wizards. Just a little tidbit, you'll learn more about this... eventually. ;)

Werewolves and Vampires are not considered Fae. They are, in this verse, creatures created by Dark Magic, and not naturally occurring.