This fic was born from a drabble I wrote for Organized Chaos. I decided to turn it into a fic on the request of my dear writer friend, xxDustNight88.

IMPORTANT: This is a supernatural Dramione AU that takes place during a 7th year redo storyline and the werewolves in this fic are not the ones of Potterverse. They can change into full blown wolves and have pack dynamics. I have taken liberties and elements from shows such as Teen Wolf, Bitten, and Blood and Chocolate to create the werewolf recipe in this fic.

The blame, Draco would later muse, fell on Theo's shoulders. If it hadn't been for his insistence that they sneak out and throw what the muggles called a "kegger", none of them would have been in the forest that fateful night. Greg wouldn't have challenged him to a drinking match and he wouldn't have been so completely gone that he lost all common sense. He wouldn't have ventured off all alone, leaving the safety of his circle of friends in search of a private place to take a piss. He would never have gotten turned around in the thick trees, alone and wandless. He would never have been there, so he never would have been bitten.

But that was exactly what happened. Theo had insisted and that was why he now had the urge to howl at the moon.

October 9, 1998

"Fucking Nott," Draco cursed, stumbling over an upturned root and dropping his wand in the process. He sunk to his hands and knees and felt along the ground, not thinking clearly enough to summon it. He was still trying -and failing- to find it when twigs snapped in the darkness behind him. "Oh, good." He called, standing up and turning around. "Help me, would you?"

Instead of the hearty laugh of Theo, or the aggravated yet adoring huff of Blaise, he was met with an inhuman growl. His heart stopped in his chest and he broke out in a cold sweat. There were so many different beasts and creatures in these woods. He should have fucking known better. Red eyes gleamed in the shadows and tracked his movements as he backed away slowly.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Another growl rumbled in the creature's chest as it stepped towards him, moonlight finally exposing an angry black muzzle dripping with blood and frothy drool. As he stared at what he now knew was a wolf, all he could think about was that this was how he was going to die. He could just see his headstone now: Here Lies Draco Malfoy, beloved son, torn apart by a giant black wolf in the middle of the Forbidden Forest while his housemates partied less than a mile away.

The wolf stalked forward and Draco lost all his senses. He turned and ran blindly towards what he hoped would be safety. He didn't get far. His coordination was off and the wolf was fast. Even if he'd had all his faculties he wouldn't have been able to outrun the blasted thing. Maybe if he'd had his wand still he would have had a chance but he'd dropped it. So, it really didn't surprise him when he was knocked to the cold hard ground by a pair of massive paws, claws slicing through his shirt in the process. His breath was pushed out of his lungs at the impact and tears pricked his eyes as he tried to scramble away from it, but it was futile. He couldn't budge. He was pinned and all he could do was lay there under the weight of the wolf as its sharp teeth sunk into his hip, ripping into the flesh like it ripped a scream from his throat.

The pain was like nothing he'd felt before. It was acute and it burned, setting his blood on fire as strong jaws clamped down on him. He knew he was still screaming. He could feel the vibrations of it in his chest and in his esophagus. He could hear the shrill sound of it as it echoed through the trees.

Oh, Circe, he thought, just let it rip my throat out. He didn't know if he could handle dying slowly, being eaten alive like this, it was just too much.

Then, just when he was giving up hope and accepting his fate, the wolf released him from its hold, tongue lapping at the wound before it backed away. Draco sucked in a lungful of air and shuffled around, twisting and landing on his arse, eyes focusing on the beast as it paced around him. It looked almost remorseful, if that was even possible, as it stood there, giving him one more lingering look before running off in the direction it had come. He kept himself still, peering into the darkness and waiting for it to reemerge and finish him off but minutes passed and there was no sign of it.

When he finally decided it wasn't coming back, he let himself drop back to the ground, panting and fighting the tears that were threatening to fall onto his cheeks. He wiped them away and just laid there for what seemed like forever, but it couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes before he managed to sit up, lifting his shirt to assess the damage. He felt ill as he stared at the bite. It was still bleeding pretty heavily but he didn't think he was in any danger of bleeding to death. He took a few deep breaths and stood up slowly, taking in the situation and calming himself down. He was dizzy, weak, and a bit shaken but he knew what he needed to do. He needed to get the hell out of there and he needed his bloody wand.

"Accio wand," he shouted, pushing all his magic into the words. A second later the slender wood was in his hand and he sighed in relief. He cast a quick cleaning and healing spell before finding his way back to his friends. If any of them noticed his torn shirt and forlorn expression, they hadn't said a word. None of them asked where he'd been, or what had taken him so long and he sure as hell didn't tell them. They didn't need to know the extent of his stupidity.

The attack, he decided, would be his dirty little secret.

One of many he'd learn to keep.

Thanks goes to my beta, TheLittleSwan for her wonderful help.