Title: These Broken Moons

Summary: After Lucius' horrible mistake in The Department of Mysteries, The Dark Lord demands too much of the Malfoys. They turn traitor against him, however, Voldemort sends Fenrir Greyback after them and Draco Malfoy, pure blood wonder and pride of his family is bitten and turned into a werewolf at the age of 16. Now, they have nowhere to turn to but his nemesis and enemies. Strange that Harry Potter, pride and joy of the Order of the Phoenix is nothing like the Golden Hero advertised.

Warnings: Slash, meaning boyXboy. There is violence and cursing. There will also be child abuse, psychological abuse, and sexual abuse. Non-con/Rape and implied torture described in some detail throughout memories and dialogue. This story is rated mature.

Author's Note: In this story, Harry is very OOC, dark, and depressed. This story starts in 6th year. Lucius and Severus are not a side pairing. Yes, Harry and Draco are the main pairing, but there will still be lots of time between Lucius and Severus. The flashbacks are intense, if you are triggered by sexual, child, psychological abuse be wary of the marked chapters. Also, the romance is definitely there, but it's slow moving. Everyone dealing with a lot of issues they need to work through. Includes a now complete sequel titled These Blooming Hearts.

Disclaimer: I am writing this for fun and not profit. I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters therein.

Chapter 1- Disaster Struck

"Yes, of course, Mother," Draco answered, bowing slightly to his mother. She nodded before turning back to the mess of clothes and papers strewn in front of her. Draco stepped away, he knew better than to interrupt after she had dismissed him like that. He stepped out of his mother's study and headed down the hall toward his room, hoping he made it before-

"Draco," his father's voice sounded behind him. Draco immediately stopped, restraining the urge to bite his lip. He knew once he started there would be blood and his parents hated when he drew blood with his nervous habits. Blood was much too precious to be wasted on such idle things.

"Yes, father?" Draco turned, facing his father with the expected blank expression. He tried to ignore the lines on his father's face, but he knew he didn't succeed. They marked his father, the same way The Dark Mark on his arm marked him. He had gotten out of Azkaban on a technicality, mostly because Potter had seemed unwilling to show up and really identify Draco's father as being at the ministry. The Dark Lord, however, had not been so forgiving. He had punished Lucius for failing him with all the creative torture skills he had at his disposal.

"What did your mother wish of you?" his father asked, and Draco resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. He would never understand why his parents had to communicate through him as if they weren't a married couple.

"She-," he started when suddenly his father hissed, clutching his arm in pain. "Father?"

"The Dark Lord is almost here," he answered, straightening his shoulders. "We must hurry."

"But-."

"Go, Draco."

"Lucius?" his mother poked her head out of her study, fixing her pale eyes on them. "What's going on?"

"Narcissa," Lucius nodded to her. "The Dark Lord is near. You and Draco must leave immediately," Narcissa opened her mouth, but Lucius was already talking again, "I will sort out the rest of our affairs."

"Father," Draco stepped forward, but his father simply held up a hand, and he immediately fell silent.

"Come, Draco," Narcissa snatched Draco by the arm and dragged him down hall, refusing to look back at his father. Draco closed his eyes as he stumbled after her. He knew he couldn't disobey a direct order from his father, but it simply felt wrong to just leave him there for The Dark Lord to come and snatch up.

They reached the front door a second before it exploded open, and something slammed into Draco, ripping him away from his mother and sending him slamming into the ground. His vision blurred, his ears were ringing, and something hot and wet was ripping into his throat. The mind-numbing pain began a second later. So intense Draco almost passed out from the burning stinging horrible feeling of being ripped apart by the throat.

He flinched when a scream broke through the ringing in his ears. It took him a second to realize it was his own. His voice was hoarse as the sound burned its way out of his torn windpipe. He tried to peel his eyes open to find out what was happening to him. What was opening his throat and letting blood run down his chest and onto the ground under him?

"NOOOO!" He heard a strangled yell behind him and suddenly the weight he hadn't even realized was there was wrenched off. Draco gasped, feeling the blood bubble up and then back down, clogging his throat and making it near impossible to breathe.

The last thought Draco had before passing out was that he hoped his father would come soon, because Narcissa had never been good at healing charms.

Harry Potter just so happened to be in Dumbledore's office when Lucius Malfoy came stumbling in carrying an unconscious and half-dead Draco Malfoy. Dumbledore only ever left him at the Dursley's as long as utterly necessary for the blood protection to work.

Harry supposed that Dumbledore was afraid he'd curse them, and he probably would at that. Dumbledore also refused to allow him to stay with the Weasley's, claiming that Harry needed all the studying he could get. Though why he thought Harry gave two cents what Dumbledore thought of his education, he had no idea.

So, Dumbledore had him in his office, trying desperately to get him to care about whatever nonsense he was talking about now while Harry twirled his wand between his fingers. He had one leg swung over the arm of Dumbledore's chair, swinging back and forth while the other was planted solidly on the ground to keep him from falling over.

Then the floo suddenly flared and Lucius Malfoy stepped through, cradling his son in his arms. Draco was pale to the point of looking dead with his throat a bloody mess. Harry raised an eyebrow at them, momentarily interested before Lucius turned to Dumbledore with a slightly desperate air that was entirely too predictable. And Harry sighed, going back to twirling his wand between his fingers.

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore stood abruptly, his eyes widening with a combination of surprise and horror on his face. And sure, Harry would have stood, he would have cooed over the poor broken Malfoys if he didn't suspect that Dumbledore was about to do a good enough job without him.

"My wife is dead, Dumbledore," Lucius said, his voice clear, free of emotion. Harry looked up, his attention caught. Not by the words but the way they were spoken. He smirked, not the usual way one reacted to one's wife dying. "And my son has been bitten by Fenrir Greyback."

"I see." Dumbledore answered. "Harry, go fetch Professor Snape while we take Draco to the medical wing."

"Must I?"

"Yes," Dumbledore ground out and Harry could tell his patience was wearing thin. Harry sighed again, climbing to his feet in a gracefully motion before crossing to the door. "Please hurry, Harry," Dumbledore called. Harry scowled but made no other reply as he retreated from the room.

He headed down to the dungeon about as quickly as his pride allowed. Mostly, he hurried because he knew Severus would have his arse if he slowed enough that Draco Malfoy actually died. For, Severus cared about the Malfoy's even if Harry didn't.

"Severus?" Harry called, shoving the door open without bothering to knock. It was empty, making Harry narrow his eyes at the room. Severus wasn't actually out, was he?

"What is it, Potter?" Severus voice rose from his back room a second before he did. Harry's face promptly smoothed as the disgruntled Professor moved to stand in front of him, looking impatient. He must have been brewing something; Severus smelled of dirt and roots, his hair full of oddly smelling smoke.

"Dumbledore wants you."

"For what purpose?"

"Draco Malfoy is dying of a werewolf bite in the infirmary." Harry told him casually, and Severus's eyes bulged as only his could, cold steely anger flashing in them.

"You little…" Severus took a step forward and Harry flinched on impulse, his body expecting a hit that his mind consciously knew wasn't coming. Severus immediately relaxed his aggressive position, sighing and rubbing his face before barking out another order. "Grab my bag," he ordered, sweeping out of the room. Harry ran into Severus's office, scooped up his bag of healing potions, and chased after the Professor.

He was already around the corner and halfway down the next hall by the time Harry caught up to him. Severus didn't even slow down his pace, just flicked his eyes and continued his long-legged walk. Harry felt his muscles unconsciously relax, so Severus wasn't going to say anything then. That was always better than when they tried to talk, which invariably ended in screaming, throwing things, and finally tears. Harry hated it when that happened. He hated it when his emotions took over and it was really just best for everyone to avoid that as much as possible. They reached the infirmary faster than Harry reached anything when he wasn't with Severus. He stormed in, flapping his robes and stooping over Draco's bed to examine him.

"Potter, cast a cleansing spell." Severus snapped, gesturing to Harry before turning to his bag and pulling out a couple of potions. Harry bent over Draco, examining the wound as he cast his cleansing spell with a quick flick of his wrist. Then he stepped to the side and let Severus begin his work. When it was clear the Professor was immersed in his work of potions and healing, Harry stepped out of the room. He closed the doors to the infirmary softly before allowing his feet to take him to one of only places he felt truly safe.

It took Severus hours to return to his own chambers, covered in sweat with exhausted lines around his eyes. Harry was perched on his couch, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms tight around his torso, ready for the scolding to begin.

"So, I take it he'll live?"

"No thanks to you." Severus answered, dropping his potions bag onto the floor couch and beginning to unbutton his outer robes. "I could have used your help. Why did you leave?" Harry turned his face away instead of answering, barely concealing the annoyed twist of his lips. He'd of thought Severus was smarter than to ask questions to which he already knew the answer to. "Harry," Severus said, his voice dragging Harry's eyes back up to his face. "Draco doesn't deserve your scorn."

"Really? And why not? What has he ever done for me? Mounted on his pureblood perch with his perfect pureblood family?" Severus just sat himself down beside Harry with a sigh.

"You can't hate the world."

"And why not? You do."

"And I'm so happy with my life," Snape answered, and it was Harry's turn to sigh because he really didn't have an answer to that.

Please read the warnings at the top of what this story will include. Please don't flame me, especially anonymously, just because you don't like it.

I hope you keep reading and enjoying! :)