Our Choices

Many thanks to my new beta Pol.

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Two Years Later

Harry Potter stood and let his eyes travel around the large conference room. No less than seventy-five aurors looked back at him, anxiously awaiting orders. He was there to lead yet another 'wolfraid', as he liked to call them. It was the forth in the past year.

The werewolf packs had been growing increasingly bolder. Turnings and killings skyrocketed. St. Mungo's was packed full of terrorized victims. The Obliviators were still trying to clean up the mess resulting from an open attack on a muggle neighborhood that happened months ago.

The worst, though, were the children. They were being snatched right out from under their parents noses. Some simply disappeared with only small traces of evidence assuring everyone that they were still alive. Others, the ones found not fit enough to join a pack were returned home. Their mutilated, half-eaten corpses were left on their parents doorstep. It was a low hit, even for werewolves.

So, here he was yet again, preparing to prep the men and women before him. While he wasn't an auror, nor had any occupational ties to the Ministry, he always led the raids when Death Eater's were involved. He and Rufus Scrimgeour sat down a little over two years ago and decided it was best that Harry take charge of matters where Voldemort was concerned. Hard times had led the two men to end their differences and put their heads together. Harry agreed to be seen supporting the Ministry every now and then and Scrimgeour agreed to find actual proof of guilt before sentencing could-be-innocents to Azkaban. It worked well for the both of them.

Harry drew his attention back to the task at hand and cleared his throat.

"Alright, everyone, our last raid was a catastrophe. More than half of Ridgewaters' pack slipped through our fingers. I don't want that happening tonight. We've spent the past four weeks training so I expect to see some of it's payed off."

Harry walked over to the large flat screen that centered the wall in the front of the conference room. With a wave of his hand it revealed a colorful map with small dots of color here and there.

"This is the small patch of forest our targets have thrown up camp. I want you each to take a good look at it before we leave. I want a perimeter set up around it so none of the werewolves have a chance to escape again."

He turned back to the group and eyed them critically. "You all know the game plan we've set up so I won't go into detail again. I do, however, want to give you all a warning before we go.

We have a small advantage over them with the full moons passing last night. They will be weakened from the change making it easy for us to take down. However, more than half of them are wizards and while they'll be sluggish physically, mentally they'll be the sharpest."

He paused and gave them all a hard look. "I want you all to guard your backs. Do NOT underestimate them. Show no mercy because they wouldn't show any for you."

"Now, one last thing," he said while crossing his arms. "We received a tip that Fenrir Greyback is among them for a short while. I don't know how reliable our tipper is but I want you all to keep an eye out. If you spot him, make him your first priority. Are there any questions?"

When no one spoke up he nodded. "Ok. Take a look at the map. Memorize it. We leave in one hour."

***

The sob that Draco had been working so hard to suppress worked it's way out as the large man above him pulled the softening member from his bruised and battered body. He could feel the blood and semen that followed in it's wake traveling down his leg to drip onto the dirty mound of rags that made up his and Greybacks bed. The first few months, after he had come to be with Greyback, the stench of those rags would send his stomach lurching. Now, after all the time he'd spent with the werewolf, he figured nothing could make him nauseous, anymore. The things he'd seen and been made to do had given him a stomach made of iron.

A rough, calloused finger ran up his trembling thigh to catch the mixed fluids and Draco instinctively flinched away. The small tent that followed them from campsite to campsite was filled with a low rumbling laugh.

"Get some sleep, whelp. I'll be back in a few hours," said Greyback in his usual raspy voice.

Draco didn't turn to look at the man but nodded his head weakly. The sifting of their makeshift bed gave him enough time to tense before he was roughly turned onto his back to face the quick tempered man. Draco kept his eyes lowered submissively as he'd learned to do from the beginning and winced when a large hand grasped his jaw painfully. The long jagged nails dug into his tender flesh and he let a small whimper pass his lips.

Greybacks rotten breath brushed over his face when he spoke. "You've been very good lately, whelp. Don't ruin your streak by showing me disrespect now."

Draco's body shook violently at the hint of warning in Greybacks voice. He quickly brought forth the litany he'd grown used to and prayed it would be enough to quell the werewolfs' growing anger. "I'm sorry, Master. Please forgive me. I won't do it again, Master."

Years ago, Draco would have been mortified to hear his voice quiver and break as it did now. The words that he spoke so freely would have never been uttered. It took Draco quiet a few brutal punishments to realize that those few words added with the proper amount of fear could get him out of trouble better than anything else.

As he had hoped, the hand on his jaw softened and moved to brush along his cheek. "I'll let it pass this time since it's your first mistake in a while."

Whiskers scraped against his skin as Greyback leaned in and licked the side of his face. Draco stiffened. He silently begged for Greyback to leave. He wasn't ready to be taken again. The days just before and after the fullmoon were always the hardest. Before the turning Greybacks animal instincts were the strongest. During that time Draco was seen as a mate. His body was a constant throb and he barely got to sleep in between the agonizing mating sessions.

After the turning he was exhausted and sore but that didn't stop Greyback from taking Draco as often as he liked. As long as it wasn't life threatening the werewolf saw no reason not to continue getting his pleasure from his beautiful toy.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut when a hand brushed down his chest and stomach to fondle his lifeless member. A shudder spread through him and Greyback chuckled.

"Don't worry, pet. I'll let you rest for now." Draco felt the large man move away and sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Master," he whispered gratefully.

He listened as Greyback put his clothes back on and wished that he would move faster. Draco wanted to be alone. He wanted sleep, not just because he was tired but because it was the only time he could escape the nightmare that was his life.

"You've been good so I'll bring you something to eat when I get back."

Greyback had already left the tent by the time Draco whispered his thanks. He struggled to turn himself onto his stomach and reached down to pull the thin tattered blanket up over his body and head. Once he covered himself, not letting a hair or toe peek out, he burrowed deeper into the filthy rags beneath him seeking out what little warmth they held.

As Draco drifted off to sleep he wished desperately that Greyback would take a little longer than usual before returning. He wanted to spend a bit more time with his happy dreams before he had to come back to his reality.

***

Harry stood in the center of the small campsite and smiled happily. One by one he watched as the aurors popped away with two to three prisoners in tow. The raid had gone smother than he thought it would. As far he could tell none of the werewolves had gotten away. Just to be sure, though, he sent out a team to search the grounds. They'd had a few injuries but none that were fatal. They had even been able to take down the werewolves without any killing. Harry was very pleased with the work they'd done tonight.

All he had left to do now, was wait for his search party to get back, send them home and give his report to the clean up crew when they arrived. Then he would go home, take a long hot shower and fall into bed to get his well earned sleep. He promised himself that tomorrow he wouldn't step one foot into his study. He'd spend the day relaxing in front of the television or lay about with a good book. Maybe even glamour himself and go catch a movie. A day just for him.

He was interrupted from his pleasant thoughts as Johnson, a member of the search party came running up with a frantic look on his face. When the man stopped in front of him panting to catch his breath Harry had a gut feeling that he wasn't going to get his relaxing day tomorrow.

"Potter, we found a tent just outside the campsite. It's heavily warded. It threw Bargens back a good ten feet when he tried to enter it."

Harry frowned. "Is it occupied?"

Johnson shook his head. "We can't tell. There's no light inside and Mclean detected a silencing charm."

"Why didn't she check for spells before Bargens tried to go in?" He asked impatiently. These people were supposed to be the best and brightest of the Auror Division. So far he'd seen at least one show of stupidity on each raid they'd gone on. He sighed. It looked like he'd have to send them back for more training. He'd get them perfect sooner or later.

Johnson had the decency to look ashamed. "We didn't think a werewolf would use them."

"And that just proves that none of you were listening to me in the meeting. Was Bargens hurt?"

"No, just a little shocked from the throw."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "He was lucky. It could have been a hexing ward. Next time use your damn heads," he spat. "Now show me this tent."

Harry walked briskly behind Johnson. When they came up on the tipi style tent he gave each Auror around it a heated glare. Harry was glad to see them all drop their heads in shame. At least they knew they'd screwed up.

He turned to Mclean. "What are we dealing with here?" He asked.

She looked up at him and gave a weak smile. "So far just a simple silencing spell and a ward. I don't understand the warding system at all. It's complex in it's coding. We thought maybe you could get it down."

Harry nodded. He pulled his wand and pointed it at the tent. After a few minutes he frowned and put it away. Looking to Bargens he asked, "How far did you get before it tossed you?"

"I'd just touched the flap there." He pointed to the slit in the fabric that made an entrance.

Harry slowly inched forward with his hand held out in front of him. He came to a stop just before his fingers made contact and closed his eyes. He let himself feel the wards design and gave a small sound of confusion. Amy was right, it was an odd system. Someone apparently didn't want just anyone going in there.

He pulled his hand back and turned to give his team of Aurors a grim smile. "Well people, prepare yourselves for a long night."

He plopped himself down on the ground and got ready for a few hours of decoding. Without looking up he asked, "Who wants to go get us some coffee?"

***

The sun was just rising when they finally disabled the wards. They were all tired, cranky and on edge. Harry had sent home three of the Aurors when a rather loud argument broke out. That left him with just Mclean, Johnson and Bargens. They were the only three that seemed to work well together. Harry made a mental note to pair them up more often.

He stood and stretched his aching muscles before turning to give his team a smile. They all smiled at him in return.

"You guys ready to see what this things hiding?"

"Shouldn't we remove the silencing spell?" Amy asked doubtfully.

Harry looked at the tent and shrugged. "I don't see why. If anyone is in there then it's obviously a two way because there was no sign of movement. They probably slept through all our work. No need to alert them now."

Harry chuckled. "With our luck, though, it's probably empty and we did all this for nothing."

They all groaned and Bargens gave Harry a pleading look. "Don't jinx us, Potter."

Harry sighed and pulled his wand out. "Alright. Wands out everyone."

Harry walked slowly to the entrance and took a deep breath before pulling it apart. He turned to the others and gave them a silent command to keep quiet and follow him.

Upon the first look inside the tent, Harry didn't notice anything off. There was a small rucksack to his left that had a few loose parchments sticking out and a large pile of dingy rags to his right. The smell of the tent was putrid. He noticed a small bucket next to the mound of cloth and decided that, while it probably gave off a bit of the smell, it wasn't the main source. The stale air smelled of blood, sweat and shit. Other than his team, there was no sign if life.

Just as he was about to let his guard down, his eyes caught an off color peeking out from beneath the pile of cloth and took a closer look.

A toe. So, there was someone here after all.

Harry motioned for the others behind him to be ready and quietly approached the mound. He reached out and grabbed of a corner on the torn and worn blanket. He counted to three silently then pulled the blanket up, took aim with his wand and... stopped.

The man before him was still and if it weren't for the shallow, even breathing, Harry would have assumed him dead. He took in the thin frame and suddenly felt very sick. The body was covered in angry looking bruises and scars. Some looked recent while others were in the healing process. The worst of the bruising covered the thighs and buttocks. There was a small amount of dried blood that trailed between the rounded globes to disappear between too-thin legs.

What caught Harry's attention more, however, was the hair. He realized, with a pang in his chest, that he knew that hair. It was longer than the last time he'd seen it. It was tangled and greasy but still had the white blonde shine to it.

"All of you leave. Now." He continued to stare at the broken body before him as he directed his team.

He felt Johnson step closer behind him. "Potter, I think-"

Harry turned and everyone took a step back from the intense glow in his green eyes. "It wasn't a request. It's an order. Go stand guard outside."

Once they had all shuffled out, Harry dropped to his knee's next to Malfoy's motionless form. He could feel the guilt bubbling inside of him but refused to acknowledge it. He had given the idiot a choice after all. And this is what he had chosen. Granted, Malfoy had said that he hadn't any time to wait. But then again, he could have just run away. He could have started a new life for himself. Harry had seen others do it and if they could, surely Malfoy would have succeeded.

Harry's face hardened. He was right. Malfoy had been given his options and he chose this. It wasn't Harry's fault if he hadn't thought of any other, more approachable, idea's to better his fate. Malfoy did this to himself and he'd be damned if he let the git feed his guilt. Draco Malfoy would get no pity from him.

He reached out and roughly shook one of the chilled shoulders. "Malfoy. Get up." He said with authority leaking from his voice.

Malfoy stirred but remained asleep. Harry realized how tired he must be if he slept through him ordering his team out and the attempted wake up call. He pushed down those unwanted feelings again when they surged up and felt anger quickly replacing them.

He took hold of the thin arm curled next to Malfoy and jerked hard, flipping the sleeping man onto his back. Malfoy woke up instantly and the reaction was not what Harry had expected.

A startled cry was torn from the swollen lips and Malfoy's arms went up instinctively to cover his face and head. Harry noted that Malfoy's front wasn't any better off than his back. It too, was covered in numerous cuts and bruises. He could also see each of the mans ribs as the translucent-like skin stretched over them.

Mafloy was muttering something in a low, whimpering voice, and Harry had to lean forward to here him properly.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, I didn't mean to."

Harry sat back sharply. He could see the faint tremble in Malfoy's body and frowned. Malfoy was terrified. He wondered what Greyback could have done to make this once proud man quiver in fear and beg for forgiveness that hadn't been warranted.

Harry straightened his shoulders and his lips thinned. Malfoy would not make him feel like it was his fault. He went to Greyback on his own accord.

"Malfoy, get yourself together." He snapped, ice practically hung from the tone.

Malfoy tensed. He seemed to stop breathing and his trembling increased. Harry wanted to smirk but kept his face hard. Slowly, as if afraid of what he would see, Malfoy dropped his arms. His wide disbelieving eyes met Harry's and he sucked in a sharp breath.

Harry couldn't hold back his smirk as he watched the blonde man open his mouth, then snap it shut when he was unable to find anything to say.

"Nice place you've got here. Could use a splash of color though, don't you think?" He said mockingly.

Malfoy blinked, coming back to himself. His eyes darted around the room frantically and stopped on Harry once more before lowering them to the ground near the brunettes feet.

He swallowed hard. "What-What's going on?" He sounded on the verge of panicking as he spoke in his soft voice.

"Well," he started. Harry stood and absently brushed off his robes. "this is a Ministry raid, or, at least, is was. We found this lovely tent just as we were finishing." He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. "Now, since you got to ask a question, it's my turn. Where is Greyback?"

Malfoy, noticing his nudity, flushed and reached down to grab the smelly blanket. Once it was snugly wrapped around him he said, "I don't know. H-He left."

"When?" Harry knew the werewolf was still on the loose. He had personally made a list of the prisoners and Greyback was not on it.

Malfoy shook his head. "I don't know the time, but it was dark out."

Harry took in the soft, humble voice and lowered eyes and sneered. "Well, that doesn't help me much, now does it?" He sighed and gave Malfoy a disgusted look even though he couldn't see it. "Don't move. I'll be back in a minute."

He turned and briskly walked out of the tent. Three pairs of eyes looked to him in question.

"Mclean and Bargens, wands out. Keep a sharp eye. Johnson, go back to the Ministry. Get every Auror back here. I want a thorough search of these woods within an eight mile radius. Fenrir Greyback was and may still be in the area."

When he returned to the tent, he noted that Draco hadn't moved an inch. He was still laying on his back with the blanket drawn up to his shoulders.

"Get up and get some clothes on." He bent, gathering up the rucksack and parchment. They might hold some useful information on Voldemort and his whereabouts. When he finished, he stood and looked expectantly to Malfoy, who hadn't budged. "Well? I think I was quite clear, Malfoy."

Malfoy's face was scarlet. "I haven't got any clothes."

Harry didn't even blink. He sighed loudly and started unbuttoning his outer robe. It didn't matter. With the way this place smelled, he would have probably tossed it in the garbage anyway.

Once it was off he held it out, waiting for Malfoy to come and get it.

Malfoy licked his lips nervously. He slowly got up on his hands and knees. To Harry's horror, instead of standing and walking over to him, he crawled. It shook him out of his cold demeanor and he took a hasty step back. "What are you doing?! Stop!"

The blonde man stopped instantly and looked up with wide eyes.

Harry looked back with equally wide eyes. Seeing Malfoy crawl to him was deeply disturbing. It was just wrong. "Get up, you idiot and walk for fucks sake!"

Malfoy closed his eyes and let out a quivering breath. It took him a moment before he could speak. "I can't, Potter."

"Why the hell not?"

Malfoy dropped to his side and propped himself up with one arm. He pulled the blanket, that he'd dragged along with him, up to reveal his legs. Across the middle of his pale calves were two long deep looking scars. Harry blanched. He'd heard of this procedure before. He had been able to get a spy into one of the packs a few years back. An old friend of Remus and fellow werewolf. One week after living with them, the man came to Harry and requested to be placed on a different assignment. When questioned the man told Harry of what he had seen to disturb him so. The werewolves had come up with a new game involving the muggles they'd kidnaped. They would sever all the muscles and tendons in the lower legs of their victims and free them an hour before transformation. They called it The Hunt and as of today there was only one known survivor. While it wasn't the worst thing the werewolves had done it was still terrifying. It showed how twisted they had become under Voldemorts influence.

Harry took a step forward and knelt down next to Malfoy. He brought his free hand out and traced one of the long scars. Ignoring the blonde mans flinch, he questioned quietly, "Why was this done to you? Your alive, so you obviously weren't part of The Hunt."

Malfoy shook his head and kept his eyes on the floor. "No, Mas-Greybacks' not allowed to kill me. It happened a few months after I came to him. When my mother died. I wanted to go to the funeral and he wouldn't allow me, so I ran away. I only got a few miles from his cave when he caught me. He told me I was lucky he allowed me to keep my legs at all."

Harry swallowed thickly against the pity forming and stood. His voice was once again cold and authoritative when he spoke.

"Well, it's nothing that St. Mungo's can't fix. Drop the blanket and put the robe on. We need to leave."

Malfoy reached out and grasped the fine material. He wouldn't put up a fight about leaving. It didn't matter. He'd be back in Greybacks hands as soon as his father found his whereabouts. He only hoped that St. Mungo's would be able to heal him a bit before that happened. It would be nice to have a few pain-free days and a few decent meals. And clothes, clothes would be nice. Even if it was just flimsy hospital gowns.

He gently slid the robe over his shoulders and buttoned it up before pulling the blanket out from under it. He barely noticed Potter's chilled gaze, so caught up in his thoughts of the treats he would get before returning. He decided it would be a vacation of sorts, one he would cherish.

He was suddenly very thankful of his empty stomach as he was lifted and thrown over Potters shoulder. Without a word, Potter exited the tent walking purposely, as if Malfoy weighed little to nothing at all.

After a quick word to one of the Aurors, he apperated them to the lobby of St. Mungo's.