A Small Bite 2.0

3. Third Year

The week before his first full moon had been a growing pain.

The first two days he had muscle pain. Even moving his fingers hurt, but it was bearable. No one figured it out.

For the next three days, he started to feel pain in his bones. It was a little harder to hide, and he got a few confused and worried looks from his friends. He went to ask Lupin about it, and the teacher assured him that it was normal.

The last two days, light nausea kicked in, followed by enhanced senses. The potion classroom became hell for his nose. There were too many different scents and his brain found it hard to focus. All those smells, plus the mouldy onion stench Snape left behind every time he passed by, made him run to the nearest toilet and empty his stomach as soon as the class ended.

That was when his friends stopped with their stupid silent treatment and finally talked to him in the Great Hall.

«You should see Madam Pomfrey,» said Pansy, forcing him to take a goblet full of water.
«I'm fine,» the blond replied, sipping the liquid.
«Keeping saying it won't make us believe it,» said Blaise. Draco rolled his eyes.

«We've never seen you this sick,» said Vincent and Gregory nodded in agreement.
«There's a first time for everything, I guess» Draco's reply was almost whispered.

All the noises in the Hall were making his head hurt and the usual amazing smell of food he was used to was making his nausea worse. He just wanted to curl in his bed, turn all the lights off and sleep for a week, but he couldn't miss afternoon classes.

«You go to Madam Pomfrey or we make you,» said Pansy, glaring at him.
Draco sighed. He had to see her and get his Dreamless Sleep Potion anyway. Since he told her about his lycanthropy, she has been extremely kind and swore not to tell a soul. He had a newfound respect for her. «Fine, after classes»

His friends didn't look satisfied, but they gave in.

####

On the day of his first full moon, Draco woke up with all the previous symptoms intensified. He had been tempted to lay still all day, but he didn't want his roommates to see him like that. He forced himself to get up and reach the bathroom, ignoring the cry of help from his whole body.

Looking at the mirror, he almost didn't recognize himself. His hair looked worse than Potter's, his eyes were red-rimmed and he looked as pale as a ghost. He tried taking a shower, but it didn't help much.

He considered putting on a glamour, but he hadn't mastered the spell yet; it was too easy to spot. Was there a way to not look like a dead man walking without using magic?

How did muggles do it?

He slowly got dressed and left the dormitories, heading for the kitchens. During his first year, an older girl from their house took his friends and him to visit the house-elves. They didn't go there often, but when they did they made sure to grab as much food as they could. He smiled at the memory of five eleven years old running around at night full of different types of sweets.

Once he arrived in front of the painting, he tickled the pear and opened the green door.
Inside the kitchens, it was full of loud noises and strong scents, making it hard for the young werewolf. He covered his nose with his hand and turned to the closest house-elf.

«Hey, you, what's your name?»
The female elf jumped in surprise. She looked at him with wide, watery eyes. «Mister Malfoy! Polly's name is Polly!»
«Great. If I called you from outside the kitchen, would you come?»
Polly nodded enthusiastically. «Of course! Polly would be delighted to!»