Becoming Beta

Chapter 3

Greyback walked into his tent, leaving Draco out on his own. Sire? What the hell? Draco looked around the room again, the two men who were fighting in the circle, were still going at it. Others were surreptitiously looking Draco's way, and the rest were staring openly at him. Draco's tent was situated closest to Greyback's, the rest of the tents in the room were arranged in a semi-circle around those two tents. It looked like the Quidditch World Cup camping grounds. Draco had no idea there were this many people living down there, he counted 15 men that he could see.

When Greyback and Draco entered the dueling arena, Draco was surprised to see it changed from last summer, the last time he was down here and before the Dark Lord and his followers had taken up residence at the Manor. Draco turned back around and ducked into his tent, thankfully, it was a standard wizarding tent, with all the amenities. If he had to camp in his own house, at least he had a toilet.

The first thing he did after he scoped out his tent situation was throw up a silencing charm around the tent. Then Draco allowed himself to freak out. He hexed every piece of furniture he could find and screamed and cried. He was a whirlwind of action, twirling around the tent, nothing was safe from his wand. How could this have happened? A few weeks ago he had been the Slytherin Prince, with the world at his feet. He was rich, and young, and his family was in high standing. He had been a little worried about this Dark Lord situation, but his father hadn't spoken much about Him. It was the change in his father's attitude that had him scared. And now here he was, a filthy half-breed. Draco gagged at that thought. No better than a mudblood, really. Fuck, why did this have to happen? What kind of punishment was this for his father? It was a punishment for him! He'd have to endure the hugely painful transformations every month for the rest of his life. He was the one who now had a whole new culture to learn to navigate. His father was locked up and couldn't help him now. He might not even ever see his father again.

Suddenly spent, Draco's wand clattered to the floor and his shoulders slumped. He sat heavily on the floor and held his head in his hands. A few tears leaked down his face as he sat amidst the destruction. Fuck. He didn't really feel any better after destroying everything in his tent. No way Greyback is going to let me be here by myself for too long. Pull it together, Draco. He wiped his face with his hands and looked around him. Debris was everywhere and he still needed to get his stuff from his room. He may not be allowed to stay in his bedroom, but he needed clothes to wear and his school trunk.

"Tink!"

Tink popped into place next to Draco, her eyes were wide as she eyed the mess in the tent, "Yes, Master Draco?"

"Fetch my school trunk and clothes, looks like I'm moving in with the werewolf pack I didn't know was living in my basement." Draco shook his head at the irony of that. He didn't even know who was all living in his own house? Wasn't that kind of fucked up?

Tink popped out and Draco stood slowly and surveyed the damage. Grasping his wand he started muttering Reparo's under his breath as the items in his tent fixed themselves. Slowly, Draco's tent started looking like it had when he walked in 30 minutes ago. His breathing had calmed and the sweat was drying on his back as Tink popped back in the room with his school trunk in tow.

Draco had just finished putting away his clothes in the small dresser provided when, a very old man walked through his tent flap. Draco had a look of surprise on his face, didn't anyone around here knock?

"You the Malfoy boy?" the old man asked in an American accent. He hardly had any hair left, and what he did have was wispy and grey, circling his head, the top left shiny and bald except for the liver spots. The old man bent over his cane and sniffed.