Warning: Ok, just to tell you, the story gets a little more serious from this chapter. Lots of blood and gore and swearing, and if you think you can't handle it, then stop reading. Oh, and a little more slash in this chapter, but that's all the slash for now, until like chapter 10 or 11.

Note: also, for all you people who want to know, this takes place after the book Mattimeo, but before Pearls of Lutra. Yes, Grath Longflech is around, but much younger and not so hell-bent on revenge. Don't worry fellow Grath lovers. I will incorporate her into the story. And when I do, there's gonna be a little more romance in the air…


The next morning was as gloomy as Ron's mood. Rain splashed down in droves over the courtyard, running down the windows like tears. 'Why does he have to leave now', Ron thought, 'And just when we got to be friends too.' He stood up from the chair he was sitting on, and began pacing the room. It was in the early hours of the morning, and the other two were still asleep. He went back to the window, and looked down on the pond. 'God I'll miss Draco. So will Hermione. But I guess Harry will be really crushed. He and Draco got really close.' Dong! Dong! The bells rang out through the downpour. Ron, relieved that he didn't have to be alone with his thoughts anymore, began shaking Harry and Draco vigorously, yelling "Wakey wakey, eggs 'n bakey!"


After breakfast, all the creatures in the abbey (except for the little ones who were inside playing castle with no idea of what was going on outside) assembled in the pouring rain near the main gate. Draco, armed with a dagger and carrying a pack filled with five day's rations, strode past them, trying to look brave, but not doing a very good job of it. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were standing at the end of the line, and he stopped to say goodbye to them. Hermione was sobbing openly as she hugged him, and Ron patted his back, said "Don't spike yourself with that knife, ok?" and tried to laugh, but all he managed was a little half chuckle, half sob. Harry was the last one to say goodbye. He hugged Draco tightly, trying hard to keep the tears back. "You take care of yourself, ok?" he said, in a choked voice. "I'll be fine. Don't worry. I'll be back." Draco said, in a scared little voice barely above a whisper. He gave his trademark half laugh, and hugged Harry again. "Goodbye" he said. He turned to the open main gate, and took a deep breath as he surveyed his future life. Then he drew himself up to his full height (he was very tall as a ferret), wiped the rain and tears from his eyes, and stepped out of the abbey. He turned around just in time to see the gates slam shut behind him, shutting him out from the only real friends he had ever known.


Back in the abbey, the group started to break up. Creatures began to go back to their regular tasks, leaving only three in front of the gates. Ron looked over to Harry. Was it tears were pouring down his friend's face, like the rain down so many windows. He walked over to his friend, and put an arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry Harry. I know how close you two got."

'Closer then you think, Ron,' Harry thought, 'closer then you think…'


Draco stared in disbelief at the closed doors, half expecting them to open again, inviting him back in. he could almost hear the creaking of the doors as they opened, and see the faced of his friends… "Snap out of it, Draco." He told himself. "You've been declared an outcast, remember?" He slapped himself across the face. "Those bloody doors aren't opening again. This is your new damn life now. SO GET USED TO IT, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!!!!!!!!!!" He yelled. He tilted his face up to the sky, closing his eyes against the downpour, letting the rain wash away his tears. "Dear God, I'm so scared…"


The rain continued for the rest of the day, and into the night. The next morning came clear and sunny. Draco awoke covered in mud from the roadside ditch he slept in that night. He tried to wipe some of it off his green tunic, but his paws were just ass muddy, so they just made it worse. He ate a small breakfast of oatcakes and mint tea ('This is the same food we had for lunch out first day here,' he thought to himself.), and set about learning how to make a fire. A piece of flint had been included in his supplies, and he had the steel of his dagger blade. Before long, he had learned what to use and what not to use as tinder (he had made the unfortunate mistake of using wet twigs at first), how to aim the sparks the right way (he had made a mistake here too, by assuming that the sparks would go the opposite way that they were aimed in. He had set his fur alight as a result of this, adding another thing to the list of what not to use as tinder.), and how to add larger pieces of wood just the right way. After he had breakfast, he looked to see if there was anything else he had missed in the pack. To his disappointment, there was only food and the dagger. He began studying the dagger. It was a beautiful thing, with a silver handle and emeralds set into the crosspiece, and an emerald pommel- stone. He looked closer at the wickedly sharp blade, and saw a beautiful dragon carved down its length, and DM engraved just above its head, below the crosspiece. He turned it over, and saw some words engraved on the other side. They said "For DM alone this knife was made, and for DM this blade shall fly. DM, kill the one you love, or your one fate is to die." 'I wonder what it means.' Draco thought to himself. 'And I wonder who made it. It's a beautiful thing.' He held it out in front of him, looking at how the many faceted emeralds caught the sunlight in a cascade of rainbow. 'Funny' he thought, 'the handle seems to fit my paw exactly.' It struck him like a thunderbolt. He dropped the dagger, and stepped back, as if afraid of it. 'This dagger was made for ME. I am DM. Long ago, someone knew I would come here, and made this dagger for me.' He thought. He walked back over to the dagger, picking it up. He tested the blade on his paw, and gasped as the razor sharp blade slit his palm. As the blood dripped down over his fingers, he turned pale, remembering something. He quickly looked at the rhyme…prophecy, riddle, whatever…again, and his eyes grew wide as he read the last line again… "Dm, kill the one you love, or your one fate is to die."… He clenched his paw into a fist, wincing in pain as his fingers pressed the cut. "Harry…" he whispered…


Midday found the outcast trekking down the seemingly endless road, toward who knows where. The sun had become brutally hot, drying the mud that caked Draco's body. To the casual observer, he didn't look like a silver-blonde ferret. He looked like a brown, tall, lump of a toad. He stopped and shook himself vigorously. The dust flew from his fun in a huge brown cloud, causing Draco to cough. "Well, *cough* at least *cough* I *cough* look like a ferret again *cough*."

"That yeh do, matey, that yeh do."

Draco spun around, looking for the source of the voice. Standing behind him, he saw a black weasel, with a red sash and headband, and a gold earring in one ear. Tucked in his sash was a long, curved sword. Draco looked at it nervously, pawing his dagger which was tucked in his belt. The weasel grinned, and spoke again.

"Aye, we couldn't tell if'n you were fish nor fowl, so the cap'n, e says "Frogbottom, you go see what that great lump o summat is," so goes down to check. Wot's yer name, matey? I'm Frogbottom."

"I'm Draco Malfoy. I come from the abbey just up the road."

Frogbottom burst into fits of laughter. "Draco Malfoy? Wot kinda name is that, matey? Har har har har!"

Draco smiled, and chuckled. "Look at the pot calling the kettle black. My name's no stranger then your own!"

Frogbottom clapped a paw heartily on Draco's back. "I likes you, matey! I'll take ye back to the camp, and hand ye over to the cap'n! He'll like ye to!"


Frogbottom, followed by Draco, strode into camp. There were all manner of vermin there, foxes included. There was even the odd toad stalking among the ranks. Villainous eyes and weapons glittered at him as he followed Frogbottom. Ever once and a while, someone would advance on him, and Frogbottom had to step in. Finally, they arrived at a large canvas tent. Frogbottom knocked on one of the posts holding it up, and someone called "Enter."

They pushed through the tent flap. Draco looked around, perplexed by the décor of the inside. It was hung with skulls, bones, and fur of all kinds. A small fire crackled in the center, held in a large bowl. The bowl sat on a fur rug, seemingly wolf fur. Behind it, on a pile of furs, sat a large, black, fox. He had a white stripe the side of his face, and a jagged, pink scar on his left eye. There was no hint of another color in his coat. The bushy tail was curled around the footpaws, which rested on the wolf-skin rug. Frogbottom saluted. "Cap'n, I went down to the road ta see what that blob o mud was, and blow me if I didn't find this great lump o a ferret neath all that muck!" he pointed to Draco. "Ah was thinkin, Cap'n, if'n ye couldn't add this ferret to the horde!"

The fox sat silent for a minute, surveying Draco. "Come here, ferret." He commanded. Draco did as he was bidden.

"What's your name?"

"Draco Malfoy, sir."

"Where do you come from?"

"The great stone abbey, sir."


"Yes sir."

"Why aren't you there now?"

"I killed a young squirrelmaid, sir."

"Would you like to join my horde, Draco?" From behind his back, the fox drew a long skinning knife, and tested the blade on his paw.

Draco gulped. "Yes sir."

"Good. That's just the answer I wanted." He put the knife back behind his back. Draco relaxed visibly. The fox stood, and walked to stand in front of the ferret. Even for his impressive height, Draco stood an inch shorter then the fox. After taking in the Foxes height, he turned his attention back to his face. He found himself looking into eyes like fire. They were amber, flecked with gold and red. Looking into those eyes, Draco felt more fear then he had ever felt in his life. What made them even more terrifying, was that they were only inched from his own, and they were accompanied by a snarling mouth full of milky-white, razor-sharp teeth. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper in Draco's ear. "If you're going to join my horde, boy, then three things you have to learn are respect, obedience, and to fight like a madbeast. Can you learn these things?"

Draco nodded vigorously.

"Good. As your new commander, you will call me Captain, sir, or by my name."

"I beg your pardon, sir," Draco said nervously, "But I don't really know your name."

The fox laughed. "Ha ha ha ha! Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Kelantor, the Scarred One!"


Ok, I went a little overboard with the rain-like-tears comparison, but I JUST LOVE USING IT!!!!! And the wakey wakey eggs and bakey is all mine ^_^ I use it on my sister every morning…*Hehehe*