Dear Delores Umbridge, Go Fuck Yourself

Running.

He was sprinting as fast as his little legs could carry him to the forest surrounding his curse of a home. No, not a home, just a curse. 

Distantly he could make out the sound of his Father yelling after him, shouts of violent promises followed Draco past the grounds barrier and into the brush of the forest. 

He wanted to run away. He wanted to be gone and never come back. He wanted to go back to Nikkō, he wanted his Dad. 

Draco could feel the tears well in his eyes at the thought of his Dad. 

Yes, Lucius Malfoy was his Father, but only biologically did Draco have any relation to him. Raymond Sanchez was the man who had raised him to that point. Raymond Sanchez was the man who helped Draco with his homework and played Mario Kart with him. Raymond Sanchez was his stepparent, but was his Dad in all the ways that truly mattered. 

He wanted his Dad.

He continued to run even after he made it past where he knew his Father would no longer be able to see him. He ran and ran until his high stamina ran out and he collapsed on the forest floor with a pained yelp. 

He didn't know how long he laid there, panting into the soft moss under his body. He could feel his face burn with the recent bruises adorning his skin. 

'What caused this?', you may ask. 

The answer is Draco used the wrong fork to eat his snails. 

That's what caused this. 

A fork. 

Lucius Malfoy wanted his son to be so perfectly purebred in every way that he would throw an abusive tantrum over something as insignificant as which fork to use. 

But Draco wasn't purebred. He was a Mountain Born Japanese Veela, and the sickly black blood streaming from the cuts on his arms were proof enough of it. 

Only when he heard sticks crunching underfoot did he stop panting and turn his head away from the dirt. He could feel the feathers of his broken wings sharpen into small knives at the smell of an animal practically radiating with magic - no, not an animal, a wolf.

He quickly flipped over onto his back, much to his dismay, and sat up to turn towards the sound. He knew better than to try and run. He couldn't outrun a werewolf, and his wings were broken so flying was out of the question. And even if he could get away, where would he go? Back to the Manor? 

Never. 

The smell got stronger as the wolf got closer, yet it was still out Draco's sight line. Even then, he knew exactly where it was. 

30 meters in front of him, slowing to a crawl at the smell of a promise of fresh meat. 

It waited two minutes, then five, then ten. A stand off, seeing who would move first without ever seeing the other. 

Draco grew tired of waiting for his demise. He just wanted to never go back to the Manor, whether that meant a young death or not, he didn't care. 

"C'mon then!" He yelled into the forest. "Come get your next meal before it bleads to death on the forest floor- unless that's what you want Mister Ōkami, an easy meal, have it your way!" 

As he said it, he smelt the wolf creeping forward until it was in his sight line right after he finished speaking.

A big, brown werewolf shone under the light of the full moon. It didn't growl, it didn't move from where it stood, just looked at him with teary eyes, likely just transformed. He was scraggly and boney, like he was half starved and ready for his next meal.

Draco forcefully relaxed his broken wings until the feathers were once again soft to the touch. The werewolf crept closer, until it was maybe ten feet in front of the young boy. 

A soft grumble escaped it's closed maw, almost sounding curious to what the child was doing. Draco held back a hiss that would have escaped his sharpened teeth at the low sound. 

The werewolf moved closer, until it was only a foot away from Draco. The beast leaned down, sniffing the boy's hair, only to immediately turn and sneeze. 

Draco tried not to laugh, really he did, but it was just so funny to his seven year old brain.

The boy let out a small chuckle, only to be quieted by the sharp turn of the wolfs head and the warning growl it let out. Draco pursed his lips, trying to not let his smile show, but ultimately failed. 

The wolfs growl turned into a low grumble as it moved even closer, until it's paws were in Draco's lap and his large head was pushing against the boys chest, pushing him against the ground before putting his full weight on the small child and laying on top of him. 

Draco wasn't panicking, he was calm. In his culture, death was a gift from the gods, given to only those who had fought for their rightful place amongst the stars. If this meant he was going to die, so be it. 

He knew his parents would miss him, but he would watch over them from the sky, directing their path as many have before. 

But the werewolf didn't move, he didn't make a sound, he just rested his head on Draco's chest, as if asleep. 

Draco looked down to check and- yep, the werewolf fell asleep on him. 

Well fuck. 

He tried to push the dead weight off of his body, but the wolf didn't budge, just continued to sleep. 

Draco struggled, until his leftover stamina truly ran out and he ended up just letting the beast sleep. 

With a sigh, Draco began to close his eyes. The heavy weight on him was comforting, and the moss was softer than his bed down in the dungeons. 

He reached his hand up to pet at the wolfs head, the same way he used to do with the dogs from his village, before sleep took him away and filled his head with dreams of festivals and goldfish. 

___

When Draco awoke, it took him a minute to remember where he was, before the previous night came crashing back to him. The fork, the hurt, the running, the werewolf. 

He looked down to see if the werewolf was still asleep, only to be met by the sight of a sleeping man. The man was tall and lanky, as the wolf had been, with brown hair and pale, almost clammy, skin. 

He was much lighter now, so Draco slowly lifted the man off his chest and rolled him over so he too was lying on the mossy forest floor. 

Draco had apparently jostled the man too much as he woke up, chocolate brown eyes meeting his heterochromic irises, before he looked away out of embarrassment.

The man blinked slowly, eyes trying their best to adjust to the bright morning. 

"Who're you, boy?" The man roughly slurred, drowsy from his transformation. 

Fun fact about werewolves, to combat the trauma that goes along with the physical and mental transformation, the common werewolf brain releases it's very own version of ethanol, or alcohol, to cope. To put it shortly, transforming from a human to werewolf and vice versa can make the common werewolf act drunk or hungover after the transformation, which is one of the main causes as to why some werewolves are so volatile. 

It's also one of the main reasons why most werewolves have an alcohol dependency and atleast one failing kidney. 

"My name is Dorako, sir. But the white man calls me Draco." The young boy said, referring to his Father. 

"Dorako it is. I'm Remus Lupin, cheesey name, I know." The man introduced, volume increasing and decreasing randomly throughout his speech. 

"I like your name, but I think I'll stick with Mister Ōkami!" Draco said through a smile.

"Ōkami, what's that mean?" The man asked, not once taking his eyes off the ground. 

"It means wolf in my first language." Draco explained while he rubbed at one of his itchy, dirt covered scabs. 

"Ah- Bloody-fucking-shit kid, did I do that?!" The man asked as he finally looked off the ground long enough to take in the boy's appearance. 

The large black, white, and gold wings on his back were broken and were held in an odd position because of it. His brown eye has a large purple bruise over it, and his lip was split in two places, black blood dried on his chin in ribbons. He had a gash on his forehead that definitely needed stitches, leaking blood down his face and making his white hair stick to his face. His arms were covered in little cuts, and on his left arm there was a purple mark that looked like a hand, as if he had been roughly grabbed.

The boy wore expensive clothes that were covered in his own blood, like he had been mauled by a beast. 

A monster.

"N-No." The boy's smile fell. "You didn't do it, sir. My Father did."

"Your Father?" Mr. Ōkami questioned. 

Draco nodded his head sadly. 

"Who's your Father, Dorako?" 

Draco's eyes once again met the man's. "Lucius Malfoy, sir." 

Lupin surprisingly huffed a laugh. "Of course the poncy prick would be a fuckin' kid beater." He said under his breath, but Draco heard it. 

"He hits Okāsan, too." Draco unhelpfully supplied.

Lupin let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"Hey, kid." He asked. 

"Yes, sir?" Draco responded politely. 

"Why don't you go to the Aurors or the Wizingamont?"

"Because," Draco said sadly. "Father works for the European Ministry, and he gives them a lot of money to make sure he doesn't get in trouble for all the bad stuff he does." 

"Your Father pays them off? And you know about it?" Mister Ōkami questioned. 

"Yeah, people like to whisper when they're around me because they think I don't hear them, but I do." As Draco said this, his long, elf like ears twitched playfully. 

"But your sure your Father pays them off?" Lupin was just double checking. 

"Yes, Father talks to that mean man I don't like, Cornelius Fudge, every month saying he needs to renew their contract, but I went through Father's study and I couldn't find a contract to Cornelius Fudge in the Ministry pile. I did find some in his money embezzlement plans, though."

Remus's eye brows shot up to his hair line. Not because Draco found Lucius's embezzlement schemes, everyone knew he was getting richer over the years somehow, but at the fact that Draco had been able to find it and was still alive. Merlin knows that man wouldn't let anyone near his shit. 

"Did he catch you?" Lupin asked, intrigued.

Draco shook his head. 

"Your pretty sneaky, huh?" Remus asked playfully.

"I can be." Draco responded with a smile slowly growing on his chubby face.

Remus sighed sadly. "I do wish I could do something to help you and your Mother, as she was a dear friend of mine and Siri- a friends, but I'm afraid that if I go to the authorities they won't believe what I say, me being a werewolf and all. I'm so sorry, Dorako." 

Lupin could feel tears well in his eyes, he always had been a sappy drunk, and the fact that this kid he met was so nice didn't help the fact that he felt like he was going to bawl. 

"It's okay!" The young boy responded with a smile growing on his face bright enough to rival the damn sun, but suddenly it fell. "I don't want Father to go to Azkaban now, it's too soon after the war." He said gravely, a serious and dangerous look replacing his bright smile.

"I want him to hope he got away with it," Draco began. "I want him to hope the world will start acting his way, then I want to rip it away from him the same way he ripped everything away from me." 

"Oh, kid..." Remus sighed sadly. This poor boy was going through so much, and he couldn't do anything about it. Then an idea struck, one that his sober brain would definitely kill him over, but this wasn't Sober-Remus-Lupin, this was Drunk-Off-His-Ass-Remus-Lupin.

"Heeeeyyy, Dorako?" He asked playfully. 

Draco shot him a questioning look. 

"How would you feel if I said you got to join a secret club that puts bad guys like your Father in jail?" Remus inquired, smiling at the young boy. 

Draco projected his own smile back. "I would asked where do I sign up."

Remus laughed giddily, before holding up his hand and shouting, "Accio Wand!" 

Followed by silence. Pure. Deafening. Silence.

Draco quirked his head to the side in question. 

Remus looked nervously at the boy and then back to his still raised hand. "Just give it a moment, kid." 

Despite saying this, Lupin waited all of thirty seconds before lowering his hand with a disapoited scowl on his face. 

"What were you trying to do, Mister Ōkami?" The boy questioned. 

"I was trying to sommon my wand, but sinse my magic wants to be so stubborn-"

 Right in the middle of his angry ranting, the wand flew through the opening of the trees and straight for Remus. 

But, he didn't have his hand up to catch it, resulting in the handle of the wand hitting him right in the head. 

Draco couldn't help but snort at the hollow sound the impact made.

Remus yelped, before he glared at the wand resting on the ground. He snatched it up off the ground before he turned back to the young boy. 

"Hold out your hand." He instructed. 

Draco listened, holding out his right palm to face upwards. 

Remus shakily put the tip of his wand to the center of the boy's palm. He shouted a spell that was too slurred for Draco to understand, but as he did, red and yellow ribbons shot out of his wand and wrapped around his hand in beautiful patterns. 

When the spell was over a moment later, Remus pulled his wand back to look at Draco's palm. It looked the exact same as before, nothing out of the ordinary.

"...what did the spell do?" Draco asked curiously while quirking his head to the side. 

"What did it do?!" Remus asked back. "I-It only made you one the most undercover spies ever!" He exclaimed. 

"Most undercover spies ever?" Draco questioned his grammer back. 

"Yes, welcome to The Order Of The Phoenix, my boy!" Lupin slurred. 

"What do I do?" Draco inquired. 

Remus looked at him exhasperatedly, as if Draco was the drunk one. "Your job is to gather any and all incriminating information on your Father, then when the time is right, you'll give it all to me, and I'll help out him in Azkaban."

"How will I know when the time is right?"

Lupins eyes turned sad, almost like a kicked puppy. "Do you know what was happening when you were a babe?" He asked Draco.

"Yes," He responded. "The war, my Okāsan was a spy for the good side, and she got a lot of information that helped to defeat the evil snake guy!" He explained.

Remus smiled brightly at the boy, talk about mood swings. "I knew your Mother, she had the same job you have now, for the same people, too. " His face fell once again, with a furrowed brow he explained, " You'll know when the time is right because he'll be back, the snake guy. But I need you to be strong Dorako, be like your Mum, yeah?" 

Draco nodded his head enthusiasticly, unaware of what he had just gotten himself dragged into. 

"Good lad." Remus said, giving him a wink.  And with that, the fully nude strange man apparated away, leaving Draco with his thoughts. 

Than it hit him. He had to go back to the Manor. No matter how far he ran, he would always have to return to his Father if he wasn't in Azkaban. 

That day Dorako make himself a promise. A promise that one day, no matter what it took, he would make his Father pay for what he had done to his family. 

But until then, he was a Malfoy, not a Sanchez or a Black, and he would have to act as such.

He would have to wear glamours to appear as a carbon copy of Lucius, he would have to act like a snob. He would have to give up his childhood, more than he already has, to make his Father pay. 

Yeah, he could do that.