Hermione Granger

Hermione could not believe her eyes. Aela was a werewolf…a very large werewolf. Suddenly, everything that her friend had done over the past three years made perfect sense. Her enhanced senses, her strength and speed, her ferocity. All of it added up. How she; the Brightest Witch of her Generation; had missed something so monumental about her best friend, she couldn't understand.

Everything about Aela Potter had seemed supernatural from the start. From her glowing emerald eyes to her perfect ivory skin. The way her messy hair always seemed to be perfect even though it was untamable.

When all hell had broken loose with the Philosopher's Stone and Chamber of Secrets incidents, Aela had been the one to save as many people as possible. It had been Aela; not McGonagall, not Snape, and certainly not Dumbledore; who had fought and killed a Basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor, slew a dozen Death Eaters in training, destroyed Riddle's diary and saved Ginny Weasley's mind from a Dark Ritual that would've turned a bright, powerful young witch into a slave to a reborn Dark Lord. All in one Night.

Aela had always been truthful to her friends. If there was something on her mind, she said it. No bending the truth, no lying to their faces. The Truth. Hermione could only assume that was why she never guessed Aela had a secret so huge.

Hermione watched as the black werewolf that had been her best friend pulled herself to her full height, standing head and shoulders above Ron, who was the tallest of the three humans. The gangly boy in question was simultaneously whimpering while holding onto Black, keeping the man from rushing to his goddaughter's aid.

Hermione's sharp mind quickly noted the many differences between the two wolves as they growled at one another. The werewolf that had once been Professor Lupin looked…sick. He was rail-thin, his body naught but skin and bone. His gray fur was thin and patchy, as though he had mange. The werewolf was not much taller than his human form had been. Even if he wasn't hunched over, Hermione doubted he would've been taller than six feet. His claws were ragged and chipped, as though he bit them a great deal. His yellow-green eyes were filled with a madness that sent a shiver down the bookworm's spine.

The black Werewolf that had been Aela Potter looked far healthier. Her fur was thick and smooth, the midnight pelt shining in the silvery Moonlight, a thick mane blooming from between her shoulder blades and ending just between her ears and under her powerful jaws. Thick, powerful muscle rippled beneath her hide, alerting Hermione that she was much stronger than the rabid wolf before her. The Black Wolf stood seven-feet-tall, not hunched over in the slightest and much taller than her human form, the remains of her shirt and pants hanging in tatters around her body. Her claws were long, black and razor sharp, the claws of an accomplished hunter. Hermione couldn't see her eyes as the Wolf's back was to them, but from the way the beast was crouched with her arms spread in a protective stance, Hermione was certain that her emerald eyes were far more focused and sane that the rabid wolf before them.

Hermione yelped as both wolves exploded into motion, the Black before her moving far faster than the Gray across from them. The wolves collided with a loud thud as flesh and bone connected, the different wolves snapping and snarling at one another as they rolled over the grass, fur and blood flying. Gray howled in pain as Black locked her jaws onto his shoulder, pulling her left hand back to sucker punch Gray in the throat. Gray gagged as he was lifted off the ground and flung a meter or so away from Black through sheer strength. They charged again, Black snarling as Gray bit her left forearm, his jagged teeth tearing flesh. Black slashed again and again with her right arm, gouging deep cuts into Gray's side, shoulder and face.

Finally, a blow to the side of the head had Gray yelping in pain as a blow to the head knocked him free of Black's arm, the much larger wolf sending him flying with a back-handed strike, her now free left arm following up to slash him across the chest, blood spurting from the wound as he hit the ground hard.

The gray pushed himself up, blood pouring from the numerous slashes and bite wounds across his body. His yellow-green eyes were locked on the humans, but the Black placed herself between them and him, a deep rumble emanating from her chest as she bared her fangs at him, the sound shaking Hermione's bones. The Gray's eyes flicked to the ground as he whimpered pathetically, before quickly turning tail and running to the Forbidden Forest as fast as his gangly legs could carry him, swiftly vanishing into the shadows of the ancient trees.

The Black turned to them, emerald eyes glowing in the night as they locked onto Hermione. The bushy-haired Gryffindor froze as the massive predator looked her way, every muscle she had quivering in fear as the Werewolf started her way, taking long, yet slow steps until she stood before the bookworm, towering over the terrified teen. Hermione could vaguely hear Ron whimpering behind her, but her full attention was focused on the Black Werewolf before her. Her cinnamon eyes locked on the snarling wolf pendant that still hung around the wolf's neck, nearly hidden in the thick fur and shredded fabric, the chain pulled tight from the change in the wearer's size. From there, her eyes traced the wounds along the predator's body. Blood leaked from the gashes on her sides and shoulders, the bite wound on her left forearm oozing thick blood, which hissed as the hot ichor hit the cool grass beneath them. Hermione's eyes widened slightly as she watched the wounds begin to knit themselves shut at incredible speed, swiftly leaving nothing but slightly ruffled fur in their wake as they sealed shut.

Hermione looked up into the Wolf's eyes and was surprised that there was no hunger, nor malice of any kind in those emerald orbs. Instead, there was affection, relief and something else that she couldn't quite place. The Wolf's hot breath brushed against her face as the predator's chest heaved from the short, but intense fight. Then, the unbelievable happened.

The Black Wolf lowered herself down to Hermione's height, emerald eyes level with light brown. Hermione's muscles loosened and her heart slowed as she suddenly felt…safe. Safe with a massive werewolf right in front of her. Something that was unheard of, but was apparently happening.

Hermione's hand slowly rose on its own accord, its owner not trying to stop herself in the slightest as she raised her hand to be level with the Werewolf's face.

"Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea…" Ron whimpered behind her. As per usual, Hermione ignored him.

The Wolf's emerald eyes regarded her hand for only a moment before her eyes closed and she pressed her large head against Hermione's hand. A breath Hermione didn't know she had been holding released as her hand pressed against the smooth, silky fur of the Werewolf's head. The Werewolf's mane was thick and soft, much smoother than Hermione had been expecting. A rumbling purr shook the Werewolf's bones and Hermione couldn't stop the choked laugh that came from her throat.

"Aela…?" The Wolf's eyes opened, glowing emeralds regarding the escaped convict with a soft gaze as Black moved to Hermione's side. The Wolf's eyes were soft and filled with what appeared to be regret as they flicked between Black, Hermione and Ron as the lanky red-head limped to Hermione's right side. The trio of humans stared at the Wolf as she remained crouched before them, no sign of aggression or hunger on her countenance.

"SAGITTA ARGENTUM!" a trio of voices cried from the direction of the castle. A moment later, a trio of arrows forged of silver light flew through the air and buried themselves in the Wolf's side.

The reaction was instant. Aela yelped in pain and leapt back as another pair of silver arrows passed through where she had been kneeling just a moment before, her snout twisted in a snarl as the flesh around the arrows hissed and smoked. The Black Werewolf snarled in pain as her clawed hand reached down and quickly yanked the silver arrows out of her side, growling as her green eyes snapped toward the casters as the silver shafts burned her hand for a moment longer before they shimmered out of existence.

Fudge, Macnair and Dumbledore were standing several dozen meters away, their wands raised as they prepared to cast the Silver Arrow spell once more. Fudge looked like he was about to faint from fear, Macnair had a look of sick satisfaction at Aela's pain, and Dumbledore looked both confused and furious. Past them, Hermione could see the silhouettes of McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, Snape, Hagrid and Flitwick making their way across the lawn at speed, the light of the Great Hall shining behind them.

Aela's lips pulled back in a snarl as she pulled herself to her full height and took a deep breath, green eyes filled with pain and fury as she glared at the three who had wounded her.

RRRRRROOOOOOOAAAAAAARRRRRR! Aela unleashed a thundering bellow from her powerful lungs as her arms spread wide, black claws extended and glowing emerald eyes filled with the promise of pain as she prepared to charge.

"STOP!" Hermione cried, jumping in front of Aela with her arms opened wide, causing the Black werewolf to stop herself from charging before she ran over her friend. Ron and Black joined her, blocking the three adults from firing the spell again.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Black, please move away from the werewolf." Dumbledore said in that grandfatherly tone. Once, it had made Hermione feel safe. Now it made her furious.

"No way, Headmaster," Hermione said, not moving and inch as the old man's eyes widened in surprise. Understandable. She had never told a teacher 'no' before, much less the Headmaster. "We won't let you hurt Aela again."

The Minister let loose a shaky laugh as his wand hand shook. "Don't be foolish, young lady. That cannot be Heiress Potter. The Ministry would have been made aware if she had been bitten."

Ron spoke up, his body shaking from loss of blood. "Not bloody likely. Half the time, you can't even find your own pants. How would you know anything about Aela if no one even knew she was alive until she got her Hogwarts letter? If nobody ever went to check up on her when she was living with her Aunt and Uncle?"

"Did someone say somethin' about hurtin' Aela?" Hagrid asked in his gravelly voice as he reached Dumbledore's side with the other members of the faculty, beady black eyes roaming those with wands raised. Hermione loved the big man. He treated Aela much like a niece, and hence was very protective, despite Aela obviously being able to take care of herself.

"This is Aela, Hagrid." Hermione said, motioning to her wounded friend, whose injuries were still smoking from the arrows. "Look at her neck! Aela's necklace is right there!"

McGonagall wasted no time. "Lumos!" she cried, the tip of her wand lighting up in a focused beam. The old woman gasped as the light fell on the snarling wolf pendant, the emerald gems shimmering in the light against the Wolf's midnight black pelt. The elderly woman quickly moved the light up to the Wolf's eyes, catching a glimpse of emerald orbs before a black furred arm blocked the light.

"Albus…" McGonagall breathed. "It is her. It's Ms. Potter, she never takes that necklace off."

Dumbledore looked gob smacked as he beheld the black Werewolf before them, his wand arm lowering as he stared into her fierce green eyes as she stared back.

"How…how is this possible?"

Everyone jumped when a crack filled the air as the Wolf snarled and began to shrink, fur receding as she began to Change back to her human form. Hermione gaped at her friend. To have enough control on the Full Moon to not only keep from harming her friends, but to change back and forth at will was supposed to be impossible. And yet once again, Aela Potter did the impossible with little to no effort.

They watched as claws became nails, fangs became teeth, Wolf become Human, and within a few moments, Aela stood before them, hunched over in pain as her left arm wrapped around her torso, hand covering the puncture marks where the silver arrows had embedded themselves, blood oozing from the injuries even as they smoked ever so slightly. Her clothes were shredded, her shirt barely preserving her modesty, but giving them a good view of the lean and powerful muscle of her abdomen and arms. Her pants were also torn, her pale legs on full display.

"Bloody Hell…" Aela hissed through clenched teeth. "Now I remember: Wait an hour at the least before Changing back; that way you don't feel like you got trampled by a herd of very angry, drunk elephants wearing cleats."

Her eyes; still as vibrant as before; were filled with fury and indignation as they snapped to the Headmaster, Minister and Executioner.

"At what point does non-hostile werewolf equal shoot first, ask questions never?" she snarled, her voice hoarse. "If you had two brain cells to rub together between the three of you, you'd have realized that at no point was I acting aggressive toward them."

Aela stood straight, eyes flashing as she winced from the pain. "And since you used Silver Arrows rather than a rock or something, I'm going to have to suffer the burning for the next few days rather than healing in a minute or two. So, thanks for that, you colossal idiots."

"Ms. Potter!" McGonagall admonished.

Aela turned her glowing emerald eyes to the Transfiguration teacher. "With respect Professor, stay out of it. Had it been you who had exited first, I don't doubt that I wouldn't have any silver burns on my sides. Because unlike these three idiots, you actually think before you act."

She turned back to Dumbledore, her eyes burning with a fury that made Hermione want to hide.

"As for your question, Headmaster," Aela spat, the title sounding like an insult on her lips. "Its pretty fucking simple to hide something from someone who's never around. Eleven years, and not a peep from you. No sign that there was ever anyone who gave two fucks about me. No, you were too busy using the Potter vote in the Wizengamot to further your political career without my authorization, and using my family's money to do Morrigan-knows-what. And once I arrived at Hogwarts, you only spoke to me after I did your bloody job. And then, never to ask if I was alright, or to make sure my mental and emotional state was stable. No, you only ever berated me for doing what I had to in order to survive. Not to mention that you're almost never at the school, since you have four full time jobs that has you running all over the country."

Something Hermione didn't like flashed over Dumbledore's face; a look of fury and indignation accompanied by hatred. But then it was gone, replaced with an expression of subdued guilt. Hermione didn't believe it was genuine.

Aela turned her eyes to her friends and godfather. "And I'll explain everything in the morning. But for right now, we've got to get inside and get Ron to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey might have something for these Silver Burns as well."

Hermione helped her friend, taking Ron's left arm while Aela took his right. They moved forward, Black taking up a position next to Aela, the girl's jacket, boots, belt and wand holster in his hands. Hagrid; bless the big man; moved behind them, shooting a glare at McNair and Fudge that had both men shrinking back at the sight of the angry man who towered above them.

They didn't get far.

They had just reached the courtyard and were about forty feet from the front doors when a deep chill swept through Hermione's body, the temperature quickly dropping to the low twenties, causing frost to spread across the stone and fog to erupt from her lips. Any sense of happiness or joy in her body drained from her, leaving her feeling as though she had lost everything she had ever cared about.

Mum, Dad, Ron, the Weasley Twins, Hogwarts… Aela.

Different images flashed through her mind at breakneck speeds until it settled on an image of a broken and bloody Aela Potter. The image before her looked as though she had been mauled by a pack of bears. Her right arm was gone, torn from its socket with terrible force, the torrent of blood soaking the stone floor beneath her. Her left hand; beaten and broken it was; was pressed to her stomach, which had been eviscerated to the point that her internal organs were attempting to leave her body. Her face was covered in gashes and bruises, her left eye a ruin of organic material, her right empty and glassy as the girl stared at nothing as her corpse slumped against a pillar, head tilted to the side at an unnatural angle.

Hermione curled in upon herself, arms wrapped around her head as she tried to block out the image, whimpers falling from her lips as tears flowed from her eyes.

"Not her…please, not her…"

She couldn't breathe, her brain was shutting down, blood pounding in her ears. Something familiar made it past the pounding in her head. A voice, one she knew…

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" the voice cried with enough force to shake the ground beneath Hermione's body.

Warmth bloomed in her heart, and the horrible images before her shattered, the icy chill that had permeated her body falling away as her vision cleared. She blinked blearily as her eyes caught sight of a brilliant silver light to her right, her brown eyes drawn to the disturbance.

There stood a young woman with wild black hair whipping around her skull as the wind howled. Her clothes were in tatters, revealing a body etched with powerful muscles that shimmered with sweat, her elegant, angular face twisted into a snarl as emerald green eyes were locked on something before her.

Something about her was so familiar…but Hermione's terror addled brain failed to make the connection.

Her right side was drenched in blood, the scarlet fluid leaking from a trio of small wounds that were scorched as though the weapons had been super-heated. The woman's legs were bent as though to support her weight better, her right arm raised and her hand clasped around a jet-black rod.

The rod itself was unleashing a stream of white light that coalesced into… a wolf? If that is what it was, then it was larger than any wolf Hermione had ever read about. Standing the size of a horse, the silvery wolf looked to be lined with powerful muscle, covered in a thick coat and possessed very large canine teeth that protruded from its snarling maw. The silver wolf was crouched, head reared back as it howled, body pulsing with power as it unleashed shockwave after shockwave of Light.

Past the silver beast, Hermione's eyes widened as they beheld the massive swarm of black cloaked…things that were slowly being pushed back as the light collided with their bodies.

Dementors…

Hermione's brain started kicking back in as her eyes were drawn back to spot Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, Professor Snape, the Minister of Magic and the Executioner as they watched with wide eyes as the thirteen-year-old witch that was named Aela Tala Potter pushed back the tide of Dark Creatures with the immensely powerful Patronus Charm.

'The Patronus Charm is charged by a singular happy memory and an indomitable will,' Hermione remembered Aela telling her that after her first lesson with Professor Lupin. Her eyes narrowed as she pushed herself to her feet and pulled her own wand out of her back pocket, the vine-like design giving her a firm grip as she raised the vine-wood rod. She thought back to a singular happy moment in her life. It wasn't hard to find.

The moment she sat down across from Aela on the train, when the green-eyed girl had introduced herself with a nervous smile and a firm handshake, no trace of annoyance or arrogance as the bushy-haired bookworm had suspected she might've had from the countless books that were written about her. That moment had made her feel so warm inside, so insanely happy that she had simply talked with the raven-haired young lady far easier than anyone else in her life, including her parents; not once talking about school or trying to prove herself.

Her lips turned up into a smile as that warmth filled her chest once more, and she shouted, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Instantly, a silver animal sprung from her want, twirling through the air with playful movements as it floated over to swim around the silver wolf that Aela had created. It was an Otter. Hermione's smile widened as the playful mammal landed on the wolf's head and began to emitted its own shockwaves; smaller than the wolf's but just as effective against the Dementors.

Within moments, a large silver bird soared overhead, music singing from its beak as it hovered above her Otter and Aela's wolf, quickly joined by a silver Doe, a silver house cat and a large dog, each taking a position next to the massive Wolf to push back the Dark Horde. Hermione dared not look away from her Patronus, pouring as much power as she could into the spell.

Hermione was by no means weak. She had often been told that she was an extremely skilled and powerful young witch. But seeing the amount of power Aela was unleashing whilst injured and exhausted was absolutely astonishing. Hermione had always known that Aela was far stronger than her. That had been a given from the first moment they had been working on practical spells together; the raven-haired witch giving off a sort of pressure when she wasn't casting, almost like her power was straining to be unleashed. However, Hermione had never realized exactly how strong her best friend was until tonight.

The Bookworm wasn't sure how long she held the spell for. It could have been a few seconds, or it could have been a few hours, but soon the Dementors all fell back, soaring into the sky with rattling breaths as her Patronus finally failed her, the silver otter blinking out of existence as she slumped over, chest heaving as she gasped for breath. Hermione's eyes looked back behind her to see Ron; pale as a ghost; shaking like a leaf as he stared at where the horde of Dementors had been a moment before; Black with Professor Lupin's wand in his skeletal hand as he shakily moved toward his Goddaughter, who was swaying on the spot as blood poured from the puncture wounds on her side, ebony wand held loosely in her grasp.

Aela tipped forward, nearly hitting the ground in a dead faint before Black and Professor McGonagall caught her, Hagrid moving to the pair to easily pick up the raven-haired werewolf in his arms, the girl looking tiny against his massive frame before he took off toward the Castle, massive stride carrying him far before he disappeared through the massive doors.

"Aela…" Hermione croaked before coughing harshly, her throat sore from the extreme cold that followed the Dementor horde. A hand patted her on the back lightly, drawing her cinnamon eyes to Professor McGonagall.

"Fifty points to Gryffindor, Ms. Granger," the elderly teacher breathed as she helped the young witch to her feet by her arm. "Never have I ever seen a corporeal Patronus cast on the first try under duress. Extraordinary. Truly extraordinary."

Hermione gave a tired smile as she began making her way toward the Castle, intent on heading to the Hospital Wing to check on Aela.

A thin hand gently grabbed her shoulder as Sirius Black made his way to her side, supporting her weight as he helped her on their way; McGonagall following close behind with Ron on a conjured stretcher.

The odd group of seven walked in silence for the duration of their journey to the Hospital Wing, the only noise at all coming from their feet hitting the stone floor and Ron's moan's of pain and fear as his leg was disturbed upon the gurney, his mind assaulted by his worst fears thanks to the Dementors residual effects. When they entered the Hospital Wing, Hermione could see Madam Pomfrey rushing back and forth between an open potion cabinet and a occupied hospital bed as Hagrid seemed to be holding down Aela, who Hermione could see was gritting her teeth in pain as she struggled to shy away from whatever the Matron was doing to treat her Silver Burns.

Hermione forced her tired body to move faster, Sirius right behind her as they rushed to Aela's side. The girl in question was drenched in sweat, her eyes screwed shut in pain, her skin nearly bone white and her teeth were bared, sharpened into fangs as her face twisted into a pained snarl. Her side had been washed clean of blood, which made the wounds much easier to see. However, what brought Hermione up short was the collection of scars that crisscrossed across Aela's body that had most certainly NOT been there not a few minutes before. The lash marks covered about forty percent of the young girl's body, crisscrossing over her legs, torso and arms, and no doubt wrapping around her back in a web of injuries that looked very painful.

"Whichever one of you damned fools decided to use the Silver Arrow spell on a young werewolf, you should be ashamed of yourselves." Pomfrey snapped as she rubbed a mustard-yellow paste over the puncture wounds, the injuries smoking thickly as every muscle in Aela's body tensed, the girl arching off the bed as she struggled against Hagrid's powerful grip, her jaw clenched as she whimpered in pain.

"You knew she was a werewolf, Poppy?" Professor McGonagall questioned as she placed Ron on a separate bed. Her grass-green eyes were wide with surprise and slight indignation as she beheld the Head Matron.

Madam Pomfrey scoffed as she began to wrap bandages around Aela's torso, the girl's emerald eyes half open and bleary with pain. "Of course I knew. How many times has this girl been in here over the past three years? I noticed when she was in here at the end of her First Year. She asked me not to tell anyone after proving to me that she was in control of herself."

"How did she do that?" Hermione croaked as Sirius lowered her onto the bed directly to Aela's left.

Madam Pomfrey snorted. "She Changed right in the middle of the Hospital Wing; on a New Moon no less; smirked at me, waved and proceeded to help me clean up as a large black werewolf for an hour before she Changed back. Most impressive; even for a Born Werewolf; to be in complete control at age eleven."

Hermione smirked in amusement as Professor Dumbledore moved forward. "And why was I not informed of this, Poppy?"

Madam Pomfrey rose to her full height as she finished tying off the bandages and pinned the Headmaster with a dark glare that had the man gulping in barely suppressed fear. "Inform the man that left this poor girl with those horrible people for a decade and didn't bother to check on her that whole time? The man who berated Ms. Potter for fighting and killing Quirrell in defense of her friends and that blasted Stone, rather than asking after her health? Who berated her for fighting and killing a dozen of Death Eaters in training within the walls of this very school whilst trying to save Ms. Weasley from Corruption before killing the Basilisk you refused to deal with? I think not!" the woman snapped as she moved around the bed, coming to a stop right in front of the Headmaster. "You may be head of this school, Albus, but I am Matron of this Hospital Wing. When I say I'll keep a patient's secrets from people who have no right to know, I keep their secrets."

"Where did those scars come from?"

All eyes turned to Sirius, who was staring at the marks that spread across his goddaughter's body. The look in his eye was a mixture of rage and pain, his shaking skeletal hands clenched in his lap.

Madam Pomfrey took in his skeletal form for a moment before reaching into the Potion Cabinet and pulling out a silver vial. She moved over to the escaped convict and forced the bottle into his hands. "Drink it all in one go. Don't smell it, don't taste it. Just down it fast, Mr. Black."

Sirius blinked at the older woman before complying, his face twisting into a disgusted grimace as the potion hit the back of his throat, the man gagging in disgust from the horrid potion. With a satisfied nod, Pomfrey pinned Dumbledore with a harsh glare. "Belt marks from her Aunt and Uncle, with a few knife wounds from her cousin. All received between the ages three to ten. Those are the people you thought she'd be safe with, Albus."

Hermione hand covered her mouth as she felt fresh tears spring to her eyes as Madam Pomfrey listed off the sources of Aela's scars. Sirius looked as though he had just had a heart attack. The Minister of Magic was wide-eyed and pale. Hagrid's face; most commonly graced with a warm smile and a twinkle in his black eyes; was twisted into an enraged glare, one that promised pain and death to those who had hurt the girl who was like family to him. Even Professor Snape; who always seemed to hate Aela with every fiber of his being; looked both horrified and disgusted at the young girl's treatment.

Dumbledore looked absolutely horrified at the mistreatment that the Girl-Who-Lived had gone through.

SMACK!

Hermione jumped in her seat as Professor McGonagall spun on the spot and slapped Professor Dumbledore right across the face; face twisted in fury as she began screaming in what Hermione could only assume was Scots Gaelic.

"Bha ag innse dhut Albus! Thuirt mi riut gur e na daoine sin an seòrsa Muggle a bu mhiosa, ach cha do dh'èist thu rium! Agus seall air na thachair dhi! Mhallaich thu, am fuilteach gobhar fuilteach, amadan le clach!" the woman screamed in the Headmaster's face as the old man reeled back quickly, putting a fair bit of distance between himself and the Transfiguration Teacher as Dumbledore pressed a hand to his reddened cheek.

The Head of Gryffindor House opened her mouth to continue screaming at the old man, but no sound exited her mouth. Professor McGonagall blink as she looked around for the culprit who had Silenced her.

Madam Pomfrey was calmly putting her wand away. "I have no problem with you tearing into Albus, Minerva," Madam Pomfrey said as she moved around to Ron's bed. "I only ask that you take your yelling match out of the Hospital Wing so that Ms. Potter can rest. Silver Burns, along with forcing a Transformation back into human form on a Full Moon before a full Hour had passed, followed by using a N.E.W.T Level spell against an absolutely massive horde of Dementors," the Matron shot a heated glare at the Minister, who shifted uncomfortably on the spot, "Means she needs plenty of rest in order to heal properly. You screaming at such volume will only deter the healing process."

Professor McGonagall's mouth snapped shut and a horrified expression spread across her visage as she slumped down into an empty bed. Evidently, Madam Pomfrey had lifted the spell, for McGonagall croaked out. "Of course, Poppy. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking…"

Madam Pomfrey nodded in understanding, a soft look in her normally stern eyes as she began looking over Ron's leg. "Understandable dear. Now please, do leave so I can work in peace."

"Apologies for the interruption."

All eyes snapped around to the entrance of the Hospital Wing, where a square-jawed witch with close-cropped grey hair and a square-shaped monocle clothed in black robes was striding towards the group, followed by a woman in her mid-twenties who sported gold hair cut at her neck and was carrying a clip board, along with a young woman in her early-twenties with short, spikey bubble-gum pink hair and dark, mischievous eyes clothed in dark brown trench coat.

"Madam Bones?" Professor McGonagall gasped in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

The woman regarded the Transfiguration Teacher with a calculating gaze. "My Presence was requested by Heiress Potter. She and I have been in contact in recent months to deal with several matters concerning Albus Dumbledore and his lack of action as her Magical Guardian. I received a letter at 0400 hours this morning requesting my presence here at this time. I was expecting to be greeted at the Great Hall, but when I saw the Dementors retreating with haste, I assumed Ms. Potter would be here, as I have been told by my niece that she apparently has horrible luck and ends up in the Hospital Wing on a regular basis."

Hermione snuck a look at the Headmaster, and was interested to see he looked to be shocked at what Madam Bones was saying.

"And Considering what I just heard," Madam Bones continued, "Chief Warlock Dumbledore has failed miserably in his duties as Heiress Potter's Magical Guardian. Mr. Black," the woman said to Sirius, who stiffened as he was called out. "You and I will need to talk, seeing as no one here is attempting to arrest you, I'd say some interesting information has come up concerning yourself. Do try and get cleaned up between now and tomorrow morning. I would prefer you put your best foot forward while you speak with me. Auror Tonks?" the woman intoned to the young woman with the spikey pink hair.

'Tonks' practically bounced forwards, an expression of obviously forced amusement plastered to her face. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Stay here and watch over Ms. Potter. She and I have much to discuss and I'd prefer it if she got as much rest as she could before we speak at length. Ensure that she is not disturbed by her housemates; those present excluded; and that the Headmaster does not enter the Hospital Wing to speak with any of the three unless specifically requested by Ms. Potter. It appears that I need to have a nice long chat with Mr. Pettigrew." The woman said, shooting a chilling glare at the Animagus; whom Hermione had just realized was laying prone on the bed across from Aela, still bound in black chains and gagged, a look of extreme terror etched onto his face as he beheld Madam Bones; who was known for being incorruptible and quite strict when it came to upholding the law, the punishments always fitting the crimes, no matter how much money the criminal tried to bribe her with.

The woman paid no mind to Minister Fudge or the Executioner as she flicked her wand, causing Pettigrew to rise off the bed with a whimper before he started floating towards her. Her intense blue eyes locked on Professor Snape for a moment before she addressed him. "Severus, I'll need your strongest vial of Veritaserum, as I don't trust Mr. Pettigrew to speak the truth willingly. Meet me in the Dungeons in ten minutes."

The Potions Master jolted and quickly rushed out of the room, surprising Hermione, as she didn't think anyone past the Headmaster could make him run like that.

A gentle hand landed on Hermione's shoulder, causing her head to snap around to see Madam Pomfrey at her side with a vial of clear liquid. "Drink this, Ms. Granger," the older woman said. "It'll help you sleep. Any talking you need to do is best left for tomorrow."

Hermione wanted to argue, but looking around, she saw that Ron was already out cold and Aela seemed to have finally fallen asleep, her visage looking a fair bit better than when they had entered the Hospital Wing. With a sigh, Hermione nodded her head and tilted her head back, allowing Madam Pomfrey to pour the potion down her throat.

It tasted vaguely of strawberries, a welcome change from the usual horrid tasting potions that one drank to heal one's self. Almost instantly, Hermione felt her body grow heavy, eyes almost slamming shut as she laid back in the bed, Professor McGonagall lifting her legs to place under the sheets after removing her trainers. She turned her head to watch her friend, the girl's raven-hair spread around her skull as she snored softly to Hermione's right.

The last thing Hermione saw was Aela's sleeping form before she too succumbed to sleep.

First things First- Translations:

Bha ag innse dhut Albus! Thuirt mi riut gur e na daoine sin an seòrsa Muggle a bu mhiosa, ach cha do dh'èist thu rium! Agus seall air na thachair dhi! Mhallaich thu, am fuilteach gobhar fuilteach, amadan le clach!"- I told you Albus! I told you those people were the absolute worst kind of Muggle, but you didn't listen to me! And look at what happened to her! Curse you, you bloody goat-buggering, stone-brained fool!

Second:

A Guest (i'm assuming you're a Guest because i'm not seeing a name attached to the comment) commented that I Based Aela Potter on Aela the Huntress from Skyrim. To be perfectly honest, i didn't even think of her until that comment. Her name Aela is the English version of the Greek word 'Aello' which translates into Storm Wind or Whirlwind. And 'Tala' simply means 'she-wolf'...i thought it fit at the time.

Third (because i know y'all are going to ask this):

In my story, there are multiple kinds of Werewolf. Going from most common to least:

Bitten- The most common. They can learn to control themselves during their transformations provided that they actually put the time and effort into learning.

Spelled- These fellows are similar to Native American Skin-Changers in the aspect that their transformation is entirely voluntary and requires a ritual to utilize it. They are in complete control at all times.

Cursed- These poor bastards are; as the named suggests; turned using powerful curses that turn the person in question into lupine monsters with only one goal: Kill or Turn every living being in sight.

Born- Born Werewolves are the Rarest of the Lycanthrope types. As the name suggests, they are born a Werewolf, and as such their Wolf is a part of who they are, granting them a great amount of strength, speed, durability, agility and enhanced senses even when in human form. They are only wild during their first transformations and even then act only as True Wolves do, hostile only to those who threaten them.

Oh, and any Werewolf that uses the Wolf's Bane potion is essentially drugging the Wolf into being Docile, hence why Lupin acted so aggressive towards Hermione, Aela and the others: his Wolf was going through Withdrawal, which made him cranky...er.

Fourth: Several people (you know who you are) have asked me 'Why start in Third Year? Why not start from Year One and go from there?" Honestly? i tried several times and got about half-way through when i realized that Hermione and Ron would notice something was off pretty early the way i was writing it, so i simply backed up and started from the end of third year so i could structure it from there to work how i liked it. Sorry to those who don't like how i wrote it, i'm sorry. It just worked that way for me.

Well, i think that covers everything i needed to say right here so...i guess i'll see you guys later. Ta ta!