Sooo, I figured, why not try my luck at a HP fic? I mean, it's what originally started me on this site and I can't believe I've never tried to write one before. Wait, that's a lie. I have tried to write them; I've just never been happy enough to post them. I'm unsure about this one too but out of all the ones I've written, I like this one the most.

Now, Hermione will probably be OOC, though, I've tried to keep her as close to her character as possible but please keep in mind that my story takes place ten years after the final battle and a lot has changed in Hermione's life. She's still struggling with PTSD and to top it all off, she's a Werewolf. I'm on a creature fix at the moment, hence Hermione being a Werewolf. Sorry if that bothers anyone but it's not like I'm forcing you to read this, now is it?

This is a Sirius/Hermione pairing with side pairings that include Harry/Ginny, Ron/Lavender, George/Angelina, Charlie/OC, Neville/OC, Fred/OC, and Remus/Tonks. This story will include Werewolves, the Veil, True Mates, Potentials, the consequences of suppressed magic, etc. There will be violence, death, and adult themes so if you aren't old enough for that then you should probably find another fic to read.

However, for anyone interested in giving this fic a go I say, hello! Welcome. I really do hope you enjoy it. And, I don't own anything save the plot and any OC's I might create, all other rights belong to Rowling.

Summary: Ten years have passed since the final battle was won and everything has changed for Hermione. She has a new home and a new family but her world is once more tilted on its axis when her two best friends appear in her life once more. With the threat of Greyback looming over her head and a missing pack member, Hermione must return to London and face the life she left behind. Things only become more complicated now that Hermione had begun dreaming about her mate, whom she soon discovers is tightly connected to the Veil. Struggling to control her magic and her PTSD, Hermione not only has to battle her inner demons but her outer ones as well and there's a big chance she might not make it out of the battle this time.

Ten years. It had been ten years since the 'Final Battle' had been 'won'. Ten years since they had buried their loved ones on the once beautiful and pristine grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ten long years since they had lost friends, families, and allies. Ten years since Lavender Brown had been mauled by Fenrir Greyback and saved by Hermione Granger. Since Harry Potter had defeated Voldemort and the Malfoy's had 'defected' to the light side. Ten years since a large number of Death Eaters; Greyback, Dolohov, and Bellatrix amongst them, had escaped, vowing to avenge their fallen leader and finish that which he had started.

Ten years since Hermione Granger had vanished from the wizarding world without a trace.

She hadn't stayed for the funerals, only sticking around long enough to help Madame Pomfrey attend to the wounded. The year spent on the run with the boys had made Hermione very adept at all manner of healing spells. She had avoided Fred's body like the plague; unable to look upon his lifeless body. Besides, Harry and the Weasley's had been with him last she had seen and Hermione had believed herself to be intruding on a moment that was solely for family only.

Hermione had made her way back out onto the grounds once more, helping to search the copious amounts of bodies for anyone who might have miraculously survived. Instead, she had ended up comforting an old enemy, allowing Pansy Parkinson to sob on her shoulder as the corpse of her mother was moved into the castle with all the other bodies.

Hermione could remember feeling sick to her stomach when she had found her childhood bully slumped over her mother's lifeless body, screaming for her to wake up, a silver Death Eater mask thrown hap hazardously aside and the black robes singed and soaked in blood. Hermione had allowed Pansy to beat against her already battered and bruised body; allowed her to scream at her until the girl had simply collapsed into Hermione's arms, begging the other girl to bring her mother back. They weren't friends, but at that moment, they hadn't been enemies either.

For ten years, Hermione had cut off all contact with the wizarding world and anyone in it. She had received multiple owls from Harry, but after sending him the first hastily written letter telling him she just needed to get away from it all, Hermione had stop replying.

She had moved away from London, choosing to settle down in Alaska where the wizarding population was almost non-existent and those that were present barely paid her a second thought. She had created a life for herself and, after almost a decade, had even come to enjoy herself.

Her wand remained untouched, placed carefully in her old Hogwarts trunk, Hermione unable to wield it again after the Final Battle. Even the idea of performing another spell, with or without a wand, had made her nauseous. She had never used an Unforgivable during the battle, but that didn't mean she hadn't killed anyone. And the thought of leaving someone an orphan, perhaps even a student she had been at school with most of her life, made Hermione feel even sicker.

It had taken her two years to even look at one of her DADA textbooks without having a panic attack whenever she read the words werewolf or vampire, not when she remembered seeing a few of both species out that night.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Hermione withdrew from her sombre thoughts, her head turning away from the frosted window and towards the door of her little cottage. The fire crackled away in the decorative fireplace, casting an ethereal glow around her modest living room and partially lighting her face. The heat warmed her and for a moment, Hermione contemplated not answering the door so that the warmth could remain trapped within the confines of her home.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound came again, more insistent this time, and Hermione let out a frustrated sigh as she stood from her perch and made her way to the door on unsteady legs. It would seem she had been sitting on them too long as she couldn't properly feel her feet and hand to tightly grip the back of her sofa to keep herself from falling over.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Just a minute!" she exclaimed, moving her feet back and forth in an attempt to get the blood flowing into them properly again. "Bloody hell," she breathed as the numbness gave way to pins and needles.

Hermione quickly limped over to the door, silently cursing each time the familiar pain shot from her feet and up her legs, reminding her why she shouldn't stay seated in any one place for extended periods of time.

The door swung open to reveal a young boy, no older than thirteen, with wide blue eyes and messy blonde hair that was plastered to his face at the moment. A large gust of wind accompanied a spray of water as the open door allowed some of the rain to enter her home. Even with her slightly raised body temperature, Hermione felt goose bumps form across her exposed skin and visibly shivered.

"Tommy?" Hermione questioned, unbelieving that he was standing in her front door with the weather the way it currently was. "What are you doing outside? Quickly," she urged, opening the door further, "out of the rain."

The young boy didn't waste time as he hurried inside, taking care to wipe the bottom of his shoes on the welcome mat before entering her home. "Sorry about just showing up like this, Mia," he apologized, "but mum's gone into labour and she wanted me to ask if you could mind the shop?"

Hermione's eyes widened at the news before she was telling Tommy to take a seat by the fire as she rushed from the room to get dressed. Hermione practically flew into her bedroom, hurriedly throwing on a pair of jeans, a white, long-sleeved thermal shirt and a thick overcoat. She quickly threw her hair into a half-arsed un before she shoved her fluffy sock covered feet into a pair of worn hiking boots.

"Is she at the hospital? Who's watching the store at the moment? Is she doing okay?

Hermione asked rapidly as she and Tommy left her small cottage and began the short trek to the village.

"Mum's watching the shop…"

"What?!" Hermione shrieked, her amber eyes widening as she quickened her pace, "why hasn't she gone to the hospital yet?"

Tommy shrugged his shoulders, much more level-headed than the older woman beside him, "she couldn't find anyone to mind the shop for her," he explained as his mother's bookshop came into view.

Hermione flew into the store, rushing right up to a heavily breathing woman with similar blonde curls to Tommy. "Lisa?" she asked, gently placing her hand on the woman's back and rubbing soothing circles into the cloth covered skin, "is Henry coming to take you to the hospital?"

"He's just gone home to get my birthing bag," she replied with a pinched smile, "he forgot it in his rush over here."

Both women chuckled at that. Henry was Tommy's father and Lisa's husband. He was a shy man built like a tank who was also the gentlest soul you'd ever meet. Tommy had inherited his icy blue eyes and an abundance of freckles. He was a proud father to Tommy and had spoken of nothing but his unborn twins for months now.

"I've got it!" his booming voice suddenly said, the deep baritone slightly squeaky and severely out of breath as he burst through the door.

"Are you sure you don't mind watching the store, Mia?" Lisa asked between contractions, looking at Hermione with no small degree of gratitude.

Hermione smiled, leading the woman over to her husband who nodded his head in thanks as she wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders. "I've got everything under control and I don't mind in the slightest. But I want pictures the moment you've taken them," she added with a playful scolding tone, "you have my number, right?"

"Sure do," Henry answered, helping Lisa out the door as Tommy trailed behind, anxiety and elation beginning to show on his young face.

After they had left, the store was plunged into silence and Hermione signed as she made her way into the back of the store to put the kettle on. She rubbed her hands together to create warmth as the small heater tried in vain to heat the store. As Hermione went around stacking books, she hummed to herself, the tune a haunting Russian lullaby she had heard one of the Durmstrang students singing during her fourth year. She didn't know what the words meant but she found the eerie melody to be strangely soothing.

As she hummed, Hermione thought about her parents. She had tracked them down after the war only to learn from a neighbour that they had died in a car accident a few months after they had moved in. Their deaths had shocked her to the core. Mental, Hermione had prepared herself for their death's but she had always imagined it would be at the hands of Death Eater's that might have managed to find them. She never even imagined they'd died such a muggle death. She had mourned over their incorrectly named graves before she had sought comfort in the bottom of a bottle of fire whiskey.

Once again, Hermione was drawn from her morose thoughts by the sound of someone entering the store. The little bell above the door alerted her to their presence and Hermione walked around one of the stacks, her mouth opened to welcome them when she saw who it was.

Her lips turned down in a frown as she looked at the middle-aged man standing in front of her. "What do you want, David?" she asked with a heavy sigh.

"Full moon's tonight," he replied, eyeing her knowingly and undeterred by her snappish tone. Hermione bristled at the attention but kept her chin down in a sign of submission. "I've set up the clearing for the night," David continued, "you'll need to be there before the moon rises; same as usual."

"Lisa went into labour and I promised I'd watch the store for her," Hermione protested, unwilling to let David know she had actually forgotten about tonight's full moon. They may be friends but she knew he'd never let her live it down if he found out.

"I've called Kathy," David grunted, his eyes narrowing as he took Hermione in, "she'll be here before nightfall to mind the place."

Kathy was Henry's older sister, a sweet woman who just so happened to be David's wife and mate.

Hermione had been beyond shocked to learn that a small werewolf pack lived in the modest village. She had been hiking in the woods one night, unable to sleep after nightmares of Bellatrix torturing her had left her screaming herself hoarse. She hadn't even paid attention to the full moon that night, naïve enough to think there couldn't possibly be any magical creatures in the village she had chosen to reside in.

It had been one of the younger wolves; a teenage boy that had just come into his werewolf genes and was experiencing the shift for the first time. The older wolves had had their hands full with a bunch of younger wolves and he had managed to slip out of the clearing they used for the full moons. He had found her and Hermione had been unable to get away from him.

She could still remember the absolute fear she had felt when she had spied the fully transformed werewolf, her mind flooding with images of a semi-transformed Greyback leaning over the body of Lavender brown as he tore into the younger girl's throat. Her body had physically recoiled when she had drawn his attention and had seen him sniffing the air. He had done something very similar when the Snatchers had caught them moments before they had been apparated to Malfoy Manor.

Greyback had almost begged for Bellatrix to hand her over to him, Hermione vaguely hearing the words Potential and rare being mentioned in the conversation before all she could focus on was the mind-numbing pain.

The young wolf, Andrew she had come to learn his name was, had tackled Hermione to the ground and had managed to take a large bite out of her before David had tackled him. Somehow, the wolves of David's pack had learnt to control their wolves without the use of Wolfsbane.

He had said it had helped to be in the pack, each member drawing strength from the next and helping each other with their transitions. Apart from the werewolves who had yet to reach full maturity, Hermione was the only unmated member of the pack. David had even taken the time out of his busy life to explain to her what Potentials were when she had finally stopped freaking out about everything that had happened.

"A Potential is a person, wolf or not, that can be mated to any werewolf without actually being their True Mate," he had told her. "They can still have a True Mate, but if they never found them and decided they wished to be mated, they could easily find a suitable candidate. Their scent calls to unmated werewolves."

He had gone on to explain to her how Potentials could even have multiple mates and Hermione had promptly started freaking out again. The fact that she was now a werewolf only made her scent stronger; the only thing stronger being the scent of another werewolf's True Mate. There was another Potential amongst their group, a sixteen-year-old boy named Holland. David had ordered that both Hermione and Holland weren't to be pressured by any other member of their pack; past, present, or future.

Hermione had locked herself away in her cabin for the whole month after she had been bitten. She barely ate, she barely slept, she barely moved. It was only when David had literally kicked her door down and given her a direct order to start taking care of herself that Hermione had started to get better. For the whole six months she had previously been living in the village prior to her attack, she had only truly met David when he had broken into her house.

David had been surprised to learn that the newest member of his pack was not only a witch but a war veteran. Both he and Andrew had apologised for the events of that night before David had sat her down and given her the rundown of how her life was going to be from then on out.

Everything she had learned had been so wrong. She had believed that the lycanthropy was uncontrollable, but David's pack could partially transform at will and managed to keep most of their senses on the full moon. She had known about mates but she hadn't been aware of Potentials and just how seriously mates were taken in a pack. A lot of the members of David's pack had come from all over the globe in search of a place where they could be accepted; muggles who had been bitten and natural born werewolves made up their group. Their mates travelled with them, finding work amongst the villagers and taking the bite when, and if, they chose to.

"You forgot, didn't you?"

Hermione jumped at the sound of David speaking, mentally cursing herself for zoning out. Again. She had been doing that a lot lately, finding herself becoming completely oblivious to her surroundings as she became lost in thought.

"Of course not," she huffed. David sent her a raised eyebrow and Hermione pouted, "maybe… a little." She could feel her face flush with embarrassment and glared up at her Alpha when he chuckled, "it's not funny."

"I think you'll find, Mia," he began, rolling her pseudo name around on his tongue, "that if our situations were reversed, you'd find it quite amusing too."

Hermione only grunted as she moved back to the stacks she had been organising when David had walked in. "So, something peculiar found its way to my home this morning," David began, following Hermione into the stacks, his head cocked slightly as he studied the brunette in front of him.

"Really?" Hermione answered, not really paying that much attention as she placed a few books back on the shelf in their correct location. The smell of old and new books perforated the air, assaulting Hermione's senses along with the thick layer of dust that layered the top of the bookshelves; Lisa too short and too pregnant to actually reach them so they could be cleaned.

She vaguely heard the sound of paper crumbling and fabric shifting before a small white envelope was being shoved into her face by the older wolf. "An owl was sitting at my kitchen window this morning and seemed determined not to leave until I took this from it," David explained as Hermione's eyes widened when they landed on her name written in a neat scrawl she didn't really recognise.

"It's one of them witch friends of yours, yeah?" he questioned her, waving the letter in front of her before snatching it away as she went to reach for it.

Hermione growled lowly at him, her temper on the fritz due to the full moon, only to bow her head and whimper in submission when his eyes flashed gold and a deep growl left his own lips. David was a lenient Alpha but he wouldn't allow disrespect directed at him or any of his pack members. "I don't recognise the handwriting," she answered him sourly, turning back to the bookshelf as she tried to forget about the stupid letter.

"Hermione," David began, clearing his throat, "I know Harry and Ron stopped writing to you a few months ago and figured I would give it a try. It's Lavender, by the way, Lavender Brown."

Hermione almost tackled David in her attempt to take the letter from him, the older man wrapping a strong arm around her waist as he held the letter away from his body and out of her reach. Hermione was confused about why Lavender Brown of all people was writing to her, but she ignored her curiosity in favour of trying to get the letter off of David.

"David!" she scolded, struggling against his hold as her eyes flashed and she tried to reach the small piece of parchment.

"Everyone misses you here," David continued as if he wasn't trying to hold her back, "and I thought you'd like to know… Bellatrix is dead…"

Hermione froze as David read the words, her heart beat increased even as a cold chill ran down the length of her body. A burning fire seemed to radiate from her scarred arm as it always did at the mention or thought of the witch who had tortured her. Bellatrix had managed to flee the final battle after threatening to end Ginny's life when the younger girl had managed to land a slicing curse on the deranged woman. Hermione still had nightmares of the disturbed witch finding her and torturing her again.

"She tried to attack Ginny when she and Mrs Weasley had visited Diagon Alley. You should have seen Molly, I've never seen her so furious. Bellatrix didn't even see the two curses that Molly sent her way."

Even though she was surprised at the news that it had been Molly that had ended Bellatrix's life, Hermione felt like a weight had been lifted from her heart. Unfortunately, this didn't stop the icy claws of panic that gripped tightly at her chest. Flashes of black curls and the remnants of a high-pitched cackle permeated the air. Pain. All she had felt was pain; pain and fear. Fear so deep it still clung to her bones all these years later. Her chest seized and suddenly Hermione couldn't breathe.

Her eyes were glazed, tears burning their way down her rapidly paling cheeks, as she tried to draw in air. She felt her knees buckle and David's hold on her tighten. His deep growl rumbled through her ear, David well aware of just who Bellatrix Lestrange was and the past Hermione shared with her. She had, after all, told him everything.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he breathed into her hair, smelling her distress and relief as it rolled off of her in waves, "I shouldn't have read it."

Hermione shook her head against his chest, his scent helping to calm her enough to get words out. "It's fine," she mumbled, "c-can you finish it? P-please?"

She felt him nod, his grip on her unchanging as he lifted the letter to continue. "That's not the only reason I'm writing to you, Hermione. The main reason for this letter is to warn you. No one wanted to tell you but I think you deserve to be informed…"

Hermione felt David growl lowly and looked up to see his eyes flashing a brilliant gold as he glared fiercely at the letter. "What is it?" she asked hesitantly.

"…he's coming for you, Hermione. Greyback is coming for you and he won't stop until he's found you."

Once again fear gripped her, but Hermione forced it down as her Alpha continued to read, his own body shaking and his voice an octave lower as his temper rose.

"We received word that he's become obsessed with you; something about your scent. I'm writing this because you need to be prepared. You saved my life that night and I can never return the favour, but I can do the right thing and warn you that you're in danger.

"Please, Hermione, come home where we can keep you safe," Lavender practically begged in the letter, "come home so we can keep you far from Greyback. Lavender."

Hermione hadn't realised she had begun crying again until David was wiping away the salty tears that fell down her cheeks. His grey eyes were serious and concerned as they gazed down at her. "I won't let him hurt you, Hermione," he promised, his voice a snarl as he thought about the danger his beta was in. Magical or not, every werewolf knew who Fenrir Greyback was, and David knew what would become of Hermione if Greyback ever got his claws on her.

"What if, by being here, I'm putting the pack in danger, David?" she asked him sadly, "Greyback won't hesitate to kill everyone in the village to get to me," she continued as she reluctantly pulled away from his embrace so she could make her way into the back of the store where the kettle had long since been forgotten.

She turned on the small appliance with a shaky sigh, silently wishing she could return to her cottage and bury herself under her blankets so she could hide away from the world. Hermione almost whimpered when she realised all the emotions, she was attempting to push down would come back three-fold tonight when the moon was out. She had already been feeling the small slips on her control that accompanied every shift, her wolf growling restlessly as she itched to stretch her limbs.

Hermione clamped down on the restless stirring and turned her focus back to making a cup of chamomile and lavender tea.

"We won't let that happen," David assured her, following her into the small kitchen that barely housed her small frame let alone his large one, as a frown marred his face.

"Greyback is the strongest and oldest werewolf in the world," Hermione groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she felt a headache coming on. She just wanted to run; run until she couldn't run anymore and just keep running. "His magic only makes him more dangerous," she continued heavily, "maybe it's best if I leave; I can't hide from him forever but I can make sure he never gets anywhere near the pack…"

Rough, calloused hands gently gripping her shoulders cut off her rambling as she was turned so she faced a broad chest. David had well over a good foot on five feet and four inches and Hermione was forced to look up when he paced a hand under her chin and lifted it so their eyes met.

"That's never going to happen, Hermione," he said deeply, "you're not going anywhere, do you understand me? I won't allow you to run from another home, especially after the progress you've made here. Besides, we have something Greyback hasn't. We've got a pack bond. Each and every one of us would lay down our lives to keep one another safe," David told her passionately, truth ringing behind every word, "Greyback may have a pack but it's a pack built on fear, and fear can only get you so far in situations like ours," he replied softly, his eyes searching hers for something. He apparently found it, because the next moment he was pulling Hermione into his chest, his arms wrapping around her in a tight embrace.

Hermione breathed in the scent of her Alpha, a familiar, earthy aroma that never failed to make her feel safe. It had taken her a while to get used to the assault on her senses that came with being a werewolf but when she had, she had managed to find comfort in certain smells.

Her body wash, for instance, smelt of vanilla and cinnamon; the smell always reminding her of when she would spend Christmas at the Burrow. Her shampoo smelt of strawberries, a scent that reminded her of the strawberry patch her mother used to grow in the back yard. Then there was the familiar earthy aroma that seemed to linger on every werewolf in their pack. Marcus, before he had found his mate, had told her that being a Potential meant she also smelt faintly of something each werewolf found comforting. This smell was obviously stronger with their True Mate which is how they managed to differentiate.

David smelt of whiskey, cologne, and the earth, a heady aroma she had grown accustomed to over the years.

"It's okay to miss that life, Hermione," David continued, rubbing soothing circles into her back. Hermione didn't know how, but he always had the uncanny ability to know when more than one thing was bothering you. She was missing her family; she had been more and more for months now. It was like there was an invisible rope tugging on her chest, trying to tell her to return to London; trying to tell her she'd find what she was looking for there. But she didn't know what she was looking for. David's hold on her tightened as if he sensed her thoughts, "those people… those places… they're a big part of who you are. Why don't you talk to them? Go see them?"

"I was going to," Hermione mumbled into his chest, burying her nose into his shirt as one of his hands moved to stroke her slightly frizzy curls. Hermione listened to the sound of his steadily beating heart, trying to get hers to match his as she continued, "I was going to return to them after a year away; after I had managed to deal with everything that had happened."

"Why didn't you then?"

"Because even after a year, I wasn't her anymore. I wasn't Hermione Granger, one-third of the Golden Trio. I was fragmented, with pieces here and there missing. Like an incomplete puzzle," she explained. She sighed, looking up into his grey eyes again. "Because of this," she continued, flashing her golden eyes, "because I didn't know if I could control myself around them and I'd never forgive myself if I ever hurt one of them."

"You've gotten a lot better than how you were when you first joined the pack, Hermione," David replied, "and you got control over your wolf six years ago."

"And I found a pack," she stated simply, "pack is family, and I've lost enough people in my life, I wasn't going to lose all of you too."

She felt David sigh, "but what did you give up for the pack, Hermione? Your best friends? A bright future?"

"I just… wait a minute," she stood back, "have you been reading my books again?"

David grinned cheekily before he let go of Hermione completely and strode out of the room.

"David!" Hermione called after him, rushing out after him only to see him disappear out of the door. She huffed angrily, her hands resting on her hips before she threw them into the air with an affectionate and exasperated smile before she made her way back into the small room connected to the store so she could finish her tea.

Kathy arrived precisely one hour before sunset, her cheeks and nose flushed from the cold. The older woman, who was in her mid-forties, was absolutely gorgeous. Long, fine, red hair was thrown into a messy ponytail that still managed to reach the small of her back. Her skin was light and creamy and a small smackering of freckles dusted her nose. Her warm, honey eyes shone with kindness and mischief and her lips seemed to be turned up in a permanent smile or smirk.

When Hermione had first met the woman, she had been quite aloof. The fact that the red hair and the mischievous smile only reminded her of the twins made it especially hard for Hermione to be in the same room as the woman for any extended amount of time. When David had confronted her about it, Kathy thinking she had done something to offend Hermione, the younger woman had been forced to explain everything. Kathy had understood completely, but instead of avoiding Hermione, she came over more frequently, knowing that in some weird way, Hermione found comfort in her appearance as well.

"Hello, Hermione," she greeted, one of the few to know her real name. As the mate of her Alpha, Hermione knew David wouldn't have been able to keep her identity a secret from Kathy. All of the non-wolf mates knew who she was, but they kept her secret from those who weren't pack.

"Good evening, Kathy, how's Lisa?" Hermione replied, giving the older woman a hug?

Kathy smiled softly, "almost fully dilated, the poor dear, she was swearing up a storm when I left." The women shared a chuckle before Kathy was hurrying Hermione from the store, "off you go now, dear," she said, "best not to keep my stubborn husband waiting."

"No," Hermione muttered good-naturedly, "we couldn't have that, now could we?"

The trek through the woods was over quickly, Hermione capable of taking the trip in her sleep if need be. She broke through the trees and entered a small clearing filled with a dozen other people. Four of those twelve were teenagers who were roughhousing at the furthest corner of the clearing; laughing as they were tackled to the ground before they quickly gained the upper hand. The other eight were the older pack members, Hermione included, ranging from twenty to well over a hundred thanks to werewolf longevity.

Hermione's eyes quickly fell on David and his second in command, Marcus. Marcus was the eldest of the pack and one of the last to find his mate. Sophie, a fiery fifty-three-year-old werewolf, had stumbled upon Marcus' scent a few months earlier. She had come to Alaska when she had heard word of a werewolf pack there.

Marcus and David were talking in hushed tones, occasionally throwing looks around the clearing before their eyes landed on her. David threw her a smile before drawing his attention back to the older werewolf and Hermione shrugged her shoulders. She made her way over to the small group of teens and leaned against the trunk of a tree as she watched them spar.

Contrary to what others believed, children born to werewolves weren't entirely immune to it. When they hit puberty, some would inherit wolfish qualities and others would actually begin their transformations. Regardless of age, the transformations were unpleasant, but David had taught them a way to make it as quick as possible. The teenagers before her had yet to learn to become one with their wolves and when the moon rose in less than an hour, they would be lost to their wolves. It would then be the responsibility of the pack to make sure none of them left the clearing until they were back in their human forms.

"Do you want a go, Hermione?" asked one of the teens, Logan, looking up at her through his dark bangs. Even in human form, Logan resembled a puppy. He had brown eyes framed by thick lashes and a mop of brown curls that fell over his face.

"I'm fine, pup," she nodded, not leaving her spot against the tree, "perhaps another night?"

Logan merely shrugged before he was roughly tackled by Caleb, the most recent to go through the change. This full moon would only be Caleb's third and if that wasn't bad enough, his wolf had a bigger temper than his human half did. Caleb would often times get into fights with members of the pack, determined to show dominance over the other betas. David had tried to show him a calmer path but the teen boy seemed reluctant to quell his temper.

Hermione was happy to watch the youngest of their pack play. Time went by quickly and soon enough, David was calling for them to prepare themselves.

She made her way over to her own secluded area and began removing her clothes. Hermione had long since gotten over her shyness when it came to being naked around the pack but chose to undress in private whenever a new member was introduced. Whilst he was pack and pack was family, Caleb would attempt to leer at her body more often than she was comfortable with.

She removed her top, revealing the scarred remains of Andrew's bite on her shoulder and a few more scattered scars from her first few transformations. Mudblood was still as visible on her arm as it had been the day it was carved into her skin and so was the cut on her neck from when Bellatrix had used her as a scare tactic for the boys. The purple markings from the curse Dolohov had sent at her at the end of fifth year contrasted sharply with her creamy skin and had garnered quite a bit of attention from the pack. So much so, that David had asked her one night is she would be willing to share her story with them. It had taken her a couple of years and an entire bottle of whiskey, but eventually, she did so.

They all had scars in one way or another, each one telling the story about a struggle they had faced in life. The pack had helped Hermione come to terms with her own past and as a result, her PTSD had gotten progressively better as the years passed by. She still suffered from the occasional nightmare and certain sounds still managed to set off her panic attacks but David had assured her that any progress was good progress.

The scars weren't the only thing showcased on her body, however. Hermione, in a bout of recklessness, had even gotten a tattoo. David had snorted when she had proudly shown him the wolf howling at a full moon that took up the entire left side of her torso. The wolf was coloured a deep chestnut to reflect her own wolf form, the eyes a piercing golden hue to match her own. It was a physical representation of her wolf and had made both halves of herself feel closer somehow.

A large hand on her shoulder had Hermione turning to look at David, "Marcus and I want to speak to you in the morning, think you'll be up to it?" he asked her, his eyes never wavering from her own. Hermione nodded and David grinned, "good, because you're responsible for Caleb tonight."

Hermione bit her tongue to keep from groaning as she allowed the information to sink in. Her eyes trailed away from David and to the teen sitting off from the rest of the pack, his eyes narrowed at a spot on the ground as he sat on a patch of grass. "Okay," she muttered.

"You've got this," David assured her.

"He rarely listens to anyone but you, David," she mumbled, "and he's a volatile wolf."

David sighed, "he just needs guidance and a level head, someone stubborn enough not to give up on him." David winked at her, "and I've never met anyone quite as stubborn as you, Hermione."

She slapped his bare chest playfully before they turned and David addressed the whole pack. He informed everyone of what would be happening that night and which wolves were in charge of the youngest of their pack. Caleb's head shot up and his gaze had landed on Hermione when he had heard she would be watching out for him. She heard him grumble a few choice curses under his breath before his head shot back to the ground and he glared at a nearby cluster of rocks.

When the moon was high, the transformation began. Hermione groaned as the familiar pain of her bones reforming spread throughout her body like a wildfire. Bit by bit, her body sprouted chestnut fur, her face elongated, and her canines grew and sharpened. Twenty minutes later and a full-grown wolf stood in place of the woman.

Hermione allowed herself a moment to gather her bearings, her sight adjusting to that of her wolfs and her ears and nose being assaulted with sounds and smells. She could hear animals running through the trees, trying to get away from the clearing as they sensed the new danger. Her ears twitched as she heard the growls and barks of her pack members before her eyes sought out her charge.

Caleb was smaller than Hermione, mainly due to his young age and the fact he had yet to reach maturity. His black fur and similarly golden eyes made him an intimidating wolf. He was snarling and pacing, anger rolling off of him in waves and Hermione was reminded that he had yet to master control and his wolf was fully in control right now.

She made her way over to him, growling lowly when he snarled at her. Hermione had learnt a long time ago why she shouldn't submit to the younger wolves. David had taken her aside the next morning a couple of years after she had arrived to tell her that if she was going to get any respect from the younger pups of the pack, she would have to show them her dominant side.

Hermione flattened her ears to her head, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on edge as she and Caleb circled each other before Caleb made a lunge for her.

Having expected this, Hermione quickly dodged to the side, watching as Caleb stumbled before righting himself and turning back to her, eyes alight with anger, but also playfulness. His wolf wanted to play with her and Hermione mentally breathed a sigh of relief as her defensive growl turned into a playful yip and she eagerly wagged her tail back and forth before she pounced on the younger wolf.

They roughhoused back and forth for a couple of hours before Caleb fell asleep. Hermione laid next to him, her head resting on her crossed paws as her eyes slowly drifted closed.

She was running in her human form; everything around her was in greyscale like all the colours had been drained from the world. Everything looked wrong; distorted. Almost like a mirror image of the world they lived in.

She was deep within the Ministry of Magic, running down empty halls, her breathing laboured as she searched for something.

"Help me."

The voice was featherlight and familiar, coming from everywhere and yet nowhere. Hermione turned down another corridor, catching a glimpse of a person turning the corner at the end of the hall.

"Help me, Mia."

Only a handful of people in the wizarding world even knew that nickname and hearing it coming from the owner of the voice made her heart speed up to an almost painful pace. Hermione reached the end of the hall where she paused in front of a vaguely familiar door. At the sight of it, her whole body froze and her heart sank with dread.

Before she could think on it, strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her into a hard chest.

"Help me!"

Pop!

Hermione and Caleb startled awake at the sudden noise that rung out in the usually quite forest that surrounded them. She could hear the younger wolves snarling and dazedly turned to block Caleb as he made to move forward. Her mind was still slightly foggy, bits and pieces of the dream coming to her in greyscale flashes. A howl of pain drew Hermione's attention to Marcus who had been bitten by Logan as the pup tried to get out of the clearing to investigate the sound. Sophie was backing him into a tree, snarling at him as her head darted from the pup to her mate and back again.

Hermione's momentary distraction was enough for Caleb to bolt into the trees and she caught a flash of tail before he vanished. She went after him immediately but feared that Caleb might find the source of the noise before she could reach him. Caleb wasn't the biggest wolf in their pack by far, but he was the fastest. Every time she thought she would catch him, he managed to get that bit further out of her reach.

The closer they got to the sound of the pop! the more sounds reached their ears. They were distinctly human, two men and a woman. Hermione couldn't make out exactly what they were saying but that didn't matter. Her mind flashed back to the night Andrew had chased her down and she pushed herself to go faster.

She heard a loud curse and a feminine scream; no doubt Caleb had broken into their line of sight. Hermione was shortly behind him and caught a flash or red and blonde before she was tackling Caleb moments before he tried to pounce on one of the men. She felt his teeth tear into her front leg and howled angrily as she used her muzzle to bat him off.

Hermione got to her paws before she was quickly tackling Caleb again, this time to protect him from a red flash of light. Her golden eyes raised to their attackers, very much aware that she was dealing with wizards before she felt the air leave her lungs. She was staring down the line of a wand, a very familiar wand. Harry's wand.

Another blur entered the small clearing and Hermione turned to see her Alpha growling at the witch and two wizards; Harry, Ron, and Lavender. Hermione placed herself between the two wizards and her Alpha, bowing her head in submission to him whilst using herself as a barrier. She growled lowly at Caleb when she saw the young wolf move closer out of the corner of her eye and the pup wisely kept his distance. She met her Alpha's eyes, silently communicating with him.

He nodded once at her before his eyes met Caleb's and he growled again, this one an order to get back to the clearing. Thankfully, the moon would begin setting any moment now. Her Alpha gave her one last look before he led Caleb into the forest and back to their pack's clearing.

Hermione turned back to the three surprise guests; her best friends and Lavender Brown. The years had certainly been kind to them but now wasn't the time to study them further. Harry still had his wand pointed at her and Hermione battled with her wolf momentarily as it became defensive once more. Ron's wand was at his side, ready to use if Harry needed him.

She took a cautious step towards them and watched as Harry's hand twitched minutely, though, no spell was cast so she took that as a good sign. Hermione continued to take small, measured steps, her ears flattened to her head and her tail tucked between her legs.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, his blue eyes wide as they looked at her, "stun it already."

"I don't think it wants to hurt us, Ron," Harry replied, dropping his wand arm slightly so Hermione could see he meant no real harm.

"Besides," Lavender added, speaking for the first time, "stunning her wouldn't do anything except piss her off."

"What the hell are you talking about, Lav?" Ron questioned.

"She's a werewolf, Ron," Lavender replied, rolling her eyes, the blue irises surrounded by a faintly glowing gold band. She looked up and removed her purple velvet cloak as she watched the moon closely.

"No, she's not," Ron retorted, "werewolves don't look like that, we've seen Remus transformed."

Hermione's inner wolf howled at the mention of Remus, recognising him as pack even though she hadn't been a werewolf when she had last seen him and Tonks.

"Remus fights the wolf," Lavender explained as she took a cautious step towards Hermione. Hermione took a step back, growling involuntarily and seeing Ron stiffen as he took a subconscious step towards Lavender. "This is a werewolf that's embraced their wolf," she continued, stopping a few steps away from Hermione, "the wolf and the human are in control and the shift is both easier and more extensive."

Hermione felt the familiar tingle of her body shifting. She raised her head and saw the moon was slowly disappearing behind the trees. She howled, hearing her pack members do the same; it was their way of sending the moon off, saying goodbye until the next full moon. Corny, but something David had always done since his transformation thirty years earlier.

Her bones reshaped themselves and Hermione heard three sharp inhales of air in front of her as she slowly stood. Transforming back was always faster than when she turned into a wolf but the experience was no less disorientating.

"Hermione?"

She barely had a moment to get her senses in order before she was being crushed to a firm chest. Her arms were awkwardly, and painfully, pressed to her breasts as Harry's familiar black hair invaded her line of sight. Through the messy strands, she could see Ron and Lavender gaping at her. She managed to wiggle her arms free and wrapped them around Harry as she tightened their embrace.

She could feel warm liquid dampening her bare shoulder and heard the muffled sobs of her best friend and brother. Hermione gently shushed him, even as her own eyes watered, her hands clinging to his robes as she tried to pull him closer.

"'Mione?"

Her eyes lifted to Ron's and she smiled hesitantly at him as he took a cautious step forward, unsure how to react after he had just witnessed a werewolf turning into his best friend. Hermione grabbed him and pulled him into their hug, her eyes snapping to Lavender when she heard the younger woman growl lowly. She was blushing when Hermione's eyes landed on her, like she was embarrassed by what she had just done. For a moment, Hermione couldn't figure out why but she chose to come back to it later, too happy that she was seeing her best friends after ten long years.

When they broke apart, Hermione watched as Harry and Ron's eyes looked her over before their faces turned a very deep shade of red and they quickly averted their eyes. She furrowed her eyebrows before she too looked down and realised, she was naked again and no longer had fur covering her body. Harry rubbed his neck awkwardly as Ron whistled, his eyes never leaving the treetops as they both took a small step away from her.

Lavender seemed to find this amusing because Hermione heard her giggle as she stepped forward and offered Hermione her cloak. Hermione gave her a small, grateful smile as she put the cloak on, fastening the clasp and using her hands to keep it closed.

Hermione could hear pained howls and she flinched, knowing it was the pups who had yet to make the transitions faster. They'd be turning human bit by bit for the next hour or so and she didn't want to leave them but she knew they could still be a danger to her friends,

Voice still adjusting to human vocal cords again, Hermione motioned for everyone to follow her. Watching as Harry and Ron stored their wands in their holsters before they went to open their mouths. A warning look from Lavender seemed to shut Ron up and the red-haired man elbowed Harry to get his best friend to follow his actions.

Harry wasn't happy with not being able to get everything off his chest just yet. They had come here in hopes of finding Hermione. Luna Lovegood, now Scamander, had given them a tracking spell that was supposed to take them right to Hermione. Harry thought he had done something wrong when the three of them had landed in the middle of some forest. Now, he wanted to know what the hell had happened in ten years because the woman currently walking in front of them looked like his best friend and yet… didn't.

He could hear Ron grumbling behind him and Lavender's muffled "would you just be quiet!" as they continued to hike through the forest, trying to keep up with Hermione.

They had been walking for twenty minutes when they saw it. A small log cabin on the furthest outskirts of a small village, still hidden by the trees. He watched as Hermione walked up to the door and turned the nob, not needing to unlock it.

"Guess crimes are really low here," he muttered to himself. He heard Hermione snort and his lips twitched as he followed her into the house.

The cottage was modest and yet homely. The first room they entered was the living room lined with bookshelves that were stacked with books. A large, tan sofa sat in the middle of the room with a white, faux fur throw thrown over it. A small, dark wood, coffee table sat in front of the sofa, a long-forgotten cup of tea sitting on its surface. Below the coffee table was a thick, earthy brown shag rug and there was also a modestly sized television sitting in the corner of the room.

By the window was a reading nook, a copy of Wuthering Heights resting innocently on the window sill.

Then there was the fireplace, more specifically, the mantel above the fireplace. Harry slowly walked over to the mantel, his gaze on the photos that lined it. There was a photo of Hermione's parents, a younger Hermione standing between them with a large smile that showed off her once too big front teeth. Next was a photo of him, Ron, and Hermione in their second years; another in their third, fourth, fifth, and sixth years. Beside that was a photo of the D.A. and another group photo featuring people Harry didn't recognise.

In the middle stood Hermione, who had changed greatly in the ten years since he had last seen her. She was smiling in the photo, a smile he hadn't seen since the beginning of the war. Harry felt jealousy course through him at the thought that his best friend had found happiness in other people when she hadn't been able to find it with him. When Hermione had left, he had wanted to be angry with her, but after he had received her first and only letter with her reasoning, he had only been capable of feeling sad. He had felt like he was losing the closest thing he had had to a sister and he hadn't known what to do or how to cope with it.

The sound of bare feet padding across the hardwood floor had Harry turning to see Hermione making her way down the hall. Ron was distracted by the photos that lined the walls and Lavender seemed to be making tea in the kitchen. Harry wanted to follow Hermione, to demand answers, but he knew just how dangerous that could be and didn't want to chance it.

As he stood there, Harry couldn't help but feel things were about to change. Ginny would say it was his Auror training making him even more paranoid. The statement would be accompanied by an affectionate roll of her eyes as she kissed his cheek.

Ginny. His wife of almost seven years. The mother of his first-born son, James, and unborn child who was due to be born within the next few months. His rock when he felt like everything was becoming too much for him to bare. He had been distraught that Hermione had missed his wedding and the birth of his first child; a month ago, something in him had snapped and he was determined that Hermione wouldn't miss the birth of his second child or any future children he and Ginny had. Ginny had instantly agreed with his plan to find her; she and Hermione had grown closer during the holidays where they had shared a room.

In the bedroom, Hermione was hiding away in her ensuite bathroom, trying to calm her racing heart. She still couldn't believe Harry, Ron, and Lavender was in her living room. They were here. Elation, fear, hesitation, love, and affection coursed through her body and wreaked havoc on her emotions especially so shortly after the full moon. Her wolf was just as anxious as she was, fear of being rejected by those she considered pack making her wolf pace restlessly in her head.

Knowing she couldn't hide in her bathroom forever, Hermione quickly threw on a pair of old sweat pants and an oversized Weasley sweater that George had given her in fourth year when he and Fred had found her working late in the library. She made her way back into the living room, pausing in the doorway to look at the two boys.

Harry had filled out over the years; his body still lean but showcasing all new muscles then when she had last seen him. His dark hair still remained uncontrollably messy and his familiar circular glasses drew her attention to his forest green eyes. She breathed in deeply, the smell of broomstick polish, a spicy cologne that tickled her nose, and a distinctly feminine smell that she couldn't quite pinpoint but was oddly familiar filled her nose from his direction. He was staring at his callused hands, twisting his fingers nervously as his eyes flickered around her living room every now and again, his knees bouncing in front of him.

Ron was almost exactly how she remembered, his hair was a little longer now, and he sported a well-groomed, not too long, beard. His blue eyes looked up as he heard her approach and she could see relief, anger, and anxiety reflected in them when they met her own. His scent made her pause and cock her head, watching curiously as he flushed when he noticed her sniff the air. He smelt like cookies and the earth. Like pack. The scent was faint, like the human mates of their pack. A 'mate' mark. Ron was with or had been with, a werewolf.

"Can you stop scenting us?" he muttered, his ears, face, and neck a bright red as his eyes looked at anything but her, "Lavender does it too and it's just strange."

"Hey!" Lavender exclaimed from where she had just exited the kitchen with a tray of tea and biscuits. "Hope you don't mind, Hermione," she told the older woman as she placed the tray on the coffee table, "I sort of helped myself to your kitchen. Don't worry though, I put everything back exactly where I found it."

Lavender Brown. If anyone had changed it was definitely her. She still had that obvious beauty that Hermione had envied at school, but she seemed less inclined to show it off now. Hermione didn't miss the scarring that disappeared into her shirt, the remnants of Greyback's attack on her. Her hair was shorter too, cut to just above her shoulder and curled to shape her face.

Hermione's eyes widened as everything began to click into place. Lavender's gold-ringed eyes. The growl she had heard come from the younger woman when Hermione had hugged Ron, even if she had been embarrassed by it afterwards. The fact that Hermione could distinctly smell the same earthy scent on Lavender as she did with the other werewolves of her pack. Lavender might not be a full werewolf, but she definitely had enough lycanthrope qualities for Hermione's wolf to pick up on. The fact that Lavender was keeping her head tilted down in a sign of submission also tipped her off; Lavender was an omega. A wolf without a pack and the lycanthrope traits she had inherited helped her to identify Hermione as a beta and therefore a stronger, more dangerous opponent should they ever fight.

Her eyes returned to Ron who fidgeted under her gaze before he nodded at her silent question, his hand coming up to his neck to rub at it nervously. That's when Hermione noticed the mating mark and she practically vaulted the coffee table to get to Ron, tilting his head to the side and pulling his shirt aside so she could study the bite. Hermione ignored whatever protest Ron was trying to stutter out unsuccessfully as she continued to look at the bite. The earth scent was strongest near the mark, no doubt from Lavender scenting it often enough for other werewolves to recognise him as off limits.

"You're her mate," Hermione breathed, releasing Ron and taking a step back to sit heavily on the coffee table. Everyone was surprised how sensual and husky her voice sounded but Hermione paid them no mind as her eyes flickered from his mark to a nervously shuffling Lavender Brown. Ron and Harry watched her cautiously before she surprised everyone by smiling brightly. "This is fantastic," she exclaimed, "Congratulations to the both of you!"

"T-thanks 'Mione," Ron mumbled, his face darkening further then she thought possible as Lavender sat beside him, smiling softly at Hermione.

"And Harry," she started, snapping to her other best friend who was watching their exchange with no small amount of amusement. His eyes widened when she was suddenly inches from his face, wondering when Hermione had stopped being bothered by personal space, "you're married!"

He spluttered at the simple statement; not because it wasn't true, but because she had known it without him telling her. Seeing his flustered state, Hermione had grinned wolfishly at him. "How?" he managed to get out.

"Your scent," Hermione, Ron, and Lavender answered simultaneously.

"Huh?"

Hermione's grin only widened, "I can smell a feminine scent on you," she explained, "it's fairly strong so you'd have to have been with her for a long time. Ginny, yeah? About time, Harry, if you ask me…"

"You got that I was married from my scent?" Harry interrupted, gobsmacked.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry," she scolded lightly, rolling her eyes in a way that made the two boys smile, the action very familiar from their time at Hogwarts. "I can clearly see your wedding band," she finished, pointing at his hand where the simple gold band lay innocently on his finger.

Harry blushed at the obviousness of the statement before he coughed and sat up straighter, "Hermione…"

"You want to know where I've been and why I haven't been back or had any contact with anyone in the last ten years," she sighed heavily, her shoulder's slumping. She had hoped to avoid this particular conversation as long as possible.

"Actually," Harry began, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants, "I was wondering if you could tell us what happened to you. How did you become a werewolf?"

"I was bitten," she deadpanned like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "So…" she started nervously, "I hear Molly killed B-Bellatrix."

"How'd you know?" Ron asked, not missing the way Hermione stuttered out the psychotic witch's name or how her hand reached for her arm where he knew that filthy word was carved into her skin.

"Lavender told me," Hermione replied with a shrug of her shoulders as she looked over at the younger woman who was absentmindedly sipping at her tea and refusing to look at anyone.

"You've spoken to Lavender?" Harry asked angrily, jealous that she had spoken to Lavender but not to him. Over the last ten years, he had sent her hundreds of letters, knowing he wouldn't get a reply but hoping anyway.

"She wrote to me yesterday," Hermione explained, "David opened the letter and read it out loud whilst I was minding a friend's store. I had no intention of opening it, Harry; I didn't recognise the handwriting on it and had planned on leaving it unopened."

"You mean like you did to all of the ones we sent you?" he questioned bitterly.

Hermione promptly stood up before she marched from the room and down the hall, leaving behind two gaping wizards and a weary-looking witch. Ron quickly slapped Harry in the back of the head when he heard Hermione turn into a room at the end of the hall.

"Oi! What was that for?!" Harry grunted, rubbing the back of his head.

"Don't piss her off, Harry," he replied, "werewolves are temperamental at the best of times, don't poke the bear, yeah?"

"Hermione wouldn't hurt anyone," Harry protested.

"The Hermione you both knew is now a werewolf," Lavender replied logically, "it changed me and I only took on their traits and a few of their instincts; who knows what it did to Hermione."

"I want answers," Harry grumbled.

"You think I don't?" Ron retorted angrily, "she's my best friend too, Harry. You're not the only one who's missed her these last few years! We've all been beside ourselves."

"I'm sorry I've distressed you all so much," came Hermione's reply as she entered the room once more, a large ornate box in her arms.

Ron and Harry jumped at the sudden inclusion of her voice, unused to hearing it after such a long time. Hermione walked over to them and once again sat on the coffee table before she placed the box on her thighs and opened it. She pulled out a large stack of parchment, tied together with a silk ribbon, and handed them to Harry.

As he looked down at them, realising they were all his letters from the last ten years, Hermione picked up another stack and handed them to him. These ones were written in her familiar cursive script, letters addressed to him, to Ron, George, Ginny, and many others. She had even written letters to Fred even though she knew he had died in the final battle.

"I read every letter you sent me," she told him thickly, "and I wrote just as many, I just never sent them."

"Why not?" Harry choked, his eyes beginning to water.

She smiled sadly, "because I wasn't ready to face that part of my life again."

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Hermione bolted to the door and practically threw it open, hearing David's familiar baritone grumbling on the other side of the sturdy door. David barely managed to speak a word before the smell of two males and a female reached his nose and he pulled Hermione behind him as his eyes flashed gold and he snarled lowly. The smell of electricity that he had come to learn represented their magical core filled the air and burnt the hairs in his nose. He had grown used to the scent on Hermione, but the smell was usually hidden beneath her pack scent. The smell of the three newcomers was exponentially more potent than the little witch he had stepped in front of.

Hearing the snarl, Harry and Ron were on their feet instantly, their wands raised and aimed at the imposing man standing in the door. Ron stepped in front of Lavender even as she prepared herself to defend her mate, knowing she didn't stand a chance against a beta let alone an Alpha.

"Wait!" Hermione yelled, moving out from behind David and standing in front of him, her own eyes flashing gold as she looked at her two best friends, ready to defend her Alpha if she had to. "Put. Down. Your. Wands. Now!" she ordered, her voice a throaty growl as she continued to block her Alpha from their line of sight.

Ron was the first to do as she asked, recognising the protective instincts flaring in his werewolf best friend. Lavender had displayed similar protectiveness whenever she thought he was being threatened and he knew it was best to do what he was told when the wolf was in control. Seeing Ron stowing his wand away encouraged Harry to do the same, albeit reluctantly, his eyes jumping from his best friend to the large man that seemed to be taking up most of her doorway.

"Hermione, who are these people?" David asked, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"David, this is Harry, Ron, and Lavender. Guys, this is David, my Alpha." Hermione turned in David's grip, her eyes raising to meet his only to freeze as she noticed the tension in his body. She could smell his anxiety and saw the frown lines marring his handsome features. "What's wrong?" she asked hesitantly.

David seemed to look past her and to her friends before his grip on her tightened almost painfully as their eyes connected again.

"Caleb's missing," he told her gravely, his eyes showing his fear and concern even as his face remained stoic. Then he said three little words that had her heart sinking faster than it ever had before.

"Greyback has him."

Okay, that's it. The first chapter. Sorry for any spelling mistakes; I try my best to get them all but sometimes they slip passed me. Please fave/follow and leave me a comment below xx