A soft breeze ruffled Hermione's hair while the warm sun shone down on her stretched out on the grass. A part of her knew she should be jumping up and freaking out, considering —well— everything.
But there was something inside her, like a reflection of herself with all pretense stripped away. The part of herself that doubted, the part of herself that worried over and over if she was making the right choices. This primal part was awake, and it spoke to her so clearly.
Safe.
Her eyes opened slowly, then flew open when she realized she wasn't alone lying in the grass. A large white wolf was lying beside her, and the amber eyes fixed inquisitively upon her. She tried to stand up and fell over, all her limbs feeling odd.
A whine emerged from her throat and she tried to stand again, tripping over her own legs–or paws—to be accurate. Her heart started fluttering in her chest as she realized she was a wolf.
She was a bloody wolf! That white wolf was not Harry. Hermione looked around and couldn't spot the black wolf she knew was hers.
You're overthinking it. A warm feminine voice drifted into Hermione's mind as she tried to stand and fell over again.
A half snarl emerged from her throat in response to the voice. Overthinking is what she specialized at.
You're just as testy as your mate.
Hermione's head cocked in the direction of the white wolf. My mate?
The master of death.
You're the one who bit him! Hermione remembered the scars covering Harry's body and anger rushed through her. She was on her feet her head lower to the ground her lips pulled back to reveal her fangs.
Calm down, you can't take me on—yet at least. Amusement flowed through the other wolf's voice, and she hadn't moved from where she lay stretched out in the grass.
Hermione moved a step forward, the primal entity inside her moving with her, both of them in complete agreement. Anyone who harmed Harry was not someone she was prepared to treat nicely.
The other wolf looked away from her, towards the eastern edge of the clearing, where a fiery sun still rising, casting deep shadows from the ginormous trees. Look, there she is.
Hermione didn't want to look away, but there was something in that voice that pulled at her, making her snout swing in the same direction as the wolf looked. There on the very edge of the meadow was a tiny little wolf, rolling around in flowers. Despite the distance, every detail of the little wolfcub was sharp, the little tufts of honey-brown fur that stuck up, the little burrs stuck on one side.
As if the little cub sensed the attention she looked over to them, her little ears flicking forward inquisitively.
She needs you, she needs you both.
Elara. Hermione thought.
Yes.
The little cub sneezed in the little patch of flowers, an adorable little noise reaching Hermione's ears that were cocked forward.
Hermione tried to walk forward, but it was like the world suddenly shook and she stumbled.
She doesn't have much time, she can't change back.
Hermione's head whipped back to the white wolf as the world shook again. What do you bloody mean she can't change back? She's a wolf baby?
Mik-
"Hermione!"
Hermione's eyes snapped open to look into Harry's concerned green eyes, her hands coming up to clutch onto his biceps. "She's a bloody wolf baby!"
Concern deepened in Harry's eyes and he stroked the side of her face before he pulled back and held up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Harry!"
"How many!" Harry put his fingers closer to her and she nipped at them.
Did Hermione feel a little weird after she realized what she had done? Yes. Very much so. Heat rushed to her cheeks but she tried to keep her voice even. "Three, you git."
"Oh good. I thought I might have shagged you senseless." His voice was teasing, but heat bloomed in his eyes as he looked down at her.
Hermione wanted to scold Harry for his playful teasing, but a little bomb exploded in her mind as she finally became fully awake. The feel of his hard NAKED body pressed against hers, his hips settled intimately against her.
The morning sun streamed through the window highlighting the muscles of his shoulders and the shaggy messiness of his black hair reminiscent of his wolf form.
With difficulty Hermione closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on her dream and not her best friend laying in bed with her—on top of her. "We have to do things— I have things to tell you—"
"Then tell me." Harry's head dipped and he nuzzled the side of her neck, his tongue coming out to lick at the mark he had made last night.
Hermione sucked in a breath to start telling him of her dream, but Harry continued speaking with a low growl. "After."
After. The word vibrated through her, making her heart speed up. Harry reached down grasping her under her knees and lifting them higher around his hips, positioning her the way he wanted her.
Her eyes met his as he pushed forward, whispering agreement as he entered her. "After."
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After actually turned out to be several hours later with the sun sitting much much lower in the sky when Hermione finally rolled away from him breathless.
"Is it a werewolf thing to have sex this much or a Harry thing?"
Harry smiled his arm over his eyes next to her. "I dare you to ask Remus or Sirius that."
Hermione smacked his belly. "No, really I've actually never read any study regarding if sexual stamina in werewolves—"
"I'm getting turned on again."
"No!" She gasped looking downward at his sheet-covered privates.
"If you're going to talk to me about werewolf sexual stamina I will."
"Hmpf. Anyway, before your penis got in the way of our conversation—"
"It prefers to be called a dick."
"Really. You asked it?"
"Oh yeah. We have loads to talk about."
"I'm remembering why you were so often in detention in school."
"I can't help it if I was surrounded by evil bastards."
"I meant Minnie."
"She ate lunch with Snape, who knows what they talked about."
Hermione covered his mouth. "Keep your sassy mouth shut so I can get a word in edgewise."
Harry moved his arm and looked at her, the edges of his eyes crinkling in amusement. When she moved her hand away he told her, "You're hot when you're being all bossy."
"Hush, you git. I've been trying to tell you for hours while you've been distracting me with shagging. I had a dream about a white wolf."
The humor fled his eyes, and the green darkened. His hand reached out to hold her chin, "Did they hurt you?"
Violence and love seemed to swirl in his eyes stealing her breath and the depth and ferocity of his look. "You crazy wizard." She whispered, a rumble of satisfaction purring in her chest at his response.
Mate. The thing inside her whispered.
Mine.
Harry's teeth had lengthened as his face came closer, the rough bristle of his beard against her cheek. "Did. They. Hurt. You."
"No." Her heart was beating hard and her skin felt hot, he had made love to her it felt like constantly since biting her last night, and yet still it wasn't enough.
"Mhmm." His low words rumbled against her pleasantly.
"I was a wolf—in the dream— and I saw her."
"Who?"
"Elara."
"The baby?"
"She's a wolf," Hermione said softly. "And the white wolf said she's stuck that way and running out of time."
"Time for what?"
"I woke up before I got the answer, but maybe she won't be able to change back? Like —" Hermione drew a shaky breath. "Like some type of blood curse."
Both of them were quiet for a moment, the end of the war hadn't meant the end of disturbing events in both of their lives. A committee had been formed by the International Confederation of Wizards to review exactly what failings had occurred in England to allow a dark wizard to come so close to conquering the country.
One of the most disturbing facts that had come about from the investigation was the background of Nagini. They had all just thought of the snake as Voldemorts familiar— but it hadn't been. Nagini had once been a witch suffering from a blood curse that had permanently transformed her into a snake.
Neville had struggled and still struggled with the revelation that when he killed Nagini, he had killed a witch. Unlike Harry's growth in the Auror division prompting him to toughen up even more, letting go of some of the idealistic views of his youth regarding curses, Neville had focused on having a peaceful (aside from dangerous plants) existence with botany.
Could a baby get stuck as a werewolf? Hermione would have said no, that wasn't possible. But with magic, the one thing she had learned was that there are no rules. She had never heard of a werewolf becoming human again before the full moon set either.
Then there was the mention of Merlin or Myridden as they had called him when they spoke to Harry. What had he done to make lycanthropy what it was today? Was it all created by some curse that had mutated lycanthropy from what it was originally?
Harry shook his head slightly drawing her attention back to the now as opposed to the rabbit hole her thoughts had gone down trying to figure out all the pieces. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that we find her and help her."
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"Harry you can't come, you don't know what might happen with people and we don't even know—"
"I bit you."
"I don't see how—"
"So how do we know what might happen to you? You can't go either then."
"Yes but– well—"
"We're both going."
Hermione heard the thread of steel underlying his pronouncement and gave up with a huff. She had heard that tone enough in her life to know Harry had dug in and wasn't going to budge. He did seem more settled than she had seen him since he had gotten bit. Maybe he had to bite someone in return?
In short order they found themselves dressed, and ready to chain apparate to southwest Scotland to check out an abandoned castle. Hermione dug through her bag pulling out the portkey she had made especially for her trip to find Harry and slipping on the ring while Harry eyed her disagreeably.
"Still thinking of trying to make me swim?"
"No, this one goes back to my flat. Just in case something happens you know?"
"Okay." He stepped up to her, carefully avoiding contact with the top of the ring, and both of them disappeared with a pop.
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The castle itself didn't seem to be very big –certainly not as large as Hogwarts— even with only some of the walls standing. Harry and Hermione watched from a crowded overhang for a few minutes, seeing several people snapping pictures with their phones, but not spotting a familiar redhead.
There was a queer feeling though, in her stomach, like a tug of something reaching for her. Harry pointed towards the northern edge where some tourists wandered about keeping an eye out for falling rocks. "Let's start that way, we can question them if they've seen our missing redhead."
"Um, maybe we should split up to cover more ground? I can start on the other end and we meet in the middle?"
"I think we should stick together."
"Isn't that usually my line? It will be fine – it will only take a few minutes and we'll find Ron faster."
Hermione could tell he still didn't like that idea but agreed it would be quickest. "Fine. If anything happens don't wait, don't try to reach me first— just use the portkey then text me okay?" He held up his for once fully charged phone.
"Yes, sir."
"That sounds nice."
Hermione laughed distracted from the pull she could sense. "You pervert, go on then."
Harry grinned at her before they split up each walking their own way. Hermione walked towards the far edge of the castle hoping she could find whatever it was that was tugging on her like she was the pointer of a compass and north was out there.
She took a couple of steps in the direction of the pull unable to help herself, before she managed to stop her feet from following, she tightened her fist and gave a little yelp when her own claws pricked at her palm. Bloody hell. That hurt!
She shook her hand, before looking in her purse for a small bottle of dittany she kept in her purse, but before she could find it the blood stopped and her little wounds healed on their own.
"Wow." She muttered. "That is kind of useful."
She looked down and her nails had gone down, the small pain helping her manage her urges. Interesting. And also problematically useful. Sucking in a determined breath she turned around, she needed to find Harry and Ron and they needed to head out to find whatever it was that was pulling at her.
With those thoughts she turned determinedly in the other direction, walking carefully through the castle ruins toward Harry. She heard voices up ahead and saw Harry and Ron talking with some muggles. She opened her mouth to call out to them, when one of the women reached out, her hand touching Harry's bicep.
Things seemed to blur after that, Hermione heard screams and yelling, and then Harry's arms wrapped tightly around her. She struggled growling against him. She just wanted to make sure that other woman knew who Harry belonged to that was all. She growled at Harry annoyed and tried to twist out of his hold.
"Bloody hell you bit her," Ron said watching Harry keep Hermione from making a meal of the muggle woman.
Harry turned his head from where he was trying to keep Hermione from running after the women. "Ron, shut it and just go obliviate those muggles."
"Go do the investigation, Ron. Go obliviate the muggles, Ron. Where is the thank you?"
"Thank you for obliviating the bloody muggles RON!"
"Ah, you're welcome mate," Ron said cheerfully taking off at a run towards the women screaming and running for their car.
"Shhh, shhh–ow," Harry muttered when her claws dug in particularly deep on his hip and Hermione paused her head tilting. Her hand carefully disengaged, giving a small caress to the claw marks.
Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck. "Harry." She whispered an edge of panic in her voice, she had never felt so completely out of control of herself.
"It's okay, it's okay."
"I–I—" Her throat closed and she squeezed him tighter. Harry's arms were around her waist and he rocked slightly back and forth.
"Well, at least she apparently only has issues with handsy muggle women. Hermione, you don't feel like randomly gutting me do you?" Ron called out from behind them.
A low growl involuntarily escaped her.
Harry patted her comfortingly. "I know."
"Well, this whole thing has been bollocks. We wandered around some moldy old stone and falling debris, Hermione discovered she has issues with handsy muggle women, and I realized I still remember some of the shit that old prick Lockhart taught me."
"Ron, why exactly did we come here? What did you find?"
"Well I went to Manchester and talked to this old bloke who smelled like he forgot what scourgifies are and he told me that there was this witch up in York who might have a clue. I went to see the witch who had told me about some strange werewolves up in Carlisle—"
Harry sighed loudly.
"AND THEN I went up to Carlisle where I didn't find anything —"
"Oh, bloody hell Ronald–" Hermione began her face still pressed against Harry's neck.
"BUT I found this photograph of this bloody castle in an abandoned building that locals swear they had been hearing howling from!" Ron finished triumphantly. "So here we are!" He spread out his hands gesturing to the now-empty ruins.
"I think we're not exactly in the right area," Hermione said finally stepping away from Harry.
"What do you mean? Did you find something?" Harry asked looking down at her.
Hermione looked at them, wanting to give them some type of reasonable explanation for what she was about to say, but she had none. "Um. I just think we need to go more..." She stopped at pointed towards the pull.
"Uh, I don't think there's anything there– mainly the forest?" Ron said trying to remember the map he had looked at before coming.
"Yes," Hermione said picturing the forest she had seen during her dream, the flower bed.
"You sense something?" Harry asked.
Hermione nodded, her finger still pointing in the direction she wanted to go.
Harry grabbed her hand and started walking, speeding up until they were jogging next to each other. "Then let's go find her."
She smiled at him, falling to pace by his side, despite his longer stride.
"Oh bloody fucking hell. I am not built to go on random jogs through bloody fucking Scotland!" Ron groused behind them already panting.
"Come on, mate. Remember our quidditch days?" Harry called back laughing.
"That was —years—ago— I'm a bloody rich git now—other people — run— for me," Ron said panting clutching his side as he ran after them.
Excitement flowed through Hermione as the trees became thicker, their branches stretching high overhead, making the light softer. They were so close.
When they came to the edge of a clearing her heart beat hard. "This is it!"
"Here?" Harry asked cautiously stepping forward his eyes looking around. "There's something definitely..." His nostrils flared as he inhaled.
They could hear Ron crashing about behind them but they ignored it and stepped forward into the clearing. "She was here in my dream." Hermione looked paying careful attention to the edges of the clearing.
It was like an electric shock when Hermione spotted the small flowerbed. She took off running towards it, the baby had been there in her dream. She could almost smell her, the sweet baby smell covered in dirt and petals. The little sneeze the cub had made...
"Hermione wait! Wait!" Harry took off after her across the meadow, his focus narrowed in on just her. Couldn't she smell them? His instincts kicked in, apparating forward without a thought, and Harry grabbed her wrestling her to the ground.
"Harry what are you doing get off me – she's there! I know it!" Hermione twisted in his hold trying to throw him off, desperate to get to the little wolf she had seen in her dream.
"Yes, I believe you, but she's not alone."
Hermione froze, her eyes lifting from the empty flowerbed, and saw the pairs of eyes that she had missed gleaming in the darkened tree line. There were dozens of people in the treeline, watching from the shadows.
A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped forward, his white blonde hair reminiscent of Lucius Malfoy. His arm thrust out his fingers curled in the scruff of a honey-brown baby wolf cub.