This story is based on Harry Potter written by J.K Rowling

A/N: This is being written for the quidditch league fanfiction competition season 6.

Round 4- Pet Me

Beater 1- write about a pet changing the owner's life- for better or for worse.

Prompts- 9. (Dialogue) "Who's a good boy/girl?"

11. (Sound) bark or mew (doesn't necessarily have to be made by a dog/cat)

12. (Word) Pillow

The chaos from the war and the immediate aftermath is finally starting to calm down. Hogwarts has been cleaned up by the remaining professors and a few volunteers, there's been a notice posted of it's re-opening to the public for the upcoming school year.

Even the Daily Prophet has moved on to different topics. After several months of little else they have finally gone to subjects other than the Final Battle. They of course haven't left Harry, Ron and I alone yet, not that I expect them to anytime soon.

Of course, for those of us recovering emotionally and physically residing at the Burrow, the distraction of all the tasks needing to be done are both good and bad.

For some of us, helping others rebuild, helps to recover and feel useful. Percy for example, has been one of those volunteers helping at Hogwarts. He's also been spending more time with George, doing what is a mystery to me. Maybe he'll even connect with his parents again.

And then there are those like me. I was one of the volunteers, I have been helping Molly around the house, even though she says she doesn't need it. I have been studying all hours of the day so I can take my N.E.W.T.s without having to go back to Hogwarts for classes. Going to classes inside the castle like before would be too painful.

Everytime I continue with a task, I tell myself that I'm doing it to be helpful, that everybody needs to help each other rebuild. But I know that I'm only trying to buy myself more time. I keep putting off breaks again and again, keeping myself distracted with household chores and studying.

But the longer I wait, the worse off I will be.

I turn to the last page of the book I'm taking notes out of, and finish writing my thoughts on a Transfiguration spell. I close the book and sigh to myself.

I'll stop after I finish my N.E.W.T.s, I think to myself as I stretch and reach for the next book on Potions, I'll take a gap year of sorts. I crack open the new book and start writing, I'll give myself time then.

Something will have to give, one way or another.

"Are you sure?" Harry asks for the 3rd time since we came outside to talk. "It's not like I'm against the idea, but isn't that far?"

I sigh, pluck at the grass, and indulge him, "France is not that far away, not even for Muggles and certainly not for Wizards." I ruffle his hair with the grass still in my palm, earning an indignant 'Hey!' as he shakes his hair out. "Honestly, I'll be a floo call away, and you can visit anytime."

He blows out a breath as he deflates. "Alright, fine." Harry nudges his elbow into my arm. "Who's going to help me take care of Ron? It's a full-time job you know."

I giggle as I swat his elbow away. "He has been hanging around with Hannah Abbott recently, right? I'm sure you'll have plenty of help." I fall onto my back and cackle like a madwoman, unable to contain it.

Harry cringes beside me. "Ew, gross! Hermione!"

All I can do is clutch at my stomach as I shake with laughter. These carefree moments are what I look forward to, and it has been so long since I or anybody else has laughed like this.

Seeing that I have calmed down, Harry stands and holds out his hand for me. "Come on time to go inside, you have some packing to do."

He pulls me up, and we walk back inside, still chuckling.

It's been a few days since arriving at the little cottage. This particular one is owned by my parents. It's perfect for vacations, we came almost every summer.

The location is also perfect for what I need now. It's secluded from both Wizarding and Muggle society with a small area nearby where I can get essentials. I can stay here as long as I wish without anyone stumbling upon me. Leaving Harry and Ron as the only ones who know, the location having been erased from my parents along with their other memories of me.

This didn't stop me from setting up my own wards around it of course.

Those first few days were spent with Harry and Ron as we got the cottage in working order, repairing anything broken from lack of upkeep.

With everything in its place and the absence of company there's nothing to do but sit and think.

It doesn't take long for me to be drowning and choking on my tears. All the pain and stress accumulated during the war finally starts draining from me. Obliviating my unsuspecting parents, being disguised as Harry, breaking into the Ministry, going on the run, torture, Gringotts, the Final Battle. All of it pouring out in waves of grief.

And finally the purpose of this trip is being met.

In between floo calls and some light reading, I use a chunk of the day to go through my thoughts, usually in the mornings or evenings. My favorite place to do this is, of course, the back porch leading into the forest.

It was one of those times in deep thought during the evening, that I was distracted by sounds in the distance. It starts as a loud scuffling in the underbrush that develops into sinister growling.

By the time I'm on my feet, wand in hand, it has escalated to snarling barks and a slightly fainter yiping sound almost completely masked.

I'm walking closer to the tree line, concern for the cause of the sound, when the barking is interrupted by a high pitched yelp of pain. Wasting no time, I flick my wand to create a loud banging sound, hopefully scaring away the aggressor.

I walk as quickly as I can to the clearing I suspect the barking came from. When I don't notice a presence immediately, I hope my distraction has successfully scared it away. That leaves a second one with a possible injury. I stand and listen for a good minute before I hear a faint wimper somewhere to my right.

After some searching I spot the curled up form of a poor injured animal, possibly of the canine variety. After a closer look, I can't stop myself. "Aw you're just a puppy aren't you?" I start to slowly edge closer. "What big meanie would hurt such a cutie?"

Stepping closer I conjure a blanket and cast a Lumos to see the possible injuries. A quick check reveals that there is little to no blood, and what is there coats the fur of its left hind leg.

"Well, let's get you inside to see what I can do." Blanket in hand, I bend down to gently lift it up. "Try not to wiggle around so much, and no nibbling." I set a brisk pace back to the house with minimal wiggling from my passenger.

I set the puppy down carefully onto my floor pillow before removing the blanket. After a quick check it is confirmed that the puppy is in fact male.

I take a soft rag and use Aguamenti to wet it and wipe up as much of the blood I can. I then use my wand to shave off some of the hair surrounding the long but shallow cut. I don't know what's safe for normal animals, but a healing salve should be fine. At the first sign of something wrong I'll clean it off and out of the wound. As the last step I use Ferula to wrap the wound.

During this process the pup mostly remains still and makes the occasional whine. I sit back and study him for a moment. There's no way he's an ordinary dog, given that his current size is about a medium-big sized dog, and he's still just a puppy.

"Hm, what if you're a wolf? I don't know another reason for you to be all the way out here." I walk over to the kitchen to look for some food. "That would certainly be interesting, maybe there's a preserve nearby or something."

I pull out a packet of sandwich meat, not the appropriate food for a wild wolf pup, but it will do for now. I grab a plate and dump the packet's contents onto it.

By the time I get back, he's already testing out his leg by standing. "Careful, you don't want to start bleeding again."

He startles at my presence and freezes in place, shivering. I set the plate in front of him and then sit and watch from the other end of the room. I feel some relief when he finally starts eating after getting used to my presence, at least his appetite isn't affected.

Once he finishes, I coo at him, "Who's a good boy?" At my voice he lifts his head, and his ears stand at attention, causing me to giggle. "You are!"

Ignoring me, he stands up and walks back to the pillow plopping down onto it before rolling around and getting comfortable.

Well, looks like he claimed that one. I take the plate to the sink and turn to stare at him curled up on the pillow. What should I name him? I think back to his wound. He's definitely tough enough to survive against whatever it was that attacked him. Maybe another wolf? Guess you could say he's as tough as steel.

I walk past him towards my room, turning out the light as I go. "Goodnight Steele, see you in the morning." I go to my room and start getting ready for bed. That's a good name.

As I'm falling asleep I notice a lighter feeling from that day. It's a much better than the heaviness I've been feeling lately. Maybe having an animal around helps?

There's one thing for sure. Having a wolf around will never be boring. I guess I'll keep him for now.

Thus starting my journey to becoming a wolf mom. Definitely a step up from cat lady.