Author's Note: Hey dear readers, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Currently I am waiting out Hurricane Lane; hopefully if we do lose power it won't be for very long but be prepared for delays in an updates. Thank you!

It was dark and it took Hermione a moment to notice she was not in the barracks room anymore but her own bedroom back in London. Everything looked as it always did, even the vase of white roses she had on her nightstand was still there. Among other things however, she also realized she was not alone. Fenrir Greyback was sitting on the windowsill with his gold eyes shining in the waxing moon's light. Her breath hitched from momentary surprise but she strangely she wasn't afraid.

I should be though, Hermione thought to herself. However the fear didn't stir in her. Something else did. Lust.

She bit her lip and he grinned mischievously, slowly moving towards her with the same want and desire radiating off of him. Hermione did not wait for him to cross the bed but instead moved to meet him at its edge, her lips finding his with a slow-burning kiss that left her moaning for more. His rough hands tugged away her silk chemise top, stripping away here clothes with such particular deliberation it began to drive Hermione a little mad.

"Patience," he whispered, his hot breath in her ear. "The night is still young."

A vague part of Hermione's logical conscious side tried to remind her that this had to be a dream but this fact was overwritten by a much more compelling argument: quite simply she didn't care.

As he removed her panties Hermione was greedily helping him undress. Fenrir's hands snaked between her inner thighs as he pushed her back against the bed. He was leaving a path of kisses up her legs causing her to grab the bedsheets in agonizing desperation.

"How badly do you want this?" He purred.

Hermione sat up and gasped, rising clumsily to the jarring sound of morning revelry. She was back in the barracks room once more, her eyes darting around the room to confirm her location. She was still wearing her clothes from the day before as she guessed she must have fallen asleep while waiting for the lockdown to be lifted. The witch cursed several unladylike expletives as the tendrils of her dream still lingered in her mind. Hermione tried to banish the mental picture of Fenrir Greyback and the thoughts it conjured.

I am taking that dream to my grave, she vowed.

Hermione didn't let herself ruminate too long on the nature of the dream or whatever had inspired her brain to even go there. Instead she quickly dressed in a fresh outfit, fixing herself up briefly before tearing out of her room with a determined stride. The witch only glanced back to realize the guard was no longer stationed outside her door. That was probably for the best, she said silently. There would be hell to pay for anyone that tried to stop her this time.

She wasn't going to be deterred from her mission. Hermione had spent many long hours the night before mulling over the day's events: the state of the inmates was unsettling but more so of what had become of the werewolf Timothy. Hermione knew to trust her intuitions but she also needed firm proof to justify the allegations. A confession from Williams will do just fine, Hermione thought. After witnessing the bizarre condition of Timothy there was no doubt in her mind that the captain of the guards knew more than he was letting on.

The guard posted outside the captain's office tried to stop her but she pushed passed him and abruptly shut the door in the young man's face.

"Good morning Miss Granger," Williams said. He didn't look up from his paperwork and there was an icey tone to his greeting.

"Hello Officer Williams, I believe there are some things we must discuss," she said, mimicking the professional coldness of the wizard's voice.

"Yes, certainly. Let's start with what you were doing in the restricted area during yesterday's attack," Williams said, turning now from his paperwork to meet her gaze.

Hermione seated herself. "I told you I was trying to help. But I am glad you brought that up. I am very concerned by what I saw."

"And what is it you think you saw, Miss Granger?" The older wizard asked, his gray eyebrows arching in a curious expression. Hermione realized he was testing her. Williams was baiting her to see how much she knew already before he ran the risk of revealing something new. And likely something that would condemn himself.

She thought back to what Fenrir had said briefly in his interview and the mention of the experiments. She considered what she had seen of Timothy.

Hermione stared back at Williams, unyielding. "I saw enough," she countered and added with a bluff. "And I know everything, therefore would be in your best interest to cooperate, Officer Williams."

"Or what?" He asked, cracking a smile for the first time Hermione had come to know the captain. His words, laced with a threat, made Hermione uncomfortable. He stretched out his arms as if to survey the room around them. "What precisely are you going to do here? In case you haven't realized it you are very far from London. In fact, Miss Granger, I should caution you. People die all the time in the jungle due to careless decisions."

Hermione reached for her wand holistered at her back instinctively although she did not draw it. Williams was right. She was far from any support and wading in territory far outside her jurisdiction. But despite the very real anxiety rising in her chest she refused to betray her fear. Her expression was impenetrable.

She tightened her jaw, "What are you going to do?"

"Me? Absolutely nothing, Miss Granger. Well, I shouldn't say that. I have a great deal left to write in this after action report about yesterday's excitement. You, I imagine must be quite busy with your own report to write as well. So busy, in fact, that you will be unable to do little else for the duration of your time here. Isn't that correct?"

So he was going to secuester her in her room. Hermione was suspicious this would be the end of matters. There was a very real likelihood that Williams would not let her leave the island alive. But in the moment there was little else she could do but go along and buy herself some time. Hermione nodded with feigned resignation, "Very well. And I assume you will expect a glowing report?"

"I leave that up to your good judgement, Miss Granger," he said with the same hint of smile.

Hermione went back to her room where she began to calculate her options. Communications were impossible as she had learned on her first day. Therefore she had the choice to wait it out and play along like a curtailed bureaucrat or try to escape the island. The former plan relied on Williams simply allowing her to leave in the two days time, perhaps with the promise that she didn't disclose anything damning. This idea seemed entirely unlikely. Williams did not strike Hermione as the type to leave loose ends or let her go on goodwill. Even without knowing how much Hermione knew, he was not about to risk jeopardizing whatever operation they had going on.

Which meant her second option was to escape. Hermione did not like this plan much either but given her options she wasn't sure she had much of a choice. Even once she found a way to get away that still meant she had to survive in the jungle and somehow get to the ship when it arrived in a day or so. Her mind raced with what if's.

What if she ran into the escaped werewolves.

What if she missed the ship.

What if

What if. . .

"No," she said aloud and the conviction in her own voice was enough to draw her back to the present. I have no choice. I have to get out of here.

Once Hermione made the decision to escape she set herself to getting what she needed. It gave her a sense of deja vu as she packed her necessities in a charmed rucksack she had transfigured from one of her leather duffle bags. Living on the run with Harry and Ron so many long years ago Hermione had learned a few tricks for just the occasion. Although she was not ecstatic to be putting her survival skills to use once more at the very least she felt a calm resolve in the knowledge that she could do this.

First things first I have to make it out of here, Hermione thought.

Hermione waited until 3AM before making her escape. She knew it was her best chance because most of the guards would be asleep and those still on duty were likely to be drowsy and less vigilant. Thankfully there was no one posted near her door as Hermione crept down the narrow hallway.

She wished she had Harry's invisibility cloak but made do with the vast shadows casting coverage for her path. Hermione came upon one guard as they both turned down the same hallway. He gave her a startled look but couldn't get the words out of his mouth before she quickly cast a stupefying spell. He dropped to the floor in an instant and Hermione felt slightly bad as she stepped over his unconscious body.

Hermione darted from behind one tent to the next as she made her way closer to the entrance of the camp. And then suddenly there came a sound that stopped Hermione cold. A piercing howl filled the air followed by a chorus of other wolves. There could have been twelve or more, it was hard for Hermione to tell. It sounded like it was coming from beyond the wall. Hermione jumped back as one of the walls she had been standing near gave a violent shake. Sirens began to blair as the guards in the watchtower sounded the alarm that they were under attack.

There was another shake of the wall accompanied by a loud boom. The wall nearest her gave way partially to expose several creatures fighting to break through the camp's defenses. Hermione's heart was beating out of her chest as she stifled a scream and took off in a sprint as far from the wall as she could. She did not look back even as she heard another boom and shrapnel of stone and wood flew past her.

"DEFENSES ARE DOWN!" A guard yelled but his voice was muffled by the deafening sirens and the snarling sounds of the creatures breaking through the walls. Hermione had her wand out as she continued to run through the camp, no longer caring whether anyone saw her.

The guards began to fight off the intruders with spells ricocheting in various directions around Hermione. She tried to stay out of the crossfire but came close to catching a hex in her arm as she stumbled upon a guard in the grips of one of the creatures. A split second too late, there was nothing she could do to help the young wizard as the creature snapped his neck with its massive claw. Standing there mere meters from the being, Hermione could not make sense of what she was looking at. It was half-wolf, half-human but drastically different than the werewolves she had seen before. It was twice the size of a normal werewolf and bore red glowing eyes.

The creature flung the dead guard and turned its gaze to Hermione. Another guard came at the creature screaming in rage, sending a bolt of lightning from his wand at the intruder. Hermione didn't wait to see how the situation unfolded and kept moving quickly. She could see the entrance in the distance, the glow of torchlight lighting her path now. To her relief the gate was partially ajar from what she could see.

Hermione picked up her pace even as the destruction weighed in around her.

"THEY ARE SURROUNDING US!" Williams yelled out from the center of the camp.

She looked over to see him and several other guards fending off the wolves with various spells. Their wand's magic lit up the camp in a sickening hue of blues and reds. The wolves circled in closer and closer until they sprang at once. One guard fell to the ground, screeching in his death throes as several werewolves descended upon him. Williams and the other guards soon met the same fate to Hermione's horror. A quick survey told her that there were three more nearby wizards nearing a similar end.

But there was no time to help them. Not if she wanted to survive herself.

With a white-knuckle grip on her wand Hermione fired a hex as one half-human half-wolf assailant raced at her. There was a flash of blue light as the creature was thrown back into a collection of tents. Another two creatures emerged from the shadows in the distance, their partially canine features illuminated by the camp's torchlight. Hermione shot a look around to see that any remaining guards were too far away to come to her aide as they fought off the other werewolves. Hermione deduced the odds were not in their favor. They were outnumbered and even with the use of wands, it wasn't going to be enough to stop them.

It was no more than a split second before she looked up to see one of the werewolves descending upon her. Hermione felt her back hit the cold wet earth with a crack, the force stealing the air from her lunges. She gasped, reflexively throwing her arm up to block the werewolf's jaws. Instead of connecting with her throat she was able to keep it's face away by pushing back on its forehead even as it's entire weight barreled down on her.

She screamed, trying to fight back but her legs were immobilized by the creature's body. In the fall Hermione had lost her wand so instead she grabbed what was closest: a sharp rock. By now adrenaline was coursing through her veins as Hermione took the rock and hit the werewolf as hard as she could in the head. It was enough to force the creature to relinquish her from it's grasp and double back in a painful angry howl.

Hermione was quick to get to her feet, snatching her wand from the ground. She wasn't fast enough though as the werewolf was already mid pounce. Suddenly there was a blur of movement and the attacker was tossed into a nearby campfire. Hermione became the least of the werewolf's concerns as it tried to roll out of the flames, writhing in pain as the fire licked it's body.

"Why what do we here," said a voice from the shadows. "I thought I smelled you. We never got to finish our chat."

A cold shiver ran down Hermione's spine as she recognized Fenrir Greyback's familiar low voice.

"Get back!" She commanded. He sauntered from the shadows dressed in a prisoner's gray linen uniform, his blonde hair was down to his shoulders and his golden eyes flickered in the firelight. She wasn't even sure how he had gotten out but decided that particular detail did not matter. What did matter, however, was staying alive.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" He asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Fenrir had the sense to raise his hands as if to show he was unarmed even as he moved towards her. Hermione took a step back for every step he advanced; they both know he did not need a wand to do harm.

"Go ahead and kill me but you should consider that I might be your best chance of making it out of this alive," he said in quiet tone. Both of them looked at the carnage around them. Hermione saw several guards fleeing into the forest with werewolves on their heels, the rest were dead on the floor. Although Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if he had orchestrated the entire attack, she knew she had now one more difficult choice to make that day. She was alone and her chance at escape was dwindling fast.

Which is why Hermione didn't have time to question Fenrir's help or consider a better option. She tried instead to hide the pleading in her voice as she spoke the bitter words, "Help me."

"Come with me," he said as he took off towards the gate. As Hermione had suspected it was half ajar but only because someone, or something, had torn it open. Hermione's mind was racing with a million different thoughts as she trudged quickly behind him. She could not grapple with the idea that the only person who could save her at this point was Fenrir Greyback. The Death Eater's resident vicious werewolf. The very same one that had promised to bite her so many years ago.

And here was his chance.
Why didn't he take it? Did he have something even worse planned for Hermione?

She didn't speak, in fact she did not even dare breathe for fear of the other werewolves catching her. The only sound was the quiet crunch of the leaves beneath their feet and distant chaos of the camp. Fenrir's pace was much faster than her's and she struggled to match his stride. Even so she refused to complain, not when she was simply grateful to be alive. When they finally stopped Hermione found herself leaning against a tree to catch her breath.

Fenrir looked around to make sure they were alone. She trusted his heightened senses at least would give them the advantage of knowing if anyone was following after them. Fenrir stripped off his dull linen prison shirt and Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion.

"What are you doing?"
He tossed the shirt to her. "Put it on, it will help mask your scent from the others."

Hermione hesitated. She couldn't help but gawk at the werewolf's muscles now exposed, the runic tattoos and patchwork of scars adorning his skin. Suddenly her mind projected the scene from her dream and she tried to dispel the image without blushing.

"We can't wait here all night woman, put the damn shirt on," he said impatiently.

Hermione did not like being spoken to in such a manner however she liked the idea of being eaten alive by werewolves even less and therefore quickly followed Fenrir's command.

She slid the shirt over her blouse and they continued trekking deeper into the island jungle. Neither spoke another word for several hours. By now the adrenaline was beginning to leave her system as fatigue took over her tired limbs. It was hard to process the massacre that had just ensued before her eyes. Did this mean the entire island had fallen to anarchy?

It wasn't until the early signs of daylight broke through the jungle canopy that they stopped moving. Their spot to rest was under the roots of a massive ancient tree. The ground beneath it had given way, creating a space sheltered enough from view that they would be safe.

"We can stop here; the others will be settling to sleep during the day. No one will be out hunting for now."

Hunting. The word made her stomach churn at the thought of the infected prisoners chasing her down like prey. Hermione had worked so hard to advocate for werewolves and the fact that they were just like any other witch or wizard every other day of the month and yet she had just witnessed them kill in cold blood.

"What happened to them?" She asked aloud although the question was mostly to herself.

"You mean you're shocked that a group of violent criminals just committed violent crimes?"

"It wasn't even the full moon," she said, ignoring his condescending remark. "But they were...different. Something terrible."

"Ah, you can thank our fantastic warden for that," Fenrir said drily.

"What do you mean?"

"You truly have no idea what has been happening here do you?" Fenrir asked.

"I don't," she said sharply. "That's why I came here in the first place. To uncover whether there are grounds for charges against him. If the warden has been committing any crimes I need to know about them. What can you tell me, Fenrir?"

"So the ministry received my letter afterall," he said.

"Your...letter?" Hermione said with wide-eyed surprise.
"What's wrong woman, didn't know the big bad wolf was literate?"

To credit his question she had not in fact considered he could write a letter. Least of all could Hermione have imagined that the whistleblower for Wolf Island would actually turn out to be Fenrir Greyback: UK's most notorious werewolf. But at least it resolved one mystery that had puzzled her since she first received the case.

"I bribed a guard to smuggle it off the island. He was a nice bloke. Too bad I don't think he survived last night. I figured if it did get in the hands of some Ministry official they would send someone out here but I didn't expect it to be you. It must be my lucky day," he said with a cheeky grin.

"Must be," Hermione retorted. Was Fenrir Greyback flirting with her? This was neither the time, nor place nor person. However Hermione would have been lying to herself if she didn't find his golden eyes on her captivating. No, she chided herself for such a thought.

"So the allegations in the letter are true," Hermione said mostly to herself, her mindset shifting from survival-mode to work-mode seamlessly.

"Yes," he said and suddenly there was a shadow in his expression. "All of it. They treat us worse than prisoners back there were failed experiments of the prison's sick project. Who knows what they were trying to achieve. There are countless others that simply vanished."

"I will make sure you and the other prisoners receive justice for what's been done here," Hermione vowed. Fenrir merely laughed.

"Justice? When has the Ministry ever cared about justice when it comes to werewolves let alone convicted criminals. I think our lot is the least of their concerns."

"I care and I have made it my job to make sure the government cares too," Hermione said. Fenrir was impressed with her assurance although he doubted it truly extended to a felon like himself.

"I did not get to thank you for saving me earlier," Hermione said. "So thank you for that. Why did you though? Last time we met you were trying to bite me."
"Who's to say I am not planning on it still?" He said, flashing a mischievous smile that reminded her a little too much of the one he had in her dream. She kept that detail to herself and narrowed her gaze. "Relax, I promise I won't bite you...unless you ask nicely. I am a reformed man after all."

"Somehow I doubt that," Hermione said.
"How about I saved you so that you could put a good word in on my behalf."
"You committed countless war crimes, Fenrir."
"As did others and last I heard the Malfoys didn't see a day behind bars."

That much was true and Hermione understood the werewolf's bitterness. In truth all the magical creatures that had aided Voldemort had received far harsher punishments than most of the wizards that had followed the maniac. Money bought a lot of things including freedom as was the case with the Malfoy family.

"I cannot make you any promises," she said hesitantly.

"But you can try," he replied.

"If you help me get off this island I will do what I can," Hermione answered.

"That's as close to a deal as this werewolf can hope for from a witch," Fenrir said. "And lucky for you I think I might have an idea."