Chapter Four


Hermione was back on the floor of Malfoy Manor, screaming her throat raw as Bellatrix LeStrange carved mercilessly into tender flesh. She screamed as the mad witch leered and laughed above her, until the Muggle-born's wish was granted and the very floorboard she lay on, opened and swallowed her whole. She sank through the floorboards, as invisible flames licked up her arm from the cursed scar.

Falling through nothingness, the flames did not cease. Searing heat whipped up her arm until it spread across her shoulder blades and down her back. Her back arched, trying to escape the pain. The pain grew and grew until it encompassed her whole. She fought against the torture as her body, weak from war and fighting to stay alive, simply gave out.

But she would be granted no reprieve, as Hermione floated in betwixt and between. Bare feet touched ice cold stone as her former school appeared around her. The school had been perfectly rebuilt and was polished, ready for the newest crops of witches and wizards. But none would come now. It was the cruelest form of torture.

"Hermione?" A voice echoed down an empty hallway to her right.

She turned towards the voice like a kid beholding Father Christmas. It couldn't be, could it?

Tears immediately dampened the corners of her eyes. "Harry?" Hermione gasped as the deceased teen came into view. His scruffy five o'clock shadow had grown into a thick beard that covered nearly half of his face, but it could not mask the sloppy grin that brightened sparkling greens as the two beheld each other across Hogwarts' Entrance Hall.

"Harry!" she ran barefoot across the Hall to him.

The two collapsed into each other's arms. He was solid and warm. Was this real or had she died back at Malfoy Manor, she wondered? Hermione pulled back from the teen, devoid of his legendary scar and the harsh lines of war he sported on that fateful night in May; it was the last time she had seen him alive. He looked relaxed and happy, and was glasses-free.

"I've missed you," she breathed as she drunk in his face, his warm smile. This was surely a dream, something whispered, but she didn't care.

Harry smiled as he placed a hand to her cheek. She leaned warmly into his palm, desperate for his touch.

"Fight for me, Hermione," he whispered, as he rubbed a thumb across her cheek.

Nodding, she closed her eyes and relished the touch. There was so much she wanted to tell him. How hard she would fight, how much Ron and Ginny missed him, how their world had tipped into ruin, but she could only nod her head.

"Fight for yourself," he quietly bade her.

His hand pulled away, taking with it his warmth, his love.

She opened her eyes and he was gone, and all she could utter were three words.

'Fight for yourself,' repeated in her ears as yellow-amber eyes snapped open in the tumultuous present.

Trying to even labored breathing, Hermione struggled to note her current location through the confusion. She was surrounded by furs, staring at a cloth ceiling that met at a point. Sweat poured liberally into her vision as miniature stints pinched at random intervals across her nervous system. Her muscles ached, and electric currents burned from her neck to her tailbone. Her body was on fire.

She whined, alone in Malfoy's tent as howls sounded in the distance. She was too weak and overcome with pain to move. She bit her lip and whimpered, as she grabbed fistfuls of fur, desperate to grab onto something tangible. Remembering her feverish dream, she wandered if she should let it take her. She so wanted to see Harry again. She wanted to see her parents, and be eleven again, when the worst thing that awaited was an enchanted game of chess.

"Uhhhh," she moaned as she swallowed dryly. Any use of muscle was a reminder of her body breaking down. Malfoy was right, she too physically weak to survive the werewolf blood tearing her body apart.

But still, she would fight. She would die of thirst, die of this blasted fever wreaking havoc on her body, but she would fight until Hades was forced to give her back. Because she was not done with this world yet.

"I will," she gasped to dream Harry, or the ceiling. She laughed weakly in delirium. She was talking to air now.

Sweat-drenched curls clung to her face as she rolled over, repeating her vow to herself. "I will."


Hermione opened her eyes to morning light streaking through the fabric of the tent.

The first thing she took note of was a growling sound. Inhaling through her nose, a savory aroma tickled her nostrils. The growl sounded again; it was her stomach. As she pushed weakly to her elbows, a piece of meat came into view.

Her stomach growled audibly as she attacked the piece of meat offered. It wasn't until she was several bites in that she realized it was rarer than how she took most of her meat. Rivers of blood ran in the crevices of her knuckles.

"Oh, my God," she moaned at the sight.

"A bit of blood helps the sickness to pass," a girl Hermione did not see before, answered the unanswered question. The girl had beautiful brown skin with almond-shaped eyes. Her hair hung in a thick braid down her back.

"That statement shouldn't make sense," Hermione replied as she swallowed the game-y meat, though her stomach had surprisingly settled. "But oddly, it does."

The girl shrugged as Hermione finished the meal in silence. With bloody hands, she grabbed her wand and vanished the bloody mess from her hands and face. The girl did not move as she watched the scene unfold.

"What's your name?" Hermione asked the girl who had watched her unashamedly eat like a pig.

"Sari."

"I recognize you from that first night," Hermione recalled. "You and your mate brought me to Malfoy."

The girl narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the mention of her mate. Scoffing, Hermione asserted, "I don't want your mate."

"Good," Sari stated with a short nod. "You belong to Alpha now."

Hermione laughed at the obscurity of such a statement and shook her head. "No, I don't."

"You carry his seed. I can smell it."

"Well, that was sort of the point of all this. But I," she pointed a finger to her chest, "do not belong to anyone."

Sari lifted a corner of her mouth, smugly. "Can you stand?" she asked with a smirk.

Feeling determined at the girl's arrogance, Hermione peeled off the fur cover and stood carefully to her feet. She was a bit dizzy, but part of her strength had returned now that she had eaten. Once confidently on her feet, Hermione nodded to the girl. Sari smiled and offered Hermione her wand.

Obviously weak from her recent bout with the fever, it took Hermione two tries to transfigure her jeans into a floor length dress that hung snugly on her waist. Pulling her tee-shirt over sensitive breasts, the light fabric did little to hide the shape of her cleavage. However, she mused the pack had little time for modesty as she took in Sari's partial coverings and recalled Malfoy's general state of half-dress. For the time she had been there, he had worn light colored trousers, and nothing else.

"Is it okay to go outside?" Hermione asked, uncertain. She recalled Malfoy's warning before the full moon, but the full moon had passed and if Sari could smell the pregnancy, then she should be alright. But still…

Sari nodded as she pushed the tent flap back to reveal sunshine outside. "You carry the Alpha's scent and his seed. None will harm you, witch."

"Hermione," she corrected, surprisingly comfortable with the brash girl. Perhaps the feisty werewolf reminded her of herself. Sari stood there, hands on hips, so much like her younger, bossy self. Gods, that seemed like a life time ago.

"Her-mione," Sari repeated slowly as the two women navigated over the thick tree roots outside of the tent.

"It's nice to meet you, Sari. Would you mind telling me, where's Malfoy?"

"He is hunting with the pack elders. Alpha told me to check on you and to not let any harm come to you," she explained.

Hermione jumped down from a particularly large root. Dizziness overtook her as she righted herself; she let the moment pass. "Hmm. Tell Alpha next time, I can take care of myself. Well since you're here and he's not, would you mind showing me around?" Interest made Hermione anxious to explore the werewolf pack she would be immersed in for coming weeks.

Sari rolled her eyes, but complied. Hermione got the distinct impression the younger werewolf had to be about fifteen or sixteen years old. As the two walked towards the pack situated within the center of the valley, Sari explained pack life to Hermione.

"The younger and weaker members of pack stay within the center of the pack," Sari pointed out the layers of werewolves as they walked among them. "The stronger stay on the outer rings. They protect the weak."

"Malfoy stays out further than any of them," Hermione noted the significance of this, as she passed through the rings of tents with various occupants. One by one, they emerged from their dwellings to stare at her as she passed. They sported varying looks of disgust and intrigue. Hermione couldn't remember their faces from that first night, but she had been… well, in disposed. But it seemed as if they had not forgotten her.

A woman about her mum's age approached. She placed one hand to Hermione's middle before Hermione could stop her.

Sari snarled at the woman. "Stay back, Winnie!" she warned as she pushed the woman away. The two werewolves growled at each other, which Hermione observed with fascination before the older woman submitted to Sari and fell back.

While Sari stared down the woman, forcing her to retreat, someone else came up to Hermione's side. Quickly, the werewolf buried his nose in her shoulder. Reflectively, Hermione lifted her shoulder and squeezed him out of the intimate area, but as he had neared her heated skin, the man backed away with a grunt. He sneered at her before stalking off.

Sari spoke from behind Hermione. "That is Greyson. He came just before Alpha did. He was checking to see if Alpha gotten a babe on you."

"Why?"

"Some do not believe Alpha that has brought new life to the pack. Greyson was one of them, but he rarely believes anything Alpha says. Some thought Greyson would challenge Fenrir for the pack. But Alpha beat him to it."

Hermione dipped her head to the side, seeking an explanation. "He's not originally from this pack, is he?"

Sari nodded at Hermione's understanding of pack dynamics to recognize Greyson's status as an outsider. "He was exiled from his own pack and came across the sea. Fenrir took him in, and others like him, to grow his numbers."

Hermione pondered, "And Malfoy let him stay?"

"We do not question, Alpha," Sari said the words as if she had said them many times before.

They walked among the throng, and Hermione noted all had willingly parted as she and Sari made their way through. And true to Malfoy's word, none harmed her. They viewed her with contempt or curiosity, but none harmed her. "And what about you?" Hermione queried, unable to slack her need to know. "When did you join the pack?"

"After Alpha turned me," she said simply.

Hermione stopped right then and there. "Malfoy infected you purposefully?!" she said incredulously, the beginnings of anger stirred deep in her belly. Because that, she could not let stand.

"He was made to by Fenrir," Sari replied quietly. "I was fourteen. Throughout the first full moon of my first shift, Alpha never left my side. I could tell afterwards he was not… happy to have done so. Now, I never leave his side," she finished.

Hermione nodded, unsure whether to offer her apologies or sympathy. Unsure how the werewolf would take it, she thought it best to leave it alone. She filed the thought away to speak with Malfoy later.

Once close enough to epicenter of the pack, Sari stopped outside of a tent. A group of four children ran past them, chasing after a ball. Judging by their age, they had to be between eight and ten years-old.

"The last of the children bitten by Fenrir," Sari explained from Hermione's side as they observed the children at play. "We keep them and the elders among us closest to the center to keep them safe. As your pregnancy advances, Alpha will move you here with them."

Hermione smiled, tight-lipped. She would not share the specifics of their deal. There was no need to reveal to the girl that she would soon be leaving.

They entered the tent and sitting on dilapidated chair, was an old woman. Despite the August heat outside and the stuffy air within the enclosed space, the woman was wrapped in furs as if it were the middle of January.

"This is 'the crone'," Sari said by way of introduction. "She wanted to meet you, but cannot stand long enough to make the journey to Alpha's tent."

Hermione looked to the old woman who appeared to be dozing. "She wanted to meet me?"

"Come here," the crone suddenly ordered, her words slurred and whistled from missing teeth.

Sari nodded, indicating for Hermione to move closer.

"It is good to see you well, child," the crone said before breaking out into toothless grin. "I knew the fever wouldn't take you. Strong you were to come here that night. Too strong for the fever." She muttered to herself as if holding a conversation with someone not present in the room.

Unsure what to say to the ancient werewolf with thin, pale hair, and few teeth, Hermione replied, "Thank you."

"Strong children you will give our Alpha. Yes, yes. He needs someone to carry this burden. Dreadful to carry alone. Once you've been birthed, he will need more heirs, too," she laughed. "Yes, more life for the pack."

To that, Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh, no! You don't understand…"

Sari placed a hand to Hermione's arm. "Are you scared we won't be able to assist in the birth when the time comes? We have two former Healers within our pack, you know?"

"No, it's not that," Hermione insisted to Sari and the crone.

"We can assist you, child. Give you what you need," the crone insisted.

"It's not that," Hermione repeated, hesitant to share with Malfoy's pack the specifics of their arrangement.

"You came here looking to get what you needed," the crone stated matter-of-factly.

Hermione slightly narrowed her eyes at the crone's unseeing milky-white irises. "Yes," she admitted carefully.

The crone leaned back into her furs, relaxed. "And you yet you both will leave with so much more."

"Alpha will not let her leave," Sari replied, resolutely. "She carries our future."

The crone laughed. "The girl is fearful of us. Can't you smell her anxiety, little wolf? She's curious about our way of life, intrigued what we can do for her, but in the end, she will leave." Suddenly, the crone cackled. "But you will be back," she assured.

A skeptical brow rose as Hermione replied, "Your Alpha has not marked me, and I am not a werewolf. My friends will wonder where I am if I am gone too long. I need … I need to be back with them."

"But won't your friends be angry when you return in a such a state?" Sari pressed, referring to Hermione's impending journey into motherhood.

"You mean if they see I've returned pregnant?" Hermione clarified with a grimace.

Sari nodded.

Hermione smiled sadly as she stared at her feet. "They won't." Lifting her head, she powered on, "You see … This pregnancy isn't my first."

But instead of responding, Sari dropped to one knee, a fist over her heart. "Alpha, I have kept her safe as you have commanded."

Hermione whirled to face Malfoy, who leveled a stare at her hot enough to make her stomach flip in dread and a blush flame her cheeks.


an: I had to break it there, but the next chapter is coming soon! I continue to be amazed at the response this story. Thank you all so much!