A/N: Hey all. I wanted to give a bit of a heads-up, especially to the fans of my other stories, that it may be a little while before I do some updating. I now have less than 40 hours before I leave on my honeymoon. The hubby and I have been married over four years, but we were never able to take one, so we're spending some time all to ourselves, and I plan on not doing any writing during that time. I will let you know that I am planning on visiting the Wizarding World of Harry Potter during our trip, and I'm kind of hoping for a bit of inspiration for my stories there. Can you tell I'm really excited? I did want to update something before I went, and this chapter has been writing itself in my head for a while.

Some of you may have noticed I've done a little timeline tweeking here, upping Jacob's age a year and dropping a few years off Hermione's. According to cannon these two were born almost 11 years apart. That wasn't going to fly with me, the age difference is hard enough for me to work around already, so we've stepped into the AU. This happens, or at least starts to happen, between Eclipse and Breaking Dawn, and post-DH (without the epilogue). Hope that clears some things up.

Thanks to everyone who has supported this with alerts/faves and especially reviews. Enjoy!

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(Hermione's POV)

Kingsley helped me to my feet before he left, and I looked up towards the house, and cursed the fact that I had been barred from magical transport until I've been cleared by Poppy. The slight downhill had been nice on my way out here, but now I'm looking at a slight uphill, and it looks about as possible as making it from the Potions dungeon to Trelawney's tower in a five-minute passing period.

I sighed and started slowly up the hill- crutch first, then good leg, then hurt leg, then groan of pain. This process repeated itself about three and a half times before I realized there was someone standing in front of me. I don't even need to look up to know it's Jacob.

"Can I help?" he asked.

"Please," I said, holding my arm out, looking to hook it around his bare shoulders (do these wolf boys ever wear shirts? Not that I'm complaining or anything, it just doesn't seem the best way to avoid detection) and support myself against him as we make our way up. But before I could object my arm was around his shoulders, but his arms were very carefully lifting me off the ground.

"You don't need..." I said, blushing as he started back towards the house, carrying me like I'm some kind of injured five year old.

"'s alright. It's hardly a workout," he muttered with the flash of a dazzling smile down at me. My insides melt slightly as he does, that smile would make any woman weak-kneed. Why can I not stop looking at him?

"Thank you," I muttered, resisting the urge to get comfortable against his chest. I really need to get my mind off boys right now. When did I turn into such a bloody girl?

"Dr. Cullen is on his way," he told me, his voice slightly tense. He's not thrilled about the idea of a vampire working on me, but he trusts Dr. Cullen enough to not object to the house-calls. And that seems to be saying something.

"I guess I'm going to have to make myself beautiful, then," I said with a nervous chuckle.

His mouth opened as if to respond, but he locked eyes with me for a brief second and seemed to think the better of it. An almost sheepish look flashed over his face before he focused on shifting all my weight to one arm so he could open the door and carry me inside like a new bride. Without stopping he walked into the living room and deposited me on the couch, which now had a milk crate and a pillow in front of it for me to prop my feet up on.

"Thanks again," I smiled at him as he handed me a glass of water and sunk onto the couch next to me.

"It's no problem," he replied in a low voice. "Do you need anything else?"

"I think I'm okay," I replied, biting my lip. All my questions were trying to force themselves through my lips, but Kingsley didn't want me to do anything until I'm given the all clear. Dr. Cullen is on his way, so I think I can last a few more minutes.

"Do you watch TV?" Jacob asked, fingering the remote on the couch between us.

"Some," I lied. I didn't own a television. I watched a show a week with my Mum when I was younger, but the habit died and now I read for my entertainment. Television is non-existent in the magical world, so it's actually a bit of a hassle to try to watch it, and after living without it for so long I just have very little desire to pick up the habit.

"Do you have a preference?" he asked, turning the set on. "It's the middle of the weekday, so we could watch feminine-geared talk shows, hillbillies fighting over which of them is sleeping with their sisters, a show dedicated to finding baby daddies, soap operas with loads of over-acting, a sports clip show, or the news."

"When you put it like that..." I giggled, unable to stop the smile crossing my face. I need a little humor right now.

"Let me guess, you're really interested in the hillbillies, but you're going to say the news to save face," he grinned at me, only causing my smile to widen.

"You read me like a book," I replied. "I haven't watched trash telly in my twenty-three years, perhaps it's time to cross that line into trash shows."

"I don't know. You seem really smart. Do you really want to risk your brain cells?"

"You're right. An hour of that and I may forget Arithmancy or something. Better play it safe than sorry and watch the news."

He chuckled as he flipped onto the news station, where two political-looking types were arguing about some recent controversy at a high school, but getting nothing more than red in the face. I opened my mouth to ask Jacob his thoughts on the subject, just to hear his voice again, but I was cut off by a knock on the door. Jacob was across the room almost as quickly as he stood up, opening the door to let in Dr. Cullen.

"Hermione," Carlisle smiled, walking towards me. "Good to see you out of bed."

"Good to be out of bed," I smiled as he crouched by my feet.

"Did you get the chance to walk around or anything like that yet?"

"I did a little walking, and I took a shower earlier."

"Any pain?"

"A bit. Not the worst I've ever felt."

He smiled, "no need to put on a brave face."

"I'm not. Compared to some things I've been through, this is a walk in the park."

Jacob, who was standing behind Carlisle with his arms crossed, let off a noise like a soft snarl.

"May I?" Carlisle asked, motioning towards Jacob's room. I held my hand out for him to help me up, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Jacob tense, his hands clenched into tight fists. Carlisle was very gentle in pulling me into a standing position, but then he did something unexpected. He stepped aside and motioned for Jacob to assist me. Jacob seemed okay with allowing the vampire into his home, but he was drawing the line at having him touch more than my hand? Hadn't Carlisle looked me over about a dozen times before? I won't claim to be some kind of expert on vampires, but I'm pretty sure that even mild-mannered Dr. Cullen would have difficulty helping me walk to a different room. I didn't have time to think too much about it, because Jacob stepped forward, carefully wrapped my arm around his shoulders, and walked with me to the bedroom. I sat on the bed and thanked Jacob. Even though he left the room, I had a feeling he was standing just outside the door. Dr. Cullen walked in and closed the door lightly behind him, and I pulled my shirt off to let him look at the damage.

"May I?" he asked, hand moving towards my side.

"Of course," I replied, bracing myself for his icy fingers to hit my skin, and managing not to suck in a breath as they did.

"This is incredible," he murmured with a grin. "Never, in all my years of practicing medicine, have I seen anything like the healing. I thought you wouldn't survive, and yet less than a week later you're sitting here with just some scarring."

"I guess I lucked out being a witch," I replied.

"In the realm of mythical creatures you certainly seemed to pull a good hand. At least, speaking as to what you may have become. From what I understand you have had a bit of difficult time to this point."

"It could have been worse," I shrugged, wincing at the movement.

He spent the next few minutes poking and prodding everywhere my skin was still covered in scars. He paid extra attention to under my breast, where the underwire of my bra had burnt into my skin, and a hand-shaped patch on my arm which was burnt worse than anything else because it was where the vampire had been clutching me as we fell. He also checked my blood pressure and drew some blood to take to the lab back at the hospital.

"Did anything hurt when you were moving around earlier? I noticed a bit of a wince with your shrug," he said as I pulled my shirt back on.

Damn. Busted. "It comes and goes," I try to make it sound like no big deal.

"Going with what I know about medicine, I'm going to ask you to start a bit of a physical therapy program. Short walks, stretches, nothing too stressful. Work your way up to lifting more and more weight with your arm, that sort of thing. Just remember to take it easy, we don't want you to get hurt while you're trying to recover."

"You seem to think that might be a problem for me," I raised an eyebrow.

"Your former professor seemed to think it pertinent to let me know that you are the type to push yourself."

I bit my lip and kept my snide comment to myself. Bloody Severus. I don't need any more bizarre drama in my life right now, so I'm going to ignore what Harry told me.

"I am no magical healer, so all I can do is suggest taking it easy until Madame Pomfrey returns and gives you a final check-up. I think I've done all I can. You have my number, so give me a call if anything doesn't feel right. Other than that I don't think that I need to come back."

"I'm sure Jacob will be thrilled to hear it."

"I'm sure he already is," Carlisle chuckled, putting away his equipment.

"What, is he listening at the keyhole?" I smiled, shooting a look at the door.

"He doesn't have to," he said, tapping his ear. "I'm not the only one around here with super-sensitive hearing."

I froze. "How super-sensitive?" I asked, voice trembling.

"I haven't spent enough time around the wolves to get an exact range, but I'm thinking that their hearing is almost as good as ours."

My jaw dropped, but I tried to sound casual as I asked, "How good is that? Books tend to dwell more on the bloodsucking aspect than your abilities."

"There are a lot of factors such as weather and volume of the conversation, but I can pick up a typical casual conversation at a couple hundred yards on average. It's a little difficult to differentiate different conversations at first, but, at least in my experience, it eventually becomes easier to listen in than it isn't."

Shit. I didn't think to put up a silencing charm or Muffliato when I was talking to Kingsley. I barely remembered to thank Carlisle and bid him goodbye as the thoughts raced through my head. Jacob knew everything. It would only be a matter of time before the whole pack knew.

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(Jacob's POV)

After the medical bloodsucker left Hermione announced that she was tired and wanted to take a nap. I made sure she was comfortable on my bed, then waited for her to fall asleep before making sure my dad was sticking around for a while and taking off for Sam's house. I had to spend ten minutes outside of the house because Sam and Emily were otherwise disposed, but luckily it wasn't another two-hour wait. I gave them a few minutes to bask in the afterglow before knocking on the door. Two minutes later an irritated looking Sam answered the door, but his face softened when he saw me.

"How is she?" he asked, stepping aside so I could come in to talk.

"Dr. Cullen cleared her, but says she shouldn't strain herself until the magical healer clears her. Billy's keeping an eye on her so she doesn't run off, I left her napping," I replied quickly.

"There's something else, isn't there?"

"I overheard her talking to another wizard, I think he's her boss. She's here on a job."

"What kind of job?" he asked, concern written on his face.

"I'm not quite sure exactly what it is, but I'm sure it involves us. She said something about reclassifying us, and that we aren't human killers as previously thought. I think we've got more enemies than we thought."

He nodded, brow furrowed, thinking hard. "What did she say about reclassifying us?"

"That she doesn't think we're human killers, and that she wants to get to the bottom of everything that's going on here before she makes her report."

He chose his next words slowly and carefully. "I think that if she's here to learn everything about us, we should let her. With any luck she'll want to stick around and learn anyways," he finished looking up at me, making it clear that this would be a completely different situation if it weren't for the imprint.

"By everything, do you mean everything?" I asked, hoping the inflection make it obvious I was speaking about the treaty and the Cullens.

"The current state of affairs when it comes to the sheer number of vampires that have been running around has had a big effect on our pack and our tribe. She needs to understand that none of this Olympic wolf crap would have come out if the Cullens never returned and brought back a couple waves of hostile vampires with them."

"Mmm..." I muttered. Suddenly I found myself in the very awkward position of having to thank the Cullens, at least mentally, for coming back, because if they didn't I never would have met Hermione. Though if they didn't come back and I had never turned into a wolf I would have been able to do the 'date and fall in love' thing like a normal person. I hardly know Hermione, and she doesn't seem like the type of girl I'd go for if it wasn't for the imprint, but things are the way they are, and she is now my everything. Man, my head could go in circles on this one for hours.

Sam brought me out of my trance with a thoughtful cluck. "Let's start slow, and show her we're willing to let her in on all the information on us. Do you think that Billy's up to hosting a bonfire tonight?"

"Billy knows my situation, and he's being a father and a tribal leader right now. He'd do anything to keep her around and give me a chance to win her over," I nodded.

"Oh, no, I'm going to have to cook a whole picnic?" Emily complained playfully as she entered the room.

"I'll start making calls, you'll have some help," Sam smiled at her, going to put his arms around her and kiss her temple lightly. God, I want that. I want to be able to hold Hermione, to show her how much I want to be with her every second, but more than that, I want her to want the same thing.

"Are you still keeping the imprint from her?" she asked, face turning serious.

"Yes," I sigh. "I want to tell her, but she doesn't understand the way you do and Kim does."

"She's seen much more magic than the imprint, probably much more complicated magic," she replied. "I doubt anything would take her by surprise at this point."

"Just the same, I'd rather not tell her. If she ever does decide to be with me, I want her to feel like it was her own choice, not like she's being pressured by some kind of ancient magic."

"I see your point, but I don't agree with it," she shrugged.

"Give her a break," Sam smiled. "She's been through a war, she's dealt with that greasy asshole, then she comes to our little quiet corner of the Earth and gets attacked by a vampire. After all that do you think she wants to suddenly have a werewolf panting after her?"

"She'll have it either way. I just want to make sure you're happy, Jake," she shot me a sympathetic smile.

"That's all I want for her, too," I replied softly. We quickly made plans for that night, including me giving Billy a call to give him a heads up. As I expected, he quickly agreed to host and tell the stories, and told me he thought Hermione was starting to stir. I told him I'd be back quickly, thanked Sam and Emily and promised her every favor she would ever need for the sudden need for a shopping trip and cooking spree. She faked like she was put out, but I could tell she would do anything to help me, like our pack mother. There really was something to this imprint, otherwise she wouldn't have been the first one imprinted on. She helped the first of us through their transformation, then was the steady, loving force for the rest of us. I could never make up what I owed Emily, just as I could never make up everything to Sam.

When I got back to my house Hermione was sitting on the porch, using her right foot to rock a chair she seemed to have conjured up, a newspaper called 'The Daily Prophet' open in front of her.

"How's it goin'?" I asked as I hopped over the rail and came to a rest sitting on it.

"I'm feeling pretty good," she asked. "I wish I could go get a treatment for these scars, but I don't think Poppy thought my appearance was the biggest of my concerns. Not that I'm vain or anything, but the longer I wait, the more of them I won't be able to get rid of."

Now I know how Sam can find Emily so beautiful with the scars across her face. I hardly even noticed them. "Do you feel up to going to a bonfire tonight?"

She smirked. "Do you really think that the best place to invite a recovering burn victim is a bonfire?"

I chuckled, "Probably not. But it would be a good place for you to learn the stories of our tribe."

Her face fell slightly. "Did you overhear me talking to Kingsley?"

"I do have superhuman hearing," I replied apologetically. I shouldn't have listened in, but I couldn't help it. I needed to know what she was planning on doing now, I needed to know if she was about to leave and never look back.

"I'm sorry you had to find out about my assignment that way. I should have been upfront about it, but it was supposed to be a secret. I was never supposed to interact with you or your pack, just observe and report. I kind of got thrown into the middle, and I was planning..."

"Calm down," I interrupted her rambling, afraid to know what she was planning. "Now we know about it, and we want to help you. We want whoever you're writing this report for to know that we're not the monsters, we're just protecting our tribe, our land, and our loved ones."

Her lips curled up for a second. "I want to know. I really do. I thought this would be an easy case, and now I realize there's a lot more going on here than I was told. Maybe the American Ministry didn't know, maybe they didn't tell me, but I want to know. It's kind of my nature."

I chuckled.

"You think it's funny, but Ron and Harry were all but convinced I'd be moving into the library of my school."

"I'd want to move in, too, if I was at a magical school. I'm not, so I don't spend that much time in the library of our school. Though part of that might be that my extracurricular activities, and how much time that takes up."

She looked confused for a second. "How old are you?" she asked.

"Seventeen," I muttered. "Though that's just how many years I've been on the planet. Biologically I'm closer to twenty-five," I defended. My age is not going to help anything. "How about you? You said something about twenty-three."

"Well..." she said, biting her lip. "According to my birth certificate I'm twenty-three. I'm probably more like twenty-four because of certain things that went on during my third year."

"What went on during your third year?"

"You know the old saying 'you can't be in two places at once'?"

"Of course," I said, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face. This is going to be good.

"I had a little device that totally proved that one wrong," she said coyly.

"What is it called? The alibi-maker?"

She laughed. "So are you just physically twenty-five, or mentally?" she asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

"Well, Bella and I had this big discussion about that. I'd argue that I'm mentally much older than twenty-five, but for the sake of argument I'll just say that I mentally matured when I physically matured. I mean, I suddenly had my job and my life scripted for me. I only stayed in school because Billy and Sam thought it would look really suspicious if all of us got sick, dropped out, and was seen around town looking like this."

"What would you have done if you had dropped out?" she asked quietly.

"I'd be on pack duty until this whole mess with the Cullens was cleared up. They don't stay in one place more than a few years, and we don't need as big of a pack to handle the once-every-few-decades vampire that wanders into the area. So once the Cullens left I would probably enroll in college, learn to fix cars or something, get a job, and work on my life so I could stop phasing and start living like a normal human."

"You don't really have much choice in the matter, do you?" she muttered mostly to herself.

"Nope," I whispered, studying her face. "Would you like a sweatshirt? You look cold."

"Please," she nodded, still looking thoughtful.

I went inside to retrieve one of my hoodies. When I returned her paper had been laid carefully to one side, mostly obstructed by a plate with a few crumbs of toast still on it, and she was hugging herself, eyes far away.

"Here you go," I said, holding the sweatshirt out. She thanked me and pulled it over her head, then pulled it down as far as it would go, which was about down to her knees.

"It's a little big," she said, rolling up the sleeves.

"I'm sorry," I smiled, thinking of how cute she looked in my clothes. "I don't think Rachel left anything heavier than a t-shirt."

"I'm not complaining. It's warm," she smiled up at me. Before we could get to talking again Sue Clearwater pulled into the driveway and honked before parking and climbing out.

"Hey, Jacob, how are you?" she smiled, walking up to us.

"I'm good, Mrs. Clearwater. How're things?"

"Things would be better if you boys weren't calling sudden tribal meetings all the time. You know how much fun Leah becomes when things blindside her."

"Sorry, Mrs. C," I smiled sheepishly. "Special circumstances."

"So I heard from your father. Where is the old coot?"

"Who are you calling a coot?" Billy asked, pushing himself onto the porch.

"You, old man," she beamed. "I remember the time when you'd be able to push yourself over to the beach. Now you're calling a poor old widow away from her other interests to give you a ride."

"And how is Charlie?"

"Good," she said vaguely, and I start debating tuning them out. The love lives of my elders are nothing I want to be privy to. But Sue changed the subject for me. "You must be Ms. Granger."

"Hermione," Hermione said, shaking her hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine. Anyone who can keep my kids from having to tussle with a vampire is a friend in my book."

"Sue is Leah and Seth's mother," I explained. "They're both part of the pack."

"I suspected Seth might be," she nodded. "I met him a couple hours before my accident, he was outside the store with a couple other boys that all looked like they may be part of the pack."

"Was he nice to you?" Sue asked.

Hermione let off a chuckle. "You could say that he was."

Sue shot me a look. "I wouldn't worry about that," she said, downplaying the incident I didn't even know about. "He's at that stage where he's like that with most girls, well, women."

My jaw tightened., but I couldn't get mad at Seth. At the time she wasn't an imprintee, and therefore not untouchable, but I still didn't like the idea of the little punk hitting on my girl.

"Are we going to get going?" Billy asked a little too loudly, trying to keep me from getting angry. It's nice having a father who knows so much about the pack, he's saved me from phasing unnecessarily more than a couple times.

"We'll catch up," I said.

"You're still putting him in the car," Sue said strictly.

"Yes, ma'am!" I saluted, then wheeled my dad to her car and hoisted him in. I bid them goodbye and walked back to Hermione.

"It's a short ride, but their conversations would make almost anyone want to run screaming after two minutes," I explained.

"Is it time to go, then?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'll drive my car," I said, reaching down to pull her into a standing position. She bent over and grabbed her wand from the table, made the newspaper disappear, and stowed the wand in her pocket. She wrapped her arm around me, and I helped her towards the garage. When we made it inside I let her go so I could clear off the passenger seat, which had my school stuff from the previous year still sitting on it. I haven't driven the thing since school let out for summer.

"Is this yours?" she suddenly asked.

I straightened up and looked at what she was talking about, and found her running her hand over the seat of my motorcycle.

"Yeah," I replied. "I fixed it up myself."

"It looks good," she said, studying the bike.

"Do you ride?" I asked in disbelief.

"Could we take it to this bonfire?" she asked, not answering my question.

"Are you sure you're up to it?" I asked, concerned.

"That depends. Are you good enough to control it?"

I scoffed. "Are you doubting my riding abilities?" I walked towards her, trying to look as menacing as possible with the smirk across my face.

"You are kind of young," she shot back, standing her ground, looking completely unfazed.

As a reply I picked her up and gently placed her on the back of the bike, then climbed on in front of her. The rush I felt as I took off towards the beach wasn't from riding the machine again, but from the fact that Hermione's hands were clutched around my abs, her body pressing into mine, her head rested against my shoulder to block the wind.