Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with Harry Potter or have any relation to its publishers or distributors and I do not profit from writing fanfiction.
"Ron's safe, everyone!" called Harry from the kitchen of The Burrow.
The red-headed residents of the old, unsturdy wooden home could be heard bounding towards the kitchen as if in a race to secure the last piece of treacle tart. Weasleys poured into the room from every door, and Harry saw that all but George were present. Harry and Hermione felt the stares of several pairs of hopeful eyes.
"He's not safe, Harry," argued Hermione.
"He's quite safe with the Deluminator. It'll be incredibly hard to catch him in complete darkness."
"What are you talking about?" demanded Percy as Harry noticed George appearing at the doorway, looking into the room with little interest.
"Ron can't use the Deluminator when he's transformed," said Hermione. "They'll catch him then."
"Who will catch him?" demanded Ginny, one of several very confused Weasleys. "Transformed to what?"
"Ron's decided to run away again," said Hermione, trying to sound informative but unable to hide her anger.
"Why?"
"Because he's a—he's a complete—"
"Actually," Harry interrupted quickly before Hermione could locate a word vile enough to describe her opinion of Ron. "I reckon Ron chalks it up to the fact that he's a werewolf."
Harry raised his hands to try and quell the shrieks of 'What!' and 'No!'
"Ron's a werewolf, infected during the battle by Fenrir Greyback." As Harry said this, Hermione's head shot up in realization and she dashed to The Burrow's garden and disappeared with a *pop*, only offering a quiet 'Be right back.'
"So why did he leave?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "And where has he gone?"
"He left because he was afraid he'd hurt one of us." Harry spotted George walking back up the stairs to his room. "He's hiding in the Forbidden Forest, but the Centaurs are... Not welcoming him."
"You mean 'hunting him,'" said Ginny. "Hermione said he wasn't safe."
"No one is completely safe in the forest," argued Harry.
"Take me to see him," ordered Ginny, shooting him a fierce look.
"Tomorrow—it'll be safer to see him in the day," said Harry, and it made enough sense for Ginny to agree. Harry sat down at the table to discuss the situation with the family he considered his own.
Hermione sat cross-legged on Ron's bed, which she had neatly made, her nose so far into a book you could play a disastrous game of Exploding Snap in the room without disturbing her. Her features were tense in concentration as she perused an old, worn copy of Beating The Moon. Beside her lay several tattered, dusty books that had been thrown hastily over her bed. She had been zooming through titles such as So You Have The Fuzzy Curse and Werewolf Do's and Don'ts all night and had scribbled notes across several pages of parchment.
She licked her dry lips and realized she had developed a thirst. She saved her place and tossed the book aside, then hopped off the bed. She winced upon landing; it had been several hours since she had started her research and the floor was now chilly under her bare feet. After hearing Percy's complaints of noisiness on the night Ron disappeared, she was careful not to anger the creaky staircase.
She walked into the kitchen quietly and could barely make out the shape of the kitchen table in the darkness of what appeared to be a moonless night. She raised her wand and took aim at the candle placed in the middle of of the table and fired a precise breath of blue flame through the candle's wick, igniting it.
As she lit the candle, it illuminated the face of a familiar ginger-haired boy. Hermione froze in shock, her eyes as big as golf balls as she stared into Ron's blue eyes, which shone dimly and both reflected the small orange flame of the candle.
"Hello," said Ron, amused by Hermione's expression as it changed from fright to exasperation to indignation.
"Don't scare me like that!" hissed Hermione in as loud a whisper as she could manage.
"Me? I was just sitting here minding my own business when you came along shooting fire. Nearly singed my bits off."
Hermione opened her mouth to respond but found herself distracted by Ron's bare chest yet again.
"Oh, where is your shirt?" she finally snapped.
"Long story, I'll tell you later."
"What are you doing here?" Hermione spoke with combating hints of bitterness and hope. "I thought you weren't coming back."
"Things have changed," said Ron seriously. "I can't come back yet, but I want you to prepare the Wolfsbane potion for when I do, if that's all right."
"What's changed your mind?" asked Hermione briskly.
"This." Ron stood up and gestured for Hermione to follow him into the other room where she could hear the crackling of the fireplace.
Before leaving, Hermione waved her hand over the small flame atop the candle in the kitchen, extinguishing it with wandless magic; a trick she learned from mimicking Albus Dumbledore.
"Show off," muttered Ron as he led her to the other room.
As Hermione followed Ron into the much more well-lit living room, she set her eyes on a small figure standing by the fire to warm itself. It was unmistakably a Centaur, with the upper body of a young girl protruding from the body of a pony. Her long, wavy cinnamon hair reached her shoulder blades, with bangs that covered her forehead, and her similarly colored tail was swaying idly behind her. When the Centaur girl turned to face her, Hermione saw smooth, pale skin, full lips, glassy eyes of a dim honey-yellow hue and an oversized orange Chudley Cannons T-shirt over the Centaur girl's chest.
There Hermione stood like a statue, registering the sight before her. Questions flooded into her mind, but Ron didn't appear to understand the weight of the situation, as he was in front of the fireplace with his usual grin.
"Look," he urged; he waved his hand over the fireplace, causing the flames to disappear, though Hermione noticed a silver cigarette lighter in his other hand.
"That's cheating," said Hermione as Ron restored light to the fire with a chuckle. 'It's good to hear him laugh again,' she thought; a thought which, she then realized, was rather inappropriate at a time like this. Hermione also noticed a light, squeaky giggle coming from the Centaur girl.
"Hermione, this is Helinora," said Ron with a smile, inviting Hermione to approach. Hermione extended a hand for Helinora to shake, and Helinora flinched timidly.
"Nora, she won't hurt you," whispered Ron. "She's really nice."
Hermione gave a weak smile as the girl took her hand and shook it. She couldn't have been older than 6 or 7, if Centaurs could be judged by human standards.
"Hello, Herminy," said Helinora.
"Her-my-oh-nee," corrected Ron. "We reckon her parents were Confunded."
Hermione scowled.
"Hermione," repeated Helinora with a smile, and Ron nodded to her happily.
Hermione cleared her throat, then said, "Ron, why—"
"Is George here?" asked Ron.
"I think so," said Hermione. "He was set to move back into the shop, but he came back last night."
Ron turned to Helinora and crouched down to eye level. Hermione noticed a warm, caring look in his eye, and beamed with admiration.
"Stay here, okay? We're going to get help."
Helinora nodded.
As Ron and Hermione ascended the stairs, Hermione stared sidelong at her boyfriend, considering which question to begin with.
"I'll explain everything when we find George," said Ron, spotting her inquisitive gaze.
"I think I've figured out why you're transforming at such odd times."
"Yeah?"
"I've read that if you fight the curse, which you've appeared to have done, complications can arise."
"Oh, that's good then," replied Ron bitterly. "So all I've got to do is give in and go on some sort of rampage."
"I'll be making the Wolfsbane, and we can try that," said Hermione. "If if isn't effective, we'll figure something out."
Ron and Hermione arrived at George's door, and silently pushed it open without knocking. Ron poked his head into the room to find his brother sitting up in his bed and staring back at him.
"Hello, brotherman," said George with a smirk as Ron and Hermione entered. "Howl's it going?"
"Ha-ha. Say, George, can you heal cuts? Say, for instance—"
"The bite of a werewolf?" said George with a glance at Hermione. "Should I start calling you Hermoonie?"
"I haven't been bitten," said Hermione, though with a smile. "It's... Ron, please tell us what it is."
"Helinora's a Centaur—thought you'd have worked that out." George's smirk faded and Hermione's eyes narrowed.
"A Centaur?" asked George as he stood up from his bed. "You've brought a great, galloping Centaur in our house?"
"I know, Mum would have a fit, but I had to."
"Oh, do go on." George crossed his arms.
"Alright, here's the story: I became a werewolf the night of the battle, ran away because I knew I was dangerous. I'm hiding in the Forbidden Forest using the Deluminator—"
"We know that much, get to the bit where you kidnap a Centaur already!" huffed Hermione.
"I didn't effing kidnap anyone—I've been transforming day and night, you know, it's been real rough—sometimes, my hunger gets the best of me when I'm human, so you can imagine what it's like as a wolf... and I attacked the first thing I found, which was Helinora. I bit her in the stomach, but when I saw her face I couldn't do it, I c-couldn't... eat her." Ron winced as he noticed Hermione's wide eyes and dropped jaw.
"How'd she taste?" asked George. Ron went stony. "Well, sorry, excuse me, just trying to diffuse the—"
"So you brought her here to be healed?" demanded Hermione suddenly. "Ron, I'm sure the Centaurs have ways of healing wounds!"
"Yes, I'm sure they've got some galactic interplanetary method, but, y'see, after I attacked her..." Ron was now grimacing painfully. "The Centaurs knew that the werewolf curse would prevent her from bearing children. They said she was useless now that she was unable to give birth and they tried to kill her."
"Lovely creatures, them," said George as Hermione's hands covered her mouth. Tears threatened to glide down her cheeks.
"That's horrible!" she cried.
"I know, I've ruined her life, I've hurt her, made her outcast by her own race, and taken away any chance she's had at having children," said Ron weakly. "I saved her, and the Centaurs weren't happy about that."
"Don't you dare blame yourself!" warned Hermione.
"You couldn't help it, brother, you're a blinking werewolf for Odo's sake," said George with a pat on the back. "Let's fix her up."
Ron nodded and led the way down the stairs, but stopped dead at the bottom of the staircase. Someone had gasped loudly from the living room. The three bolted into the room, and spotted Harry Potter, his jet-black hair shining in the light of the fire. In the corner, shaking, was little Helinora, who galloped quickly to Ron's side, hiding from the new faces.
"Ron!" breathed Harry. "There's a bloody Centaur in here!"
"Watch your language and keep your voice down!" hissed Hermione.
"No, Hermione, this is too much—all this—this mentality—it warrants the use of bad language—bad fucking language, I daresay!"
"There—are—children—present!" admonished Hermione, pounding Harry on the arm with every word.
"Might I remind you lot that it's the middle of the night and there are four slumbering Weasleys upstairs, all on-edge, one of them a humongous prat; might do to keep it down, that's all," said George.
Helinora was backing into a corner, away from all the fuss, when Ron patted her on the shoulder and guided her back to the group. "It's okay, things are just a bit tense here, Nora, but they're okay."
"I'm sorry if I frightened you," said Harry.
"This is Harry, he's my best friend," said Ron, smiling as Helinora shook Harry's hand.
"And this is my brother George, he's going to heal you."
Hermione began explaining Helinora's tale to a bemused Harry as Ron carefully observed George's interaction with the young Centaur girl. Despite her reactions of caution to Hermione and Harry, Helinora seemed to trust George's calm manner right away. George crouched down and lifted Helinora's orange Chudley Cannons shirt up to her ribs, revealing a belt of bandages around her stomach. He then gently placed the tip of his wand at the center of the bandage and began murmuring a complicated incantation, speaking so fast it sounded like gibberish. The gob of blood that stained the bandages shrunk until it disappeared, and George unraveled them to reveal a smooth, healthy stomach.
"Thank you, George," said Helinora politely. She had a way of speaking very clearly and calmly that reminded Harry of Firenze, another Centaur who was outcast by his race and now lived at Hogwarts school.
"I don't understand," said Harry. "The Centaurs said the slaughter of foals was a terrible crime."
"Those Centaurs are off by Grawp's cave now," said Hermione. "There's no Magorian, no Ronan—even Bane wouldn't stand for this!"
"How did that happen?"
"It happened during the Battle of Hogwarts," replied Helinora. "It was after the leaders of the tribe saw the half-giant Hagrid, and you" — she nodded to Harry — "Hagrid said you were dead, and Magorian, Ronan, and Bane ordered the tribe to defend Hogwarts."
"Bane did that?"
"Yes, but the order was not unanimously followed," continued Helinora. "Many within our tribe refused to defend the human school, and, as Magorian's faction declared an attack on the Dark forces, Deralon rallied those that stayed behind, and he is now chief."
"And suddenly their ethics have changed under him?" asked Hermione.
"To Deralon's faction, a foal with no potential is a burden," said Helinora calmly. "They were also concerned that I would become violent like a wolf."
"Where will she go?" asked George.
"Ron!" pleaded Helinora suddenly. "I don't want to go back!"
"Helinora, how do you feel about living with humans?" asked Hermione, smiling down at the young Centaur girl as Ron calmed her with a tight embrace.
"May I? When I grow strong enough, I will hunt for you," sold Helinora eagerly.
"Don't worry," said George. "You'll be able to live here, and if you can't, you can live with me in Diagon Alley, I promise."
"This isn't a joke," warned Ron. "If you're trying to attract customers, George..."
"As though I'd need it!"
"You're welcome here, Helinora," added Hermione with a smile.
"There's, er, a free bed in my room," said George. He was supplied with apprehensive looks from everyone but the girl to whom he spoke. "Come, get some rest."
At that, George walked Helinora up to his room carefully, his typical smile returning from its absence since the death of his brother. Harry looked to Hermione who was also smiling, but at George, then looked around at Ron, but he was gone.
"Ron?" asked Harry as he snuck around the house, scanning it for his best friend. "Where are you?"
Harry heard a groan from the next room and hurried into it to find Hermione pouting grumpily.
"Oh, where does he think he's going?" huffed Hermione. "He can't go back to the forest, he simply can't."
"Tea?" offered Harry.
"Please. I'll need to get started on the Wolfsbane."