Disclaimer: None of J.K.'s belong to me, only the ones I made are mine.
Luna was there when I entered the Shrieking Shack carrying the unconscious Hermione, and she had clothes for me.
"Millicent attacked you?" she asked, frowning as she set a dusty pillow on the couch to support Hermione's head when I moved to lay her down.
"She did," I said, pushing a few strands of hair out of Hermione's face. "And I ended up knocking her out."
Luna gave me a look.
"What?" I snapped. "What else was I supposed to do? I can't kill her right here on neutral ground!"
"Are you going to report her to her alpha?"
"More than likely," I nodded, pulling on the pair of pants my friend had brought before slipping into the black t-shirt. "You owled my father, right?"
"Yes," the blonde flopped down on the arm chair my mother had been sitting on during our meeting. "What do you think he'll do? I mean, she was going to find out soon anyway, but does the fact that you were attacked change anything?"
"I don't know, Luna," I sat on the floor against the couch and held my head in my hands. "We won't know that until my father gets here."
"Shouldn't be too long," Luna said, gazing out through the broken window. "I owled him about an hour ago and sent your owl."
That made me smile; my owl was a large black one with glowing yellow eyes. Her name was Tierra, and she only cooperated with those that she knew well. If anyone tried to use her that she didn't know, she'd just fly away from them, hooting indignantly.
After almost an hour of sitting there, I stood and began pacing, keeping an eye on Hermione at all times. Watching her steady breathing as she slept, I realized she was no longer unconscious, but simply sleeping. She looked so innocent and it broke my heart to know that she was getting involved with some of the least innocent people this planet had to offer.
"How do you think she'll fit in?" Luna's voice was soft, tentative.
I stopped my pacing and looked at her, disbelieving. "She won't be the first human to be part of the Pack, Luna," I growled.
Holding her hands up defensively, she looked down at the floor again.
Before much more time passed, there was a loud CRACK! and my father was standing in the middle of the room, eyes ablaze in the glow of the fire Luna had started in the hearth.
I looked at Hermione quickly and, somehow, she was still asleep, and then looked back to my father.
"What the hell has happened?" he demanded, storming over and backhanding me across the face. I stood and took the punishment he offered me. Better this pain than the pain he would inflict if I'd tried to duck. "How could you allow a weakling such as the Bulstrode pup to catch you with your guard down?"
"I'm sorry father," I said, wiping a line of blood away from my mouth.
"What's going on?" a small, meek voice came from behind me and I whirled on Hermione to find her sitting up against the corner of the couch, huddled beneath my jacket.
"It's ok, Hermione," I sat next to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Don't worry. He won't hurt you."
"But he'll hurt you," she said, touching the new line of blood dripping down from the corner of my mouth.
"He is my Pack Leader and my father, Hermione," I kept a straight face and glanced at him. "He has the right to hurt me if it is suitable for the occasion."
"What did you do?"
"I revealed myself to you before it was time," I swallowed hard. "But I had no choice," I added, turning my head to Dad.
He looked around, saw Luna but left her alone, then looked back to me. For a minute, his breathing was heavy and he seemed to be trying to calm himself down. As he was going to speak, there was another loud CRACK and my mother was standing next to him, eyes full of concern.
When those eyes fell upon Hermione, she rushed forward. "Stand with your father, Pansy," she shoed me away and sat next to the quivering brunette. "I will sit with Miss. Granger. Talk to her, dear," she added to her husband.
As I stood before my father, looking him square in the eye, I waited for him to speak. Waited to be struck again; I expected to be struck again.
What I didn't expect, though, was for him to rush forward and hug me close to him, encasing me in his huge form. "I'm sorry, Pansy," he whispered to me. "I lost my temper; I should have talked to you before I slapped you. But now, seeing the way you look at her, the gentleness you treat her with," he sighed and rested his forehead against my shoulder, "it reminds me of when I met your mother. I no doubt had the very same look in my eyes."
As he continued to hug me, I could hear my mother speaking gently to Hermione, but couldn't make out what she was saying.
My father and I held one another for a few minutes longer before I felt a hand on my shoulder. Pulling away from Dad, I turned and was inches away from Hermione as she stood by me.
"I'll go to your home with you," she said, blushing. "Your mum explained enough to me that I realize it really would be in my best interest. I don't really want to die, yet."
I smiled at that last and blushed. Her scent wafted around me and my beast shivered and sighed, content to be touching the object of our affections.
"That's very logical of you," I said, finally able to speak again after a minute.
"I've made the arrangements," Dad said, pulling his wife to his side and pushing his beast from his eyes. "You're not off of school; they will be sending work and notes for you three. I'm not sure how long it'll take, but it is until further notice."
"What did you tell them?" I asked, curious.
"Do you honestly believe I haven't told Professor Dumbledore what we are?" he raised an eyebrow. "He is the only one who knows, and the only one I had to talk to in order to make these arrangements. And so, I told him the truth."
"Oh," and that was all I could say about it.
My mother took Luna's hand in her own and pulled Hermione into a one armed hug before apparating away with them.
"She still doesn't realize what is expected to happen," Dad sighed, squeezing my shoulder.
"No," I shook my head. "I don't know how well that'll go over with her. For someone as strong willed as Hermione, the will to live may not be as great as the pride in her."
"Then you'll have to turn up the charm, dear," he smirked. "You're my daughter; I know you can do it."
With that, I felt sick for a moment and then I was standing in the middle of the foyer at the Pack mansion. My mother and two friends were standing near the stairs waiting for us.
Best to get it over with in the morning, love, my mother's voice sighed in my head. The sooner you break the news to her, the sooner she can get over the shock of it. Luna will go to her room and you take her up to your own room and put her to bed.
Yeah, room. If it could be called that. My "room" was actually more like a villa. It had its own bathroom, living room, bar, and two bedrooms.
Ok, I nodded at her and moved toward them.
"We have a lot we need to talk about, Hermione," I sighed, offering her my hand.
Still looking a bit skeptical, she took my hand and began walking up the stairs, leaving Luna and my parents behind.
Luckily, none of the Pack members were hanging around the mansion, so we got to my room without incident and I closed the door. Hermione dropped my jacket on one of the black leather couches in the living room and looked around, eyes wide.
"This is your room?" she frowned as I moved toward the door to the guest room and led her inside.
"I'm the only child of the strongest Pack in Europe's alphas daughter," I smiled at her. "This is more a symbol of status than that of being spoiled, really," I explained. "The biggest, baddest have the best. That's just how it is in the Pack."
She looked around the room, mouth hanging open and I smiled even wider. I had personally decorated every inch of my room. For the guest room, I had gone with a very "Henry the Eighth" time era look. The bed was enormous and not for no reason, to be honest. Most of the guests who had stayed with me were other werewolves and, as I've mentioned, we like to sleep knowing someone is right beside us when we can.
I didn't plan on that, though. Too soon.
"Do you like it?" I asked, hopefully.
"It's amazing," she sighed, laying her hand on the bed and walking along beside it. "I'm afraid to sleep on this," she admitted with a chuckle. "I don't want to ruin it."
"That's what the house staff is for," I frowned. "They come in around noon and make the beds."
"House elves?" Hermione turned her skeptical eyes toward me.
"No," I rolled my own eyes. "They are paid, young werewolves who need a place to stay so they work for us."
"Oh," she looked surprised and I had to laugh.
"However, I'm sure that a house elf delivered that," I nodded at her trunk at the foot of the bed.
"Thank God," Hermione sighed, falling to knees in front of her trunk and opening it, pulling out a lacy night gown.
I felt my eyes widen as I had a mental image of Hermione wearing the skimpy gown flash through my mind. "I have to get to bed," I said quickly. We need to talk in the morning, but right now, let's just get some sleep, ok?"
Nodding, she gave me a small smile and said, quietly, "goodnight."
"Goodnight," I nodded back, leaving the room quickly.
Go back, my beast growled. She wants us!
No, I refused. I'm running this show. It's my life, not yours.
For now.
I blocked the beast from my mind and rushed into my room. My own room was decorated in black and silver, very modern looking. I quickly shed my clothes and flopped onto my bed, writhing sensually against the cool silk sheets on my warm, bare skin.
The silk was a welcome touch, but not as welcome as that of another person beside me would have been. I wanted someone with me, but that wouldn't happen tonight.
Exhaustion overtook me within minutes and I fell into sleep's warm embrace; lying atop the silk sheets and hugging a matching pillow to me.
My dreams were filled with innocent brown eyes and long, heavenly brunette hair. My hands traveled over soft skin and the sweetest of breathy voices whispered words of encouragement to me.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!"
I bolted upright in my bed and looked around, my vision still blurry from sleep. Finally, I caught sight of Hermione standing about five feet away from my bed, her face a brilliant shade of scarlet.
"What's wrong?" I frowned, jumping up and automatically realizing the answer to the question.
I was naked.
Fighting the temptation to roll my eyes, I just knelt on my bed and looked at her for a moment before speaking. "You saw me naked last night," I raised my eyebrow.
"It was dark last night," she pointed out. "It's very bright in here." Her eyes were directed at the floor and I looked around the room.
It had many windows and, even with the curtains covering them, the room was very bright as the sun made its presence known.
I sighed, and wrapped the top sheet around me as one would a towel. "Is that better?" I asked, chuckling lightly.
Hermione looked up, tentatively, and nodded before sitting on my huge bed, four feet away from me but she still sat.
"I don't understand the taboo against nudity," I broke the silence after about a minute. "Our bodies are natural; we were born naked, so what's the big deal?"
Even if I was furry, I was still naked; so it's not really a lie, I reasoned with myself.
"It's just that I think of being naked as a privet and intimate thing," she blushed even deeper and I had to smile.
"I see."
I didn't say another word; waiting for her to initiate the conversation I knew she was looking to have.
"Why am I here?" she asked, after five minutes of silence.
"Because you know our secret," I said, shifting so I was sitting Indian style.
"And outsiders who know your secret are normally killed," she stated. "You told me that yesterday. How do you expect to save my life? Your mum told me that you may be able to keep me alive and then some. How is that?"
I frowned and looked down, now my turn to blush. "I don't know if you will like it," I admitted. "I know I would like it, but you… you have every reason in the world not to want it."
"Would you just tell me straight?" Hermione demanded. "Believe it or not, I do get sick of having to figure everything out."
I looked at her, allowing my eyes to meet hers and hold them as I spoke. "We are allowed to mate outside of our kind," I said, sighing. "But, if we do, the mate we take is our mate for life. And, Hermione," I added, "I will not allow you to be killed."
She stared at me for the longest time before I saw anger begin to cloud her eyes and her eyebrows furrowed into a look of pure rage. "You expect me to be your mate?" she looked ready to slap me. "Just like that? After everything you put me through? We've been semi-friends for only a few months, and yet now, after years of hating me-."
"Hating you?" I raised an eyebrow. "Don't you understand yet? Everything I ever said or did to you before this year was me acting the part."
"What part?"
"The part of a Slytherin," I rolled my eyes at her. "They hate muggles and muggle-borns. They're just hateful in general, actually. I couldn't afford for anyone to know my secret, so I had to act the part. Including following Malfoy around like a lost puppy. This year, though, I decided I was finished with that!" I added, leaning toward her. "I decided I wanted to be my own person and find my own way to keep my secret. I don't want to be the person I was in the past anymore. I want to be myself."
"And what exactly does that mean?" Hermione scoffed at me.
"It means that I don't want to act hateful anymore, because that's not me," I nearly screamed at her, jumping out of my bed. Her comfort be damned, it was time to show her that I was serious. "I'm a very caring and nice person, but I can be cruel when the occasion calls for it. I am to be Alpha, Hermione," I said. "I'm going to lead the Pack one day."
"But why do I have to be your mate?" she spat at me.
"Because I won't let you die!" I slammed my fist against my dresser. "If we are not mated, the pack will insist upon your death and I won't let that happen."
"I don't think that's really your choice, now, is it?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at me, standing and facing me directly. "I refuse to be married only because it has to be that way. Call me old fashioned, but I've always thought love was supposed to be one of the reasons to marry someone."
"You don't know anything about how I feel," I growled at her, no doubt my beast showing in my eyes but she wouldn't understand that. She didn't know that my wolf was trying to burst free of my body.
"You want me to be your mate, so that I can live and my death won't be on your conscience," she placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. "That sounds about right to me, isn't it?"
"No!" I roared at her, ripping at my hair and fighting against my beast as she rolled to the surface, ready. Her scent was wafting around me again, my beast ripping at my flesh from the inside. It wanted the woman in front of me, and it was determined to have her. "Please, Hermione! Stop making me upset, you don't understand what's happening to me!"
"Then tell me!"
"You wouldn't understand it!" I growled. "You don't have to share your body with a wolf that is always begging to come out. You don't have to have near perfect control to keep from jumping on the beautiful girl standing in front of you!"
That stopped her and me as well. I looked at her for a moment before bolting out through the open window in the living room.
My beast broke free as I hit the woods, but I managed to keep my mind. My body twisted and soon I was just the black and white wolf running through the trees behind my home. Trying to figure out what exactly I was going to do with Hermione, but I needed to get as far away from her as possible right then.
Coward. Go back! Take her! Punish her!
No, I growled at my beast, I won't hurt her, and I won't let you hurt her either.
Meanwhile:
Hermione leaned out of the window, amazed at what she had just witnessed and heard. Pansy's room was on the fifth floor of the mansion and she had jumped it as easily as if it had been the first floor.
Pansy has trouble being around me because she wants me so much? Hermione thought to herself. She can't just expect me to say yes and accept all of this at a moments notice. She just can't and I can't allow myself to be married, or mated, out of need. No, I would never allow myself to do that.
The door opened behind her and she whirled around to see Pansy's father, the Pack leader, standing there looking straight at her. His deep amber eyes full of concern and confusion at the same time.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but the whole house heard you two screaming at each other and I thought I should come see what was happening. I'm guessing she jumped from the window and ran off?"
Hermione nodded, not sure what she could say to the man.
"She'll be back soon," he sighed, sitting down in one of the leather armchairs and gesturing for Hermione to sit down as well. She did, for fear of angering the man she's witnessed backhand Pansy so hard she'd started to bleed. "In all honesty," he said, eyes boring into Hermione's own, "there were better ways for her to handle that. Then again, seduction is not her strong point right now. It's what she has been trying to avoid since she saw you on the train, really, Hermione."
The brunette found her voice, finally, and frowned. "That long?" she asked. "Ever since the train?"
"Admittedly, it wasn't as strong on the train as it became the first time she smelled you in heat," he shrugged. "But after that, well, you've been haunting her every dream and every thought, young lady. What Pansy doesn't even realize is that her beast has chosen you as her mate for her. It happens to all of us if we don't choose one by the time the beast is ready. I married my wife two days after our seventh year in Hogwarts. It always happens relatively young."
Hermione looked down at the carpet, not sure what to say to the man in front of her. His mentioning her being "in heat" made her uncomfortable; it wasn't a phrase that was often used for humans of any sort. She just didn't know what to make of the way Pansy and her father talked; it seemed, though she had only just met her, that Pansy's mother was more soft and understanding of Hermione's position.
"But you have put us in a very awkward position, Hermione," Pansy's father said, bringing her attention back to him. "Not intentionally, no, but it must be dealt with. We could wipe your memory, but that would include wiping Pansy completely from your mind and making her move to a different school.
"And for Pansy, to be without you, would drive her completely insane. Knowing that you don't even remember her could possibly open the gate for her beast to take over her life completely; living for her so that she wouldn't have to go through the pain of being without you. It's a very cruel fate that would befall her in the case of wiping your memory.
"Killing you could possibly do the very same to her, not to mention it would mean taking the life of such a sweet innocent young woman as yourself," his eyes softened and the look on his face was like that of a father looking at his misbehaving daughter. How often had Pansy received that very look? "The Pack does not like killing young people such as yourself, but we are very protective of our secret and will do anything to keep it. The last time all witches and wizards knew about us, we were enslaved for three hundred years. We will not allow that to happen again, Hermione. Do you understand me?"
Hermione stared at him, unsure of how to find her voice again. She understood it; she understood that she had one of three choices: Have her memory wiped completely of Pansy forever, be killed, or become Pansy's mate for life.
"I understand," she said. "But I just can't be her mate out of need like everyone is saying needs to be done."
"No one has said that," Pansy's father looked sad. "It is quite obvious that my daughter is completely in love with you. She is unsure of the way you feel about her; that is what has been giving her beast so much power over her actions. She doesn't know if that love is returned. Is it?" he added, raising an eyebrow.
Hermione fidgeted in her seat for a moment, wringing her hands and making small noises of confusion. "I don't know," she said, finally. "It's too soon to know that! She never even asked me out or anything! I've never had the chance to get to know her."
"Then why don't you offer a trial period to her?" he raised an eyebrow. "Mating rituals do not take place until after the first full moon of the spring. You will have plenty of time to date and spend time getting to know my daughter."
"About six months," Hermione said, mostly to herself. "It's still not a very long time."
"It is the best I can do for you, dear," Pansy's father seemed so sincere and he wasn't yelling as Hermione had expected to happen. "The decision is ultimately yours but get to know my daughter and you will see who she really is. Now, I believe it is time to get some food into you. Pansy will join us, I have no worries about that, but you need cooked food, and breakfast is about to be served in the dining room. Come with me, dear." Mr. Parkinson stood and held out his hand to Hermione, offering to help her up.
Tentatively, Hermione placed her small hand in the larger one and she allowed him to pull her into a one armed hug around the shoulders, keeping her there as they walked.
He steered her down the stairs and into the foyer again before turning to the right and through open double doors.
The dining room was huge with a table to match. It was long and made out of a very dark wood. There was room for twenty people at it, but only three were currently sitting at the far end, five including Hermione and Mr. Parkinson.
There was Luna and Mrs. Parkinson, but the other one, Hermione had never met before.
Sitting across from Luna was a girl who looked to be about thirteen with long platinum blond hair that reached down to the middle of her back.
Mr. Parkinson led Hermione to the seat beside Luna before taking his seat at the head of the table with his wife.
"How did you sleep, Hermione?" Luna smiled at her.
"Ok, I suppose," she said quietly. "This is just a lot to take in at once."
"No doubt, dear," Mrs. Parkinson smiled, patting Hermione's hand. "My daughter is a little … off lately."
"A little?" the young blond girl raised an eyebrow. "She's never lost control like that before."
"Enough," Mrs. Parkinson snapped. "Hermione, this is my niece, Rasha."
"Nice to meet you," Hermione smiled nervously.
"Likewise," Rasha nodded as a door to the far left of the room opened and five people came out carrying large platters of food and setting them on the table.
As Mrs. Parkinson began filling my plate, piling it high with eggs, bacon, pancakes, sausage, toast, potatoes, and pouring a tall goblet of orange juice for me, the dining room door opened.
Pansy, now dressed, stalked into the room and toward her little cousin.
Pansy:
"What crawled up your butt and died, Pansy?" my little cousin, Rasha, snickered at me.
"Why is it," I growled, pulling out the chair next to her and sitting down across from my mother, "every time you open your mouth, I introduce my foot to your face?"
"Pansy!" Mom shot her gaze at me as she finished pouring syrup on Hermione's pancakes.
"I'm sure Hermione can feed herself, Mom," I sighed, embarrassed that my mother was treating Hermione as though she were seven years old. "She is the smartest witch in our year, after all."
"Shut up, Pansy," Rasha griped at me. "Aunt Alexia is just trying to be a good hostess."
I turned, wrapped my arm around her head and grabbed her hair. "There it is again!" I growled. "How do you not annoy yourself as much as you annoy everyone else?"
My father cleared his throat and I looked over at him. He glanced at Hermione then back to me and I realized how very childish I was behaving in front of someone I was trying to win over.
"Sorry," I muttered, letting go of my young cousin and beginning to pile my plate with food.
As I reached for the orange juice, I saw Hermione just staring at her plate as though not knowing where to begin. It made me chuckle a bit, and she looked up at me, blushing slightly. "Just eat what you can," I advised. "Mum isn't used to eating with humans. She cut back on the portion, but not enough," I tried a smile at her and gestured to everyone else's plate. "We'll eat two plates like this. Our kind tends to eat a lot because we metabolize food quicker."
My dad cleared his throat and I realized that I was babbling, trying to fill the silence.
But Hermione gave a nervous laugh and nodded, beginning to eat from her plate. Obviously, someone had talked to her, and I had a feeling I knew who it had been.
What happened? I thought at him as I began to eat.
You have six months to win her, Pansy, he sighed in my mind. And you better damn well do a good job of it.
I smiled and continued eating. Surely six months would be enough time to get her to come around.
Of course, Hermione finished before the rest of us, but I quickly ate the rest of my food so that she wouldn't just be sitting there watching us eat.
"Pansy, dear," my mother said, patting her lips with a napkin. "Why don't you show Hermione the Lunapar? I'm sure she would find it fascinating." She widened her eyes at me and jerked her head in the direction of the woods behind the mansion where I'd been running only a half hour before.
"What's a Lunapar?" Hermione asked, eyes lighting at the chance to learn something new.
"It's where we meet on the full moon before the hunt," I explained. "And it's where all of our rituals and ceremonies are held. It's also where we keep the books of our history." I folded my napkin and set it on the table.
"Can I go?" Rasha opened her big mouth.
"No," I glared at her.
"Come on! I'm not allowed to go there on the full moon yet! Can't I go while it's not a full moon?" she looked at my father and gave him a lost puppy look.
"I don't see why she can't go with you," Dad shrugged, taking another helping of eggs. "But make sure you blindfold her."
"Why?" Hermione frowned, honestly curious.
"So that she can't find her way back there during a full moon," I grumped, getting up from the table and leading the way out of the dining room. "She's not even supposed to be anywhere near it until she's fifteen."
"You were going there by the time you were five!" Rasha complained as I grabbed one of my mother's scarves and tied it behind her head tightly.
"I am future Pack leader," I snapped, taking Rasha's cloak from the closet in the foyer along with two of my own cloaks. "You are a beta wolf."
"Still not fair."
"Life sucks, doesn't it?" I snarked, handing my cousin her cloak and turning to Hermione, offering her one of my cloaks.
"Thank you," she gave me a weak smile, obviously still shaken from the morning's events. As she wrapped it around her, a surprised expression crossed her face. "This has to have a warming charm on it."
"It does," I nodded, slipping into my own cloak and grabbing Rasha by the back of the neck, steering her toward the back door and Hermione followed beside me. "My cloaks all have the charm on it, seeing as they don't button up like a jacket does."
"Make sense," Hermione nodded. "Aren't you being a little rough with her?" she nodded at Rasha.
"She's a werewolf, Hermione," I sighed. "She plays rougher than this."
"Ah," she nodded again and was silent.
I wished Rasha had not been permitted to come. I'd wanted to talk to Hermione and apologize for the way I had behaved earlier. I wanted to make things right and start over and my cousin was making that difficult to do.
As we approached the woods, in a moment of boldness, I offered my hand to Hermione and was surprised when she took it. I felt a smile spread across my face, but didn't reveal it to her. The stupid grin would only embarrass me and possibly scare her, and that was the last thing I wanted to happen. I had scared her enough for one day.
Hermione's had fit perfectly in mine and it was as though I was in Heaven.
So with one hand blissfully wrapped around Hermione's and the other on the back of my little cousin's neck, I led the way through the trees; never giving a single thought as to where my feet were taking us. Years of attending the Lunapar and its rituals made finding my way there effortless.
A/N: Read and Review!!! Let me know what you think and I'll update asap
