[Author's Note]
I know, I know my dear readers you are so eager to know what happens but I promise you all in good time. There is a lot left to be seen! But do keep those guesses and questions coming as I love reading each every single review. Just a note in case you did not catch last chapter's announcement but I have a new tumblr (check bio for link).

One last thing, a lot of reviewers ask why Remus Lupin is referred to as Lupin. Quite simply my reasoning was that is how Rowling refers to him throughout the series. I did not think it would cause such a stir but I understand that the fandom may have a preferred stylization (I am certain most fics may call him just Remus). Personally, I felt Harry would still refer to him as Lupin just as he did in the books out of habit and respect for his mentor. Again, I didn't think this would be such a point of contention as I still call my good friend and former high school teacher by her last name even a decade later. At any rate, I appreciate the critiques nonetheless and always appreciate the dialogue!

Chapter 9

Present Day
Malfoy Manor

Draco Malfoy was quick to Apparate from the Artemis Home, crossing through the property's gates and disappearing into the afternoon in order to return his family's estate. He reappeared just outside the Malfoy Manor's main driveaway and rather than summon for a carriage he veered off towards the gardens in haste. He was not ready to speak with anyone and hoped the fresh air would calm his nerves. The gardens had been there for nearly a century and had served as a sanctuary for Draco for as long as he could remember. He remembered as a small child ducking out of his homeschool studies to hide in the sprawling hedge maze. It was comprised of rose bushes and sweet-swelling jasmine that even now put him at ease.

The adrenaline of the attack still scorched his veins and left him feeling on edge. His visits to the rehabilitation home were always unpleasant but this one had been made worse when he was accosted by ...Hermione Granger. He had not anticipated seeing her on his routine trip to Artemis home. His visits served a two-fold purpose: as acting chairman of his family's charity he personally saw to it that the home continued to run smoothly and more discreetly his appointments at the home afforded him therapy for dealing with his condition. While neither aspect of these visits were preferred, seeing his old nemesis had not been something he would have predicted.

He did not have the fondest memories of the former Gryffindor and their dislike for one another was certainly mutual and yet... The hindsight of adulthood had softened his contempt for the know-it-all witch. Clearly however it had not done the same for the other party.

His worldview had changed in significant ways over the years after the war; Draco had been pardoned by the Wizengamot for his participation in the war and had done his best to make more positive contributions in society. That was part of why the Artemis Foundation had been founded in the first place. The Malfoy name needed to be tied to something other than those bleak years of his past.

As the officials cited during his hearing, Draco had been but a child forced to commit crimes during the war.

Draco knew that was only partially true. He had done a great deal of terrible things under the torment and coercion of the Death Eater's deranged leader. That part was very much correct. But he hadn't been a child blind and naive of the consequences of his actions. More specifically, Draco knew he would be haunted by the decisions he had made in those years for the rest of his life.

Which was why Granger's attack had felt like cosmic retribution, like a vengeful spirit coming back to punish him for all he had gotten away with as a young unwilling Death Eater. He could still feel the pressure of her grip on his throat, the shine of her unnatural eyes glaring back at him.

Once the terror of the moment had passed Malfoy could think more clearly. He recalled the newspaper headlines from weeks ago that had spoken of Hermione Granger being found alive but in need of lengthy medical recovery. With no accompanying picture or explanation, it made sense now why her friends in high places had covered up Hermione's true conditions from the public.

No, he convinced himself. Hermione was not a ghost sent to exact revenge for his unpunished crimes but clearly a mentally unstable werewolf. Somehow the reality felt no less foreboding.

I suppose it would not do well to reveal the famed war heroine had become a feral werewolf, Draco thought to himself drily. He thought of his own secret and the damage it would do to his family's standing in the pureblood world if others knew what he too had become. Absently Draco itched his right arm where the faint silver scars of the bite still existed as a permanent reminder of his dual identity. Indeed adulthood had given him a certain measure of empathy that he would not have had in his younger years. Draco decided to keep knowledge of Hermione's condition to himself.

He continued to replay the attack over and over in his mind. Under her gaze Draco had felt paralyzed in a very literal sense. It had been as though his entire body had betrayed him. Not just under mere fear but like the weight of a powerful magic had commanded him not to defend himself. And the accompanying push against his thoughts had been unnerving.

Not a word but a sensation, a mental command: Submit.

Had that been Granger? He wondered but already was aware of the answer on an intuitive level. Draco possessed skills in occlumency but this was different. His mental shields had been superseded altogether by a unique and unfamiliar force. Try as he might to ignore his other self, the wolf that dwelled just beneath the surface, Draco knew at once that the mental powerplay had been real. The wolf within him had responded according to whatever magic existed among werewolves.

Draco admonished himself for not knowing that such a thing was possible among those of his kind. He did not like the feeling of powerlessness and amended he would demand Remus Lupin tell him everything in their next meeting.

Eventually when Draco had cooled off and his mood had settled he went inside the manor where his mother was waiting for him. Narcissa Malfoy was a tall slender woman who's blonde hair was kept perfectly coiffed in the traditional aristocratic updo of a pureblood witch. Only the lines of concern revealed that she was older than she looked.

"My dear are you alright? The house elves told me you had arrived but I saw you go to the gardens," Narcissa said softly as she gave her son a brief embrace.

"I am fine, mother. I just needed to clear my thoughts," he said.

"You look pale, are you ill? It's getting close to the full moon, have you taken your medicine?" She asked as she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. Draco recoiled slightly from her gesture, waving off her concern.

"I said I am fine, please mother." His words were short as he tried to reign in his agitation. Draco knew his mother meant well but he did not want the attention. He stepped towards the sprawling staircase leading up to his quarters. "Have the house elves hold any letters that come in from the post today. I am tired and do not want to be disturbed."

"You received two owls while you were away," Narcissa said, following at Draco's heels as he went to leave. "One was from the Greengrass family wishing for you to come visit soon-."

"I am not interested," he said flatly. Draco knew any visit to see the Greengrass family would mean he would also see Astoria Greengrass, the family's beloved youngest daughter and a woman Draco loved with all his heart

Which was all the more reason he could never be with her.

Thanks to his curse there was no future with him. Even if Astoria could accept Draco for what he was, he could not bare the the thought of putting her in harm each full moon. What sort of life would that be? She deserves so much more, Draco thought to himself in sad resignation

"Draco…" His mother said his name with such tender understanding that it made the young man stop. Neither spoke but the silence was deafening. Narcissa knew there was nothing she could say that would ease the sorrow her only child felt each and every day. She felt the weight of his pain just as though it was chained to her own heart.

"You said there was a second owl?" Draco asked, moving on from the topic.

"It was from a group called the Knights of Walpurgis, they wished to set up a meeting to discuss partnering with the Artemis Foundation."

"I have never heard of them," Draco said wearily but added, "However I will reply back later. Thank you, mother."

And at that he retreated up the stairs and into his wing of the home. Narcissa watched the figure of her son disappear, wishing there was more she could do for her child who seemed so lost in the world.

Five Years Ago
Bialowieza Forest

The following morning,neither Hermione nor Greyback had spoken about the previous night's conversation. Perhaps they both knew it did not matter which side they fought for if in the end they were both trapped in an endless sea of trees. At first Hermione had found her environment oppressive as though the foreign land was going to swallow her whole but each passing day it had begun to feel more like home. She welcomed the soothing sounds of wildlife even at night and as Greyback had predicted her heightened sense of smell had even become more desensitized to the natural world.

She still thought of Harry and Ron daily, trying to envision in her mind their faces not painted with the concern and fear of her disappearance but as they had been before the war started when life had felt easy.

Easier, she amended silently. As if life had ever been been easy for us, Hermione thought to herself. To the steady trudge of her forest march, Hermione would imagine what she would say to her closest friends when she was reunited again. The young woman thought of she would explain to them that the loathsome Fenrir Greyback had saved her. That he had proven himself an ally in her struggle for survival. How would she tell them of how she became a werewolf? That he had bitten her by her own choice?

The questions danced in her mind continuously even as she pictured Ron turning to Harry to say Hermione "had gone mental". Would they come to understand? Hermione mulled this over and over again.

"You care a great deal about what others think of you," Greyback remarked and Hermione was startled by his voice breaking the long silence.

She frowned, both because she did not like his assessment nor did she appreciate the fact that he had been eavesdropping on her thoughts again. But before she could chastise him for the latter, Greyback said plainly.

"Again, you project loudly. I would have to be comatose to ignore you and even then…"

Hermione sighed. "There has to be a way to turn this off," she said waving at the space between the two of them.

"And you are wrong about me," Hermione added defensively. "I don't care."

But that was not true. Indeed, Hermione cared a little too much. Greyback, ever perceptive, saw that. She might argue that she only cared what Harry and Ron would say but Hermione honestly wondered what the world at large would do when they found out. It was hard enough to face the stigma of being muggleborn. Hermione constantly felt the insecurity of having to prove herself worthy of her place in the magical world. Would it be even harder now that she was a werewolf?

Greyback stopped walking and turned fully to the young woman at his side. "You should know you are worth more than all of them," he said firmly. "And you shouldn't give a damn what the world says. Their opinion means little compared to how you view yourself."

Hermione met his golden eyes with mild surprise at his conviction. "Thank you."

Greyback smiled sincerely and it gave Hermione butterflies, forcing her to look away quickly in embarrassment. As they began walking again Greyback was about to say something further but paused, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

But before he could reply there was a sharp crack and suddenly Greyback pushed her hard, sending Hermione into the brush. In horror Hermione saw a large tree truck had swung down on them like a battering ram.

It was a trap.

The full weight of the weapon hit Greyback, knocking the large man to the ground with such a sickening force that Hermione held her breath in fear that he was dead.

"Greyback!" She shouted in panic, rushing over to the fallen werewolf. He did not stir and as she knelt by his side Hermione was afraid to touch him less she injure him further.. "Fenrir, please wake up."

Already now his bare chest was beginning to swell from the impact of the trunk in a grotesque pattern. She checked his pulse and was relieved he was still alive. Her eyes darted to see any signs of an assailant, daring them to make a move. It was a short few minutes later that she heard the trudge of movement in the brush.

"Show yourself!" She shouted.

Four centaurs revealed themselves. An unbidden snarl escaped her lips as her fight or flight instinct kicked in. Crouched beside Greyback's unconscious body she took the dagger he kept on his hip. The wolf was awaken.