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.

Hermione Granger stood over her cauldron with her nose scrunched up in disgust and her brows tensed in concentration, as she concocted a rather odious-looking potion. Huffing in triumph over the complex procedure of brewing the Wolfsbane potion, she threw herself onto Ron's bed for some well-earned rest.

"The things I do for this daft boy," yawned Hermione.

As she became drunk with the drowsiness of sleep, just seconds from dreamland, Hermione heard a frantic tapping at the window nearest her. Hermione dragged herself to her feet and spotted Pigwidgeon, Ron's energetic owl, carrying a small slip of parchment as he repeatedly attempted to pierce the glass of the window with his beak. She hurried to the sill and pulled the window open; streams of dust puffed from its sides. The owl fluttered through the room and dropped the parchment at her feet.

Roonil is under attack from a Centaur assault in the Forbidden Forest!

Send armies!

Ignoring the obvious questions that flew through her mind, Hermione bottled a dose of the steaming potion in a small crystal vial and set off down the wobbly stairs.

*crack*

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny appeared out of thin air on the main dirt road of the village of Hogsmeade. Looming over them was the turquoise gradient of the twilit sky casting a dim blue light over the village. The trio quickly made a break for the Forbidden Forest on a route that passed through the Hogwarts grounds. They passed by Hagrid's hut on the edge of the forest and noticed it was dark and silent.

Their skin prickling with bumps from the cold night air, the three teenagers hastily sped through the forest and made its dark depths echo with shouts of Ron's name. They followed a path that had been obscured by a cloud of dark fog during their previous visit, alert to the slightest sign of the red-headed boy. Before long, a familiar voice rang through the forest to them.

"Harry!"

Skidding to a stop, their eyes traced to the origin of the voice and were approached cautiously by a tall, gangly teenager.

"Ron!" shrieked Hermione and Ginny in ear-splitting unison.

"Quiet!" barked Ron. He glanced around at the surrounding trees. "They're after me—they got me while I was sleeping—I've lost my Deluminator."

"How did you escape?" asked Harry breathlessly.

"Spiders."

"What?"

"I'll tell you later!" squeaked Ron, visibly frightened, glimpsing through the thicket of trees a rising orb betwixt the stars. "That's the moon!"

Throughout the Horcrux hunt, Hermione proved herself able to think under pressure, and, demonstrating this ability, she wasted no time withdrawing the vial of Wolfsbane from her pocket and shoving it into Ron's hands.

"Drink it!" commanded Hermione.

Ron quickly disposed of the stopper and downed the potion in one gulp, and his face contorted with disgust as he spat at the ground.

"That's disgusting!" groaned Ron.

"Wolfsbane is meant to be quite foul," said Hermione in a very Hermione-like tone. "So that's good."

Ron's expression went blank, almost like the victim of a memory charm, as he stared at the moon above.

"Ron?" cried Ginny. "Ron!"

The look on Ron's face told Ginny she'd be better off talking to a wall. Oblivious to the presence of his friends, his head tilted unnaturally, his jaw hung ajar with darkened teeth, his eyelids half shut in a soulless stare, and his pupils enlarged to the size of pennies. Harry latched his hands onto Ron's shoulders, attempting to calm his best friend who shook uncontrollably.

"Ron!" shouted Harry, to no avail. He instinctively looked to Hermione with a pleading expression.

Harry turned back to Ron to see a grin forming on the corners of his open mouth, his head tilted back slightly. Accompanied by the empty stare of his saucer-sized eyes, it completed an expression of extreme euphoria. Ron looked the happiest he ever had, in fact, as if he had just woken up to find Hermione serving him breakfast in bed completely nude while informing him that the Chudley Cannons had just taken the Quidditch League championship by a landslide victory.

Harry drove his palm into Ron's chest. "This heart is where you live, Ron!"

"That didn't work last time, Harry!" warned Hermione.

Ron's back lurched into a hump, his limbs violently jerked and grew, extra joints formed at his shins and he quickly shot up to a greater height. Graying brown hairs sprouted all over his body, covering his pale skin, and his face morphed gruesomely to form that of a wolf. He lowered his snout, whimpering dog cries of pain while adjusting to the transformation.

"Ron?" asked Hermione weakly. "Ron, are you in control?"

Ron, now in the form of a large, thin, humanoid wolf, glanced up at her quietly. Hermione began to approach with her hands raised submissively.

"Ron, it's just me," said Hermione soothingly. "It's Hermione."

The wolf appeared to be considering her, but she soon froze on the spot when he looked to the ground. A low growl quaked from the wolf, and its head snapped upward to glare at Hermione, with its jaw hanging open, revealing canine teeth as long and sharp as nails.

"Careful!" breathed Ginny, earning her a bark from the wolf, at whom she scowled brazenly in return.

Hermione's next course of action, however, left her two friends staring, bewildered. Hermione lowered her hands calmly and closed the gap between herself and the growling beast. She gently planted a hand at its stomach, which Harry then noticed was the actual source of the grumbling.

"He's just hungry—oh, Ron!" chuckled Hermione as Ron lapped at her cheek with enthusiasm; he tilted his head and kicked his leg when she reached up and scratched behind his ear.

Harry and Ginny approached, huffing sighs of relief. Ginny threw her arms around Ron and squeezed, while Harry patted him on the shoulder, careful to avoid the splinching scar on his arm.

"See," said Harry. "You didn't need the Wolfsbane after all, you just needed me here to remind you who you truly are."

Amidst the snorts and gruffaws, Ginny eyed Ron and Hermione suspiciously.

"If you two ever..." began Ginny sheepishly. "Nevermind."

"If we ever what?" asked Hermione.

Harry sniggered loudly, but his grin vanished when he noticed a sudden movement in the brush nearby. He turned to find a dark figure appearing in the teal gloom between two trees. It was nearly as tall as Ron's current form and three times as bulky. Ron shifted in front of Hermione protectively, baring large wax-colored teeth and growling at the massive figure.

Harry inspected the figure as it approached: It marched on four thick, muscular legs that ended in hooved feet. Even with the lower body of a horse, it appeared top-heavy, with the body of a very stocky man. Its eyes bulged out of its head, red with anger, fixing the teenagers and wolf with a murderous look.

"YOU!" bellowed Deralon venomously while pointing a Beater's Bat-sized finger at the teenagers. "You've been aiding and abetting this animal's rampage!"

"His rampage?" retaliated Ginny vociferously. "What about your rampage!"

"I don't reckon that's smart, Ginny," warned Harry as Deralon walked towards them, the difference in size between them becoming more apparent with each step.

"You're heartless!" continued Ginny. "How could you do that to one of your own?"

Deralon's eyelids twitched dangerously and he made to draw his bow from over his shoulder, but before he could, Ron had pounced. With great agility, Ron sped through the patches of bushes and roots and reached Deralon before he could draw his weapon and clamped his jagged teeth down over Deralon's shoulder.

A low-pitched, phlegmy groan erupted from Deralon's chest as he scuffled with the Wolf-Man. Ron had dug his canine teeth into Deralon's muscle and was jerking his neck violently to rip flesh from bone. Deralon aimed a powerful punch at Ron's exposed ribs—a high yelp sounded through the forest—and the wolf was launched several feet through the air, crashing into a dead tree trunk that exploded in a cloud of dust.

Harry took action quickly, drawing his wand, but they were greeted by a crowd of approaching Centaurs. Harry retreated back to Ron's direction to find Ron fleeing quickly, with Deralon on his tail.

"Oi, Deralon, you mule!" barked Harry, and immediately, every Centaur set their eyes on him, including Deralon. After a second, they all charged, but Deralon spoke up.

"No, he's mine! Go after the wolf!"

Harry raised his wand quickly. "Accio Firebolt!"

Harry's hand shot into the air to catch the broomstick that was zooming to him and mounted it expertly. He rocketed off into the forest with the monstrous Centaur in close pursuit.

Meanwhile, deeper into the Forest, the lanky wolf bounded through vines, trees and brush to escape the clopping sound of the trailing Centaurs. Logically, he knew he wasn't fast enough to escape them, just as he knew a dog couldn't outrun a horse. Ron began to notice transparent white webs in the trees around him that formed various snowflake-looking patterns, and discovered a tunnel in the ground much like the one that connected the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack.

He figured the Centaurs would have a job chasing him through the cramped space as his thin frame would have considerably less trouble, and he was right. He noticed the Centaurs struggling behind him as he crawled through the dirt and into the pitch-black tunnel with nothing to guide him but a faint speck of light on the other side.

As he exited the tunnel, he noticed something very familiar about the cavern he'd entered. 'I've been here before, but when?' he pondered. His memory returned to him quickly once he heard a quiet clicking and saw thousands of legs scurrying at him from behind every crevice and rock of the cave. Approaching him were Acromantulas, the children of Aragog, the legendary arachnid Ron had met in this cave 6 years ago.

He let out a pathetic yip as he retreated on shivering paws, but when he turned to the tunnel from whence he came, he saw that a few Centaurs had already made it to the cave. Ron didn't see, but heard an arrow being shot; he ducked and yelped as it ripped a shallow cut into his neck. The small sting in his neck, he was fine with, but being trapped between murderous Centaurs and giant spiders was a bit of a problem.