Chapter Twelve: Secrets of the Second Moon

Bloody know-it-all! She always thought she was so dammed clever! Who was she but a naïve little girl? Who was that blasted witch to tell him of his own life? Severus knew who he was and what his life was doomed to forever be. What made Granger think she was smart enough to tell him how to live his pathetic existence? What a fool the daft girl was!

Snape growled as he resumed his pacing somewhere far off into the depths of the shadowy woods, away from the young witch and all her accusations. His ire had risen so high he'd had to stop himself from slapping Granger square in the face for her insolence. How dare she spout off such claims against him! Who the hell had made her the High and Mighty bloody Queen of England, able to shackle him with his own sins and throw him into the dungeons of condemnation?

She knew not the story of his life. She knew nothing of his struggles to find peace somewhere on this God-forsaken earth. She had no right to judge him-none whatsoever.

For Merlin's sake! And he was bound to the insufferable Gryffindor! His head snapped up to glare long and hard at the bright silver sphere in the star-speckled sky. Werewolves…He'd never liked them. And now, thanks to her, he was one. And thanks to fate, they were now connected in a way that made him nearly sick to his stomach. What a wretched turn of events.

What had been so wrong about the day he had been born that had cursed him to never find even the smallest bit of contentment? What had made James Potter so wonderfully lucky that he was able to win the heart of the girl of Snape's dreams and live a happily ever after-at least until he was killed by the Dark Lord? What great force of nature had bestowed that swine's son such a glorious prophecy? What had Snape himself done to be stripped of his chances at even the tiniest bit of happiness?

Tomorrow night, he would transform again, and so would she. No doubt the animals would bind them together again. Snape was having a hard time digesting the nature of their relationship as it was. And what was worse, the cur had penetrated his walls of human stability. He could no longer clearly distinguish right from wrong where Granger was concerned. His stubbornness and disgust was now the only thing keeping him from admitting the full truth, while most of him wanted to grab Granger, throw her down and claim her as his once and for all. His body ached, his mind was reeling, trying to stop the war raging in his head between his responsibilities and his instincts, and he was once again reminded of how much he loathed the woman his inner beast had mated with!

Severus spun and slammed his fist into a tree, stifling an angry roar. His knuckles bleeding, he unfurled his fist and placed his other hand upon the trunk, digging his fingers into the bark. He left deep gashes upon its surface as he drug his nails downward slowly. His body was shaking, his heart was pounding, and his chest heaved in desperation and rage. He let his head fall against the tree above his hands, his hair falling to obstruct his peripheral vision. A moment later, he closed his eyes, trying to take slow, even breaths.

He had to get a grip on his emotions, put an end to this oppressive anger and hatred. He knew that if he let himself get sucked into the deepest, darkest part of his soul, there would be no escaping it.

As much as he wanted to throw Hermione off a cliff and hope she hit her head numerous times on the way to the bottom, he forced himself to think of her terrible cries and screams of agony; how frightened she had been and probably still was about what she had become. He allowed the image of her bent and broken form, shaking with the force of her sobs to fly to the forefront of his mind.

He had a responsibility to her. As a teacher, it was his duty to see to it that she was taken care of, and at present, that meant finishing their quest to find the Wolfsbane, and looking after her to the best of his ability while doing so. All biases aside, that was why he was there in the first place, and it was imperative that he keep that in mind, no matter how frustrating and heated things got between the pair.

Dear Merlin…Why me…?

Severus tensed as a pulsating pain rippled through his body. A slow fire began to burn in his stomach, and he growled in response, squeezing his eyes shut to try to quell the growing discomfort. That proved to be a mistake.

Suddenly, images began to flash before his mind. The first was the wolf's memory of claiming his mate. He could hear the female's cries and howls ringing through his head like a song, though the melody was haunting and it made him feel even sicker.

He flung his head to one side, trying to dispel the image, his breathing heavier than before. Then, the familiar scene that had plagued him for the past month flashed before his eyes: Granger on her hands and knees beneath him as he finished what he had started as the black wolf.

"No!" he growled through gritted teeth, shaking his head vigorously. More images of intimacy came to him, images he didn't recall-his subconscious memories of the past few nights…

Snape flung himself back from the tree and held his head, trying to regain control of his thoughts. What the bloody hell was going on with him?

No sooner was the question raised in his mind did he receive his answer. The fire in his stomach began to spread lower, and Hermione's beautiful, flawless face flashed before his lidded eyes, her smile sweet, yet somehow seductive.

He took a step backward, bending his head nearly to his chest and wrapping his arms around his midsection. Merlin! No! This could not be happening to him!

The beast within Severus was fighting to take over, to go to Granger where she lay sleeping in the tent and to do what he'd been doing the past several evenings. Snape found himself in denial. How could he possibly have had intimate relations with Granger without even knowing it? Sometimes he hated magic!

Even as he tried to suppress the animal, he could feel the sexual arousal growing within him. Without provocation, he began to imagine the girl completely naked before him. He brought back the image of her pretty, yet alluring smile, and envisioned running his hands over her soft, pale skin…touching her, kissing her, holding her…dominating her. Making her his…

His vision became hazy when he tried to open his eyes, and he could feel what little control he had left slipping away. His feet began to move against his will, taking him toward her. Try as he may, he could not stop what he knew would happen next.

He couldn't speak, he couldn't shout in warning to the unsuspecting witch as he pushed aside the canvas flap and slipped into the warm enclosure. He growled as the last thing his human mind saw was her sleeping soundly in the bed, her naked body covered only by a thin, white sheet.

His eyes were now cloudy, the primal beast having won the struggle for control of Snape's body. He prowled to her bedside soundlessly, his fingers deftly undoing the line of buttons on his crisp, white shirt, slipping the garment from his shoulders and letting it flutter to the floor. Then his hands moved to his trousers and boxers, and he easily slid them off his hips, stepping out of them a moment later.

Without preamble, he climbed onto the bed above her, his lips wasting no time in finding the warm, pulsating flesh of her slender neck. Lost to sleep, she moaned quietly, causing him to give a purr-like growl in response. Her body knew what was happening even if she remained lost to the world of her dreams, and she rolled from her side to her back, her arms finding his naked form instantly.

Severus shifted his head slightly to nip at her ear and her jaw as her hands ran down over his sides to his hips. When he felt them slide back up his torso, his mouth claimed hers in a heated, needy kiss. She exhaled into him, and he began to grind his hips against hers in a desperate manner, the sheet still separating them. A hungry snarl escaped him when she dug her nails into his back, her hands sliding down until she was gripping his backside.

His own calloused palms caressed the creamy skin that covered her ribcage and he rubbed his pelvis even harder into her. He could not wait long. The wolf was hungry for power and release, and he needed it now.

Lifting up off of her momentarily, he threw the sheet aside, exposing the rest of her very beautiful form. He wasted no time once the barrier was gone. As his teeth latched onto her throat causing her head to tip back sharply, he drove his penis into her, pushing deep until he hit her center. Dogs had no concept of taking consideration for the comfort of their mount, so needless to say, there was no slow build up. The process was rough, the need to dominate driving him to thrust as fast and as hard as he could in order to obtain that feeling of satisfaction.

Hermione clung to Severus, her body bouncing beneath him as she cried out in immense pleasure and a little pain. Her dream was superb…That dark, sexy man was pleasing her once again, and she was more than enjoying the explosive ecstasy. She opened her eyes, searching for his face, but she was unable to find it. His mouth was over her throat still, biting down on those nerves that served to further sexual arousal. She wrapped her legs around his lean waist and bucked to meet his powerful hips, wanting that release so desperately. Biting her lip until she tasted blood, she knew it was coming quickly. The pressure inside her was building to that crescendo, and she ached to let it loose.

Snape raised his head after some time, lifting his upper body in order to put more force into his thrusts. His human half was pushing at the confines of his soul, trying to break free and imprison the beast back where it belonged. Being the strong-willed individual that he was, he managed to do just that, but unfortunately…he was met with another unpleasant scene.

As he opened his now clear eyes, his body continuing its conquest of its own accord, he was horrified at the position in which he found himself. His pupils dilated until the whites of his eyes were no longer visible, and he felt as if he had just been punched in the gut as he stared down at the writhing body of Hermione Granger while he pounded into her, unable to stop the action.

He had full control over his mind and body now-had stolen back his will from the wolf, but in the throws of ecstasy, he couldn't force himself to back off when the release was so close. He tried. He closed his eyes and tried to block out how wanton she looked, even in sleep. He tried to reason with himself that this had to stop before she awoke-before this could go any further. Yet he could not fight a man's simple need to complete the sacred act of intercourse. It felt too good, too right…

A guttural groan escaped him, despite his efforts to quell the immense pleasure, as he felt her walls squeezing tightly around him. She was nearly there, and so was he. A moment later, he sheathed himself completely, fully aware of the spilling of his seed.

Bloody Merlin! Kill me now…This feels too good to be wrong…And yet it is…

She was whimpering beneath him, not screaming. It was obvious that even in sleep, she was trying to control herself. She did not release her hold, however; her arms still remained around his waist, holding him firmly in place as she enjoyed the full length of the climax.

My God…What the hell have I done…? Snape asked himself, his head bent, defeated, waiting until the euphoria subsided entirely before pulling out of her as quickly as he could. He climbed off of her and off of the bed, then cast a cleansing spell over them both and hastened to pull on his trousers, picking up his shirt before he fled the tent.

He ran back to the shadows, back to the darkness that would hide his shame, and slumped against a tree, holding his head in his hands. He didn't bother to slip his shirt on again. He was too distressed and angry. No…No, he couldn't believe what had just taken place. And what was worse, he couldn't believe that he had enjoyed it so much!

Even now, disgusted, ashamed and angered at his own weakness, he felt too good. Devil take him, he'd never had such a wonderful experience with a woman. And she hadn't even been conscious! He felt like a miserable, dirty, disgusting swine, but at the same time, he felt like he was flying high-higher than the free spirit of the Phoenix.

God…strike me now. Send me to my fate in the eternal flames, because my sorry soul will never be able to be saved…

X-X-X

Hermione moaned, burying her face in her pillow with a contented smile. She was slowly rousing to greet the morning, but deep down, she wished for her wonderful dreams to continue. Oh what pure bliss her nighttime lover had bestowed upon her; what wonderful ecstasy and intimacy. She only wished it could last awhile longer…

But the new day beckoned, and she knew, as she opened her eyes, that she had no choice but to return to the real world and her long mission. With a sigh, she began to stretch with a yawn, immediately grimacing when she felt that familiar pain in her thighs and the slight burning between her legs.

Oh dear me, she thought, furrowing her brows in confusion. I guess I enjoyed my dreams a little too much…?

She sat up slowly, throwing off her sheets and examining her sore areas. Surely it couldn't be possible for her to wake feeling as if the intimacy of her dreams had been real. Magic, as far as she knew, didn't work like that, not that she had placed any sort of spells upon herself. So why was she aching that morning? It made absolutely no sense at all.

Shaking her head, Hermione reached for her wand and waved it above her tender spots, having committed the spell Snape had used the day before to get rid of her pain to memory. Gone was the discomfort of her muscles. Gone was the hot, burning sensation of her most intimate area. Gone were the feelings of having had a night of pleasurable experiences. She smiled to herself. Much better. Now she would not have to feel awkward later on while she and Snape continued on through the mountains, being unable to keep up with him due to her severe muscle pain.

Swinging from the bed, she gave a tiny shiver as she realized how cool the morning air was. The night before, she had been so hot and uncomfortable that she had decided to sleep in the nude to make it easier to rest. She figured it was safe enough to do so since Snape seemed to loathe the idea of going into the tent, committing himself to sleeping on the ground. Honestly, that man baffled her to no end. Why sleep on the ground when one had a perfectly good bed to lay down upon?

It took Hermione no time at all to dress herself and pull her combed hair into a messy ponytail, and within a matter of minutes, she was packing away the tent with the usual spell. Looking around the campsite, she found that Snape was not waiting for her like he always did. She called to him, but received no reply, so she took it upon herself to venture into the trees, hoping to locate him quickly. If she didn't, she'd simply go back to the camp and wait for him to return.

As it were, she did find him a good ways into the thick trees. He was standing with his back to her, dressed once again in his unmistakable black robes, his hair a bit disheveled, and his posture positively rigid. Hermione frowned at the sight of him. Something didn't seem right, and the fact that he hadn't turned round, telling her he hadn't registered her presence-which was odd-made her uneasy.

"Professor…?" she ventured cautiously. "I'm ready whenever you are." She was met with silence. He didn't speak, nor move. He gave no impression that he had heard a word she'd said. Hermione, unnerved, walked toward him carefully, wondering what could be wrong with the man. "Professor…?" she tried again, reaching out her hand, the tips of her fingers hardly touching his arm. "Professor Snape?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth did he whirl on her, smacking her hand away. "Don't touch me!" he bellowed at the same time, and she jumped, startled by his outburst as well as the dark, damming expression that had taken over his entire countenance.

After the initial shock had worn off, Hermione fixed him with a stony gaze. "What was that for?"

"For a lot of things, Miss Granger."

"That's very vague…" she accused, not pleased with his apparent attitude.

"You seem to be quite the know-it-all! Surely you can narrow it down!"

Her expression grew even stonier as she tried to keep her own temper in check. "Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the grass this morning," she muttered bitterly.

"Woke up?" he growled. "Woke up? I didn't wake up! I never bloody fell asleep!"

"Well whose fault is that?" she fired back. "I didn't tell you to stay awake all night! You don't need to take your anger out on me!"

Snape towered over her again, not daring to touch her in the slightest. Hermione had to fight back the panic that surged through her at the combination of his nearness and the deadly glare that consumed the entirety of his face.

"Let me make myself absolutely clear, Miss Granger…I. Don't. Like. You. Never have-never will. Therefore, I find it in both our best interests…if we do not speak from here on unless it is necessary. And don't ever…touch me…again."

"What?" she shouted incredulously. She stared at him, her mouth agape, dumbstruck. What in Merlin's name had brought about this drastic epiphany? "And just what did I do to make you hate me so much? Is this about last night? Because if it is, I rather find it quite childish that you'd hold a grudge over a few heated words! I thought you were a bigger man than that, Severus Snape!"

His glare grew even darker-if that were possible-his eyes narrowing in a threatening gesture. "I can assure you, witch, that I'm nowhere near a child. In fact, if you knew-or remembered, rather-the reason for my extreme dislike of you at this very moment, then you would see that it wasn't your bloody words. I don't give a damn what you think of me, Granger, but when you toy with my mind, I tend to get more than a little defensive…"

"Toy with your mind?" Hermione repeated, her own rage growing with each passing second. "Why, I've done nothing of the sort!"

"Yes! You have! You have made me virtually unable to rest or to think or to be certain that I am still sane! Because of you, I have no control over my own thoughts let alone my own actions! So I will say this one more time, and I hope it sinks into your incredibly thick skull! Stay. Away. From me…"

Hermione was fighting with herself now. She was shaking, and her hands were clenched into fists, the desire to punch him in his big, fat nose overwhelmingly tempting. But she knew she couldn't do that. She had to control herself, despite how much of a complete and total arse he was being. She couldn't believe this! What had she done wrong? What gave him the right to treat her this way?

Before she could calm herself enough to speak again, he'd turned abruptly and stormed off, leaving her standing in the midst of the trees, her feet nearly rooted to the spot. What nerve he possessed! Toyed with his mind? Since when had she done such a thing? How was anything that happened to him her fault, other than unwillingly biting him? And as for his sanity? Ha! The man was practically bloody nuts in her book! He made no sense! None whatsoever! His emotions flip-flopped so much she was beginning to think he clinically diagnosable as bipolar. To Hermione, it seemed he was just being downright mean and nasty. She hadn't provoked him more than a fraction. It wasn't like she had committed some terrible crime against him!

It was only after a great deal of time had passed in which she worked to steady her breathing and collect her patience that she set out after him. She knew he wouldn't abandon the mission. If he would have made up his mind to do so, he would have disapparated, leaving her in the mountains to either continue on, or return to Hogwarts. Besides, he needed the Wolfsbane just as much as she did. So, with a very pissed off grunt, Hermione stalked after him, knowing she had no choice but to follow and hope they found the last plant quickly.

The sun did not shine that day. The clouds were big, black and ominous, much like Snape's demeanor as well as the thick tension and animosity that radiated between the two as they resumed their search for the rare potion ingredient. Just as he had wished it, they did not speak throughout the course of the day. They wandered on in hateful silence, both refusing to say anything that would make the situation worse.

Hermione knew that was all even the most innocent of words would accomplish. In his severely aggravated state, Snape would not wish to hear her try to rectify the situation, nor would he listen to any arguments she made in her defense. So, she kept quiet, no matter how much she wanted to scream and rage at him.

If Granger was right about anything, it would be the fact that at that moment, Severus was most certainly not sane. He had been driven mad by his shame, his guilt, his anger, his desire for the girl, and he simply could not take it any longer. He couldn't erase the memory of the previous night. Even as he walked, the young witch far behind him, out of sight, he couldn't banish the image of her, naked, beautiful, and writhing beneath him, or the feel of her soft skin against his and the heat that had held him deep inside her.

It enraged him. It humiliated him. He felt like he had raped her! The act was unwilling on her part, even if she'd seemed to enjoy it. She hadn't been in her right mind. She'd been asleep, her dreams probably echoing reality. He only thanked Merlin that if that had indeed been the case, she hadn't recognized that it had been him above her, driving into her, pleasing her, bringing her to that ecstasy…

No! For God's sake, he couldn't keep thinking of it! It was driving him to near insanity! His conviction of Granger having toyed with his mind and making him unable to think clearly or rationally had not been a random, misguided accusation. If anything, it had been a vast understatement considering his recent instability. No matter what solutions he'd tried to come up with for correcting the situation, he always found himself at a loss.

The rain came around late afternoon. The large, dark clouds had finally given way to a downpour so heavy that it was impossible for the two to continue on. The sheets of rain were so dense they couldn't see, so they had no choice but to stop for the night. Hermione wondered if that was for the best, seeing as how it was the night of the full moon. Perhaps if they were given adequate time to prepare…

Then what? They'd be able to control themselves? Yes, because that worked so well the last time, she thought irritably as she sat in the tent, trying to focus on a book as the sky fell in buckets full of water. Leaning back in the rocker, her eyes watching the billions of droplets splatter on the roof of the canvas enclosure, she could not quell the mounting concern of what the night would herald. With Snape's newly proclaimed hatred of her, as well as his refusal to communicate, she couldn't be sure that everything was going to be okay…

Dozens of possibilities of things going wrong flashed through her mind, and she found her stomach beginning to churn with anxiety and fear. At least last time she had been in a dungeon cell, incapable of harming anyone in the school, let alone escaping altogether. Out here in the mountains, there was nothing to stop her from running away and finding someone or something to kill or turn. There was nothing to protect her from getting herself injured. There was nothing to keep her with Snape…

What if they lost each other? Even if they were on grave terms now, she knew that it was imperative that they stuck together. Then another concern struck her. What if he killed her? What if she killed him? What if, because of the rift between them, they fought as wolves? The consequences would surely be disastrous…

Oh, what a dreadful mess we're in!
she thought in despair.

X-X-X

A few hours later, long after the rain had stopped, Hermione found she was unable to sleep. There was no real point to trying, she reasoned. She would transform soon anyway. Sighing, and steeling her courage, she poked her head out from the tent to gaze out into the darkness. There was no sign of the potions master.

Hermione released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, then stepped out into the night with caution. At least Snape seemed to have vanished for the time being, which meant that she could try to relax somewhat before the inevitable happened.

Turning round awkwardly, she gazed at the tent. Surely the thing would not survive if they got a hold of it as wolves. So, with a sad expression, she pulled out her wand and packed it away, safe and sound in her purse.

There was nothing to do now but wait…

X-X-X

He couldn't take it. He couldn't stand feeling as if something were missing…It was-dare he even think it-too quiet. It was downright unnatural for her to be so completely silent, never once uttering a single word, let alone babbling, a thing she was famous for.

What, he wondered, was rolling around in her pretty little head? Was she pondering his words from that morning? It had been clear all day that she'd been just as foul tempered and angry as he, but it was so unlike her to not…speak up…about what angered her. Her quick tongue was always ready to spring into action to defend her "perfect" reputation.

He was unnerved by the silence. For once in his life, he couldn't stand the quiet. He had hoped that by not interacting with the little vixen, he could find a small sense of peace. However, the silence had seemed to scream at him louder than any words ever could. It had driven him mad.

After the rain had cleared off enough for him to find his way among the mountain forests, he had retreated back to the comfort of their solitude, hoping that the distance would ease his growing headache. Of course, his efforts had been in vain, as usual. Severus found himself wanting to simply go back to camp, the distance only making him more anxious. He cursed himself for needing to be near to her, and then cursed her for bringing about this change in him.

With a snarl, he'd whirled round and headed back toward where they had stopped, now determined to bring the girl's thoughts out of hiding.

When he returned, he stalled at the tree line, noting that she had packed away the tent. No doubt she was concerned for its well being once they took on their beastly forms. As his eyes drifted about the scene, he found her sitting at the base of a tree, gazing out over the mountains and the massive expanse of blackened sky.

He watched her for a long while, his eyes narrowed as he tried to guess what she was thinking. He could use Legilimancy. It would be easy, even from that distance. Yet he didn't feel right taking even more unnecessary liberties. Besides, knowing Granger, she'd willingly spout off every problem she had with him, probably adding in a few profanities to the mix.

Growling, he marched briskly toward her, determined to receive answers.

"Alright, I can see your wheels turning…Tell me, what is on your mind? I know you are just dying to let it all out."

She said nothing as he approached. She didn't even turn her head a fraction to acknowledge either his presence or his question. Standing a few feet behind her, his eyes narrowed and he glowered at the back of her head.

"Out with it! I know you've got loads to say to me. I'm all ears."

Still, no response. Obviously, his attempts at diplomacy were not appealing to her in the slightest. He bristled, his ire rising again rather quickly.

"Granger!" he barked, demanding her attention. He did not receive it. She remained stubbornly silent, facing away from him and refusing to give him the answers he sought.

He was fast tiring of her games. Stepping forward, he grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet, spinning her round to face him. "I asked you a question, you insolent girl!"

In the next instant, her hand collided with his face, causing him to reel back in surprise, his skin stinging from her slap. Slowly, he raised his head to meet her eyes with a menacing look upon his own features. She still had not said a word, and that made him twitch inwardly. This wasn't right…Not at all.

"Granger…" he said slowly, quietly, in an effort to keep his control and not backhand her. "I will say this one…last…time. You will tell me what's on your mind, even if I have to force it out of you."

He was met with more silence, her glare the only response she gave.

He reached into his robes as he spoke again. "Tell me now…" he said in a soft threat. "I will find out somehow, believe me…Why not make it easier on yourself on let all those nasty words…fly…? Just like you always do…"

Still nothing.

Enough was enough. He would get his answers, one way or another. Pulling out his wand, he aimed it right at her. Hermione had done the same.

"Legilimens!"

"Protego!"

Snape's eyes widened as the deflection charm rebounded his spell, sending it right back to him. He barely had time to register what was happening before she entered his mind…

She saw it-everything that he'd kept hidden from her. First it was the black wolf's memory of mounting the brown female on the night of the last full moon, then the memory of him driving into her once they'd reverted back to their original forms. All his inappropriate thoughts and images of her bombarded her mind. Then the memories of the past few nights filled her completely…

Suddenly, his memories mixed with her own, and Hermione's dreams came rushing back to her. Only this time, she could see the face of the man who pleasured her. His dark eyes and hair were so drastically in contrast with his pale face, his hard body was covered in sweat from his exertions, and he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

The pain came back to her legs as she watched the scene from both angles, bile rising in her throat at this new revelation. Of all the things she thought he may have kept hidden behind those mysterious eyes, she had not expected that…

Hermione gasped as she pulled out of his mind, her eyes large and full of shock, horror and fear. Snape stepped backwards, knowing full well what she had seen, and anticipating the consequences. He hadn't meant for her to know…ever…His face, though still angry, took on a defeated look.

"Y-you…" she stammered, evidently having a hard time grasping what she had just witnessed. "It was you…all along. You're the one…from my dreams…But they weren't dreams…You…You…" Her face slowly contorted as she spoke, her voice finally breaking on the last 'you.' She couldn't take it. She couldn't face reality and accept it. It was…it was too horrible! It was revolting! And this man before her…He was sick!

Unable to come up with words large enough to convey her rage, disgust and humiliation-the same emotions Severus had been dealing with for quite some time-she screamed in frustration and fury, beginning to throw numerous curses at the man she now began to view as a monster.

Snape, only partially taken aback by her attack, found his reflexes being severely tested as he tried to deflect all of her well-aimed spells. She was advancing on him at the same time, forcing him to step backward to maintain adequate distance between them.

He didn't dare take the offensive. He did not wish to harm her, even if he could manage to cast a counter curse in between defensive spells. Snape gritted his teeth as they circled each other for several minutes, the tension mounting, the suspense building, the anticipation of what was to come becoming more pressing by the second.

At last, one of her spells managed to hit, and Severus found himself being flung backwards, landing hard on the cold, wet ground. He rose up on one hand quickly, just in time to deflect another one of her curses, then found the opportunity to cast a few of his own.

Hermione gasped when her next spell was interrupted when she was lifted into the air. Her eyes widened again as her wand flew from her hand, and the Incarserous spell bound her legs together, her arms stretched outward at her sides. She growled, furious, her eyes nearly as dark as Snape's.

"Ah! Let me go, you foul, vile, miserable prick!"

Severus rose slowly to his feet, no longer fearing she would blast his head from his shoulders. His face was dark again as he walked toward her, his wand hand lowered. When he spoke, his voice was low and eerily calm.

"Do you honestly…think…that I intended for any of this to happen? Does your brilliant mind not realize that I find this situation just as disgusting and painful as you do? Or are you really so naïve that you think…I would willingly…seduce…a student…"

He was near her now, stepping around her in a slow circle. Hermione's eyes followed him, her face strained, but she still could not find any words suitable for a response.

"The reality of all of this, Miss Granger, is that you are the one responsible for these events. I had no control over what has unfolded between us. I did not wish it, I did not want it, and I do not…like it. In fact, this entire trip has been one hellish nightmare for me! Imagine my surprise upon finding that I had performed sexual relations with one of my students! Imagine the horror!"

Hermione was not sure why those words stung a little. Luckily, her common sense kept her far away from that dangerous train of thought.

"You didn't tell me!" she screeched. "You didn't inform me of any of this! You just sat back and let it happen! It's practically rape!" She wanted to vomit at the numerous images that were swirling around in her head. He was her teacher! He was twice her age! And he was…he was…HE WAS SNAPE! It was so wrong! So very, very wrong!

"Yes, well, what the bloody hell was I supposed to tell you, Granger? Guess what! You bit and turned me, and apparently I was overcome by puppy love and felt the need to mount you!"

"Argh!" Hermione screamed again, unable to comprehend this new reality. It couldn't be! It just simply couldn't be!

"You should have said something! Anything!" Her voice was loud and it shook, the threat of tears evident in her wailing.

Stepping around to Hermione's side from behind, Severus raised his wand, releasing her from her bindings.

She fell to the ground with a small yelp, landing in a heap at his feet where the tears finally overtook her. She could not believe it…She could not believe the pain she'd been feeling each morning-the pain she'd assumed was an after-effect of her dreams (a thought she now dismissed as stupid and wondered why she hadn't come to realize the truth sooner)-had been a result of her own professor having sex with her. She had trusted him! Whether he'd been willing or not, he had had a responsibility to bare her best interests in mind. Surely keeping something so drastic from her was not in her best interest!

He left her, then, uncomfortable with watching her cry her eyes out yet again. He walked slowly about the camp area, debating on how best to handle this situation. He hadn't intended for her to find out. He hadn't counted on his spell to backfire.

He stopped at one point, his eyes drawn to something laying in the grass. It was Granger's wand. He stooped to pick it up, then walked back to the sobbing girl and held it down to her. She raised her head slightly, then reached out a hand to take it, but he pulled it back.

"Don't…" Severus began coldly. "Try anything funny…again…Or I won't hesitate…to break it." He spat on that last bit, waiting until he was sure she would heed his warning. She didn't answer, only glowered up at him in loathing. He could see the resignation flicker in her eyes a few moments later, however, so he handed her wand back to her.

She took it, placing it back the pocket of her jeans and quickly averting her gaze. Don't try anything funny…with the wand…

Severus watched her carefully for a long time with growing suspicion. She wasn't moving. She wasn't looking at him. She seemed to be…debating-weighing a decision in her mind. At last, she decided to make her move. She jumped up and spun to face him, her fist aimed right for his face.

He grabbed her wrist, stopping her, then grabbed hold of her other one as she tried again to strike him. He placed both her wrists in one hand and yanked her to him until their faces were only a mere inch apart, his other hand locking around her throat. Her eyes were wide and angry, while his were dangerous, black slits, his face contorted into a snarl.

"I have had just about enough of you…" he growled. "I will put an end to your foolish games once and for all! Mark my words, Granger; you will rue the day you challenged me!"

His head shot up as the glowing moon moved to penetrate the canopy, leaving them standing in a shaft of silver light. Hermione's eyes had darted to the bright orb in the sky as well, and now the two remained transfixed on its pale, cratered surface. It rose further and further each second, and yet time seemed to freeze…

Something inside them snapped. Severus released his hold on Hermione, and the two shot back from one another and crouched down to the ground, feeling the familiar pain as the beasts of the night began to take over.

Hermione tried to stifle her screams, but her efforts were futile. Severus managed to pull it off for a little while, but he, too, couldn't help but cry out in agony. Their faces changed shape. Their arms and legs grew longer, lankier. Their hair covered their entire bodies. Their spines shifted and extended, forming long, furry tails.

When they opened their eyes again and raised their heads, they were no longer human. They were wolves.

Their dark eyes met across the clearing, and the female growled, having to take a moment to recognize the male that stood before her. Once she had, however, her growling ceased, and she lowered herself as she stalked tentatively toward her mate.

The male watched her, having recognized her for what she was instantly. He stood tall as she neared him, baring his teeth to remind her of her status as the lesser wolf and causing her to crouch lower to the ground. His lips fell back over his fangs when she lifted her nose to touch it to his before licking his muzzle respectfully with a soft whimper.

After establishing the alpha order once more, the female bent down on all fours, the black male following suit. They sniffed each other affectionately, their tails wagging slightly, glad to be together once more.

The male moved around the smaller wolf, his nose exploring and examining her scent. He ducked his head beneath her belly, placing his muzzle between her back legs and sensing her heat. As if to give testimony to his discovery, the female let out short yelps, seeming to dance in place.

The black wolf pulled his head away and walked around back of his mate, now placing his nose to her backside. In response, the female lowered her upper half, leaving her back end in the air and pulling her tail to the side. The male's tongue protruded from his mouth, licking the wetness he found there, and she whimpered again.

Knowing what had to be done, he pulled back, then mounted her in the next instant. The process was not long or elaborate. It was rather quick and served to renew the bonds that linked the two as mates. When it was over, the male walked around front of her, and she ducked her head beneath his in an appreciative gesture, their tails wagging again.

The wolves, seeing no need to be destructive now that they had formed a sort of purpose, ran into the dark forest together. Though they couldn't put a name to the instinctual feelings inside them, they were happy and complete. And when they reached the mountain top, they raised themselves up on their hind legs and howled, united.

A/N: WOO! Yay! Longer chapter! And no, this is not the end, so DON'T ASK! XD Bet you guys really enjoyed this one, didn't you? Lemons, angst, emotional breakdowns: GOTTA LOVE IT!

And yes, I did use that element from the Occlemancy scene from Order of the Phoenix to reveal the rest of the truth to Hermione. Couldn't think of a better way to do it. O.o Oh well! X3 I sure liked writing this one! I'm so happy with it! WOO! YAY! WOLVES! Oh, and yes, I'm aware that in JK Rowling's universe, werewolves don't have tails. But I love doggy tails, especially wolfy tails. Soooo…DEAL WITH IT! Please REVIEW! Tell me what you thought of it!