(Jacob's POV)

Living in the middle of nowhere in Canada sucks. It's cold enough that it started to get to me, the lack of the sounds of human habitation had me waking up at the slightest out-of-place noise, and there's no one. I thought that last part was what I wanted, but after spending nights next to her I had gotten used to waking up to a warm body, in my tiny room, with her scent completely enveloping me.

The first night I was here I had killed a caribou, and, using a knife I had gotten from an abandoned campsite, carefully skinned it, turned back into a wolf to eat, then took the skin and carried it into a nearby cave to sleep on. But sleep didn't come that first night, nor did it come the second, and it only came the third because my body was too exhausted to keep going. I dreamed of her, of course, of her face looking at me in fear as her wand pointed at my chest, and then her disappearing into thin air.

I woke up after only a few hours of sleep, and started going over what I knew. I knew Hermione would be in England, she had friends there and she wouldn't leave her friends or family for much longer than she had been while with me. I knew where her parents lived, but I got the feeling that they wouldn't ask many questions if she disappeared saying she was going to Harry's or the Weasleys... though I hoped she wouldn't go back to Ron... and that her parents wouldn't be able to tell me where any of them lived because they didn't know themselves. They might be able to get a hold of her, but I doubt she would stay on the line once the conversation turned towards her relationship status. I'm not sure how they'd react to me showing up looking for her, as we hadn't told them about our relationship, and I would be willing to bet they wouldn't want me hanging around forever, and I was beyond sure I couldn't play dog in their yard for very long. But it was one possibility, so I labeled it Plan A and started thinking about another thing to do.

I could go to England, wander around a bit, and hope I got lucky when it came to someone who knew her. Magic people smelled differently, I realized that one day when I was lying next to Hermione and holding her in my arms. There was something powerful, like an unknown spice, to their scent, each a little different, but all distinguishable to my powerful nose. I could sniff around, hope to find someone from the magical community, explain the situation and hope they didn't hex me. Plan B.

Hermione had told me once how Harry had grown up with Muggles, a family called, if I remember correctly, the Dursleys living in Surrey. They sounded like a horrible couple with a son who was starting to have an open mind about things, and while Hermione mentioned Harry had talked to the son one since the end of the war it was more a confirmation that everyone had made it through alive and that they were now safe to go back out in the open. Still, she said she thought Harry might be open to a cordial relationship between his cousin and himself, so the cousin might know something about where I could find Harry, and if I could find Harry I might be able to find Hermione. Plan Z. Though it would be somewhat funny to intimidate them with my form if the parents got uppity about talking to someone who knows about the magical world and their connection to it. Maybe Plan Y.

And it was thinking about the Dursley's hate for magic that made me think of our hate for vampires, and it suddenly hit me. There was a group of people who knew how to contact Hermione. The Cullens knew. They would have given her their phone numbers, the new ones they had that came up as 'International Call' without a number when they called Billy, and she would have given them a way to contact her in case of emergency, or, if I know anything about Hermione, if they want a secure place to hide. I might not be able to call them, but I knew where they probably were. It would be too soon, too risky, to move with Bella as a fresh leech. They'd have to stay put for a while, and the Amazon rainforest would provide lots of large animals whose corpses would probably never be found by humans. If I went to Brazil I could lay down some scent trails. Seth said they were on some island, so if I stayed to the coast and as far from humans as I could hopefully one of them would come across it, and once they knew I was alone hopefully they'd find me. And perhaps make a phone call on my behalf. Just so Hermione knows. Then she could make a decision with all the facts.

Besides, the bloodsuckers owed me. Even if they couldn't help me find Hermione perhaps they'd give me a place to stay so I never had to see La Push and feel the memories of that place again. Maybe I could live as a human long enough phasing wasn't an option anymore, and start over somewhere where no one knew I could once change into a giant wolf and was pining over my lost witch.

I would have to run to Brazil, which meant a lot of time in form. If I learned anything by spending all this time in Canada it's that my mental connection with my pack is insanely strong, even more, it seemed, now that I am the Alpha. We can hear each other every time I phase, and it seems like they've got nothing better to do than to wait around for me to phase again and bombard me with new reasons for why I should go home. I'll admit the ones about Billy had me thinking twice about my decision to leave, but I just can't be in that house. I'm going to just have to tune them out.

I phased and ran out of the cave. I ran through the territory of a pack of wolves that decided very early in my time up here that they were going to leave me alone, seeing a few of them scatter into the bushes as I rushed through. I could tell Quil was in form, which was a relief because he seemed to understand me best, and pester me the least.

How are you doing, Jake? He asked.

I'm going to Brazil, I replied.

I was wondering if you were going to think of that route.

Well, it involves the Cullens, which is a group I usually try to avoid.

I know, but they do know how to contact Hermione, and she probably would eagerly take a call from them.

Don't remind me.

He was silent for a few minutes. She's going to come back, you know.

How am I supposed to know?

She didn't seem like the type to wait around, not knowing, forever.

Somehow I managed to grunt in my mind.

Listen, the girl spent months running around in the woods with barely enough food looking for something she didn't know the location of and despite her friend leaving her and cheating death more than she should she stayed with because she's too damn stubborn to give up on something in the middle. Your relationship was somewhere in the middle. She isn't going to be satisfied letting it end on that note. She's going to have to know, and I think she's going to be too afraid to call the Cullens.

Why would she be afraid? She's their friend.

Would you want to hear she was dead from the person who killed her?

No

Exactly. She wouldn't want to hear you were dead and find out which of her supposed friends managed to kill you, because as stubborn as she is about being friends with a bunch of leeches, she loves you more and doesn't want you dead. She'd be heartbroken to lose her friends because they killed you and she knows she can't get over it, but the worst part of it for her would be knowing you're dead.

Just do me a favor and let me run for a while.

Will do, he replied sympathetically.

I ran southeast. I was never really interested much in Canada, so I didn't really pay attention when the teacher was talking about it, but I know the layout of the United States well enough that once I cross into them I should be able to figure out the best way down to the Gulf of Mexico. It'll take longer to keep the coast on my left and run to Brazil that way, but it's the best I can do without stealing a map or GPS or anything.

I ran for hours with only Quil in my head, and I knew he wasn't really paying much attention to me. I was starting to pass signs telling me that I was getting to within a few dozen kilometers of Yellowknife when the worst case scenario finally played out. I felt someone else phasing, and knew almost instinctively that Sam was now around.

Could you leave us alone for a few minutes, Quil? He asked.

Sure thing. Later, Jake, Quil replied before phasing. I did my best to ignore Sam.

Listen, Jake, you need to come back, Sam said, sounding irritated. He had been a wolf the longest, so he knew how to protect his mind the best, and I had no glimpse into his motivation.
I'd rather not. You want Alpha again? You can have it.

Doesn't work like that. You can't just take it when it's convenient and give it back when you're done with it. You took it, you're Alpha.

Sucks to be me.

Just come home.

Nope. Got something to do.

I can't force you anymore, but I promise you you'll save a lot of time and aggravation if you just come home before you go running off to Brazil or England or wherever the hell you think you're going.

He phased before I could ask what, and I stopped dead. Anger swelled inside of me. I never wanted to go back, he knew that, so why the hell didn't he just tell me why he was being so insistent that I go home? Then again, Sam never said things lightly. I looked longingly southeast. There I knew I had the best shot at finding answers. But Sam thought it would help me to go back to La Push, so I turned southwest and started running. I crossed into the states just to the east of the Columbia river sometime in the middle of the night, followed that to Wenatchee, then turned west and kept running away from the rising sun. I could smell chicken soup stewing as I passed behind the diner in Forks, and within minutes I was entering La Push. Sam hadn't told me what I was doing back, so I decided the best place to go was his house, so I started through town, but when I was passing the woods I stopped dead at a shift in the wind. I inhaled deeply, thinking I might have cracked, convinced I couldn't possibly smell what I thought I had just smelled.

But it was there again, and my feet started moving me towards the familiar spot hidden in the woods, refusing to let myself get hopeful, but I stopped short as I saw it there. The tent. Her tent. There was a light inside, and I could see someone moving, and just by inhaling I knew it was her.

Hermione was back.

XXXXXXXXXXX

(Hermione's POV)

I thought that Sam would get Jacob back within hours, but as night fell I was starting to get nervous that he hadn't even bothered to contact Jacob at all. I started thinking of what I might do to find him. All I knew is that he was somewhere in northern Canada, occasionally living as a wolf. Perhaps if it was barren enough I could fly over some areas with the bike at night and hope his superior hearing figured it out, but that was risky. I decided to give Sam twenty-four hours, then go enlist the help of a small army of broomstick-wielding Weasleys to help me search.

Deciding that I had nothing better to do I sat down with a quill, some ink, and some parchment and started to write my book. I decided that I would need to do a background, starting from when I first came to Hogwarts, so people understand how we became friends and why I stuck with him for so long and through all the challenging times that came with being friends with the Infamous Harry Potter. I admitted my faults as I wrote, I was, as Severus called me, an insufferable know-it-all as a young girl. I wanted to prove that I was the best, and I did get annoyed when someone out-performed me. Perhaps that's why I had garnered so many comparisons to Severus. Neither of us liked to lose, to be proven wrong. We were both stubborn to a fault at times. And we were both known for somewhat of a short temper. Perhaps that's why he and I had developed such a volatile friendship. We understood each other on a different level, one that was off-putting to outsiders.

I wrote through the night, unable to sleep with my nervous energy. I had just gotten to Ron getting knocked out by McGonagall's giant chess set when I heard a rustling outside. Something large was out there, and I was sure it was one of the wolves, though I didn't dare hope it was the wolf I was looking for. Seconds later I heard something much smaller moving towards my tent, and I turned just in time to see Jacob peering into the flap.

"Jacob," I whispered, standing up and turning around.

He studied me as if he weren't sure that I was actually standing there. A range of emotions crossed over his face, from anger and hurt, morphing into forgiveness and relief.

"Hermione," he whispered, moving towards me, opening his arms. I rushed into them, pressing myself against his warm chest. I felt something wet drop into my hair as he wrapped his warm arms tightly around me, holding me as if he were afraid I'd be gone again if he left go. I felt something wet on my cheek and realized I was crying in relief as well.

"You didn't go through with it," I managed.

"It wasn't the right thing to do," he replied.

I processed that for a second. He agreed with me, but this wasn't about me. He had made his own decision. It just happened to be the same position that I was pushing. He wasn't agreeing with me to agree with me and keep me happy. I mattered to him, but he was his own man. It was as much a relief as seeing him.

"I thought I was going to lose it after you left," he whispered.

"I'm so sorry," I said, feeling awful. "I really am. I felt like I was stuck between the man I loved and my friends, and at that point I stopped taking into account everything in the past with your tribe and let it boil down to vampires against werewolves, and I just thought that if they weren't around and causing a problem you should have let it go. It wasn't my place to demand you make a different decision, and I should have realized that this was beyond what I knew and understood. I don't deserve you being so nice to me right now."

"Of course I'm going to forgive you. You came back," he murmured into my hair.

"I wanted to know what was going on, so I came to talk to Emily. I was surprised to see Sam there, and he told me what was going on. He said he'd try to get you to come back."

"I almost didn't listen to him," he admitted with a chuckle.

"What were you doing?" I asked, moving us so we were sitting on the threadbare couch, though he immediately pulled me onto his lap so I could rest my head on his shoulder while being completely enveloped in his arms.

"Going down to Brazil to see if I could find the Cullens. I thought they might be able to talk to you."

"I haven't talked to them. I was staying at Grimmauld Place. There's too much magic around it for cell phones to work, and there are obviously no land lines."

"Afraid I was going to show up?"

"I decided it was time for something different, and Harry and Ginny learned long ago to not try to stop me when I put my mind to something."

"What have you put your mind to?"

I moved so I could look him in the eyes. "I quit my job," I informed him.

"But you love your job," he said, looking confused.

"I thought I loved my job, but a friend made me realize that I really didn't. That my priorities were kind of out of line. So I started thinking, and it became clear that to do something that would make me happy I would have to cut some baggage, and that happened to be my job."

"Let me guess, you have something else in the works already."

"Two somethings," I admitted. "I decided to accept the half-million Galleon advance on an exclusive biography about my life and my time with Harry..."

"A half-million Galleons sounds like a nice chunk of change."

"Nice enough to invest in Snape Potions, which is currently looking for a premises, has contracts with four apothecaries, three hospitals, and two schools, and is shooting for an opening at the end of the school year, which is the earliest Severus can be free of the 'current crop of dunderheads'."

"You gave up all your money to do this?"

"No, I gave up all the book money to buy myself a job as his business manger, at a nice salary as well as a good return on investment if this goes the way I hope. As long as Severus doesn't muck things up too bad I should be able to make most of that money back in the first few years, as well as interest and my salary."

"If you expect that crabby old jerk to be personable enough to be the face of the company..."

"Hell, no," I laughed. "That's my job- to go out, throw my name around if I have to, and find new places to sell potions to. He's in charge of the brewing, or overseeing the brewing process if we grow enough to warrant hiring, and research and development of new potions."

"Good that you're the one people will be seeing, because every time I see him I get this urge to punch him in the face, whereas every time I see you..."

"You want to do something decidedly more pleasant than punching someone in the face?"

"Depends on the person. There are some people it would be very tempting to punch in the face," he smirked.

"Well, if you want to go find someone instead of doing that other thing..."

"Not a damn chance," he growled, and his hands were suddenly cradling my back as he spun me and laid me down on the couch. Before I could think of a witty retort his lips were on mine, hungry and insistent, and I was happy to give into his demands. I crossed my arms behind his neck, holding him to me, as one of his hands made its way to the front of my blouse to start clumsily undoing buttons. He lifted me up just enough to pull it off and unhook my bra, then set me back down as he pulled that off, one hand immediately starting to massage my breast. I couldn't help but let off a sound like a purr and arch my back to press into his touch. I could feel him smile against my lips at my insistence, and slowly, tantalizingly, he kissed down my neck and chest so his mouth could match his hand's motions.

The good thing about dating one of the wolves is their devil-may-care attitude towards walking outside fully dressed, especially if they're going to be in form, as Jacob was recently. He wasn't wearing a shirt, as per usual, and his shorts were hanging a bit loose- I'm willing to bet he hadn't been eating much the past week or so and while he maybe only lost a few pounds, it was enough that I could push the shorts down with little fumbling effort.

He stopped kissing to look me in the eye. "Impatient much?" he chuckled.

"When you go from a couple times a day to none it might make one a little impatient," I replied, lifting my hips and rubbing against him to show that at least part of him was not objecting to the thought of a quick coupling.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear, and whispered, "Are you sure this is what you want, Hermione?"

I grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him so I was looking into his eyes again. "Yes," I replied confidently. "Forever. I love you."

He smiled, his lop-sided smile that would make any woman melt. "Exactly what I needed to hear," he murmured, and before I could form another coherent thought he had pulled my pants from me and buried himself inside me.

XXXXXXX

(Jasper's POV)

I could live a million lifetimes and never figure out Hermione Granger. I had cracked before my family, who were respecting her wishes that we don't contact her. I know why she did it. She didn't want to know what side won our battle, because she was emotionally invested in both, and any casualties would cause her great emotional unrest. But there was no battle. Jacob Black might have made the final decision to order the pack to forgive us, but I would bet every cent my family has that Hermione had planted the idea in his brain. He had to come to the decision on his own, especially since it came at the price of his being forced to lead the pack, but my family will be forever in debt to Hermione for not standing aside when she heard his plan to join his pack in their hunt and slaughter.

I wanted to call Hermione that day, but Alice continually talked me out of it. She said that Hermione had wanted to be left alone, had said she didn't want to know the outcome because she feared it. I didn't buy it. I knew at one point she'd crack, have to know what happened. No one who has all but memorized the majority of their school library just because would be satisfied to sit back and never find out the fate of a group of people she cared about. At one point she would contact us, or the pack, or even both, and find out the truth.

I knew the moment she knew what happened she and Jacob would be back together. I have never felt an emotion quite like the pack's imprints. I've felt unconditional love, I feel it from my family, but as much as I love Alice and would move Heaven and Earth for her, I have been loathe to sever all connections to everyone else for her. At first she was wary of Peter and Charlotte because of their connections to my past, and she never fully trusts me anywhere near Maria, but my foot has been down on both points. I will not avoid my friends from my earlier years for her, though I don't see Maria I will not stay above the Mason-Dixon line just because I might run into her. But the imprints... I could see one of them giving in to every whim of their partner. Their family and friends are pushed to the back burner, if not taken off the stove completely. Long term romances have dissolved into animosity, the outside world and plans for later have disappeared, lives have been plans around children too young to be out of diapers all because some cosmic force telling them that they have found their soul mate. I would hate it. I would hate to feel like I had no choice, that I am at the mercy of another so completely that I would feel my life would be over if they left. I love Alice, even though she knows I'm going to say no to something in advance she doesn't press her advantages to convince me to change my mind. If she left I would be devastated, but I could eventually move on, though it might take a few decades. The imprint is awesome and terrifying, and I'm glad I don't have to be subjected to one, though it doesn't diminish my respect for what Jacob must have gone through when Hermione left.

I was sitting in a quiet sitting room, with everyone indulging in a book or, in Emmett's case an online MMORPG, as we awaited nightfall and another hunt for our amazingly controlled newborn.

"Why hasn't she called?" I asked, looking at Alice, though I knew she wouldn't have an answer. She can't see Hermione, probably some kind of defense mechanism witches and wizards have which is not unlike the wolves, so she wouldn't see Hermione making up her mind not to call, or to call then have a change of heart when her fingers touched the phone. I imagined her sitting at home, missing Jacob, wondering if he had found us yet, wondering who survived, but being too afraid to find out.

Alice replied with a sympathetic look.

"I'm going to call her," I announced.

I expected the room to erupt with arguments, but for once everyone was silent. Because the arguments had been said a dozen times before, and repeated for the purpose of convincing the person giving the argument and not the person arguing for the phone call. Deep down we all wanted Hermione to know.

Deciding it might be time to push my luck I grabbed my phone and, watching my family carefully and fully expecting one to grab the phone out of my hand, and no one was more surprised than me when I managed to dial all the digits and the phone started ringing.

"Hullo?" a foreign-sounding female voice answered.

"Hello, my name is Jasper, I'm looking for Hermione."

"Jasper Whitlock? The vam... er... her friend?"

I smiled. "The same, ma'am."

"Nice to sort-of meet you, Jasper. I'm Hermione's mum, and as cliché as it sounds she has told me so much about you."

"Hopefully positive," I smiled.

"Of course. Well, Mr. Whitlock, I regret to inform you that she's not here."

"Is there somewhere I could reach her?"

"Your best bet..." she paused, sounding unsure if she should tell me, "would be back in La Push."

"She went back?" I asked, surprised, and noticed that several of my family members had perked up at the news.

"Yes. We've had an exciting past few days with her, actually," she said, then proceeded to tell me about how Hermione had quit her job, taken a large bonus to write an autobiography, and used that bonus to start a small potion-related startup. And, of course, she returned to Washington to try to patch things up with Jacob. She hadn't heard from her daughter in two days, but assumed that it was good news as she trusted Hermione to be able to take care of herself. "The only thing she hasn't done is moved out," she finished with a chuckle. "Though I expect that to happen as soon as she finds a place to live. Probably in Washington, but you'd never know with Hermione."

"Well, thank you for your time, ma'am. I'll let her know to call you if I manage to get a hold of her," I smiled.

"You do that. It's been nice talking to you, Mr. Whitlock. Take care of yourself."

"You, too, ma'am," I replied before hanging up.

"Good," Esme said, nodding to herself. "It sounds like she's finally doing something that will make her happy."

"Yeah, a werewolf," Emmett said, earning him a well-placed pillow to the back of his head from Bella.

"We owe her a lot," Bella scowled at him.

"We should do something for her," Edward agreed.

"Like what? Offer her the use of this place when we're done with it so she can go on vacation with the wolf? Because I don't want it to stink in here," Emmett grumbled.

"I don't think Hermione wants a vacation, considering everything that happened with the last one," Rosalie said.

"How about we invest in her business?" Edward asked.

"Somehow I don't think that what's-his-name, Snape, maybe?, would be willing to go into business with us," I shook my head.

"We could throw a little reward her way," Alice suggested.

"She would never take money," Edward shook his head.

"I'm hard-pressed to think of anything Hermione would truly want," Carlisle sighed.

I thought about what her mother had said, and I could feel a grin crossing my face as I thought of an idea. "I know exactly what we could do for her," I announced.