Chapter 26 - A Bitter Tale

The sound of the door opening brought Hermione out of her wiped stray tears from her face as footsteps approached. She did not want anyone to see her crying; not over this. It was silly.

Hermione had spent most of her afternoon with Catia. The twins were a few days old and the young woman was glad to help out the Beta couple. Aster and Solis were the names bequeathed to the small children. They were not yet old enough to have more than an inkling at their personalities, but it was enough to make Hermione smile at the names their parents had chosen. Both were fiery enough to meet their namesake, Aster even more so than her brother. Solis did not mind the occasional distraction, but once Aster decided she wanted something, she was inconsolable until she had acquired it. Between the two, the young parents had not gotten much rest.

Hermione had seen a familiar book on Catia's shelf as she left and asked if she could borrow it. Catia looked mildly surprised, but then nodded in understanding. Hermione carefully picked the book off the shelf and took it to her own room, barely managing to keep herself together.

Which led her to where she was, crying over a simple children's book of muggle fairy-tales; the same book that her mother had read to her before all of this; before she had sent her parents away. It was silly to cry over something so simple, but it still hurt. She glanced up only to confirm that it was indeed Fenrir who had entered. No one else would dare come in unannounced. She immediately looked down again, knowing that she had been caught. She braced herself, expecting to be teased, or even laughed at by the werewolf, he would never understand her.

One moment, Hermione was sitting alone on the bed waiting for harsh words, and the next she was being engulfed in the werewolf's arms. He pulled her into a firm hug, gently bringing her against his chest. Fresh tears poured down her cheeks at his tenderness; he did not say anything, but merely held her as she cried. There did not seem to be an end to the surprises he had for her. She wondered if she would ever figure him out; there seemed to be something new at every turn.

After her sobs quieted, Fenrir spoke softly.

"I did not realize Cinderella was such a sad story, love."

Hermione sniffed and let out a strangled laugh. She had not wanted to tell him what had upset her, but he was being so gentle that her mind was slowly changing.

"I— My parents are muggles."

Fenrir cocked his head slightly at her answer; he did not understand why that upset her, or what it had to do with the book in her lap. There was something not quite right between his mate and her parents, and he wondered if she was going to tell him about it or not. He was fairly certain they weren't dead, but something was off. He did not think she was upset about the fact that they were muggles, but it was a possibility. He thought he had made it clear that it did not matter who her parents were of what her blood was, but she had been terrified of him when he had said it.

"I know. I meant what I said before. Blood doesn't matter." He flashed his fangs at her, hoping to cheer her up with a wide grin, "Only the moon, love."

He frowned when she did not even glance up at him. He could smell her anxiety, right down to the salt that coated her tears. He quieted his tone once again, recalling his own parents, "You cannot change who your parents are."

Fenrir grimaced when that simple statement only seemed to upset her more.

"I did, Fenrir— I changed them."

He stared at her, not fathoming what she meant by that.

Her voice choked when she spoke again. "My— My parent's don't know I exist. I sent them away...I— I had to protect them. They don't remember me at all…"

Fenrir felt a pang of sorrow in his chest for her. He drew her closer, wrapping his arms around her more firmly. "You did what you had to." He gently lifted her chin until she met his eyes. "When this is over, we'll find them. I promise."

Her brown eyes were filled with unshed tears as she spoke. "Will it ever be over Fenrir? Will it ever be safe for my parents?"

Fenrir took a deep breath. "I told you before that I would not lie to you." He refused to turn his gaze from her as he spoke, "I don't know. Will any of us ever be safe?"

She stared at him, a frown forming on her face.

"No matter who wins, there is no guarantee of safety. No one likes werewolves, Hermione. You know this."

"Lupin." she said quietly.

Fenrir laughed softly. She would never let that go. "Lupin has always been the exception. Do you think he will be so welcomed when it is revealed he is no different than the rest of us?"

"What do you mean? Lupin has always had such good control."

"You are right. He has an excellent facade, but it is killing him. I know you see it. I will not stand by and let him destroy himself. He cannot hide what he is from me." Fenrir clenched his teeth, he was not fond of the other werewolf, but he was not going to abandon him.

His mate eyed him suspiciously, "I did not realize you cared for him so much."

Fenrir smiled, not surprised at her disbelief. "I care for my whole pack, love. Whether he likes it or not, Lupin is part of it. He is my responsibility; as much as he runs from me, he cannot stay away forever. I have never had a good hold of him, but I think that will soon change."

"But he doesn't want to be here, Fenrir."

"He doesn't want to be a werewolf, mate. There's nothing either of us can do about that. Insisting he lives like a human only causes harm, to him and to others. Especially the young woman he married, but refuses to mate. She will suffer without him as you do without me. He could solve it simply, but refuses to be what he is."

Hermione shook her head. What he was saying and what she experienced matched, but she couldn't believe Remus would allow Tonks to suffer the same nightmares that she had. She sighed, Fenrir was right; Remus would never give in on his own. He would never turn Tonks into a werewolf; even if it would save her from the nightmares. Fenrir said it would make them go away, but could she really believe him?

"Lupin hates werewolves, and so he hates himself. Not unlike my father."

Hermione stared at him. Fenrir had never mentioned his father before. She sat quietly, hoping he would continue. She was not disappointed.

"My father hated werewolves. Oh, he loved the power that came with it, but he hated the limitations. There are many things I could tell you about the man who sired me, but the most important is that he was used to getting what he wanted. Not entirely unlike myself, I suppose; but he was cruel."

Hermione's eyes widened and she took a deep breath. Fenrir calling another being cruel was almost laughable; except that the somber look on his face told her he meant every word.

"My mother was married to him, but they were not mates. He wanted her, and so he got her. Werewolves have not changed much in societal status since then. She had no mate, but it would not matter if she had. My father was too prominent in wizarding society for anyone who was willing to challenge him to come anywhere near succeeding."

Hermione watched Fenrir's face as he told her about his parents. His voice was strained and his jaw was tight. No matter how long ago it happened, it still affected him.

"He was furious when he found out my mother was a werewolf, but after a time he realized he could use it to his advantage. It was a long time before anyone else discovered it. No one dared accuse him of being anything other than human. I don't think it took him long to discover another use for lycanthropy. Why recruit an army when you can make your own?"

The young woman swallowed, her stomach churned at the thought.

"You can guess how that turned out." Fenrir flashed his fangs at her in a mirthless grin. "He wanted a soldier, and he got me." He opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. He glanced at it before replying with a quick, "Enter."

"Alpha—" Elise walked into the room, looking more timid than he had seen in years.

Fenrir stood, keeping a firm hand on Hermione's shoulder. Something was off. Elise never asked him for anything, and by her posture, this was not a simple request. "What's wrong, Elise?"

"I—" she shuffled her feet as she moved closer. "The human— Jules."

Fenrir immediately moved over to the small werewolf and made her look him in the eyes. Her eyes were tearing up and her scent was mildly fearful. "Elise," he said sharply, "Did he hurt you?" He would kill the man if he touched a hair on her head.

He watched her eyes widened as she shook her head vehemently. "No. He's been very sweet. I— um— Can I keep him?" The last part of her speech came out so quickly that Fenrir had to take a moment to decipher exactly what she had asked.

Fenrir took a step back and stared at the normally vivacious woman who was now on the verge of tears. He frowned slightly, confused. "I don't—" He cut off at her fallen face, suddenly realizing what she was asking for. "Elise," he said calmly, his frown disappearing, "you don't need my permission to take your mate."

The young woman took a deep breath before replying, "But you don't like him."

Fenrir smiled at her; it was true that he was not particularly fond of the man's involvement in Hermione running into Bellatrix, but that was not entirely his fault. He knew the young man would be fine once he adjusted. "I don't like that he knows about us, but has no obligation to follow our rules. I'm sure you'll set him straight, right?"

Elise nodded, her face brightening.

"And, regardless of what I think, if he is your mate, I cannot turn him away. You deserve happiness, pup." He grinned at her, repeating the words he had spoken to her years before, "I told you it would get better one day."

Fenrir grunted in surprise when the young woman flung her arms around him.

"Thank you, Alpha."

Fenrir smiled fondly at her, scratching the top of her head briefly. She pulled away quickly, obviously embarrassed.

"You haven't done that in years, pup." He grinned. The grin not falling from his face, he took on a more serious tone. "Bite him as soon as possible. I have reason to expect some company this Moonstime."

Elise nodded, wiping happy tears from her cheeks. Fenrir watched her leave, the bounce returning to her step.

"Elise." He called quietly before she closed the door, "He will be upset, angry even, but it is only temporary. It will turn out well in the end."

Elise nodded and darted off, closing the door behind her.

Fenrir turned back toward Hermione and frowned slightly. He thought he had imagined it, but she had a frown on her face. Perhaps she was still very unsure about werewolves in general. He began to step toward her as he spoke. "Some families are more likely to be wolves than others. They probably have a werewolf in their…" He trailed off when he caught Hermione's scent. Something he had never smelled on her before; something he had not expected for a long time. He grinned as he inhaled once more, her normal scent was laced with just a twinge of jealousy.

"That's interesting." he said quietly.

"What?" his mate asked, her curiosity getting the better of her, as it often did. Her voice was tighter than normal.

"I never expected you to get riled up over such a simple thing."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she protested.

"Admit it, mate, you're jealous."

She glared up at him. "Over you? Don't be ridiculous."

Fenrir chuckled, leaning down to bury his nose in her hair. "I don't believe you."

Hermione continued to frown at him, but her scent was becoming less angry and more...enticing.

Fenrir pushed her lightly, making her scoot back on the bed to make room for him to sit in front of her. He met her large brown eyes as he settled himself. He could hear her heart begin to pound as his hand made it's way up to her neck. He pulled her toward him gently. "Tell me the truth, Hermione."

Her voice was breathy when she finally spoke, "No."

The werewolf chuckled, thoroughly amused at the whole situation. "We'll work on that later, then. Why don't you show me instead?"

Without giving her a chance to think about what he had said, he carefully pressed his lips to hers.

Hermione completely lost whatever she had been thinking about when the werewolf moved in to kiss her. All she could think about was the feeling of his lips on hers, and the new butterflies in her stomach. After initial surprise wore off, Hermione leaned into his gentle pressure. She heard him inhale sharply at her movements, his own becoming more heated with her encouragement. She felt one of his hands in her hair, the other traveled down her arm and snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her mind was fogged with the new sensation his touch brought. Her heart tingled pleasantly and when he began to pull away, she followed him.

Fenrir grinned and gave her several short, sweet kisses before pulling her into a hug.

Hermione leaned against him, no longer afraid of him. She was quite content. She was happy.

"As much as I enjoy knowing you feel the way you do, you don't have to worry about anyone else. You are my mate, and wolves don't stray."

Hermione snuggled against the werewolf's chest, "I know it was silly, but— I couldn't help it. I don't know what came over me."

She felt the werewolf's lips on her forehead before he answered, "Instincts," with an unmistakable grin in his voice.

"Of course." Hermione replied with a resigned sigh. Her mind wandered back to the other woman. "What happened to her?"

"Elise?" Fenrir replied quietly, "I found her when she was fifteen. She was— broken. I did not ask her what happened, but I did not need to. I recognized the look on her face. I had seen it enough on my mother that I saw it immediately. I killed the wolf who dared to hurt her; I could at least save her…" He trailed off, his voice suddenly distant.

"Fenrir," Hermione began gently, drawing back to meet his eyes, "what happened to your mother?"

The werewolf pulled her back into his arms. He held her tightly; and when he spoke, his voice was strained. "My mother loved me, my father did not. She did everything she could to protect me from him, and she did it quietly. I never knew, or perhaps I never understood what was going on until I was much older. I did not understand why my father hated me; I always smelled it on him. I wanted him to care for me, and was constantly trying to seek his approval, just to get some form of attention from him. It was useless, of course, I only represented his failure."

Hermione shivered at his voice. There was so much pent-up emotion in his tone, and it was all coming out as a harsh growl.

"He never saw me as anything but a monster. I was not human, and it was not hard to tell. I would never be the perfect son he wanted. I could not be controlled, and he hated me because of it." He took a ragged breath before continuing, "I forgot how old I was, I was nearly an adult when I realized he had been hurting my mother. I threatened him and took my mother away. To England, in fact."

Hermione tensed, she knew that was not the end of the story. She could hear the agitation in his voice and his limbs were tense around her. She silently wondered if he had ever told this to anyone before.

"I should have killed him then, when he was not expecting it. He found us. He had never truly cared for my mother, but she belonged to him, and he would not stand being slighted by his son, no matter how hated. I—" Fenrir's voice became strangled as he spoke, "I was gone. I came back to find him standing over my mother's corpse. He had killed her— she never had a chance. I tried to kill him, but he was still much stronger than I was. It took me years to track him down and destroy him. I did it, but it was too late; I was too late…"

Hermione shuddered, her tears falling freely from her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Fenrir. I know my parents are alive, and they love each other. I have no right to complain—"

"Hush, mate. It happened a long time ago. There was nothing to be done. Your parents are still alive, and you miss them. That is nothing to be ashamed of."

"That's no excuse. You should have never had to go through that."

Fenrir responded with a dark chuckle, "I have considered that."

"I understand why you are so careful with the pack. I'm surprised you were so calm about Jules."

"He's a good sort, he'll warm up to this eventually. His sister is here and will help him adjust; that will make the transition much easier for him."

"How can anyone be okay with that?"

Fenrir grinned once more, "I know someone who is coming along just fine."

Hermione frowned at him, "Who?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, pointedly meeting her eyes.

Her mind raced, she was not okay with this. She stared at him again, running over the last few minutes in her mind. Yes she was. She was okay with this, except, "I don't want to be a werewolf."

Fenrir laughed softly, "You will, mate." He laid another kiss across her lips, "I promise you. One day—" his lips brushed hers again, "you will."

A/N: Wheeeee. Backstory!