DISCLAIMER; HP belongs to JKR. The story line and all new characters, new develoment are my intellectual property

a/n This and the next chapter tomorrow, will be until after the Holidays. We are quicklly coming to the end. This chapter starts tying loose ends, explains happenings along this story.

The Lovers

"Let's go to Shell Cottage, if only for a short while." He whispered when in front of the Floo.

She just nodded in agreement, already feeling his body next to her, Bill took the ashes and lowered his voice, "To Shell cottage."

The crows were already at the window sill and had checked the perimeter for danger. Bill and Hermione fell out the Floo, in each others' arms.

Bill stood up in one fluid movement, scooped up his beloved into his arms, and kissed her all the way to the bedroom. Before they fell into the bed their garments were off.

He fell in the bed, onto his back with the witch straddled on to him.

His mouth was in a frantic run, from her lips to her neck, to latch in a rosy nipple and then to the next. She wasn't missing a second, in their urgency their heads collided more than once. A strangled laughter was the mere acknowledgement of such collisions, their hunger wouldn't allow such minor mishaps.

And out the clear blue it came, "I love you, I do. I love you, I am sorry we're not together. Fast, now."

Hermione didn't notice that he'd stopped kissing her and was just staring. His eyes flashing from blue to gold "You really, really love me? Are you now sure?"

"Yes, I am, was, and will be, William Weasley and Lobo Weasley, I love you one, I love you twice, I do, now let's continue," and laughing both resumed their love feast.

Her hand went straight for his aroused cock, as she climbed over him, "No," he protested, and tried to reverse their position; he pushed her legs open, and not stopping, the blunt head sought the moist entrance; all while their mouths united in fevered passion. In a second, he drove in, they stopped to look at each other, a shuttered, "Hmm," was all they could manage.

Hands touched their hot skins, lips, teeth, tongues worked together. They licked, kissed, bit, touched, tasted, whatever they could reach, all while Bill thrusted relentlessly, and she moved with him with matched passion. She was just as hungry feeling him inside of her; and both reached at the same time to touch the other's sexes.

"Bill…Hermione…aah, … love…yes…" disjointed words, barely recognizable as speech. Grunts, moans, body to body caresses, wanting to become one. Her body shook, riding a wave after another, her channel caressing Bill's cock with each contraction.

"My love," shuddery supplications, fingers inside mouths, his mouth on her neck, clamped over the mark, her mouth, his fingers over her sex. Their bodies arched as his climax was evident; he released his mouth clamped on her shoulder; and placed his lips over her lips, not even kissing, just sharing breaths.

He felt his seed burning up, and howled as he released into her. The entire cottage was wrapped in a glow, the guardians were suffused with the hungered energy. Their bracelets filled fast. Then, the new bands, wrapped around their upper arms, made to save any excesses, filled entirely, and the rest was sent back where others stored gathered in a viewing room consumed with relish and joy. The couple was back.

Inside, the bed's occupants seemed to be out, they were a tangle of arms, legs, and even sexes. Their bodies apparently had melded with sweat and releases.

Bill was dreaming the dream of the blue skin maiden and the alien wolf-man. They were also wrapped on each other, and the scene was so familiar, he could feel the soft grass around them. He could hear her breathing and her soft words, spoken in an unknown language that he, Bill, understood. "We might die in the coming fight, but we will forever find each other to share this, my love." The wolf-man, that was Bill looked at the four moons, and other celestial bodies above them, on a multihued foreign sky.

Hermione was dreaming the same. She licked the silvery skin of the man-wolf above her. She was a powerful princess amongst her people, "You will always find me, and the memory will stay when our love is renewed. And maybe one day, maybe. My beloved, my eternal love." And touched his mark, the mark of his people, that looked exactly like the new engravings on the Prewett coin.

She woke up suddenly, and her hand went straight to Bill's neck. She wanted to verify her assumptions, and yes her dream was right. Bill opened his eyes, his eyebrows raised questioning her.

"I was dreaming of a strange world, and a mark just like this." She pointed at the coin's engraving.

Both looked at each other remembering, a recollection of the vision, and stopped wondering when he felt renewed desire. The feeling of his prick held in the tight sheath, molding it as a warm, slick fist around him was enough. He flipped her over him, and bent to kiss her neck, shoulders, and her breasts, as he drove in rather gently. This time she just looked at him, as she worried her bottom lip. His face was superimposed with the alien face of the dream. The feeling it had not been just a dream, kept her anchored to the alien world, she was certain it had been theirs and maybe still was.

Soon her responsive body and his caresses, brought her back to the present moment, and she joined him fully. Her hands went to his bottom and teased him. He tensed his muscles in anticipation,"Yes, you know how, oh love, yes, " as he felt her slender fingers reaching and caressing. "Yes my love.." Both were united in a haze of pleasure; and the alien dreams became one with their real world.

One of the guardians had been pulled inside their dream, and now understood who the Golden Couple, was and had been. How he wished to be in his real form, one not so unlike the one in Bill's dreams. He was happy to know their prince hadn't been eaten by the darkness, that evil that had but annihilated all his brethren. His Geist, his soul lived on, as they had been taught. They had made it through the gates, and now had the chance for renewed life in a human body, maybe a very long, long life. All his people fully understood.

He wished he could go down in one knee and declare his allegiance. He wished that he hadn't lost faith and done so much damagedriven by his anger. And for the first time ever, ohe cried. The fabled couple lived again. This was a day of rejoicing of hope for the future.

Others like him were rejoicing accross the fabrics of time and space. Meanwhile, his mind came back to his post, and he heard steps inside the cottage; by the Floo. The steps belong to more than one individual The guardians readied, something was wrong. But they were being blocked, like the day at the vaulted room.

Fenrir and SURPRISE!

Meanwhile, the same day, Fenrir was ruminating getting ready to take the plunge, to face Helena's father. He was done lurking and wanting;

Helena Elm, alive, she was alive and well and Miss Granger was her daughter. No wonder they look so similar. He kept thinking how Miss Granger reminded him of Helena, his true mate. Of course he had dismissed it at the time. When he had inquired those many years ago, he had been told that she had died during an attack from unknowns, and that her body had never been found.

He was still hard and had been for days. He had pocketed her scarf. The one he had 'found' in the Hospital, and kept in his pocket; that and the strap of fabric tied to the scarf; well...hmm, okay the fabric was one of her knickers. It wasn't stealing, I needed them to give me comfort, was his reasoning.

He had gone by the Elm Manor every day and night for five weeks now, and before nearly a month at her Muggle home. Once he had saved her, although the attackers got away. He was certain that they were werewolves but unknown to him.

Helena, his Helena, bloody hell, since he had seen her again he was on fire, day and night. His cock wanted her, his wolf wanted her, fuck he wanted her, he'd waited too long. He remembered how much he wanted her before, and how Plato had howled when he saw her with the young Black. The young lovers were naked, near the Forbidden Forest. He had wanted to murder him. It was a good thing that they were not making love, otherwise Black would have been killed. Albeit, he had walked away, her naked body was forever etched on his brain, as well as the smell of her arousal, of her unusual and unique scent.

The ball was nearly upon them. He had hired a marriage broker and had come to talk to her father, hoping to get ahead from the suitors' pack. He dressed carefully, assisted by his father's house-elf. He was ready, clean short nails, hair tied neatly, signet ring, new robes, a waist coat, the works. He was playing his Lord Greyback role, the tall, dark, and elegant aristocrat.

He knew the list of hopefuls was long; after all, Lord Elm had several marriageable witches, his two daughters, two nieces, and two of his grandaughters; and even the younger witches were already sought by poweful houses. Everyone knew Elm was a tough sell, and reigned over all his relatives, a human alpha you could say.

It was a veritable witches' cornucopia. The Pureblood males were in open competition to be married into a 'good' family; and it didn't hurt the curly hair didn't hurt. Elm witches weren't lacking in beauty, if not in height.

Fenrir smirked at his last thought. "Yeah, I am fucking lucky to have so much competition for the petite beauties." His tone was self-deprecating. He muttered under his breath while Lord Elm walked away to pour him a drink. And he said louder, "I understand that you might have objections because of my affliction, but you should know about—"

"Lord Greyback, before you say more. You must already know, that I have nothing against you wolf. As you well know my grandmother was one. ''

Greyback was floored, no, he didn't know it, how could that be? He felt as if he had been hexed; he had, the hex of shocking surprises. He pretended to go along, while sweat trickled down his back, and his skin felt clammy.

"How is your father? He was my grandmother's alpha as you already know. She confessed to me that she had once loved him madly, while we talked on a day when she was very sad. It was after my father and mother died, victims of unknown attackers, a fire destroyed their bodies. I think it was the order; but my grandmama thought otherwise. Anyway, as you must know they were to be mated, but her grand love was my grandfather." He smiled remembering.

No, Fenrir didn't know. Why hadn't his father said something, his stomach felt upset. Imbecil, he never told his father or had he, of corse he had, but wait, he had but not the namr. What was he saying?

"… she couldn't shift, it was a hex, because my grandmother used to be a wolf. We think she was allowed to marry my grandfather, because she no longer was able to shift; and maybe he considered that all the rest of her family was killed during one of the wars. Your father gave her freedoom, and she was able to leave the pack.

"Do you care to see my family albums, they are in a vault. It would be a pleasure sharing them with you. Not many have seen them."

Fenrir was still tongue tied, he wanted to run to his father and ask the old fool, why hadn't he said when he t…No stop it there, we never told him about Helena. I told you you were being foolish, and your friends and sister told you the same. All he knew was that you're dating a young witch. Plato the I-told-you-so wolf reminded him.

Lord Elm was still talking, …" they saw them, but none of my children have seen them. I am not sure how they would take it. I myself have no lunar phases problems like my grandmother did, but maybe that I more irritable than usual...ah, and increased like for my wife…" He chuckled and Fenrir wanted to check if he was dreaming. "The harder one is the aging process, and I am already suffering thinking of my wife…" he didn't not complete the sentence.

"Neither did my father, he also didn't age. All the children have extreme good night vision, all can smell like a hound, and all are very agile, strong, and a bit cunning, just look at my grandchild," he chuckled. "Sometimes, I think she is about to tell me of her shifting. The eyes are just a little darker than my grandmother's; her magic is so powerful; and she is willful and has the knack for finding trouble. Maybe one of this house will marry one of your family?" He looked at frozen Fenrir.

"Who knows, maybe one day cubs will be with us again, maybe even a prince?"

He winked his eye, and Fenrir who was stuck to the chair, felt as if he were suffocating, not able to breath. Sweat covered his brow, this couldn't be right. But why did he not smell the wolf in Helena?

"Here lets go to the reading room by the vault. "

Fenrir walked behind him, as, in a dream, his Helena had wolf shifter blood, and from one of the royal families. Blood passed from mother to son, and from son to son, father to daughter, basically intact inheritance. Hell, think, Miss Granger and with a small push…bloody hell all this family. So many of them, royals each one of them, the chance for someone to live again in one of the closed great Manors. Why hadn't his father said something?

Because your pa is an old fool. Who knows what else he is hiding? I, Plato, told you way back then to kill the Black pup and take her away. You are the imbecil. My mate mine, what is wrong with you. Surprise? No hardly, remember we only love those of high birth. Always. I tol…

Shut up, enough of your preaching, yes, yes, you said it? So what, what to do now?

Twenty minutes later as they looked at the moving pictures, he saw one of his now dead mother, and a a picture of Helena's grandmother, standing next to his father dressed in an early 20th century garb. By his father's side stood a tall wolf, his father's dead second. Damn, why hadn't he noticed, it was Maurice, the brother, with even curlier hair. And Begonia sure enough, how had his father failed to make the connection with Hermione, her pictures were all over the place?

The picture of the small she-wolf, as a pup, with the wavy tail running after his dad in wolf's form, made him wish for a pup just like her, with Helena. He could see himself running with his she-wolf, he could.

Helena's grandmother, the daughter of a wolf killed long ago, indeed looked a lot like Miss Granger, a dead ringer, and even Helena looked a bit like her. The long curly tresses, their petite figure, their amazing bums; gods, he was going to kill his father.

"Lord Greyback, you have hardly said a word is something wrong, have I offended you?"

'No, I am just overwhelmed, in all honesty I was afraid to come and see you. I was not certain if you would consider me worthy. "

The stuffy Pureblood laughed dryly, "Yes, I know of your wicked reputation, but, I also know of the great massacre during the Muggle war, when your pack was betrayed. However, you are from the purest royal blood, carrying the strongest magic of all. If you can convince Helena, and you come not as Fenrir the nasty werewolf, but as Lord Greyback, I will welcome you into my family. It would be an honor. But the nasty werewolf must be gone, forever."

Fenrir shook his head like dog, to clear up the fuzziness, and Lord Elm guffawed.

"You do what my father did, and my grandmother did as well. It is too funny." He laughed even more.

Fenrir hardly cracked a smile. All had taken a surreal turn. He downed his second glass of firewhisky, but he still felt cold.

"My grandmother Begonia told me that her greatest regret was not being part of the pack. She looked for signs in her children and grandchildren, but it has never been present. She said the first month the babies cannot control their form, that comes later, after just months. She hoped each baby would turn into a cub and nothing. It happens, I know. I suppose my grandpapa's blood was too strong." He sighed rather dissapointed,

"Ah, yes, I can tell you this, because I know who was the traitor that sold your pack's location. My grandmother often hinted that your mother had never liked her, and she has always been afraid that she might have been cursed, but she had no prove. She said your mother stood near her when the hex hit her. My. Grandmother also saw Griselda near my great-grandfather, who took another hit for her, and was killed. Being cut from the pack would often bring tears to her eyes; at least until I last saw her. No more of that... Ah, my father and brother and my twin sister, had to glamour their appearances up to their deaths."

He moved his hand over his face, and Fenrir saw a man on his 30's, he had to have strong shifter's blood. But did not smell of wolf. He sniffed, and neither of human, a disguise, a cover scent. Too much to take. Another hand pass, and the older Lord Elm was back. Shit, that was Helena's 'unique' scent, fool, fool, and once again a fool. Hardly an Oxford scholar, ha, ha. More like the village idiot. I did smell the wild mint and that should have been a clue, human+magic+ something not human...imbecil.

a/n I wondered how many of you saw this coming? I have left cues for you all. As for the wolf man dream, was mentioned once before. But there are one or two more twists down the road. Happy Holidays to you all. One more chapter tomorrow...