Chapter 37 - Fighting Fate

The house was finally quiet; the dishes had all been cleaned, and everyone had finally settled into their regular evening routine. Hermione smiled at Harry and Ron as they battled each other in a game of wizard's chess and quietly made her way upstairs to the library.

The witch opened the door to find Fenrir sitting in one of her favorite chairs.

"Fenrir—"

"I don't know what to do with him, love." he said, his voice nearly a whine, his eyes not leaving the floor in front of him.

Hermione stared at him as she shut the door behind her. She surveyed him as she closed the distance between them. He had the same tired look in his eyes that she had seen before; sadness mixed with what looked like regret hung around his face. His hair was undone and she could tell he had been running his hands through it; something he only seemed to do when he was upset in some form or another. She was even more surprised to find Crookshanks purring quietly in the werewolf's lap; the half-kneazle knew very well who should be trusted and who shouldn't.

"It will just take time, Fenrir." She said carefully; he had never been so worked up about Remus before. Something was wrong.

"He doesn't have time." he replied quietly, still refusing to look in her direction.

"Fenrir—"

"He's dying."

Hermione froze at the werewolf's words; he couldn't possibly mean Remus; could he? It couldn't be; Remus was fine. He was a little haggard, perhaps, but that was not new. A lump formed in her throat as she tried to clarify what he had meant, all that came out was a half-hearted squeak. Crookshanks seemed to notice and hopped down to rub up against Hermione.

"Remus." He said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "I can smell it on him. He's getting weaker, Hermione. I wasn't sure until tonight, but after dinner... He's losing his grip."

She believed him, but she wasn't entirely sure what his words meant. She put a hand on Fenrir's knee and knelt down onto the floor next to his chair. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Is it too late?" she breathed.

"No. No, it's not too late." He finally looked at her, his normally bright golden eyes were dull and his brow was creased with concern. "He can't keep fighting; he's tiring, and if he keeps fighting it, he will die, but there is still time left."

Hermione stared up at the werewolf, her eyes brimming with tears, both for her friend and former professor, but for the concern Fenrir had for him. She was suddenly aware that she was the only one who would ever see this side of him, to this extent, at least. She stood to wrap her arms around the distraught werewolf, only to be pulled into his arms.

"What will happen to him?" She asked quietly, tears leaking down her cheeks; Fenrir said it wasn't too late, but she couldn't stop it if she didn't know what it was.

"I told you once before that those who die, like Remus, die because they spend their entire lives fighting the wolf inside them." He pulled her further into his arms as he continued, "What they don't understand is that the wolf is them, as much as the human. They aren't different; only different enough to squash one side or the other. I've seen both; and either ends in death. It's better when it ends all at once; when the two halves simply destroy each other."

Hermione clung to Fenrir, everything he said sounded horrible. If that was the best option, what was the other? "You told me once that the wolf always wins." she said quietly, hoping for an explanation.

Fenrir did not disappoint her and continued to talk, "The human half never survives; but sometimes the wolf does. When the two halves work together...you know what that looks like. They are one being; but apart…" He sighed slightly, as though thinking about how to best explain it to her. "It's like having a brain, but no soul. Those that do survive aren't truly themselves any longer."

"Like the dementor's kiss?"

"Worse."

Hermione blanched; what could be worse than existing as nothing more than an empty shell? Doomed to live, but without that which made you...you.

"You think I'm a monster, Hermione? Wait until Remus has nothing left but the wolf." he said quietly. "He won't even be a wolf anymore. He'll be gone, more dangerous than a rabid dog; and I—"

He seemed unable to finish the sentence, but Hermione put it together. "You'll have to kill him."

"Yes." he growled, emotion flowing to her from the rumble in his chest.

They sat for a few moments; neither saying a word. Fenrir's chest rumbled quietly against her; he seemed unable to keep his growl at bay. Hermione sobbed quietly into his shoulder. She had not imagined it would be so bad.

"Do you know the fastest way to kill a wolf, Hermione?"

She was not sure she wanted to know. She had never seen Fenrir like this before. He was so upset.

"Lock it in a cage. Lyall Lupin put that cub in a cage the moment he was bitten. He never touched Remus; he was not quite like my father, but he smashed down and squelched every instinct that came up. Anything that could have seemed like it may have been due to lycanthropy was destroyed. He may as well have hit him."

Hermione blanched; Fenrir was equating what Lupin's father had done to the same physical abuse he had seen as a child, and later, experienced. She wiped the fresh tears from her eyes and looked up at Fenrir. "He's afraid of himself." she said quietly.

"Can you blame him? His whole life he was taught that half of himself was to be smothered and hidden. Leashed." Fenrir snarled quietly. "I don't know how to undo what his father did to him. I should have taken him away from the damned wizard as soon as I knew; but I couldn't. Lyall loved his son, no matter what harm he did to him; it was not willful. He would have hunted us, and it would have been unlikely that any of us would have survived the war."

"He suffered to keep the pack safe." Hermione breathed; looking at Fenrir and the tears that welled up in his eyes as he spoke about Lupin as a child. "You— You had to make that choice."

"I watched him grow up like that. I kept an eye on him, but I knew I could never get close. There were few of us, even then; he was the sacrifice that saved the rest of us. He should never have had to bear it; but he did. I was not going to lose another of the pack's cubs due to Lupin's hate. Remus doesn't know, but he saved so many."

"Fenrir." Hermione said quietly, "He needs to know."

He responded with an equally soft growl, but Hermione knew he was not arguing. Now he was merely stressed. He had been bearing this all on his own. She supposed he was not accustomed to sharing anything with anyone but Mensis; and even the Beta was probably unaware of everything.

"If this is going to work, Fenrir. If you want to save him, you have to talk to me."

"Are you giving me orders, mate?"

"I will if I have to." she said quietly, pulling his face up to meet her eyes. "I'd rather be partners, Alpha."

She watched his jaw loosen slightly at her words, he gazed into her eyes with a hint of wonder. In that small moment, in the library of the Order Headquarters, as far from the pack as they could be, Hermione realized that being Alpha did not only mean responsibility, it meant caring. She was not certain how it all fit together; Fenrir had killed at least two members of the pack while she had been there without any sign of sorrow or remorse. Being Alpha meant keeping the pack, as a whole, safe; but it also meant keeping the whole pack safe. Cubs. That was it. Fenrir had no qualms about killing the fully-grown male werewolves who had decided to challenge him, but to him, Remus was not only just a cub, it was his fault he was dying. Remus never would have been in this situation had Fenrir never touched him, and he knew that. It was eating at him that he had doomed a child to die for the rest of them; and instead of turning away and pretending as though it had never happened, he kept an eye on him. Fenrir was continuously reminded of the price that saved his pack, because he chose to be. He could not let Remus go; he still couldn't. He was still waiting for the werewolf to come to him; to the pack. To come home.

She had been right when she thought he might make a good father; he already was. Perhaps not a perfect one; but his heart was in the right place. He was Alpha first, though; and wolves were not gentle, not really. Being kind to Remus would have shown weakness; he was an outsider, he had to earn his place, just like everyone else.

"Fenrir." she said quietly, her heart beginning to pound in her chest.

He looked at her with interest, some of the spark back in his eye. He had clearly noticed her change in demeanor.

"You know what?"

He grunted softly in reply.

"I think our cubs will be lucky to have you as their father."

He stared at her, his brow furrowed with emotion once more. He was still blinking too much, but her statement brought back most of the fire in his eyes.

"You said it's not too late for Remus." She said, trying to keep her voice chipper. "We need Tonks. She has to know this just as much as he does; all of this. I think…" She trailed off, unsure of herself.

"Mate?" Fenrir encouraged her quietly.

"I think we need the pack for this to work, Fenrir."

"I can barely even get him to come home, Hermione."

"I think I can fix that." The wheels in her head began to turn. Tonks would come without a second thought, and Remus would not let her leave without him. They really needed all hands on deck if this was going to work. "Fenrir— Do you ever have pack meetings?"

He frowned in distaste, but he nodded slowly. "Very occasionally. It's called a rout— it's a bit less stuffy than a meeting." He grinned at her, realization dawning on his face, "You're really serious about everyone, aren't you?"

She nodded determinedly. "We're a family, right? Families take care of each other. It isn't weakness if everyone is doing it. And it won't be permanent," she added quickly, "Only until he's out of danger."

Fenrir nodded thoughtfully; being gentle did not come easily to him, but Hermione was right; about all of it. He could not help but stare at her in awe. Not only at her ability to come up with a solution to the problem, but at the small things in her speech. Small things like we're and our. Things he had longed for her to say since he had first laid eyes on her. Now that there was the beginnings of a plan to save Remus from himself, Fenrir felt like he could relax.

"You know, mate," he smirked, "this was not how I imagined spending this time with you at all." Her brown eyes shone up at him, still as bright and inquisitive as ever. His chest swelled with an emotion he rarely felt so strongly. He loved his pack; he would die for them; but dying was easy. He would do anything for her.

She continued to stare at him, like she was expecting something; or perhaps studying him to make sure he was alright. She cared so much more than he thought she would; so soon after the bond. It tended to take longer, from what he had seen; but his mate seemed to settle right into it. He was just happy she was in his arms. He knew he had been away from her for longer than they had been here when he was gone with the snatchers, but they both knew he was truly away. Here, they could see each other, but she always seemed to be just out of reach; it was torture, not being able to touch his own mate.

Unable to help himself, he whined and pulled her tightly against his chest. He savored her scent as he held her for the first time in days. He looked down at her when he felt her fingers leave a gentle pressure on his jawline.

"How did you imagine spending this time with me?" She asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

He met her eyes with a bright stare of his own; a smirk slowly finding its way onto his face. "I had a few ideas." He leaned down until their noses touched. He could smell the desire on her as much as he felt her lean forward to meet him; it was still subtle, but even that was nearly overwhelming. He closed the gap between them and kissed her gently, savoring the feeling of her soft lips against his. Her hands had made their way to the back of his head and pulled him closer to her. One of his own hands rested behind her head, and the other on her shoulder. She shuddered and seemed to melt into his touch when his thumb brushed over the scar on her neck. He growled at the small sound that escaped her lips. She shifted in his lap, sitting up straighter and pulled away slightly. He was mildly breathless after the contact they had shared. He looked at his mate and she at him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were still slightly pink from her earlier tears. He brushed a stray hair out of her face, running his thumb across the smooth skin on her cheek. She moved in once more to kiss him again. Fenrir eagerly complied; he thought he had talked quite enough today. Her presence was wonderful, but her kisses were nothing short of glorious.

The sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts. He could just ignore them; but his mate would not buy that he hadn't heard them. He half-heartedly pulled away, but it was not enough to deter her. Merlin, why now? He did not want to disrupt this. It was more attention than she had ever given him; and she wasn't showing any signs of stopping.

"Hermione." He mumbled grudgingly against her lips after the third time he had gently tried to remove himself and failed.

She refused to move, and instead mumbled a brief "Mm?" into his lips.

Fenrir grinned, but turned his face so he could actually speak to her, "Someone's coming."

He had never seen anyone move so fast. One moment she was in his arms, and the next she was running her hands through her hair on the other side of the room. She glanced at him in a panic when the door began to creak open. He laughed when instead of even allowing for the thought of a confrontation, she darted out the door just as the Weasley boy walked in.

"What did you do to her?" he demanded.

Fenrir smirked and crossed his arms at the boy, "Nothing she didn't want."

The boy turned and walked after his mate; a disgusted look on his face. Fenrir looked forward to the day when Hermione told everyone the truth. Those faces would be something to remember.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for keeping up! I love hearing from you! I always love hearing about your wonderful theories about where the story is going to go =D

As for Fenrir, he's a giant floof under all those teeth, and nothing will convince me otherwise.