Story Notes

Hi... Wow, what a response we got to chapter one, thank you all so, so, so very much! Here is chapter two, then... and things are getting a little bit strange in the woods...

Thank you as always to champagneandliterature for your awesome alpha/beta skills, and also for putting up with my mad questions and ponderings, even at the most unlikely hours!

Also a huge thank you goes to the amazing HwaetWeGardena for agreeing to alpha read and to check for any plot inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. I'm very, very grateful to both of you!

Thank you to everyone who is reading this, and has left kudos or a comment. We appreciate every single one of you! XXx

Also, just in case anybody is wondering, the villiage of Burley is a real place in the New Forest, and I'm lucky enough to live fairly close to it. It really does look and feel like an ancient, wild place, and the legends, folklore etc I'm going to include in this story are actually real ones.

Here we are then... Enjoy... and beware of what you might find in the woods! Lots of love, Claire. (Phoenix.)

Before The Dawn

Chapter Two - All Is Not As It Seems!

Burley Village, New Forest, Hampshire, England.

Hermione's senses were still tingling erratically as she trekked through the ancient woodland that surrounded the village of Burley in the New Forest. Consequently, she wasn't paying attention to where she was walking, and she cursed as her heavily booted foot slipped in the mud. Luckily her fall was broken by her coat which snagged on a low growing branch. Sighing, she stopped to unhook herself then continued to follow Harry along the overgrown path.

The Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures regularly received reports of suspected lupine activity from this area. Because of this, Harry and Hermione kept both the village and its surrounding acres of wild forest well monitored. Despite all of the alleged activity, however, they were yet to find any proof that werewolves inhabited the area. Tonight was no exception. They had been fruitlessly searching, following up the latest official lead for three hours, all to no avail. "Seriously, Harry," Hermione said, blasting a patch of particularly thick brambles out of the way with her wand, "why can't werewolves reports come from easier to access places?"

Harry paused, waiting for her to catch him up. The narrow animal track they were following was a path they knew well and had used many times, but somehow it looked different tonight. Maybe it was the bright moonlight that was currently bathing the woods in an ethereal, silvery glow, or maybe Hermione was just being overly alert following her hyper-realistic dream.

Harry grinned as she waved away his offer of a supportive hand. "Because we wouldn't have the challenge of tracking them like this if they were easy to find, and despite your current grumpiness, you've already told me you enjoy the thrill of the chase."

Hermione let out a slight, noncommittal hum as they continued to walk. Harry was right, of course, she much preferred fieldwork to being cooped up in an office. Searching through acres of beautiful woodland in the cool spring nights had so far proved to be very enjoyable indeed, even though they were yet to stumble across anything of note.

Tonight felt different, though. Something was putting her on edge. She could sense the anticipation in the air as strongly as she could sense the lingering, jarring arousal in her body.

The trees and undergrowth gradually thinned as they walked until eventually, they stepped out into a small forest clearing. Their movement startled a pair of crows that took flight, both cawing loudly. One flew away, but the other stayed to circle the clearing in what felt like a rather ominous way.

Hermione frowned as she followed Harry out of the shadows of the trees. The silver light of the half-moon fell directly upon her face, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up in response. A herd of cows was dozing at the bottom of a centuries old oak tree, and several of them turned their heads to regard her and Harry through mild brown eyes. "Do you feel that?" she asked, looking over her shoulder in concern.

"Feel what?" Harry asked, gazing around in the slightly better light. "More to the point, did we take a wrong turn? Where the hell are we?"

"A tingle. Here?" she said, also looking around in confusion. She pointed to the back of her neck to clarify, but Harry wasn't looking. "And I've no idea where we are. I've never seen this clearing before. I thought that was our usual path out of the village?"

Harry looked baffled. He shook his head as the cows resumed their leisurely chewing. "I thought it was too!" He set his wand on the palm of his hand. "Point me." Hermione absently stroked the strangely throbbing pulse points in her neck, watching as the wand merely spun in unhelpful circles. "Well, that's new as well. My wand's never done that before. I'm not feeling any tingling though. All I feel is a desire to find some sign of these damn werewolves and to work out how we've gotten lost. Hermione, there are cows everywhere too, you know I'm not keen on cows!"

Hermione blinked. She pushed her hair out of her eyes as another three cows wandered slowly across the open ground to join the larger group. "They must be friendly ones, Harry, or they wouldn't be wandering loose in the forest. I think they're the least of our worries right now," she looked around, still feeling unsettled. One part of her wanted to turn tail and head straight back out of the clearing, the other part wanted to explore it further.

"Hmm. I don't mind the wild ponies so much, but I'm definitely not sold on the cows," Harry admitted, still frowning in confusion as he looked around. "Don't you think this is a bit odd Hermione?" He pushed his glasses up his nose and rumpled his own hair in a way that reminded Hermione strongly of his father, Chief Auror James Potter, "that in the three months we've been doing this, we've not seen one shred of proof that there are werewolves around?"

"Well, yes," Hermione concurred. "I've thought that for a while. I just didn't like to say too much because you seemed so sure of what we were doing. But what exactly are you trying to say?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know," he admitted, sounding frustrated. "I'm just starting to wonder if the Ministry's on the right track with the werewolf theory after all. Let's look at the facts while we try to figure out where we are." He led the way to a fallen beech tree and sat down. Hermione followed, feeling with her hands to find the least uncomfortable patch of bark to sit on.

Harry pulled out his water bottle, took a sip then passed it on to Hermione. "As far as we know Fenrir Greyback was the only werewolf who was running around injuring people during the war. We know he tried to turn a lot of people, but we also know that he was incredibly careless about it," Harry broke off, watching the crow that was still circling the clearing.

"Think about this though. Most of Greyback's victims died during his attacks, and those that survived were people who were on our side during the war. They were good people, Hermione, good people don't suddenly go feral and start rampaging around the countryside just because a werewolf attacked them. Good people choose to manage their lycanthropy the way Remus and Bill do. The more I think about it the more I believe we're on the wrong track entirely here. I think we're tracking the wrong thing."

"But," Hermione protested, watching the clouds skid across the inky black sky as the gentle breeze picked up into a stronger wind. "What about the reports of muggle disappearances? What about the bodies they've found? They were all mutilated, Harry. The death reports categorically state that they were werewolf victims. And, also, what about the trails of destruction we're supposed to be following? What about all the reports of lupine activity?"

"Have you ever seen any?" Harry challenged, clearly getting into his stride as he turned to face her. He took a long drink from the bottle Hermione passed back to him, then stared around the clearing again. "I know we've both seen the reports, but tell me if you've ever seen one shred of actual, tangible werewolf activity."

Hermione watched Harry with interest. He had that look about him, the look she knew meant he was piercing evidence together and coming up with a plausible theory. "We've been searching this forest for three months, 'Mione. We've not seen a single sign of actual werewolf activity in three months of almost constant surveillance. We've not ever seen one of these supposed 'trails of destruction,'" Harry wiggled his fingers into air quotes, "I'm becoming more and more convinced that we're either on the wrong track entirely, or that we're being deliberately led astray. Lumos." He sighed again, pulled his forestry commission map out of his pocket, unfolded it and studied it closely.

"There's one more thing that's bothering me about all of this," he continued. "The only Death Eater's body we've ever seen was Greyback's own. All of the Death Eater's trials were closed, meaning no one ever got to see them, and with all of our involvement in the war and with this cause, we've only ever seen one body. Azkaban is locked up tighter than MI5. Only the prison guards can get in, and they're all silenced by Unbreakable Vows. The only reason we believe the Death Eaters are currently being held in Azkaban is because we're told they are." Harry stopped, staring around him with the spark of classic Potter defiance that Hermione knew so well, burning fiercely in his emerald eyes.

Hermione watched the still circling crow with a frown as Harry continued to speak. "There's something going on here 'Mione. The longer we look into this case, the more convinced I've become. I'm going to speak to my dad and Sirius about it in the morning, but I don't think we'll ever find one damn werewolf in this forest because I honestly don't think there are any."

Hermione nodded, mulling over his words. She looked around, still feeling uncomfortable. The New Forest was a vast area of millennia old woodland. Legends abounded about it, and its entire history was tied up in the folklore of witches and other creatures of the night. Several times when she had been out tracking recently with Harry, she had felt as if she was being watched, especially in this particular area, and tonight was no exception. She shifted uncomfortably, the cows were still dozing peacefully, but she couldn't help searching the shadows just a little more thoroughly.

"Come on," she said, looking up as the clouds finally covered the moon and complete, impenetrable darkness fell, "I know I've always felt drawn to the night, but there's something spooking me out here tonight too. We shouldn't have gotten lost coming up that path." She locked eyes with the crow that was now regarding both her and Harry curiously from a nearby branch and froze as, despite the darkness, it's eye flashed a brilliant, blood red.

Harry didn't question her, he just stood up, put his water bottle away, and pulled some of his Auror equipment out of his bag. Hermione had a very good idea of the danger the forest itself presented. They should be safe from werewolves tonight even if there did turn out to be feral packs roaming these woods. The moon wasn't full for another week at least but still, there were other dangerous creatures that roamed through the untamed trees in the night.

Hermione consulted her foe glass by the light of her own wand, but it was clear. Sighing with relief she pushed it back down into her coat pocket as Harry tucked away the equally clear dark magic detector and the ill intentions gauge. As a final precaution she cast a Homenum Revelio spell then breathed a sigh of relief when the entire area registered as clear.

"Lumos," Harry muttered again, sounding uncomfortable himself. They had spent enough time together over the years to trust each other's instincts without question. "Alright, I agree. The monitors are clear, but something still feels off tonight, Hermione. Merlin knows how we've managed to get lost since we've been this way a hundred times. Point me." Harry cast the spell as forcefully as he could but his wand just spun unhelpfully on his palm again. "Oh for-" his words died on his tongue and he gazed around with a roll of his eyes. "Let's just Apparate out of here, then we can sort our minds out away from these bloody woods."

Hermione nodded as Harry stood up. "What's going on?" she asked, feeling an unbidden shiver suddenly pass through her body. She held her breath as her blood pulsed strongly in the veins of her neck once more. Something was watching them. She could feel it. She quieted her loud breathing, straining her ears to listen to the now eerie, unnatural silence of the woods. Harry put an unnecessary finger to his lips then turned towards the trees, but as Hermione followed his gaze a red light flashed and he crumpled, falling unconscious to the forest floor.

Hermione stifled a scream, gazing around in utter terror. She dropped to her knees beside Harry feeling incredibly vulnerable. Her instincts screamed at her to grab Harry's arm and Apparate them both away but common sense kicked in before she could do anything too rash. Harry was unconscious, probably stunned since the light that had accompanied his fall had been red, and she couldn't safely apparate an unconscious person anywhere. "Come on, wake up," she muttered, hating how helpless she felt. She checked his vital signs then pointed her wand at his chest. "Renerv-"

Before she could finish the spell, a strong hand clamped down over her mouth while another immobilised her wand hand. She froze as fresh terror flooded through her and the full horror of her predicament sunk in. How could this have happened? She wondered wildly, she hadn't heard anybody approach. Her blood ran cold as she realized that Harry had. That had been why he'd turned. He had heard something that she had missed, and with her hyper alert senses that meant it had been something very quiet indeed.

There were only two creatures that Hermione was aware of that could move almost silently through woods such as these in the pitch dark. One was a vampire, the other was a werewolf. Whichever one was currently holding her, she knew she was in a whole world of trouble.

She bucked her body hard, clawing at the hand that covered her mouth, ripping at any patch of skin that she could find and kicking her legs back wildly. Within a few more seconds, she was restrained as fully as if she had been placed into a full body bind and her struggles proved to be entirely in vain. She gasped for breath through her nose then froze yet again as a voice spoke in her ear. "Easy, beautiful, I don't want to hurt you."

The sound of that particular voice caused her to double her efforts, until she was in severe danger of passing out from lack of air. It couldn't be him, she was mistaken. He was in prison. He was a convicted murderer who she had on good authority would never be released. He'd been given several life sentences for crimes too horrible to even consider and one of those crimes in particular had been against her….. Her oxygen deprived brain was clearly playing tricks on her because in her particular case, being caught by anyone else in the world would be preferable to being caught by him. "Stop fighting prekrasnaya devochka, I promise you're quite safe."

As the voice spoke, causing Hermione's blood to freeze in her veins, a second, enormous figure stepped out of the shadows and picked Harry up as if he weighed nothing at all. This figure also had a familiar, terrifying outline, but he too should currently be residing inside Azkaban, also having been given several life sentences. The figure slung Harry over its shoulder, took the wand from his hand and stuck it casually into it's back pocket before Apparating sideways in a cloud of swirling, strangely odourless black smoke.

Hermione was almost catatonic with fear. Harry's earlier words came back to her. "The only reason we believe the Death Eaters are held in Azkaban is because we're told they are." Could he really be right? Had they accidentally unearthed some terrifyingly elaborate, deadly Ministry cover up?

Hermione kicked out as if her life depended on it. She heard a string of what sounded suspiciously like Russian curses, then her eyes closed against her will and her entire world faded to black.