Minerva glanced up at the cave paintings illuminated by flickering fire light, they were curious and fascinating by equal measure - so was the young woman standing only a few feet away, but the Gryffindor couldn't quite forget the way that the wolf had snarled at her before dismissing any threat that she might have posed. She didn't like being judged and found wanting, it reminded her too much of the last several years.

"Sit down, I don't bite."

Green eyes incredulously locked onto brown ones. There was a moment of silence before Minerva and the two wolves lying at the cave entrance snorted at the same moment. Hermione only chuckled and held out a tin mug of soup she had just poured from a thermos that had been resting by the lit fire when they entered the cave. The witch took it with her left hand and sat down with her back to a wall, keeping her right hand on her wand and her eyes watchful.

Hermione walked over to the two wolves, stroking one softly and murmuring something that was unintelligible to Minerva's ears to the other. The animal nodded in a very human gesture but lay back down and seemingly went to sleep. The older witch took a judicious sip of the liquid and it was the best thing she had tasted in ages. Then she had a split second of panic when her taste buds couldn't identify the meat and she froze. An astute chocolate gaze found her from across the room, guessing the reason for her elevated heart rate without being told.

"It's rabbit." Minerva tried to mask her sigh of relief but wasn't entirely successful judging from the soft, menacing growl that escaped a canine muzzle but Hermione just chuckled, patted the wolf and walked back towards her. "We don't eat humans."

"Merely kill them instead?"

"From the looks of it, they were no friends of yours."

"They weren't, far from it but you cannot just go around killing people."

"Unlike many of my kin I have spent rather a great deal of time with your people, I have no particular desire to kill anyone but our laws are more than a millennia old and absolutely essential to our survival. We only kill to hide what we are."

Minerva watched the play of emotions that crossed pretty features over the top of her mug. "You're clearly not animagi, nor, despite appearances, are you werewolves, so what are you?" She didn't know much, seemingly, but it was absolutely not a full moon, and judging from what she had previously heard, her life was already forfeit - so there was no reason for her not to ask.

The bushy haired young woman looked at her for a moment and pulled a pale coloured wand from the inside pocket of her jacket. She wordlessly cast a variation of Lumos, beloved by teachers the world over, which allowed her to highlight and identify specific figures in the intricate cave paintings on the wall. Minerva idly acknowledged to herself, with considerable expertise in the matter, that the English speaking woman had definitely received a formal magical education from somewhere and was rather adept at putting it into practice.

"Legend has it that when humans first emerged from the trees, there were three distinct groups of people. What you call Muggles but we call the Gatherers; what would eventually become wizarding kind; and the Hunters, who could take the form of wolves. For untold centuries we lived in peace. We travelled the world; following the migration of prey and the seasons. The hunters protected us from threats and fed our people, often at great risk. Wizards could call the animals in times of need, could prevent disasters and change the world; just by imagining it so."

The young woman paused to sip from a bottle of water, playing the light over a series of images. "Then civilisation happened; we developed farming, villages, towns and technology. Witches and wizards could adapt; shifting their talents to healing, charms and conjuration. My kind were left behind, redundant at best and then we became vilified."

The highlighted images on the wall changed, wolves being shown chased by Muggle weapons and magic alike. "Even before the persecution of the dark ages where my kin and magic users were slaughtered in their thousands, we were the scapegoats for all of the wrongs of the world. Rightly so in some cases but we were brought to the very edge of extinction a number of times."

The young woman's words had become faster, more passionate. "We retreated from living memory, formed Conclaves all over the world and secrecy became paramount. We hide from everyone and our entire society is based on that premise."

Minerva had finished her meal and was feeling immeasurably better for the rest and the food. "Hence your friends' reaction to my presence?"

Hermione nodded, "Humans are… as a rule… not allowed to enter our lands or know about our species. It's an absolute, zero tolerance policy and the consequence is death. We are not allowed to shift in front of a human, hunt humans, and we are not even allowed off of our land unless we have absolute control of our transformation. The risk is too great, as must the penalty be."

Minerva sheathed her wand, realising it was pointless. "I have more questions than answers now."

Hermione put her own wand away and ran both hands through her hair, mussing it further, "I'm probably not doing the best job of explaining it. It's not a story I have ever had to tell or been allowed to tell."

She paused, watching Minerva and continued speaking, "You know of creatures that you call werewolves, we aren't like them, they are cursed by some ancient magic. We are born, mostly from our traditional, carefully managed bloodlines. Nobody can be turned into one of us."

"Mostly?" Hermione smirked silently. "So presumably the three types of humans can interbreed. Is that where your magic came from?"

"Yes, my Grandfather was a wizard; I don't know who. My Grandmother came back from a mission already pregnant. Magic is uncommon amongst us but hardly rare."

"And having human ancestry isn't a problem?"

"Not at all."

"You clearly had a magical education?"

Hermione nodded, "Ilvermorny. The Council of Elders wouldn't approve of me being far away at eleven, they weren't convinced that I could control myself at such a young age. Ilvermorny is the only one of the 'big five' who will accept students who defer entry. I started just before I was thirteen."

"And the children who cannot control their transformation…? Or is it puppies?"

A laugh, "Either is fine. We do have a magical school that most children with magical ability attend but it's assuredly not Hogwarts."

Minerva felt a familiar pang at the name of her spiritual home. It had been so long since she had last seen it. "Hermione? So by what you are telling me I should be dead a number of times over. I am no fool, you saved me, what I don't understand is why."

Chestnut eyes shifted uneasily, "You were already contained and either way your fate was sealed."

"Either way?"

The young woman seemed to steel herself, "I claimed you."

"Pardon?"

"It's an old rite. From the moment I made that claim you were mine. None of them can harm you without my permission or unless you are going to escape."

"Yours to kill?"

Hermione shrugged, but then shook her head, "I already told you that I wasn't going to hurt you."

"So what does it mean?"

This time chocolate eyes locked onto Minerva's face, watching her intently. "I claimed you as mine, which bought us time for this conversation, and the only way that I can keep you alive is to take you as my mate."

"Your what?!"

Hermione smirked at the older woman's shock. "My mate. As in girlfriend, lover, whatever other synonym you care to attach to it. Although wife would probably be the most accurate translation but among my kind, it's a lifelong commitment."

Minerva's jaw dropped in a way that was almost comical. The silence lingered between them, as the younger witch gave her room to absorb the information. "So… What you're saying is that we have to decide…"

"I already decided, so it's your turn."

The older witch stood up and paced, "Why? It's not like you can save every human this way."

Hermione remained seated and looked up at the witch. "I guess you got my attention, trying to take me on with a butterknife for starters. Then you healed Andrew, even though you should have tried to save yourself. Bravery without recklessness, courage, compassion, kindness and intelligence - they're all traits that my people value, as do I. You are also very much my idea of an attractive witch, which is admittedly, a bonus."

"Well it's not much of a conundrum is it? Marry a beautiful woman or get torn apart by a pack of wolves?"

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"Don't change the subject." Hermione gave a hearty belly laugh at the sharply uttered words but said nothing. "What would being your mate entail? I don't want to exchange one prison for another."

"It wouldn't be like that. True, you wouldn't be able to leave but there is enough space here to soften that blow. We have schools, shops, farms, entertainment, government, pretty much anything the outside world has. You'd be able to send owls, you could teach again if you wanted, go into research, pretty much whatever you want." Hermione paused, "In our culture mates are considered equals, they can speak at the other's place in meetings, cast votes in their stead and they share whichever rank is highest." She placed her hand softly on Minerva's wrist, "It may not be exactly what you want but it's not a bad option."

"I'm in the middle of a goddamn war."

The wolf nodded, "I get that, the urge to protect what's yours and to defend the innocent. I really do understand, but from what I hear, your side effectively lost the war long ago and in any case…"

"I can't leave." Minerva clenched her jaw, chafing a little at the prospect of being trapped and changed the focus of their conversation before she could become maudlin. "The term mate… it implies a certain outcome… I'm too old for childbearing."

"The ability to bear a child is not a prerequisite but in any case, I should be able to. There are plenty of ways for two women to achieve that, both Muggle and Wizarding." Hermione grinned broadly, "Plus unless I am mistaken, you possess at least one Mastery in Transfiguration, I'm sure that we could figure it out."

"Three actually." Minerva muttered, a slight flush apparent on her elegant features, as she registered the implications of Hermione's words.

"I stand corrected." Amusement was obvious in the younger woman's voice.

"I haven't agreed."

"You didn't say no either." Minerva was aware, both that Hermione was flirting and that she didn't mind. Maybe it was the exhaustion she wondered, or perhaps it had just been too long since anyone had taken such an interest in her. The young woman stood up, pleased that the witch no longer flinched at the movement and walked over to a pile of supplies neatly stacked in the corner and grabbed a sleeping bag. "It's too far to continue on to the settlement tonight, so we'll sleep here. You should get some rest."

Minerva wanted to demur but knew she was swaying on her feet. She took the item and retreated to the far side of the cave, still not quite feeling safe but that wasn't a new feeling, it had literally been years since she felt able to sleep in peace.

Authors Note: Thanks to Libby for the beta. Thank you all for your kind reception to this plot bunny.