Author's Note: Welcome! This story is a bit different than traditional Harry Potter/Dramione werewolf tales. I take liberties with werewolf lore, and in some cases, reach outside of the Harry Potter universe for lore inspiration. In this, Hermione was raised without knowledge of the wizarding world, and in that way it is an AU. I promise I eventually explain everything - It's all part of the mystery. All questions will be answered! This is a slow burn Dramione fic, that takes place after the Battle of Hogwarts. EWE.

Warnings: This story will heat up in later chapters. There will be graphic depictions of violence and sex. In general, there will be mature content, including alcohol use. For chapters with mature content, I will warn readers at the beginning in an author's note.

Disclaimer: In no way do I own any part of the Harry Potter Franchise. All credit belongs to JKR. I do not have a BETA/ALPHA reader yet… and I would LOVE some feedback! If you are interested, please PM me.

I hope you enjoy :)


Secrets of the Moon
Chapter 1

Hermione itched at the skin beneath her knit jumper. The formality of the family law firm felt more stifling than usual; a pencil skirt, heels, and curtain covered windows caged her. She longed for the caress of fresh air. It had been months since her last transformation. With the moon reaching the peak of its cycle tonight, the wolf inside her was clawing for release.

It's almost time.

But, she still had to maintain appearances a while longer. Her nails dug into her arm while she paced towards her father's office door, clutching a new set of files she had notated.

"Enter," a jovial voice called in response to her brief tapping on the door.

When she peeked her head into the office, she was greeted by a warm smile, nestled amongst dimples and the faint etching of wrinkles. Smooth blond hair and his thick form offered a sharp contrast to her wild chestnut curls and naturally toned physique. As a child, it was the first indicator that proved she shared no blood relation with the man she called her father.

Early in her life, these physical differences were easy to ignore, but as she grew older, her hair wilder and her skin tone more olive, the whispers of her peers outed the secret kept by her parents. Learning of her adoption was no surprise, per se, but the lack of information surrounding her previous life and where she came from plagued her curious mind. Nevertheless, she loved her parents; the former hippies who raised her in a quiet house on the edge of a national park, where as a family they tended to gardens and swam in fresh streams. They surrounded her with books and a life rich in academic pursuit, one she likely would not have experienced otherwise. Growing up the daughter of a dentist and a lawyer, her path in life had been set early on, she merely had to follow it and enjoy the scenery.

"Dry skin again?" Her father fretted with a furrow of graying brows, as he watched her claw at her skin through the sweater.

"Yes," she muttered. Jerking her fingers away from her arm, she stepped forward to hand him the files. "I've written my analysis of the environmental case. It's quite fascinating. I think we should meet with them."

"It's not a typical case we accept, Hermione. I haven't taken on a government environmental dispute in years," he huffed, flipping through the neatly organized papers.

At the sight of her deepening frown, he paused and then grumbled, shaking his head mostly to himself. "Alright, alright. Set the appointment… but I make no promise that we will take the case!" Her father slowly conceded, eyes warming in response to the rare smirk budding on Hermione's face. "Are you finding this more enjoyable? Now that you've been here a few months, I mean."

She was not. But she forced her best smile and nodded, ignoring the tension brewing under her skin. She loved her father, and she ached whenever she was the reason for the sadness in his wise eyes. "I enjoy cases that are meaningful to me," she explained lightly. "Divorce and family disputes over wealth feel repetitive. You raised me to care about more than that."

Her father released a deep laugh, setting the papers on his desk. "So it's all my fault, isn't it?" He said wryly, failing to hide the pride in his booming voice.

Hermione chuckled, and wrung her hands to keep from itching. "I suppose. We used to read about you in class- the water protection acts, and the conservation laws you fought for. And anyway, you know my affinity for the woods," she shrugged nonchalantly.

The light in her father's smile dulled to a waning candle, and the corner of his mouth quirked downward. Her love of the woods was a sore subject for her parents, and the real reason she suspected her father transitioned away from working as an environmental lawyer.

Despite her best efforts, her parents always knew she was different than most children; inexplicable occurrences marked her upbringing. The wolf inside was her best-kept secret, painstakingly hidden from everyone she knew. Including her parents. Only she was aware of the duality that split her consciousness.

All her life, she suspected her parents buried their concerns regarding her unusual behaviors, justifying their occurrence until she was old enough to properly conceal them. That is not to say it was easy to hide, even with years of practice. When she was two, there was no way she could know that her impeccable senses were odd; she heard the deer in the forest before anyone could see them, and she used her sense of smell to find things. Sometimes, in her tantrums, the lights would respond by blinking, or a glass would slip from a shelf. When she turned five, she could outrun boys double her age, relying on her balance and coordination to excel in athletics, with little to no practice.

Hardest, however, were the nights her body dragged her, sleepwalking into the forest where the darkness of the wood called out to her very soul. On more than one occasion, her parents searched frantically amongst the shadowed trees when they were aware of her absence, screaming their pleas for her return, but she never did. They'd recover her sleeping body from the back lawn each morning after her escape, nervously glancing at one another about the odd quirks that possessed their growing daughter. Much to her parents' curiosity, the weather never seemed to affect her; fever constantly smoldered under her skin. By the time she was twelve, they decided to rent their cabin in the woods and move to the casual quiet of a suburb, far from the call of the forest. They had assured her it was because they wanted to live closer to work, but in her heart, Hermione knew this was simply another justification they used to make her feel less peculiar.

Thirteen was the year her body split in half during the rise of the full moon. The thoughts in her head she had learned to keep at bay ripped forth and took control, unable to stay tucked within any longer.

That night had changed her; she was no longer her own. Piece by piece, she transformed slowly back into a version of herself; unable to ignore her fate any longer, a precarious balance between her wolf and she formed. While they were not in synch, as they perhaps ought to have been, her wild nature and human side reached a tentative agreement- neither would take over completely.

Years passed, and Hermione followed her parents' dreams, making them proud with each milestone achieved, most recent of which was her law degree. Her wolf waited, defiant, impatient, in the background. A week ago, at the age of twenty-five, she was finally able to return to the cabin of her childhood, purchasing it from her hesitant parents, who eventually agreed as a way to see their daughter's genuine smile once more. Commuting to her father's law office was a sacrifice well worth her time. Her wolf felt the insatiable call of freedom, and peace mulishly returned to her bones.

After years of battling with herself, Hermione found that she was mostly content with life's new balance… all except the questions about her existence that lingered on the edges of her mind, of course. Was her duality the reason her real parents left her on the doorsteps of the orphanage, with nothing but a blanket and a scribbled letter upon aged parchment?

And, if her adoptive parents knew who and what she was, would they too abandon her?

Even now, it was this fear that kept her silent, the reason she hid her wolfish tendencies, transforming only deep in the forest, hidden amongst the darkness of midnight, when the wolf within could no longer remain caged. At times, her dual nature was a source of comfort; She had never met any others like herself. Though her beast felt isolated, she was never rid of the companion lurking just below her conscience.

"-big deal to take on a monumental case so early in your career. We will work together to… Er, Hermione?"

The worried look on her father's aging face brought her back to his office. Her cheeks turned red under the realization that he had been speaking to her through her trance.

"Princess," he slowly assessed her tired features, "why don't you schedule the meeting and then take the rest of the day off. Get home before dark and relax, you've earned it."

Leaning over his desk to give his hand a tight, reassuring squeeze, Hermione smiled with as much strength as she could muster. "Thank you, dad. This case means a lot to me."

It's almost time.

Relief flooded her body as she raced away from the city and towards the woods, where tonight, she would celebrate a new chapter of her life.


No sooner did the tires of her old SUV touch the dirt driveway when she began tearing the clothes off her heated body. The buttons of her blouse scattered on the floor, and she reached for the zipper of her skirt while she pressed her elbow against the door handle. The wolf within did not care about the cost of a tailor. Emerging from the car, naked skin bathed in the light of the sun setting through the trees, she felt the familiar fire under her bubbling skin.

Effortlessly, her body contorted - cracking releasing, changing - and when at last her paws connected with the earth, she took off running into the vast forest surrounding her cabin.

A howl forced itself from her chest, the happiness of her wild companion was uncontainable. It had been months since she had last been able to run wild. Passing her exam to become an official solicitor was her top priority, and her opportunity to traverse the forest was limited.

But now… Don't you feel it?

She made quick work of scanning the forest, paws digging into the fresh earth while she darted from tree to tree. These forests had raised her, embraced her wild self and nurtured the parts that were invisible; navigating the trees was in her blood. Her chestnut fur rustled with the breeze, and the further she ran, the freer she felt.

Dusk had fallen upon the forest, and the waking of new creatures tickled her senses. Alone, she could not handle larger game, but she was magnificently fast, adept at hunting rabbits and squirrels. Tonight, her wolf would feast.

Faster. Just beyond the meadow.

Cutting through the empty field, she saw her first unfiltered view of the full moon illuminating the tall grass. A calm flitted through her fur, and she yipped in response, surrendering more of her consciousness over to the wild. Nose turned toward the wind, she caught the scent of her meal, and without hesitation, she pressed her hind legs further into the dirt, propelling forward.

Back amongst the trees, she trodded forward after the delicious scent of a warm, quick pulse. Amidst the shadows she felt alive, the energy of all living matter seeped into her starved psyche. It was so very easy to get enchanted by the beauty in these woods. Her father had inherited the cabin and all of its nearly 10 hectares of land, most of which bordered nationally protected forests. Every rock, hidden stream, and branch had raised her, and she knew them as family. She knew where to hunt for wild food, and the best places to curl up and bask in the morning rays.

In her peripheral, she saw movement, and her legs became still. Eyes wide, and ears turned outward, she listened, tapping in to her heightened senses. Crouching, her paws inched forward, breathing steady and silent. In the darkness, her eyes saw all, from the individual specks of dirt, to the shallow puffs of warm air leaving her prey.

Silent. Steady. Closer.

Lunging, her teeth punctured the neck of the rabbit, and a snap resounded through the trees.

Her wolf gleefully yelped at the fortune of a meal.

But, in her focus for food, she had tuned out the rest of the world until the hairs on the back of her spine were standing at attention, warning of a danger too close to outrun.

At the top of the tree line stood a wolf, incredibly large, and stark white against the black of the forest. Fur that nearly glittered silver from the illumination of the full moon meant that Hermione could see every detail of the burly creature. Her nostrils flared, filled with the delicious scent of musky pine and burning firewood.

What stood out most, however, was not his impressive size, nor his coloring, but the intelligence peering out through grey eyes. Intelligence that mirrored her own. She let out a low growl, teeth still dripping with the blood of her kill. But that didn't stop the white wolf from stalking forward.

Though large, his movements were elegant, and his head never dipped; he was proud and confident. Again, she growled, kicking up dirt with her back paw, a warning for him not to stray any closer. Resisting the urge to bow to his regal posture, Hermione watched as his form grew nearer in her vision, but she made no movement away.

We will never win.

Assessing his prominent size she stowed her teeth. If it came to a fight, he'd easily crush her with a single bite.

When he was no more than twenty paces from her, he tilted his head to the side, ears cocked forward, putting her erratic heartbeat on display. He let out a beautiful howl, soft and firm, commanding, yet questioning. The fur on her back yielded, lulled by the harrowing tones and questioning silver eyes of the wolf.

And yet, the words from her biological mother's letter, which had been tucked safely in her blanket as a newly orphaned babe, rang strong in her ears; Stay hidden, and safe. Let the moon be your guide.

Glancing up at the moon's soft glow between the trees, she tentatively stepped forward, taking the white wolf off guard. Using his momentary distraction to her advantage, her paws kicked dirt into his eyes and she dashed off to his left, galloping toward the dense brush.

There was no hesitation in her gait, no time to look back. She felt him gaining speed, could hear his light steps and hard breathing close behind. Speed had always been her strength, and she let herself fall deeper still into her wolf. Trees darted past, old leaves crunching under her paws with each leap forward.

He could be a companion! No longer alone! Her wolf chastised, but she growled low in her chest, and fought the urge to slow. He'd kill her… she was certain.

Faster. Harder. Toward the waterfall.

Instinctively, she maneuvered away from the direction of her cabin. Unwilling to reveal her safe haven, she ran in the opposite direction, toward the drop-off, where the river flowed over the edge of the world into a deep pool of water. If she could make it there, she'd give herself completely to her wild side, jumping down to safety.

The white wolf kept pace, only a few short meters behind, and she wondered if he'd ever tire. Nearing the rushing water, she felt her mind switch, melting away with the last of her humanity.

Stay hidden, and safe. The note flashed in her mind. Stay hidden. She would tire before she outran him, his powerful, long legs would best her eventually.

A growl erupted from her throat, and she burst forward with impossible speed, dark fur stealthy in the shadows. Three meters, then two, her paws ached as they slammed against the stone ledge.

She'd made this leap before, countless times, but each one took her breath away. The last of her steps bounded off the earth, and then there was nothing but air below her body. A panicked yelp broke the silence behind her.

As she free-fell, she tumbled; Paws kicking. Fur flying. Heart thumping. In her throat, she felt the nauseous push of her stomach.

Until she hit the icy water below. Cloaked by the water, she righted herself, staying underwater as she made her way across the deep pool, where thick brush met the river.

By the time she surfaced, hidden in absolute darkness, his loud howl and whines called to her from high above, and he begged for an answer. But she disappeared into the dark forest. She knew she might only have seconds of an advantage.

Silencing her wolf's violent pleas against it, she shifted. Moonlight bathed her naked skin, but her hair still stood on edge. She threw herself into the wet dirt, coating and muddying every inch of herself, and then she crawled toward a thick area of brush and rocks. She pushed herself into a dark crevice further burying herself in dirt and dead leaves. If she could remain quiet enough, mask her scent long enough, perhaps he'd lose interest. Perhaps she could escape back to her cabin and forget his demanding cries.

Shaking with a mixture of chill and fear, Hermione remained absolutely still. Absolutely silent. Her only indication the white wolf still searched for her was his call through the trees. His calls to her. It physically hurt to ignore, and she curled within herself, waiting for morning.

A single thought stayed with her as dawn brightened the shadows.

We are not alone.