"I know we're supposed to be pack creatures, but at the rate Fenrir's been turning people recently it's beginning to get too crowded around here."
Draco handed Gunnolf a couple of pieces of parchment which Gunnolf began to peruse immediately.
"He says it's to make up for our losses- be it the result of the Dark Lord's missions or the Dark Lord's experiments. As alpha he hasn't grieved for any of their deaths. To him we're all replaceable. I see you've reassigned quarters," he said pointing to the names on one of the pieces of parchment, "you've got most omegas sharing quarters with- they're all pups, aren't they?"
Draco nodded.
"With this many new weres in the pack I thought it would help them transition better if each of them was paired with someone more experienced. The omegas come across as less threatening and they're happy they get to be useful to the pack. I'd like to test this arrangement out," Draco stated decisively.
"Well, you do have an instinct for these things so I'm willing to give it a try. But if it ends up making no difference we need to go back to housing all the newly turned weres in the dormitory near Cora's quarters."
"Of course... I also wanted to talk to you about building extra housing. I was thinking the parcel of land on the South East limit of the castle lands would be ideal." Draco picked up the parchment with the map of their territory and pointed to the area referenced. "The woods bordering the land are really thick at this point so we're not going likely to get any visitors accidentally dropping by. Plus the stream-"
"Having pack members housed outside, away from the rest of us?" asked Gunnolf looking up at Draco. He shoved the piece of parchment back to Draco. "No, I refuse to allow it. Our pack bonds are strained enough as it is, they wouldn't sustain the added stress of living separately."
"What do you mean?"
"Our pack is too big! I realise you don't know anything of pack life outside of your experience here, but, this" -he picked up the fat file on his desk which held every pack member's profile- "is not normal. Doesn't matter how organised the pack or powerful the alpha, a pack should never be larger than a hundred members."
"Why's that?"
"The pack bond, obviously. It's a huge strain to care for so many people. The pack bonds grow weaker from the strain on them- which in our case in a blessing and a curse, I suppose. We're unable to feel the agony of the ones being tortured right here, on our grounds, but we're also unable to blindly trust that each member has our back."
"What do you normally do when your numbers grow?"
"Pack usually splits. The one groomed to be the next alpha takes with them whoever wishes to join them and forms a new pack. This is the basis for pack alliances since neighbouring packs typically comprise of former pack members."
"Wait, I thought an alpha's powers are innate?"
"Yes, there are alphas who get their powers from their sire. But there are also those who acquire their powers by defeating an existing alpha. Lastly, there are alphas who gained their powers from the pack- the pack's acceptance of them as their leader helps them ascend to their powers. Of course this can only happen if the current alpha doesn't challenge the ascension."
Draco recalled some pack gossip related to Gunnolf that had not made sense to him before. He realised now the head beta was due to ascend to alpha status before Fenrir murdered his previous alpha.
"Argh," Draco shrieked and collapsed to the ground holding his left forearm.
"What in Hades!" Gunnolf stood up and rushed to where Draco lay on the ground.
"My Dark Mark," he managed between gasps for breath.
Once the pain subsided, he stood up with help from the other man and wiped the tears from his eyes. "The Dark Lord's summoning his Death Eaters. He's angry. Haven't felt my mark hurt this way in years, and not once since I accepted Fenrir's bond."
"Something big is going on," said Gunnolf returning to his seat at the desk now that Draco seemed okay. "Fenrir left this morning looking gleeful while our guests looked on edge- heard more than a couple of them grumbling about Harry Potter being at it again."
"If the Dark Lord is upset- especially if Harry Potter is involved- the Death Eaters have good reason to be nervous."
"Why would his followers be nervous?"
"The Dark Lord has quite the temper. He cares little for who gets caught in the crossfire when he's venting his rage. It's even worse if he thinks you're responsible in any way."
"Is that what happened with you?" asked Gunnolf quietly.
Draco shook his head.
"I let Harry Potter get away."
"The Harry Potter? Undesirable number one?"
"Yes. I couldn't kill him."
Without skipping a beat Gunnolf asked, "But, did you want to?"
Draco was pleasantly surprised that instead of assuming the worst of him, Gunnolf had chosen to ask such a question.
"I used to think I did," he replied, then sat down heavily in a chair across from Gunnolf without bothering to ask for permission first. "I was so stupid. I used to think war would be an exciting adventure. I used to think it would be extremely satisfying to get rid of my enemies with a flick of my wand..."
He remembered all those times in school he resented the presence of the Non-Purebloods, how he wished he could just do away with the Mudbloods and Halfbloods. Back when the use of any Unforgivable was a punishable offence he used to lament the narrow mindedness of wizards like Dumbledore, who he believed were holding back the progress of their kind. But then the Dark Lord and his followers moved into Malfoy Manor and Draco witnessed firsthand the curses and their effects; he finally understood then just why they were considered unforgivable. By the time the practice of the Unforgivables became part of their seventh year curriculum Draco knew what a true fool he had been.
"I used to think that way about being a werewolf," said Gunnolf interrupting his thoughts. The head beta stood up and went to the window behind his chair to stare at the rolling hills in the distance.
"In my old pack we didn't turn children till we completed adolescence. The pack did such a good job of sheltering us children from the challenges of being a werewolf that I grew resentful- I thought they were denying me these incredible powers. I was barely fifteen when I broke free of the enchantments protecting me during the full moon. A couple of the other children, my friends, saw me and followed suit.
"We rushed towards the pack during the peak of the full moon- we were so excited to join our families in the festivities. We were such fools... The wolves didn't recognise our scent as pack; we were just food to them. It was sheer luck and my alpha's timely intervention that I was only turned and not slaughtered that night. My friends though, they weren't as lucky."
Draco watched Gunnolf's large hands clutch the window sill hard enough to make his knuckles go white. Though he couldn't see the other man's face it was obvious Gunnolf was struggling to compose himself. When he was finally able to do so, he turned to face Draco, settling himself against the window sill.
"By the time I experienced my first turn I had learnt two very important lessons. I understood that my actions could have consequences for others. And I finally understood why we were made to wait till we were adults before we were turned."
Draco listened to Gunnolf and couldn't help seeing the similarities between them. They were both men haunted by the foolish acts of their adolescence. At least the adults tried to shelter Gunnolf. The same couldn't be said for the adults in his life, with the exception of one individual.
Draco, Draco, you are not a killer.
"Dumbledore tried to show me I was wrong, but it was too late by then. I had already set myself on a path."
"But, you didn't kill Harry Potter when you had the chance to?"
"I couldn't kill anyone- didn't matter how many chances I was given."
"You've never told the pack why you were punished. You let Fenrir spread his lies about you."
"It was no lie. I was punished for my cowardice."
"Not being able to kill doesn't make you a coward, Draco."
Draco left from his meeting with Gunnolf feeling a kinship with the man that went beyond pack bonds. As far as Draco was concerned Gunnolf was one of the bravest men he had ever known and to hear him say he wasn't a coward meant a great deal to Draco. By the time he picked up the twins and reached Hermione's quarters he was in a fairly good mood even if he was a little unsettled from feeling his Dark Mark burn earlier.
"Hey," she said at the sound of the door creaking open. She walked up to him and took Martin from his arms. "I need to talk to you - Oskar too, if possible."
"What is it?" asked Draco concerned by her tone.
"I overheard some of the werewolves talking and I need some answers." She paused to take a deep breath. Looking at him with her expressive brown eyes and with her tone greatly softened she added, "To be honest, I have lots of questions I'd like answers to, Draco."
He nodded in understanding. They had danced around certain topics for a while now, but perhaps it was time they spoke plainly.
Hermione visibly sagged in relief at his nod. She settled herself into an armchair and proceeded to open her blouse so she could nurse Martin- always the impatient one he was usually fed first. While her son peacefully fed from her she turned her eyes towards Draco who was sitting on the bed nearby.
"What do they mean when they say our sons are lycans?"
Draco was caught off guard by the unexpected question.
"It's nothing. Our sons are normal babies. We won't know if they are really lycans till they're in their teens."
Hermione shook her head and relayed to Draco what she overheard the man called Logan say about the boys.
Draco inhaled sharply when she was done. Merlin, as much as he wanted children he didn't really want them to bear his curse.
"Draco, what does it mean if they are lycans?" Hermione called out softly, prodding him for an answer.
"It means they're werewolves-"
"But, how is that possible?" asked Hermione cutting him off. "They didn't transform during the full moon."
"It's because of the experiments... The Dark Lord wanted an army of werewolves who could shift at will like the Lycans of legends. The pack agreed to participate in the experiments as we were promised the ability to have children in exchange. We knew the Dark Lord had developed a potion that improved fertility in wizards- we were told that with a little testing and tweaking the same could be done for our kind."
Draco recalled how simple the solution had seemed back then. But Oskar had always insisted that werewolves were creatures of fate- Luna was the one who decided for them, not some dark wizard, even if he was immortal now.
"We lost many members to those early trials... Eventually, they realised they were unable to induce transformations. The nature of the experiments changed then. It became all about the next generation. They gave us strange treatments meant to change us in a way that although any children we have would be lycanthropes they would only come into their heritage at puberty- quite like part-Veelas. With the exception of Cora, who's trained as a Healer, the rest of us didn't really understand most of what was being done to us. In the end we assumed it was another failure like the rest of the experiments."
Finally done feeding Martin appeared to be falling asleep. Draco took him from Hermione's arms and handed her Wilbur. He walked around the room with his son balanced on his arm, gently patting his back to make him burp. Draco cherished these domestic moments with his little family- they made it so easy to forget about the world outside.
"So our sons are werewolves," said Hermione letting out a deep sigh. She looked weary as she leaned back in the chair. "This world, the way it is, you understand it isn't fit for our children, right?"
Draco stopped his pacing to face her and nodded once.
"We need to stop Vol-" Hermione stopped herself just before she could finish saying the taboo name. "We need to stop Riddle. And Harry's the only one who can do it."
"And you need to be at Harry's side."
He didn't mean to sound petty but it bothered him that she still put Saint Potter first, even if he understood her reasons for doing so.
"Well, yes," she said in a matter-of-fact voice, confused with his sudden change in demeanour.
Done with burping his son, Draco began to gently rock him to sleep.
"You want to leave," he said in a toneless voice.
"I want this war over. And I don't think that's going to happen by people sitting idly by and going about their lives like everything is normal." She closed her eyes and recited the words her parents used to say to her to explain why evil existed in the world. "Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing."
"He's not a man anymore, Hermione. He's an immortal. There's no point in killing him if he can just brings himself back."
"That is the lie he'd like everyone to believe," said Hermione with a vigorous shake of her head. "I heard you were there trying to protect Ravenclaw's Diadem before it was destroyed by the fiendfyre, can I assume it means you know what a horcrux is?"
Draco was tempted to forget years of etiquette lessons and utter a loud snort in response. Instead, he replied with a simple, "Yes."
"But do you know he only has a limited number of them? His tainted soul has been fractured to the extent he cannot create any new horcruxes."
Draco looked on in surprise.
"Based on the Order's collective research over the years, we have confirmed that there were just seven horcruxes made, of which four have already been successfully destroyed."
Draco was stunned. All this time they had dismissed the Order as being as good as dead while the Order had kept busy finding ways to get rid of the Dark Lord for good. It would make sense for the Dark Lord to react the way he did to news of the destruction of his diadem horcrux if he was unable to create any more horcruxes. Remembering the Dark Lord's reaction back then reminded Draco of the way his Dark Mark had burned a few hours ago.
"I suspect there may be some trouble headed our way. Earlier today my Dark Mark began to burn in a way that indicated he was mad. I have yet to find out what it was about, but this morning the Death Eaters in residence were heard grumbling about Potter being active again."
"What was it, what did they say?" asked Hermione eager for any news on Harry and the Order.
"I've shared with you what I know. As a rule in general it's never good news when he's angry over something Potter's done. I fear if Potter is really involved he may think of using you and Ginny to lash out at Potter. Here," he said, extending to her Albus Dumbledore's old wand. "You should keep it hidden on you. Not that they can get to you here, but it'll put my mind at ease knowing you're armed."
Wilbur looked like he was done feeding so Hermione moved him to rest against her shoulder. She took the wand from Draco and accioed one of the bed sheets which she transfigured into a wand holster for herself. With another wave of her new wand the holster adhered itself to her arm and yet another wave turned it invisible. She then holstered the wand and moved on to the task of burping her son.
"Thank you for the wand, but you know I can never really be safe here. I'm going to have to leave soon," she told him while pacing the room and patting her son on his back.
"I know. It's not like you chose to be here."
Hermione walked up to the bed and sat beside him.
"I didn't choose to be here, but I do choose to be with you," she said and rested her head against his shoulder.
It never ceased to amaze him how far these little gestures from her went towards calming him. Draco swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded in acknowledgement.
"Draco, do you still believe in the Pureblood cause?" She assumed he didn't. She trusted that the man she had fallen in love with was someone who had moved on from his old prejudices, but she still needed to ask. They needed to have a clear discussion on exactly where they stood and how far were they willing to go for their causes.
He shook his head, looked at Hermione and then at Wilbur drooling as he lay there draped over his mother's shoulder. "How could I when I see examples of just why it's wrong?" He pressed one soft kiss to his son's head and another to Hermione's. "We were wrong. I was wrong. I figured it out long ago, even before I was turned. I just... I don't know what to do, Hermione. Fenrir leads the pack, but he sides with the Dark Lord's cause. But, I can't abandon the pack as I'd most likely go mad and end up being a danger to you and the pups."
"You and the pups belong here, but my place is at Harry's side." Feeling Draco's body go rigid beside her she quickly added, "Just until Riddle falls and the war is won, my place is at Harry's side."
She looked at him. His face was blank and his mouth hardened into a tight line.
"The war won't be won with the fall of the Dark Lord. The Death Eaters control Great Britain- they may have failed elsewhere, but they have a stranglehold on this country. And with them, we wouldn't just be fighting people, we'd be battling ideologies. It won't be as simple as winning a physical war, defeating them will require years of civil war."
"Then we just keep fighting. As Professor Dumbledore often said, though evil can never be eradicated it can be kept at bay if we fight it again and again." She moved to lay Wilbur down to sleep on the bed, beside his brother, before turning around to face Draco. "It chills me to contemplate the long-term consequences of allowing this evil regime to continue unchecked. What kind of world will our sons inherit if the Death Eaters aren't stopped when they commit mass atrocities? Draco, we've both seen enough evidence these past few years to know their bloodlust won't be satisfied by getting rid of the Muggleborns... If our sons are truly werewolves, how long before some bigot goes from questioning their right to be a part of society to questioning their right to exist at all?"
"Granger," he snapped at her, "I'm not arguing against the idea of fighting Death Eaters. I'm arguing against being separated from you for as long as is needed to win this gods-damned-war."
She looked at him in wide-eyed surprise. She was sure he would need a lot more convincing. Before she could get over her shock he continued.
"You want to fight to change the world? Okay, but let's figure out a way to do it together, because I don't think I'll survive being away from you for too long."
Lost for words Hermione simply climbed into his lap and hugged him.
"Yours," she said affectionately, stroking the mark she had left on his shoulder as her claim on him.
"Yours," he replied, his chin resting on her head.
They stayed like that for some time enjoying the closeness knowing the time for them to separate was drawing near.
Hermione was the first to break the silence when she quietly said to him, "Some of the werewolves think we've already bonded. I think they're right." She chose to save all her questions regarding the different bonds she heard mentioned for Oskar as he was likely to provide her with better answers on the subject than Draco.
Draco thought about Hermione's declaration and acceded that, while he would need to bite her in his wolf form to turn her and have her fully bonded with him, she was correct about the existence of a bond between them. It had started with their very first coupling and had grown stronger over the months as their relationship progressed.
"I don't want to complete the bond till you return. If you're turned now you won't be able to leave. Werewolves are pack creatures; we go mad without a pack. As strong as you are mentally, even you would need time to adjust to living without a pack. It would make you extremely vulnerable to be that unstable while you're on the run."
She nodded not knowing what to say. She'd heard him talk about the pack and their way of living before but there was still so much she needed to learn and understand.
"I'm going to help you escape, but just you. I know you plan to take Ginny Weasley with you, but that witch is going to end up being a noose around your neck. In her current state she'll only be a liability."
Though Draco's words sounded cruel, she understood his intent, even if she didn't agree with him.
"I can't leave her behind. I don't know what'll happen to her if-"
"What'll happen to her? Nothing, for as long as she's here. We'll protect her- we've been tasked to protect her and her child. She's safe with us, but if you take her along she's bound to get both of you caught."
"I have a fix. There's something I've been thinking of doing that may help Ginny... I'm just-"
"Whatever it is you're thinking of doing, do it. Either fix her or leave her behind. I won't help you escape till I can be sure you'll safely make your way back to the Order. Speaking of the Order, I'm going to credit your side with having the basic sense to have relocated to an unknown location and changed all their existing plans and strategies when they got news of your capture?"
She nodded. "It is standard protocol."
"We guessed as much, which is why after a point the interrogations really became more about torturing the prisoners than trying to extract any useful information out of them."
He spoke of such a horrid thing in such a casual manner it reminded Hermione that not long ago he was on the other side. As sobering as the thought was it didn't cause her trust in him to waver.
"Do you have any secure means of re-establishing contact with the Order once you're out?"
She nodded once again.
"Good. You're going to be out there on your own, a fugitive, till you find or they take you to their new location. It's the part that leaves me feeling most apprehensive."
"I'll have the wand you gave me, Draco," she reminded him, snuggling against his chest knowing how much he liked it when she did.
"Yes. Yes, of course," he replied absentmindedly.
"Still, if it'll help put your mind at ease we can increase the duration of our training sessions."
"That would definitely help."
"Or, we can get someone to watch the boys so you can shag me senseless to make up for all the time we won't be together?" she said grinding her crotch against his.
"Witch!" he groaned in response, giving her hair a harsh tug as punishment for her teasing.
"Or maybe you don't have the patience for all that and are ready to simply bend me over that chair and take me till I'm shrieking your name."
"I'm going to bend you over the chair and spank you, you tease."
She laughed and halted her grinding to grab a hold of his face instead. She looked into his eyes and hoped he understood just how much she was going to miss him even if she didn't want to say the words for fear he wouldn't let her go.
Hermione tenderly traced the lines of his pale and pointy face with her hands and watched with fascination as his eyes fluttered shut when she ran her thumb along his lips. He really was beautiful and he was hers, she thought, pressing her lips to his.