"Shift again," Fred demanded, glaring at Paul. He wasn't angry at Paul, he was just angry at the fact he couldn't work out a solution.

"I've already shifted fourteen times," Paul said, "what more do you want from me?"

"Another shift!" Fred snapped. Paul growled, but refrained from arguing, as he shifted back into his wolf form.

"We need to take a break," George moaned, dropping his head onto Fred's shoulder.

"I agree," Hermione piped up. The witch was lying on the porch, on her back, with a large tome regarding Animagus: The Ins and Outs, resting on her stomach and raised legs. "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry nowadays," Fred complained. "It's like you have a pocket to hide all the extra weight you should be putting on.

"Where on earth would I put a pocket for excess fat, Fred?" she asked dryly.

"I don't know, otherwise I'd point it out," he snarked. "You're brilliant at undetectable extension charms, for all I know it could be disappearing into your locket."

"I don't have a locket," she countered, though her tone suggested she was distracted. It was a tone that Paul and the Twins were used to hearing, especially when she had her nose in a book.

"I'm going to get you one," Fred promised. "When you shifted, it'd look like a dog collar."

Hermione snapped her book shut and sat up abruptly. "Could that work?"

"Getting you a dog collar?" George asked, brow furrowed. "You do know who you're talking to, right love?"

"No, not the dog collar," she snapped. "Well, not completely." She placed the book on the porch and wandered closer to the Twins. "I've been reading about animagus' and the process of becoming one. It's so much more than meditating and sucking on a leaf for months. There are a few spells that have dozens of spells entwined amongst each other. So if we-"

"-isolate the particular spell used to transport the clothes with the human body then we can use it on you lot," George finished.

"No," Hermione argued. "The spell only works each time because of the magic used to do the rest of the transformation. Peter Pettigrew needed a wand to transform into a rat and his clothes didn't go with him."

"His magic wasn't powerful enough to take them with him and the Pack don't have magic," Fred added.

"Right. But once we isolated the spell, we could tweak it to be more of a magnet for the clothes during a shift."

"You'd need an anchoring point," George mused. "One that could be with you during wolf hours and human hours."

Fred's eyes lit up. "Dog collar!"

"Dog collar," Hermione agreed. "That way we wouldn't need to lace the spell into every item of clothing, expand the inside of the anchor so it can store the clothes no problem."

"Then you've got your very own portable suitcase," George concluded.

Hermione nodded, satisfied with their theory and conclusion, and the whole Pack watched as the tension seemed to bleed out of her and she was a relaxed blob on the porch. Paul's internal wolf howled with happiness.

"Could that work for Remus?" Paul asked, pulling his shorts up.

"No," George answered. "His form doesn't come from within like yours. He bones in his body literally break and reshape themselves. It isn't like the shift that you experience at all."

"That must be painful," Embry commented, wincing at the thought. The shifter had been hanging around Hermione and Paul a lot more since it had come to light that she'd been doing the testing.

"It is," Hermione agreed. "I've seen it and it isn't a pretty sight."

"You've seen it?" Embry asked. "Wouldn't that be extremely dangerous."

"Erm…" Hermione trailed off, knowing that mentioning her and danger was a trigger for Paul. Luckily he already knew this particular tale. "It was quite dangerous, and stupid, and terrifying. But I survived and I didn't turn into a wolf then so I'm all good!" Paul rolled his eyes at her before taking a seat next to her and pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Can we eat now?" he asked.

The ringing of a phone startled everyone. Vampires, wizards and Pack.

"Whose is that?" Jasper asked, his head tilted as he tried to recognise the tune. It couldn't have been one of the Cullen's because he knew all of those. "Is it yours?" he asked the Twins.

"We don't have them," the replied. "Magic interferes."

"Oh God," Paul moaned before heading upstairs to check his stuff. Sure enough, it was his phone ringing. "Oh shit!"

"What?" Hermione asked, apparating to his side. Her eyes flashed to the screen before she cursed. "Fuck. What are we going to do?"

"We have to answer it!"

"Do we? If we leave it, he'll give up."

"He's your uncle, Hermione, he's stubborn."

"I know that, dammit," she snapped. "Why is he ringing your mobile though?"

"To speak to us?"

"Obviously," she drawled, channeling her old Potions Master. "But we should be in England, he'd believe we'd be there and so he'd ring-"

"The house phone," Paul finished.

"Which means he's already tried that, and probably had someone check in on us."

"He wouldn't do that, would he?"

"He's just been told his daughter is ill and he's not allowed to visit. Yes, he would do that."

"Oh God, he knows we're not there."

"We have to answer it," Hermione sighed.

"No, you said he'll give up."

"And you said he was stubborn."

The ringing ended as they bickered and their fight paused, as they both held their breath and looked at the now black screen. Ten seconds passed by before it started ringing again.

"Shit." Hermione flapped her hand at her imprint. "Answer it then."

Paul glared at her before taking a deep breath and answering.

"Hello?" he greeted drowsily. Time zone, of course. Hermione had completely forgotten! Her imprint was so smart.

"Quit the act, Lahote," her Uncle said coolly. "Put my niece on."

"Chief, it's late. You want me to wake her up? Don't you know what time it is?"

"In fact, I do know what time it is. Do you?"

Paul stuttered, an awkward, "Errr," sound escaping his mouth.

"Thought as much," Charlie said smugly. "Put her on."

Paul held his phone to her silently and pouting.

"Hey Uncle Charlie," she greeted happily. "Oh it's lovely to hear your voice."

"You haven't been answering my calls or emails. Your house has been unlived in for months. You are not in England. Bella isn't ill, she's dying or going through a vampiric change and you're over there with her. Your boyfriend and his wolf buddies are over there as well. Tell me when I'm wrong."

"Uncle Charlie-"

"No, don't," he cut her off. "I've known about your magic for years. I was one of the first people to find out. We used to read your books and you'd tell me everything. I think I'm capable of noticing a vampire in my town."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Bella loves him. As much as I hate my little girl growing up, and probably never growing again, she was in love and they were animal eaters. It gave me a sense of security."

"Uncle Charlie, I will come and explain everything to you. You'll see Bella when she's changed but for now, you have to trust me when I tell you that there is more to this than you're picturing and I can't leave right now."

"It's to do with my baby girl though, isn't it?" he asked after a short pause.

"Yes," Hermione admitted. "And that's all I'm saying on the matter. Trust me."

"I do," he said. "The moment everything is cleared up, you are to come round."

"I promise. I love you Uncle Charlie."

"I love you too."

"What if none of the Pack matches?" Jacob asked as he lay next to Hermione, the pair of them staring up at the stars like they used to do when they were younger.

"Then I'll know that my Mum was faithful and feel like a shit for thinking the worst of her."

"But it's entirely possible, you know that right?" Hermione nodded. "You come from the Swan line, which has been part of Forks since as long as I can remember."

"Which isn't very long considering you aren't even twenty yet."

"Okay, but when I hear the stories of the 'good old days' or look back at old photos or family trees, Swans are everywhere. It could just be your magic that gave you the edge over Bella."

"I know, Jacob."

"Your Dad could also be part of a different Pack. We don't know how many are out there, and let's be honest, the fact that you learnt about us at school and through text books indicate that they aren't always handsome lads and lasses like us."

"I know, Jacob."

"You could also-"

"I know!" Hermione snapped. "I've thought of all these possibilities, truly, I have. But every year as a kid, I was brought here. I didn't have to come to Forks every summer holiday, just to see Uncle Charlie. He was willing to come see us. And haven't you found it weird that I was told the legends and stories when I was younger? Even Uncle Charlie was told them once I was there, not before. Bella was only told once she was alerted to the Pack, not before."

"My Dad made sure that you were at the bonfire for the legends," he mused. "You think he knew?"

"Why else would he teach me about the history of your people? Outsiders aren't let in like that."

"Oh my God," he whispered, reaching blindly for her hand until it was held tightly in his grip. "How long have you had that figured out?"

"The moment I wondered why I shifted and suspected my mum cheated. I want it to be something else, but it has to be that. A distant relation wouldn't let me in like that. Not at all."

"Oh, Hermione."

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