A/N: Well, here it is. Chapter 3. Sorry about the wait. Thanks to my beta-reader, HPFanFicLuvr, and to the following:

Neoma: Thank you. Although the end might take a while coming.

Carrot Glace1: Thank you!

LythTaeraneth: Thank you ever so much. It may have been a bit short, I don't really know.

I-Love-Moony: Thanks! I will.

The young cub was, even though she was a bloodthirsty monster, still the patient, obedient girl he knew. She had kept with him most of the time, and when she had tried to run away, he had taken her in his mouth. She was still small enough for that.

He felt that this rivalled the full moons he had spent with his other friends exploring the forest. The wolf-child had proven again and again that she was excellent company, and she was so even in wolf form. The two forms weren't that different, actually. As a child, Anastasia was unusually quiet and patient for a child, and, although she was less patient and quiet n wolf form, she was more so than his other wolf friend had been.

The full moon sank slowly and Anastasia found herself human once again. It had been one if the best full moons ever. Padfoot was so kind and gentle with her. He must have had experience with another werewolf, because he knew exactly what to do in most situations.

She tried to stand up, but a paw held her down.

Cubs need their sleep, Padfoot told her gently.

'M not tired, she replied, and yawned. Padfoot gave his doggy grin.

Anastasia tried to make herself as small as possible. She didn't know how this man knew Padfoot, but she was scared of him. He had joined them last night, and he knew who Padfoot was. She thought she had heard him talking to someone during the night, but it must have been her imagination. His wooden leg and extremely odd eye unnerved her.

"I'll give you a ride diagonally," the strange man said. Anastasia blinked. How could you give someone a ride diagonally?

Padfoot barked.

"This girl with you?" the man asked, and Padfoot nodded in affirmative. That settled it. Padfoot was a lot smarter than any other dog she had met. Anastasia was used to strange things happening. After all, being bitten by a werewolf wasn't something that happened to the average school child, so in her mind, a human dog was nothing extraordinary. She knew it would be to most people, but she knew and accepted that stranger things could happen. Like a man with a rotating eye, for example.

"OK, girlie. Grip onto me," he said, and she did so, while he scooped up Padfoot.

I hate apparating like this, Padfoot sent. She had no idea what he meant. Apparating? She didn't have time to ask Padfoot before they stood in a strange place full of very strange people.

"Well, here we are," the man grunted. "Diagon Alley."

Aha, He hadn't said, "I'll give you a ride diagonally," he had said "I'll give you a ride to Diagon Alley."

She smiled her thanks. Had Anastasia grown up in the Wizarding world, she would probably have said "Merlin's beard" or something similar. As she was neither from the wizarding world, nor could she speak, all she could do was stare around in wonder. The many scents nearly overwhelmed her, but they were all so very interesting. Many of them were unlike anything she had seen or heard about before. She even thought she could since a few other wolves in the crowd, but she couldn't be sure.

Padfoot took obvious delight in her wonder as she gazed from Quidditch Quality Supplies to Eyelope's Owl Emporium. He yapped excitedly.

Wonderful, isn't it, cub? He sent. You could sit here the entire day just analysing scents. He paused for a moment. Well, you probably could I never had the patience.

She smiled a bit. It was true she could just analyse scents in this place for hours on end. It really was a shame she couldn't go to the place when she was in wolf form, he scent sense was much higher at those times.

Anastasia wanted to stay longer at Diagon Alley, but Padfoot sent they must get going. He was in a hurry to get somewhere, Anastasia didn't know why. She felt oddly at peace among the strange people in pointed hats. Wizards, she decided. Witches and wizards. They were the only group of people who wore that kind of pointed hat. Anastasia knew she was a witch, after all, she made things happen, but she had never though of a whole community of witches before. The idea baffled her and she felt very small and very insecure. Who knew what magic could do?

We must go, Padfoot pressed. Anastasia merely nodded and followed Padfoot out.

London was amazing. For someone who had grown up in a small town next to a forest, it was overwhelming to stand there in the middle of all the shops.

Padfoot, what if I get lost? She sent.

You worry too much, wolf-child, he replied, but she thought he sounded a bit worried. Just stay close, okay?

She nodded.

It was easier to get by in London. There were many shops to shoplift from, and with so many people around, nobody looked twice at neither Anastasia nor Padfoot. Still, Anastasia longed for the wilderness and quietness of the woods. She was a wolf, after all, and wolves belonged in forests. She found it easier to sleep under a tree than on a bench. Her sharpened senses were quite disoriented with so many scents around, but they weren't interesting scents, as they had been in Diagon Alley, and more than once did she almost lose Padfoot. The smoke and unclean air tickled her sensitive nose, and she found it extremely unpleasant. Now she was glad she didn't have to stay in London in wolf form. If her human nose had problems handling the scents, her wolf nose would nearly kill her.

She didn't know where Padfoot was heading, but each day he took her further into central London. She didn't complain. She figured it would soon be over, and then they could go back to living in the wilder land. Anastasia decided that she did not and would not like cities. Ever. She hoped the place they were going wasn't in a city. They passed huge shops, like British Home stores, and small shops, named things like "Anna's Boutique". They walked through wealthy neighbourhoods and slum neighbourhoods. All the time they were surrounded by people and scents. Anastasia soon grew used to all the scents, but what she couldn't get used to was the pollution, and the smell from various places. She hated every day in the city, especially since Padfoot was forced to leave. He hadn't wanted to go, she knew that. A man with black, greasy hair and a hooked nose had taken him. Padfoot had tried to get out of his grip, but he hadn't bee able to. Anastasia had wanted to help, but Padfoot told her not to.

Go to Hogwarts, had been his last words. Hogwarts. The name attached itself to Anastasia brain. She had no idea where it was. Padfoot had walked northwards, so she would too. Perhaps she would find someone who knew where it was. If it was such a big castle as Padfoot had said it was, it must be rather well known.

She walked along the bustling crowds. Her eyes stung and she was jostled here and there. Nobody took any notice of her. She went to sleep behind a supermarket. A few days slipped by in a similar fashion. Her sense told her which way was north, and she tried to keep as steady a route as possible. Padfoot was constantly on her thoughts. What he was doing, where he was. Maybe he would be at Hogwarts when she arrived. Maybe he'd be yapping in his excited manner and welcome her with open arms. Maybe he'd give her a home there, with all the people who didn't mind wolves.

Summer was slowly fading into autumn, and she was nowhere near the end of London. She had never thought it could be so big! She sat down miserably in an alleyway and curled up to sleep.

She was awoken by a gentle shake.

Padfoot? She sent, only to be greeted by silence. She looked around. A boy stood leaned against a wall nearby.

"Wotcher, squirt. I fought yer'd never wake up. Been waitin' for 'ours, like," he said kindly. "Are yer lost?"

Anastasia shook her head. She knew where she was going, and she thought she knew how to get there. That she didn't know exactly where she was didn't matter.

"Where do yer live then, squirt?"

Anastasia shrugged to show she lived nowhere.

"Live on the chuffin' streets like the bloody rest of us, ffen?"

She smiled a bit and nodded.

"Woss the matter, isit? Don't yer like ter speak?"

Anastasia was dumbstruck. How could she explain that she couldn't speak at all? Luckily he seemed to be able to interpret her lack of reaction.

"Yer can't speak, right, can yer?"

She shook her head, and he whistled softly.

"Holy shit. That's 'arsh. How ole are yer, right?"

She held up eight fingers. He whistled again.

"Like me sister. She's in foster care," he chatted, and continued; "I'm sixteen. Old, ain't I, then, eh, squirt? They wrote me off as an 'opeless case. Bit depressin', ain't it? An 'opeless case at fifteen. Not that I mind. I guess they're right."

Anastasia didn't know what to do. She was unfamiliar with this kind of situation and wished Padfoot was there to help.

"I'm bloody well sorry. Where are me manners, then, guv? I 'aven't introduced meself. Me name's Jack."

He stretched out his hand and she shook it. She decided she liked Jack a lot.

"Do yer mind if I call yer Squirt?"

She shook her head.

"Eh up, Squirt, Do yer know about gangs. Yer know, right, wen blokes decide ter protect each uvver against the bobbies?"

I'm not stupid, she sent, but she knew he hadn't intercepted it.

He must have seen the look on her face, though, because he hurried on; "O'course yer do. Well, right, any road, I'm the bloomin' leader of this gang, and if yer wanted I could take yer in, right? Like, right, an adopted bovver. Would yer like that, Squirt?"

He held out his hand. She took it.