Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter's world. That is the property of JKR, a most talented woman. So, don't sue me.
Plot: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are normal talented wizards who, on their 16th birthdays, learn otherwise. They are now burdened with family secrets that no one can ever know. They return to Hogwarts and struggle to get their lives back on track. However, both vows to find out one another's secret when they notice something different about each other.
A/N: Ha! I updated finally. I just wanted to say that my semester at school is coming to a close. I'm leaving school next week, Friday the 13th. I'm planning on writing more chapters before then. Don't worry, I'll update the story. I have to finish before the sixth HP book comes out, remember?
BloodJewel: You're pretty smart, picking up on that little detail. Why they couldn't smell her has a place in the story and will be pivotal in the discovery. Now, I'll have to stop and leave you in suspense so the people can get to the story.
The Moon's Call
Chapter Eight
It was Tuesday. A week had passed since her confrontation with Malfoy.
They were in Potions class. She managed to snag Harry for a partner, ignoring Ron's tapping on her shoulder.
She forced her gaze down to her potion, away from Malfoy and Zabini.
Hermione sighed. Why were they fixated on her all of a sudden? Why did her gut tell her there was something different about them? It didn't make any sense, but still, there was no way they could know her secret.
Her back tensed instinctively. They were looking at her again. God, she wanted to move to the other side of Harry and hide behind him, but she would not allow herself to be intimidated.
She stared at Ron at the table in front of her and Harry. This was all his fault. Hermione just had Harry convinced not to make trouble when he came running up, going on about Slytherins and young Gryffindors. If he hadn't talked over her about stopping Malfoy and Zabini from cursing those fourth years, she wouldn't be in this mess.
They wouldn't have asked that question. She wouldn't have been embarrassed by Ron's good intentions of keeping her safe. She just wanted to go back to her room and sleep. The fumes clouding the classroom were not helping either. The odor of the room was near unbearable, but after five minutes, her nose went blessedly numb.
A black shadow walked up at the corner of her eye.
"What do you call this, Mr. Potter?" a sneering voice said.
They both looked up. Professor Snape was looking at them both like they were ants. Hermione tipped her chin up, and forced herself not to answer Snape's question for Harry. The bastard would take points off for it.
Snape's black onyx eyes flicked towards her, as if daring her to say something. When she didn't, they went back to Harry.
"The Veritaserum potion, sir." Harry's hands fisted by his sides.
She could smell the hate coming from him and tried not to cough. It was similar to anger, but whereas anger had a hot, spicy scent, hate was even more intense.
"I was talking about your total disregard for classroom behavior. You are being disruptive to the class. Five points off," declared Snape.
That was a load of bullshit. It wasn't fair. She bit her tongue to keep from saying anything. She had respected the man at the beginning, but it was running out, as was her patience.
"Do you have something in your throat, Miss Granger? You're growling," said Snape.
Hermione covered by clearing her throat forcefully. "It must be from the fumes, Professor."
He lifted an oily black eyebrow and swooped away. She ached to sink her teeth in him, to rip him apart, to taste his blood—STOP IT!
She shook her head. Her instincts were awakening, just as her mother had said. Her need to mark her territory—and protect it—was increasing.
"You must control yourself even more rigidly than you ever have, darling. The first six months will be the hardest."
"Hermione, are you okay?" asked Harry in a hushed voice. "For a second there, I thought you were going to jump on him."
"Yeah, I'm fine, Harry. It's just these fumes. I didn't think Veritaserum was this noxious."
Then Snape called out, "It is nearly time to go. Please bottle a sample of your potions and leave it on my desk. You may begin cleaning up, and then you may go."
Hermione deftly bottled a sample of their Veritaserum and walked up to Snape's desk. She left it and turned around into something black. Hermione looked up into Blaise Zabini's smirking face. She breathed in, distinctly smelling pine and sunshine…and the musky scent of earth.
"Hello, Granger. Fancy meeting you here," he said, licking his lips.
She scoffed. "Whatever."
Edging around him, she caught him taking a sniff of her hair when he rubbed against her shoulder. She stared at him, scandalized. Did he just do what she thought he did?
He must have caught the look on her face. He slapped on a scowl. He sneered, "What?"
Hermione shook her head and hurriedly walked back to Harry. Their table was thankfully clean. She grabbed her bag and walked out, leaving Harry and Ron behind. They called after her, but she kept going.
Just outside of Arithmancy, Harry caught up to her. He put a hand on her shoulder and she whirled around, ready to attack. When she saw it was him, Hermione lost some of the tension in her body.
"Harry…I'm so sorry. I just, uh, had a lot on my mind." Even to her ears, the lie was lame, but what could she do? Tell him that she was a werewolf and Blaise Zabini just gave her an open invitation to mate?
Her mother had sort of explained werewolf mating. It was embarrassing and Hermione didn't want to repeat that again.
"When two wolves are going to mate, they rub against each other. This is to…sort of mark their territory. If a female is unmated, a male can rub against her as an invitation. Whether or not she accepts is entirely up to her. The situation can also be reversed. Now, this rubbing can occur when they are either human or wolf. This comes instinctively to us. When the, uh, act…begins, then the, uh, males bite the females on the neck to further mark their territory. This bite can happen in either forms as well…"
Her face was burning. The whole explanation was awkward.
"I saw Zabini get behind you. Did he do something to offend you?" Harry asked.
She saw the concern and worry in his eyes. It made her feel warm and happy to know that someone genuinely cared about her.
"He, uh, just suggested something that I don't care to repeat to you," she said finally. "But don't worry, Harry. I can take care of myself against him."
Harry didn't say anything. The silence thickened as he studied her face. "Fine, but next time, don't just walk out and leave me and Ron thinking the worst, okay?"
She smiled. "Yeah, okay."
"By the way, you and Ron…" Harry trailed off. "How did that happen?"
She groaned. "Don't remind me. I wasn't going to ask him that question, but he just took control of the situation and I didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. Besides, you probably remember the exact time of what day that happened."
His face colored slightly and he visibly swallowed. "Time? I don't know what you're talking about."
"You know, Harry, and it's okay. I just hope you're grateful that I had to sacrifice my dignity for a few minutes."
His face was red now. He coughed. "Look, if you don't want to be with Ron, that's fine, but tell him before he gets carried away."
She shrugged and went into Arithmancy, leaving Harry outside to go to his next class.
When Malfoy stormed into the classroom, Hermione nearly fainted. How could she forget that he was in this class?
Her eyes avoided his clearly angry face and she paid close attention to the professor, but she could smell his anger. It was by far, the most overpowering thing she had ever scented, surpassing Snape's classroom.
By the time class was over, she had written more notes than she usually did. She stuffed them in her bag and hurriedly left, wanting to avoid Malfoy.
She went straight to Gryffindor Tower. In her room, Hermione decided not to go to dinner. To see either Malfoy or Zabini was too much for her.
Zabini…his eyes were a beautiful ocean blue, and his hair was like raven's wings, all black and glossy. How would it feel to run her fingers through his hair?
"SNAP OUT OF IT, HERMIONE!" she yelled at herself.
God, what the hell was wrong with her? Actually, she knew what was wrong with her. It was her hormones picking up on Zabini's action. She seriously doubted he was a werewolf. He was just a human. He probably rubbed against her to shake her up.
"It's working," she sighed. Hermione wanted to feel Zabini's arms around her. She knew it and couldn't do anything to stop the fantasies that were heating her blood.
"He's not a wolf. He's not a wolf. He doesn't know what that meant. He's not a wolf." Hermione wanted to forget this day ever happened. She drew the bed curtains close and laid down. "Just control yourself, Hermione, and it will be okay."
Sleep tugged at her. It was the waning of the moon. The third quarter had happened two days ago. Her father had explained that her energy cycles would now follow the moon's phases. When the moon grows full, her energy comes back, but when it goes away, so does her energy.
Her body, unused to her new cycles, was slowly accommodating. It would take up to a year to get used to it.
Zabini's face made one last appearance before sleep took her.
It was hours before a hand shook her awake, away from her dreams of running happily through a forest.
"Hermione? Why didn't you go to dinner?" a girl asked. It had to be a girl. Boys couldn't go into the girls' dormitory.
She breathed in. She could smell roasted meat and sweets immediately. Hermione rooted past that and smelled the female underneath. That familiar scent of apples and cinnamon made her smile.
Ginny.
Her eyes opened. She started to say she wasn't hungry, but her stomach interrupted her. She laughed and covered with, "Well, I wasn't hungry then. I guess I am now." She sat up. "What time is it?"
"Ten thirty."
"I'm going to the kitchens before curfew. Parkinson and Devon are patrolling tonight. I don't feel like being stopped by her." Hermione swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Want to come?"
"Sure, why not?" Ginny shrugged.
They went down the stairs and passed through the common room. She smiled at several of her peers. Then Ron stopped her and asked where she was going. Then he told her he wanted her to stay in, but she said she was her own person who could do what she liked. With that, she and Ginny left.
"Wow. I never thought Ron would ever talk to you like that," Ginny said quietly. "I'm sorry, Hermione."
"It's all right. I guess your brother and I don't really suit one another."
"No," Ginny sighed. "You don't. I didn't think you did. Actually, I probably shouldn't say this, but I always thought Ron would get together with Lavender. He's my brother and all, but she's more his level."
"And who did you have in mind for me?" she teased.
"You'll get mad if I tell," said Ginny smiling.
"Who?" Now her interest was really piqued. "Come on, tell me."
"You'll have to catch me first!" Ginny took off down the corridor laughing.
Hermione grinned. She raced after Ginny and let her have a little bit of a lead. The thrill of the chase was exhilarating. Her spirits were high and she laughed. Then she closed the gap between them and caught her friend.
"Okay," she said. "You have to tell me."
Ginny panted. "No fair! You must be working out. You aren't even breathing hard."
Hermione took a moment to notice. No, she wasn't breathing hard, but her heart was racing. She fibbed, "Breathing exercises. Now, tell me."
Ginny looked around to make sure they were alone. She leaned close and breathed, "Malfoy."
"You're not serious, Gin," she gasped.
"I am. You have a lot in common, actually." Ginny started walking and Hermione followed her. She counted off her fingers. "One, you're both way smart. Two, you both read and that's why you're both smart. Three, you both get stuck up. Four, you're devious, which comes from being smart. Five, you have some connection that a lot of people have noticed. Six, you both are oblivious to this connection. Seven, you don't see what you don't want to see. Eight, the same goes for hearing. Nine, you're stubborn. Ten, you're aggressive. Eleven, you're get mad very easily. Twelve, you—do I have to go on?"
Hermione could only stare. Ginny had clearly put a lot of time and effort in her reasons. That was the only way she could explain the ease with which she had said her reasons.
"No, that's quite enough, thank you," said Hermione quietly. What does one say after something like that?
'Okay, the next time I see him, I'll kiss him.' Ha, not likely.
They turned the corner and saw the fruit portrait. They tickled the pear and gained entrance. Hermione ordered a two steaks cooked rare and some ribs with mashed potatoes, as well as eggs, sausage and ham. Ginny watched wide-eyed as she ate it all.
"I've never seen you eat that much, Hermione." A cloud of concern settled on Ginny's face. "You're not pregnant, are you?"
Hermione choked on her butterbeer. "NO! What on earth would make you think that?"
"You just ate a meal that only Charlie would eat. Believe me, he eats a lot."
"I'm just really hungry, Gin. Don't worry about it." Hermione made a mental note of not eating so much around other people. She distracted her. "So, what's going on with you and Harry?"
Ginny turned as red as her hair. "N-nothing. Why?"
"Okay, fine, don't tell me," Hermione said. Ginny didn't say anything. Hermione sighed. "Let's head back to the Tower, Ginny."
They left the kitchens without a word. On the way back, Hermione heard Parkinson and Devon coming down the corridor towards them. Parkinson was whining about some Ravenclaw.
It was only then that she realized it was after curfew. Parkinson would not hesitate to take points off Gryffindor. She quickly scanned their surroundings and spotted a tapestry. If memory served correctly, there was room large enough to hide three people.
She tugged Ginny to it and put a finger to her lips. Parkinson and Devon were close. They ducked behind it and waited for the Slytherins to walk by.
They heard Devon ask, "What's up with Malfoy and Zabini?"
"Oh, I know," Parkinson said. "It's, like, now they're best friends or something. It's so weird. They weren't even on speaking terms last year. Maybe they're planning something against the other Houses."
"Maybe. Hey, you don't think they're…you know."
Hermione heard the question in Devon's voice.
"No! How dare you say that about them!" Parkinson all but shrieked. "They aren't gay. I know gay men."
"I think they're planning to establish some sort of partnership. NOT gay wise, but businesslike. I mean they're both high up there in Slytherin. I wouldn't put it passed them to overthrow Pucey and his associates."
"You may be onto something, Devon. Why else would they form an alliance?" Parkinson's voice faded as the Slytherins moved away.
Hermione peeked out and didn't see anyone in the corridor. She came out, followed closely by Ginny.
"Do you really think there's going to be a power shift in Slytherin?" asked Ginny.
Hermione shrugged. "You know, I was wondering why Malfoy and Z-Zabini," she stumbled over his name, "are so buddy-buddy now."
"Who knows," said Ginny.
"Come one, let's get moving before they beat us to the stairs if they're heading that way." Hermione led the way, her mind preoccupied with ignoring thoughts of Zabini.
Damn hormones.
With her hunger and thirst satisfied, her body was now gripped with a different hunger. She was a virgin, but feelings low in her belly made her ache with want. She didn't want to have sex, but all she could think of was Zabini's scent.
She shook her head and sighed. A run would help clear her head, help her focus on the more important things, such as school.
"I'm sorry, Ginny, but that dinner gave me a lot energy. I'm gonna walk around for a while.""
"Do you want company?" Hermione shook her head just as Ginny yawned. Ginny laughed softly. "Sorry. I guess some other time. Be careful."
"I will be." Hermione left Ginny at the Fat Lady's portrait and made her way to the lake. She took a moment to get her bearings and walked into the Forbidden Forest. Some distance in, she listened for anything that might disturb her. When nothing caught her attention, Hermione shed her clothes and concentrated on changing.
She kept herself loose and relaxed. The pain lasted but a moment as she changed, and then she was wolf. Hermione sniffed around and her tail rubbed the base of a tree where her clothes were hidden. Once she marked the tree, she raced off into the forest without a backwards glance.
Whaddya think? Good? Bad? Questions still not answered? Tell me what y'all think. Love ya!
--TG