Disclaimer: Seeing as I'm not watching my book sales hit record numbers, I think we can safely say that this isn't mine.

A/N: Another short chapter, but I'll make up for it, I promise. Please review!

Chapter Thirteen: All Hallow's Eve

Professor Dumbledore's voice cast magically through the entire school, causing every student to look up automatically. "Students, you will please go immediately to the nearest classroom or dormitory and lock yourselves in. Please do this calmly and efficiently."

It was, of course, absolute chaos. Students were being herded by equally confused professors into rooms dusty from long disuse, constantly unlocking doors to allow more frightened people into their confines.

Meanwhile, the wolf prowled. It slunk silently up the dungeon steps, keeping to the shadows, torchlight dancing briefly over his dark grey fur. Golden eyes gleamed, searching for prey, and it could hear the screams in the maelstrom of the upper levels. The full moon glowed seductively through the windows, and he knew that ordinary magic could not harm him. For the moment, he was invincible.

His claws clicked quietly as the floors changed to the smoother, cleaner stone of the more inhabited areas, his nose deciphering the stream of scents. There so many, hundreds, even thousands, but he sifted through until he found the freshest, the most interesting. Teeth gleamed in a lupine smile, tongue lolling out as he chased the thrill of the hunt, as he followed the fear.

With free reign of the castle, the wolf that was barely Remus stalked its unsuspecting prey.

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Hermione trotted after the graceful potions master, her wand out and at the ready as they patrolled the corridors, ushering students into rooms and putting extra wards on the doors. She was more than a little frightened of the man, his pale face contorted with fury and, she knew, fear. As much as he hated teaching idiots, he was keenly aware of his responsibility to the safety of the children in the school, and woe betide anyone other than himself threatening his students.

There was a fully grown, out of control werewolf loose in the school, and all she could do was follow after the man and thank god that Harry and Ron weren't here. Even without knowing it was Remus, they would probably have gone on some insane mission to stop it. Oh, they would have succeeded, she had no doubt, somehow the three of them always seemed to get out of their scrapes successful and more or less intact, but not with injuries and consequences. It was one less thing she had to worry about, her mind trying desperately to keep track of how many students they'd come across. It was important, more important that ever before, that every single one be accounted for, or at best there would be a new addition to the Hogwarts pack.

At worst, there would be a dead body, maybe more, if they couldn't find them all before Remus did.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as a hand touched lightly on her back, and she whirled around to find her wand against Ginny's cheek. "Gods, Ginny, you scared me half to death!" she whispered shrilly.

"Miss Weasley, the idea of a lock down is to stay where you are," Severus told her, his silky voice just short of a snarl.

"Poppy told me; she thinks Remus might recognize my scent, that it might calm the wolf down," she retorted calmly. Her face was pale, and suddenly Hermione hated the beautiful red hair she'd always reminded. Somehow, it made her feel like they wouldn't get out of this without blood being spilt. "Just be glad I'm not Harry or Ron, or I'd be going off half-cocked and clueless."

Severus snorted, and Hermione managed a weak half-smile. Strange that their thoughts should be so closely similar. Ginny winked at her, and she shook her head. Perhaps not so strange after all.

The youngest Weasley proved invaluable on their continuing search, finding students hiding in some of the most unlikely places. When she dragged a shaking Hufflepuff seventh year out of a niche behind a statue of Fentl the Flatulent, Severus became suspicious.

"How are you finding them?" he demanded.

"I sense them," she shrugged. "I know when people are around; look at who I grew up with."

Recalling the havoc her three youngest brothers were capable of creating on their most well-behaved days, he agreed and let it drop.

In the fourth floor corridor, she dropped to her knees beside a statue, running one small hand over the gouges deep in the base. "I think it's safe to say he's been this way," she announced dryly.

"Five galleons says that every Hufflepuff first year has wet themselves," Hermione muttered.

"I'm not taking that bet; you're probably right."

Ah, the wonders of gallows humor.

"Come on, this way," Ginny instructed, brushing off her knees and taking to her feet. "He's nearby."

Unquestioning, the other two followed her.

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Remus stalked towards the end of the corridor, his eyes on the unfortunate quartet pinned there by his fearsome gaze. Their fear washed over him in delicious waves, and he moved deliberately, gracefully, his paws falling slowly and steadily on the smooth stones. He passed the landing of the staircase without any thought, all of his attention focused on his frozen prey. He thrilled in the rabid beating of their hearts, the quick shallow breaths that rasped in their chests and throats. This was the hunt.

A sudden pain bloomed in his right side and he found himself thrown against the wall, whimpering as he came slowly back to his feet. He shook his head, and turned his gaze back towards his prey.

A lithe white wolf blocked his way, hackles raised and teeth bared in a ferocious snarl.

He growled at her; after all, he was male, he was alpha, but the female didn't move. Furious, he raced at her and she clawed him viciously, leaving tracks of blood seeping into his fur. He bit her savagely on the side and she whined momentarily before sending him crashing again to the wall.

The four students took advantage of this lapse in his attention to vanish behind the portrait they'd been trying to open, and he vented his rage in a hair-raising howl.

He took off through the halls, and the white wolf followed, attacking him any time he got too close to a student, giving the terrified children time to regroup and escape. Snarling, he flew at his opponent, jaws closing on tender flesh, claws ripping through skin and fur. Amber eyes glowing in the moonlight, she gave back as good as she got, tearing at him in the places he was most vulnerable, closing her teeth about his throat.

He froze; the wolf knew that this was not a good situation.

Releasing him, she backed several paces away and sat on her haunches, tongue lolling out with fatigue. He studied her, this unknown adversary. There was something familiar to her, something the wolf knew it should recognize, but the scalding pain of the potion flowing through its veins kept it from following this rational progression and he leapt at her again, the two tumbling down a staircase in a roiling mass of grey and white.

The wolf whined and tried to escape, but the potion held its fury, its pain, fully in place, and he couldn't think, couldn't run. He was an alpha male, a werewolf, with more strength than its lesser kindred; this was a battle he should have won easily. But she was a wolf protecting her cubs, two legged and furless though they may be. A growl sounded deep in the throat of the smaller creature, low and warning.

It was a warning he ignored.

He snarled again and rushed at her, digging his teeth into the bone at her shoulder. She howled, trying to dislodge him, but his size and strength was finally beginning to tell, to wear on her. He released her and batted her into a solid stone wall, hearing the crunch of bone. The white wolf whined, pulling itself pathetically to her feet, favoring her right foreleg. He'd allowed her to interfere for too long, the sunrise was approaching, and he had yet to capture suitable prey.

Advancing on her, his jaws grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and shook her hard, hurling her from him to crash into another wall. She heaved up, but fell, unable to rise to her feet. Whining deep in her throat, she gazed at him with amber brown eyes and laid her chin submissively on the floor, defeated.

He was not going to leave it at that, however. She had disobeyed an alpha.

He stepped forward, his own injuries screaming at him, and he stared down at her, teeth dripping blood as he howled in preparation for the kill

The spell caught him in his chest and sent him flying back into a wall of the same room in which he'd started. Somehow, she'd managed to herd him all the way back to the dungeons, attacking him every time he went a direction she didn't want to go. Snarling, he shot to his paws, but heavy chains wrapped themselves around him and attached to the wall, rendering him unable to move.

He struggled fiercely, but he heard another sound and suddenly the worst of the pain was gone. All he could feel was his injuries, the wolf dormant in the background. He whined and looked up.

Dumbledore, he recognized. Memories flooded back to him, images only half-captured in the throes of the demon's madness. His whining increased, and the old man held up a single hand. He fell silent, the man within the beast knowing this command.

"The students are safe, if a bit frightened," he told him gently. "The two students who opened the door to your cell have been caught and will be severely punished once they are over their scare. It is all right, Remus."

He looked towards the white wolf, her sides heaving in labored breath and whimpered. He knew it wasn't, couldn't be, an ordinary wolf, and he was almost overcome with how he'd hurt them. Outside the walls of the castle, the sun finally broke through the misty haze of dawn, and Remus writhed in his chains, the transformation only increasing the pain, the fear. In a matter of minutes, he was a man again, albeit a very naked one, still chained to the cold wall of the dungeon. He looked back at where the wolf had been, and there the wolf still was, and Dumbledore seemed as baffled as he.

"Albus," he rasped. "Who-"

Sounds from the outside corridor cut him off as Hermione and Severus raced into the room, out of breath and robes flying behind them. They took in Remus' condition with something akin to relief, despite the blood all over him; at least he was alive.

"Oh, thank God," Hermione managed, gasping for air. Her brown eyes traveled autmotically over the room, and she froze. "Oh, God," she whispered. "GINNY!"

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The world had stopped.

He knew with an absolute certainty that his heart was no longer beating, that single moment frozen as Hermione fell to her knees beside the dying wolf, eyes wide with terror. Her hands shaking, the young woman whipped out her wand and performed the spell to revert an Animagus back to its original form, and the white wolf slowly stretched and pulled back into a bleeding, pale redhead, her robes all but shredded like her skin.

"Miss Wea-" Severus couldn't even finish the sentence, seeing the truth undeniably before him. His apprentice looked up at him, tears streaking down her ashy face.

"Get Madam Pomfrey, sir, please!" she pleaded, but it had to be too late, there was just too much blood. "God dammit, GET POPPY HERE NOW!" she shrieked, and he hurried from the room to do just that.

Remus sank down in his chains, staring at the two girls, at Ginny struggling to stay conscious within the circle of Hermione's arms. He saw her lips move, murmuring something, and Hermione saw it, too, bending down closer to hear.

"What's that, Gin?"

"Think it was…the virgin's blood…" she struggled to say.

"What?"

"Virgin's blood," she repeated weakly. "It…the werewolf…too much pain."

Hermione couldn't believe it. Ginny was so close to death, her lifeblood pumping out of her at an alarming rate, and she was trying to figure out why the potion didn't work. But then, she understood. It was something she did herself when she was scared, escaped into academia and solvable problems. She choked on a laugh and performed a strength spell, trying to keep her best friend from fading. "Hang in there," she breathed. "Just hang in there, Gin."

"Tom…"

"What about Tom?"

"Can hear…hear Tom…he's laughing at me…" What little color there was left Ginny's skin as she choked on the blood gurgling in her throat. "My hands are cold…"

"Your hands are always cold, Gin," Hermioen retorted, smiling slightly through the tears blurring her eyes. "Madam Pomfrey will be here soon. Just hang on."

"Tom's laughing…"

"Tom's dead!" Hermione cried, shoulders shaking with the sobs she was fighting back. "Come on, Ginny! You can't just give up!"

"Remus…"

"Will be fine," the older girl answered, glancing over at the uncomprehending werewolf. "He's injured, but he'll be okay. You have to hold on, Ginny, so you can be with him."

"…doesn't want…"

"That's not true!"

Sound. It was all just sound, flowing through Remus' ears as he struggled vainly to understand. Ginny was dying. He'd killed Ginny. He'd killed his mate, had killed pack.

Footsteps landed heavily in the corridor and Poppy and Severus flew in, Poppy going white when she saw the state of the occupants.

Remus stared at the blood seeping slowly into the mortar between the stones as they levitated the now unconscious young woman onto a conjured stretcher. A large black shadow knelt beside him, and the potions master's rich voice forced through into his awareness.

"Lupin, you must drink this," he urged, pressing a vial against the werewolf's lips.

He drank. Please God let it be poison, he prayed as the world sank into darkness.