UPDATED: Basically, I just fixed the spelling and grammatical errors in this chapter.

If you ever want to see the pup alive again, you'll bring her to me.

The note had been short and to the point; no room left for argument because they all knew Greyback would hold true to his word. If Hermione didn't give herself up to the psychotic werewolf, Caleb would be killed.

Hermione felt like she was listening to the ensuing argument from the bottom of the Black Lake. She knew Harry and Ron were arguing, that much was obvious by the way their arms were flailing about the place as they glared at each other and then at David who had steered Hermione over to her sofa and had sat her down on his lap.

Lavender just sat across from the two of them quietly, her worried gaze settled on Hermione as she drowned out the argument her mate was having with his best friend. Hermione was pale, almost translucent, and the medi-witch in her wanted nothing more than to heal her. But Lavender knew there was no healing this; there were no cures for fear.

Hermione would occasionally feel David's chest rumble with a growl, particularly when Harry narrowed his eyes at where David's hand was rested on her waist. Hermione knew it meant nothing; it was only there to offer her comfort after all. It worked too, she did feel comforted by the familiar weight and heat of it resting against her body. Whilst they all ran pretty high temperatures, David seemed to be a walking furnace amongst their pack. When the full moon fell on a particularly cold night, their pack would huddle around their Alpha to conserve warmth.

David didn't try to give her comforting words, he knew they wouldn't work anyway so he simply sat her against him, allowing her to take in the scent of pack. He was her Alpha, and she knew he would do everything in his power to try and keep her safe. David would lay down his life for anyone in the pack and so would the other members, Hermione herself included. They were family, and families protected one another.

She looked up in time to see Harry looking at her as Ron continued to rant. His expressive green eyes told her how scared he was, not for himself but for her. Greyback wanted her. Greyback; the deadliest, most feral werewolf in the world. The werewolf who haunted her nightmares whenever Bellatrix didn't make an appearance.

She felt sick.

Hermione flew from David's lap and rushed from her living room. She barely managed to reach her ensuite bathroom before she threw up what little she had managed to eat yesterday. Hermione felt someone pull her curls back from her face and another hand rub gentle circles into her back as she continued to dry retch.

When the nausea finally subsided, her throat and chest were sore and she could smell the salty tears that burned their way down her pallid cheeks. Ten years she had been free from the drama of the wizarding world and now she was being dragged back into it. If that wasn't bad enough, her pack was being dragged into it with her.

"Are you okay?"

Harry's voice broke through the silence and Hermione lifted a shaky hand to her mouth to wipe the remnants of bile from her lips. She grunted gruffly as she moved away from the toilet bowl and leaned back into her best friend's open arms. Her back rested flush against his chest, her head lolling back on his shoulder as she tried to take in deep, even breathes.

A chuckle from the man behind her had Hermione turning slightly to give Harry a raised eyebrow. His eyes were alight with concern, but she could see the small flicker of amusement as he grinned down at her. "You sounded exactly like Ron just now," he elaborated for her, snickering lightly as he watched her roll her amber eyes and turn back so she was facing the wall again.

Neither of them spoke about how right it felt to be sitting like they were. It wasn't in any way romantic, simply an act that was familiar from their time at Hogwarts. They would often times sit like this in times of stress, their roles reversed depending on which of them required the other persons comfort. Hermione felt her heartbeat slowing to meet the pace Harry's set as it beat comfortably against her back. She could hear it and found the sound almost as comforting as the embrace and being enveloped in his scent.

Werewolves were extremely touchy-feely. David had explained it to her as a way of forming bonds and seeking comfort and strength in those around them. The act itself had made Hermione uneasy at first, but soon she came to crave the physical contact as much as the next pack member.

"We'll get Caleb back, 'Mione," Harry promised her, his fingers entwining with her own as he placed a gentle kiss on her hair.

"I know," she replied, her voice hoarse from the vomiting. She could feel the small beads of sweat falling down her face as she pulled out the small, decorative piece of paper that had accompanied the note. It was an invitation to the yearly anniversary for the battle of Hogwarts. This year was a masquerade ball. Hermione had no idea why Greyback wanted to meet there of all places, surrounded by witches and wizards who wanted him thrown in Azkaban for his crimes. "I'm going to do as he says," she continued.

"WHAT?!" Harry exclaimed, his body physically recoiling before he was grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to face him. His green eyes blazed with anger but where others might have flinched away from his piercing gaze, Hermione was one of a select few who simply stared him down in return. "No way," he continued with a furious shake of his head, "that's never going to happen."

"I won't let Caleb die for me, Harry," she inserted firmly, her own eyes narrowing as they flashed gold; her wolf growling at the challenge Harry unknowingly dished out. She would yield to the orders of her Alpha but no one else.

She growled at him, "you have no control over what I do or don't do, Harry James Potter. Ten years I've lived here! Ten years I've called this place home… called these people family! We are a pack! And now, because I tried to move on from my own past, foolishly believing there would be no repercussions, a member of my pack had been taken." Hermione took in a deep breath, her eyes softening as she cupped Harry's face in her warmer-than-average hands. "He's fifteen," she told him quietly, "he's so young and he has so much he still needs to do. I can't lose anyone else, Harry," she continued, her eyes watering, "you didn't see me after the war. I lost everything that I was; I even gave up magic."

Harry's eyes widened at her last sentence. He had wondered why, when his own magic had reached out to hers, he had only encountered a barrier. Guilt settled over him, he had never even thought about just how badly Hermione had been affected by the war. She was his best friend, his sister in all but blood, the one person who had never left him. Hell, she had offered to go into the Forbidden Forest with him to face Voldemort.

Hermione wasn't prepared for Harry to throw himself at her, his arms wrapping around her as he crushed her body to his own. She could smell the bitter scent of guilt and sighed heavily. It was not her intention to make him feel guilty, she had simply wanted him to know why she had to do this.

Hours could have passed, though in reality it was a few minutes, and Hermione would have been none the wiser as she held Harry to her. She whispered soothing words into his ear, assuring him she didn't blame him for anything that had happened. Hermione was happy that Harry couldn't smell her emotions like she could smell his. If he could, he would have smelt the small pang of shame she felt because, for a short time after she had left London, Hermione did blame Harry for how her life had turned out. It had been a fleeting thought, brought on by her parents' death and the fire whiskey she had consumed, one she had felt instantly guilty for having, but it had been there anyway and she still felt rotten for having had it.

When they pulled away, both of their cheeks were stained by tears, but they still managed to give one another a watery smile. Hermione could see the moment Harry realised he wasn't going to be able to change her mind, that she would be giving herself over to Greyback like he had ordered. She knew he wanted to stop her, that if he could, he'd probably ward her into her room; but he also knew just how stubborn she could be.

"We came because I wanted to convince you to come home," Harry began after a drawn-out silence. Hermione kept quiet, unsure how to tell Harry that London was no longer her home and she'd never return there for longer than necessary.

"But I didn't want you to return just so you can give yourself over to Greyback." He removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes before he put the circular frames back on, "I'm going to have Aurors stationed around the ball. Any sign of Greyback and we'll take him down before he can ever reach you."

"But Caleb…"

"I promise we'll do everything we can to learn where Greyback's taken Caleb," Harry interrupted, "but I'm not going to lose you, 'Mione." He smiled softly, "I just got you back, after all."

Hermione nodded unsurely, afraid for their newest pack member. Caleb was just a pup, sure he wasn't her favourite pack member, but she'd never wish harm on him. She feared what Greyback would do to him if Harry's plan failed but a small part of her was thankful that she wouldn't have to go with him. Greyback terrified her about as much as Bellatrix Lestrange, and her instincts screamed at her to run to the furthest reaches of the planet to hide from him.

"Okay," she agreed lowly, "okay, we'll do it your way."

She watched Harry's shoulders sag from relief, her mind rapidly processing everything that had happened within the last twenty-four hours. As she slowly drew out of her mind, one final thought rang out clearly.

How many more surprises can I take before I'm left broken again?

David had not been happy with Hermione's decision to be bait to capture Greyback but had soon reluctantly agreed that it was far better than Hermione simply handing herself over to him.

Hermione had been both relieved and indignant when Harry had told her that she wouldn't be returning to London. She would be remaining in Alaska until the night of the ball where an Auror would arrive to escort her to the ball. Until then, Ron and Lavender would be staying with her in case Greyback tried to come after her before the ball.

"I don't need a babysitter, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed; her arms folded over her chest as she glared at the three men standing before her.

David towered over Harry and Ron's impressive frames, his own arms folded over his chest and making him look twice as intimidating as he usually did. "That may be so but let's face it, Hermione, Greyback isn't just a werewolf. He has magic and having extra wands in case he shows up would not only help to protect you, but the rest of the pack," her Alpha told her softly, his tone of voice a polar opposite to his body language.

Hermione huffed as David's lips twitched into a smirk, knowing that playing the pack card would trump her stubborn nature every time. Since her transformations began, David had seen the makings of an Alpha in the younger woman. She had leadership qualities he was sure she didn't even realise she had and her loyalty was something you needed to experience to believe.

Having met her friends, David had no doubt why Hermione had been drawn to them in school. The dark haired one, Harry, practically screamed natural born leader and the redhead, Ron, seemed fiercely protective of his friends. David knew that Ron had made a few mistakes when it came to their friendship during their time at Hogwarts, but he could see that things had changed since Hermione had left.

"Besides," Harry added, "Ron and Lavender can catch you up on everything you've missed since you left."

"I have a spare room," Hermione sighed, turning to Ron and Lavender as she spoke, "the bed isn't the largest in the world but a simple spell should fix that."

Lavender squealed happily, running forward to hug Hermione before she disappeared down the hall to find the aforementioned spare bedroom. "I'll head back with Harry to pick up a few things and be back around before the sun sets," Ron informed Hermione.

She couldn't believe that everything that had happened had happened before noon. Hermione silently nodded to her redheaded best friend as Harry stepped forward to hug her tightly. "I'm happy we found you, 'Mione," he whispered in her ear before he took a step back, "and I'll see you again in a week."

"Bye, Harry," Hermione breathed, taking in his scent before she reluctantly let him go, "say hi to Ginny for me?"

Harry flinched, "I'd expect a howler in a few hours."

Hermione copied his actions, flinching at the mention of anything to do with the infamous Weasley temper. The fact that Ginny was pregnant sent a small jolt of fear through Hermione. She was happy to admit she was scared of the youngest Weasley, who wasn't?

When Harry and Ron had left, Hermione had quickly checked on Lavender who had finished extending the bed and was cleaning up what little dust was in the room. Forgetting that David was still there, Hermione found herself in her second spare room, kneeling before her old school trunk, her fingers shaking as she tried to work up the courage to open it. She wasn't stupid, Hermione knew she would need her wand for the trip they were about to make, but the thought of picking it up when the last time she had used it was to throw hexes at other witches and wizards gave her pause.

"Relax," she breathed, trying to calm herself like she had done that very first day at Hogwarts when she had been afraid that she wouldn't get sorted into any house and would be forced to return to her old life. The sound of the trunk unlocking seemed to thunder over all other noises and Hermione felt her breathing hitch as she slowly lifted the lid of the trunk.

Her wand lay there innocently, not a speck of dirt or dust in sight. Hermione still didn't know how her wand had found its way to Hogwarts, much less how it had gotten into her beaded bag; especially since the last time she had seen it was when one of the Snatchers had confiscated it before they had been taken to Malfoy Manor.

She could feel the barrier she had placed around her magic creek and crack, calling for the slim wand that lay before her. Hermione reached for it slowly, achingly slowly, until her fingers scraped the sides of the wand.

She recoiled. The trunk slammed shut. The barrier reformed.

Anger coursed through her. She was angry at herself for allowing something as trivial as picking up her wand to affect her so much. At one point in her life, her wand had symbolised the purity that was magic. She had been so naïve back then. Magic wasn't pure, it was corrupt and deadly. Even a basic levitating charm could be used to haul someone over a cliff face.

I'm being ridiculous, she mentally scolded herself, magic isn't evil or good, it's the intent behind it that determines the nature of it.

Logically, she knew that was true. Emotionally, however, Hermione wanted to throw the trunk into a volcano or a super nova. Ten years she had lived without magic, and after ten years, she had felt like she had finally moved on from the war. Her reaction to her wand said otherwise.

Stiffening, Hermione opened the lid of the trunk once more. She drew on every ounce of Gryffindor courage and quickly shoved her hand in the trunk, pulling out her wand before she could chicken out again.

Hermione gasped at the intense magical hum that ran through her body. Ten years of supressed magic swirled viciously through her being, ready to burst forth in a violent display of accidental magic. Hermione put at tight lid on it, forcing it down like she had been doing for years now. Unfortunately, not before a short burst of magic exploded from the tip of her wand, shattering the wood, and sending Hermione flying into the far wall before she crumbled to the ground, unconscious.

Lavender felt the small magical explosion, stumbling at the surge of power that hit her. There was a loud crash and a series of heavy footfalls before Hermione's Alpha was yelling her name.

Grabbing her wand off the newly enlarged bed, Lavender rushed from the room. She skidded into another spare room only to stop when David growled at her as he crouched over Hermione's unconscious body. She raised her hands and lowered her chin until his growls stopped and his golden eyes disappeared. "Can I approach her?" she asked, keeping her head bowed and her wand visible, knowing the Alpha would take any unauthorised moves as an attack on his weakened beta. She may not have been a full werewolf, but Lavender had studied them extensively after she had been mauled by Greyback.

David grunted, nodding minutely but not moving from where he was crouched protectively over Hermione.

Lavender kneeled beside the two of them and waved her wand to cast a few diagnostic spells, all the while making sure to explain exactly what she was doing to the tense Alpha. Mentally, she thanked Remus and Bill for all their information on werewolves.

Hermione was simply unconscious, there were no bumps or concussions that they would need to worry about; though, when she woke up, she would probably have one hell of a headache. The young witch frowned, however, when one of her diagnostic spells came back with strange results.

"When did Hermione last use magic?" she asked the Alpha, casting a more in-depth diagnostic spell.

"Not since she's been here," he answered her after a long pause, his voice laden with concern as he watched her worked on Hermione.

"What?!" Lavender exclaimed, almost dropping her wand as her head snapped up so her eyes met David's, "ten years? H-Hermione hasn't used magic in ten years?"

She needed to be sure, needed his confirmation even as she hoped he would answer differently.

The Alpha shook his head, "she used to have a panic attack just reading her old school textbooks. A year after she arrived, she told me that when she even thought about touching her wand, she felt sick."

"What about wandless magic?" Lavender asked even as she got the answer to her question from the results of the diagnostic spell she had cast.

"You can do that?" David asked, surprised.

Lavender nodded as she focused on the results she was seeing, "powerful witches and wizards can. I know Hermione managed to cast a wandless confundus charm in her fifth year; impressive, especially for her age."

She waved her wand and an image of Hermione appeared above the unconscious woman. She would have been mesmerized by the gold particles that clustered inside of Hermione, swirling almost angrily inside of her. However, Lavender knew just how serious what she was looking at was and her concern for the unconscious witch grew.

"What is this?" the Alpha asked.

"The gold is Hermione's magic," Lavender explained breathlessly, "I've never seen this much in one body." At the confused look on the Alpha's face, Lavender continued, "witches and wizard rarely ever supress their magic; not since the statute of secrecy anyway. Those of them that do usually do so for severe reasons and they can have some very nasty side effects," she explained, "in children, they can develop into an Obscurus depending on their reason for suppressing their magic; it's why accidental magic is taken as a good sign in the magical community."

Lavender watched the gold particles flare before they steadied themselves once more, "as for older witches and wizards, the magic becomes volatile from being suppressed; it begins to… act out."

"Act out, how?"

"I'm really not sure," Lavender replied with a shake of her head, "but it's never good. The last recorded case was about three centuries ago, a wizard from Romania had been supressing his magic so he wouldn't have to tell his religious wife he was a wizard. No one knows what happened beforehand, but the end result was a magical explosion that levelled a whole village."

"Is there any way to stop it?"

Lavender ran the fingers of her free hand through her hair, "I don't know," she answered truthfully, knowing the werewolf would hear the skip in her heart if she lied, "but we'll figure it out. Once Hermione wakes up, we'll start trying to find ways of siphoning her magic without hurting her."

She watched as the Alpha picked Hermione up off the ground and carried her into her bedroom before placing her on the bed gently; stroking some wayward curls from her face. "What happens if you can't siphon her magic?" he asked, not looking at Lavender.

"With Hermione's magical potential? We'd be lucky if she only levelled a village."

"No, what will happen to her?"

Lavender blinked away the tears that rapidly sprung to her eyes. "If we don't siphon the pent-up magical energy, there'll be nothing left of her when it finally lashes out. No one is strong enough to survive that much power," Lavender explained quietly.

Hermione was in St. Mungos. She looked around curiously, no one seemed to realise she was there. In a way, it was kind of eerie. A small tug at her heart had Hermione feeling like she was in the wrong place but she ignored it in favour of making her way to a familiar room.

She looked at Neville's parents, laying unresponsively on their beds.

Mrs. Longbottom was just staring up at the ceiling as her husband slept peacefully beside her, his hands occasionally twitching.

The tug on her heart wanted her to keep following it, but Hermione simply watched the parents of one of her closest friends. She had always felt sad for the fate they had suffered; unable to watch their son grow into the brilliant man he had become.

"Help us."

Hermione jumped at the voice and turned to see Mrs. Longbottom standing behind her, Mr. Longbottom beside his wife. They were wispy, fading in and out of existence as they looked at her with eyes that were no longer distant. "Please, help us!" Mrs. Longbottom pleaded before they faded and Hermione found herself alone in Hogwarts.

She caught a flash of hair, the colour indiscernible due to everything being grey scale in this dream. "Hey!" she called, running after the owner of the hair as a sense of déjà vu struck her. She had dreamt this before. Not the hospital or Hogwarts, but her brain told her she had definitely had this dream before. For months actually.

"Help me."

The voice sounded so familiar but it was distorted enough that she couldn't exactly pinpoint why that was.

Hermione gave chase only to stumble as she suddenly found herself in the auditorium of the Ministry of Magic. It was empty, eerily so, until she caught a flash of dark hair.

Hermione gave chase, like she wasn't entirely in control of her own body.

Doors passed by her in a blur until she turned down a hall with a single door that seemed to be screaming at her. Her instincts told her to stop but no matter how hard she tried, her legs continued to move. The door got closer and closer until she was running through the wood and stumbling to the middle of a cavernous room that sent chills down her spine.

The Veil stood before her, just as large and as intimidating as when she had first seen it. The difference now? She could see a swirling mist where it had once been empty, eerie whispers coming from it that made her shake and take an uneasy step back.

Strong arms wrapped around her as she was pulled to a hard chest and Hermione once again felt her heartbeat pick up pace as she was embraced by her mate. She wanted to turn to see him, to know who he was, but his arms tightened a little as if reading her thoughts.

"Help me, Mia. Help me!"

Hermione gasped awake, falling out of her bed as she did. She cursed harshly as she landed on her floor with a loud thump.

Before she could finish her colourful litany of swears, Lavender and Ron came thundering into the room with their wands raised. Lavender was the first to lower hers, seeing that there was no danger. When Ron lowered his wand shortly after, he was wearing an amused grin as he spied his dishevelled best friend laying like a starfish on her hardwood floor. His girlfriend began giggling shortly after, though she was thoughtful enough to do it as she helped Hermione off the ground.

"Are you okay?" she asked the curly haired witch.

Hermione blinked owlishly before the dream slammed into her like a semi-truck. Ignoring the two guests, Hermione bolted from her room and ran into the living room where she quickly made her way over to the furthest bookshelf. Ron and Lavender had followed her into the room but she paid no mind to their questions as she quickly searched the shelves. When she couldn't find what she was looking for, Hermione let out a frustrated yell. She distinctly remembered reading something on dream messages and the Veil but none of the books on her shelves seemed to be the one she had read for the information.

"Damn it!" she yelled, running her fingers through her hair, and hissing as they occasionally snagged on a knot. Her temper flared and before she could control herself, Hermione punched the heavy oak bookshelf, splintering the wood.

"Hermione? What's wrong?" Lavender asked, holding Ron back when he tried to approach the angry witch.

Hermione turned to them, her eyes gold as she breathed heavily.

"'Mione?" Ron asked hesitantly, lowering Lavender's arm, and taking a cautious step towards his best friend. He made slow, exaggerated moves, placing his hands on her shoulders, and watching as she relaxed in his hold, her eyes returning to their usual dark hue. "Talk to us," he urged her, moving them both over to the sofa even as Lavender levitated in the tea she had been making before they had heard the thump of Hermione falling out of bed.

"I've been having this reoccurring dream," Hermione explained as she rested her elbows on her thighs and out her head in her hands, "it's been happening for a few months now. At first, I thought it might be a Mate Dream, David told me werewolves can get them to help locate their mate. But it's changed recently."

"How so?" Lavender questioned, intrigued by what Hermione was saying as she prepared everyone's cup of tea, Ron having told her how Hermione liked it.

"Because I've seen Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom."

Ron had been taking a drink of his tea when Hermione had spoken and had promptly began to choke on the mouthful he had been in the process of swallowing. "What?" he asked, looking at her with wide eyes.

"Usually, I'm in the Ministry of Magic, chasing someone in the halls until he catches me just as I reach a door and tells me to help him," she explained. "It used to unsettle me, thinking that my mate was in danger and I couldn't do anything. But the last one had the Longbottom's asking me to help them too."

Ron could see Hermione was holding something back, something big, and he waited a tad impatiently for her to tell him what it was.

"I," she took in a deep breath, "I saw the Veil."

Her head snapped up, her eyes moving to his as hope flashed in them.

"I think I can bring them back."

Ron hadn't believed her, obviously, after all, coming back from the Veil was impossible. Right? Besides, Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom hadn't even fallen through the Veil. So, why did Hermione believe that she could bring them out of their comatose states using the Veil?

"It could work," Lavender said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over them after Ron had promptly walked out of the cottage in search of the local pub. "There's so much we don't know about the Veil," she continued when Hermione gave her an inquisitive look, "we just assume that those who cross over into the Veil die. But what if they don't?"

"That still wouldn't explain how it could possibly help Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom," Hermione interjected, "they never fell into the Veil, they were tortured."

"What if the Veil is like limbo? The place souls go when they're neither living nor dead?" Lavender asked, "what if you can pull the souls back into this world? Essentially, you'd be bringing the person back. Perhaps, you'd be bringing back the part of the Longbottom's that was lost when they were tortured."

Hermione straightened in her seat, perking up at the newest theory presented to her. "So, we could bring Sirius back? We could give Neville back his parents?"

"We could bring Fred back," Lavender said without thought.

"Wait, what?" Hermione asked, swearing she had heard wrong. "Lavender," she continued softly, "if this theory is correct, we'd only be able to bring back people who belong in limbo. Fred died." Her voiced hitched as she said his name, remembering just how heartbroken she had been to learn of his death. Hermione hadn't been able to go and see his body, always having had a soft spot for the twins regardless of what they might have thought.

Lavender shuffled nervously, knowing this was something Ron had wanted to tell Hermione. However, knowing her mate, he'd be halfway drunk by now and Hermione needed to know this. "Hermione, Fred's in a coma in St. Mungos," she told her softly, "he's been there since shortly after the final battle."

"H-how is that possible?"

"His pulse was so faint only an advanced diagnostic spell managed to pick it up," Lavender explained, "he's in a magical coma but he doesn't seem to be waking up. George spends every day with him while Angelina and Lee mind the store. The healers are trying to get him to come to terms with the fact that Fred won't ever wake up."

"Oh my god," Hermione breathed, her hand covering her mouth as her eyes watered.

Lavender moved so she was kneeling before Hermione, grabbing her free hand in hers and squeezing it gently. "Hey, it's okay," she told the crying woman, "because this is the first time in ten years where I've heard of something that stands an actual chance of waking him up. I promise, I'll help you find any information we can on how we can use the Veil to get them back; maybe I can get Headmistress McGonagall to let us use the school library for research."

"I'm on house arrest," Hermione replied bitterly, angry with herself for not staying long enough to learn that Fred had survived. How could she have been so selfish?

"Don't be dramatic," Lavender retorted with a roll of her eyes, "no one said you were confined to the house; Harry said you weren't to go to London. Hogwarts isn't in London and we could Floo straight there from here if we get the permission we need."

"That's very Slytherin of you, Lavender," Hermione smirked, a few tears still trailing down her splotchy cheeks.

"Well, I did date a Slytherin in school."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Which one?" she asked curiously.

"Blaise Zabini," Lavender answered with a shrug. She jumped when Hermione suddenly laughed, "what?"

"I, uh, I dated Theodore Nott in fifth year."

"WHAT?! How come I never knew!" Lavender screeched, unbelieving that she of all people, had not ever heard this juicy piece of gossip.

"We kept it a secret for obvious reasons, Theo wasn't as obnoxious as his house mates."

Lavender sat there, gaping at Hermione as she processed everything the older woman had just said. "Merlin's hairy left nut!" she exclaimed, "the Gryffindor princess dated a snake? I didn't think you even knew what dating was!"

"Hey! I dated Viktor in fourth year!"

"You were actually together?!" Lavender screeched, her inner teenager coming out at all the new information being presented to her.

The two women briefly discussed Hermione's dating history and Lavender was surprised to learn the Gryffindor princess had never been as prudish as she had thought she was. It was only when Hermione stood up and went to make dinner that Lavender contacted Minerva who had been beyond thrilled to learn that her young cub had finally been found and had avidly agreed to let them use the school library. She also promised not to tell a soul what they would be researching. Lavender knew that chances were, Ron wouldn't recall the conversation and she didn't want to get anyone's hopes up if they failed at accomplishing what they were going to try.

She could hear Hermione humming to herself in the kitchen and went to offer her help when there was a knock at the door. "I'll get it," she called to Hermione, already moving to the door. Lavender was surprised when she saw David holding up a barely conscious Ronald Weasley. "Thank you for bringing him here," she told him as he practically carried her inebriated mate into the cottage, "I'll put him in bed."

"I can do it," David replied as he turned and half carried, half dragged Ron into the bedroom. When he came out, he looked Lavender over before he spoke, "where's Hermione?"

Lavender didn't answer, she merely motioned to the kitchen. "I haven't told her about her magic yet," she informed him, "when Hermione woke up, she was distressed. She's apparently been having these dreams…"

"…the one where she's at that Magic Ministry place?"

"Yeah," Lavender answered, not surprised that Hermione had told him; he was her Alpha after all. "Apparently the newest one was different; it involved a magical object in our world. Hermione thinks she can save several people, bring them back from limbo by using this object."

"Can she?" he asked, knowing how guilty Hermione had felt all these years. She had believed she hadn't done everything she could have done to help in the war. When she had first moved into the village, she could often be seen buying alcohol and sleeping pills to try and stop the nightmares and the guilt that weighed her down. She had been losing weight at an alarming rate when she had joined his pack and there had been a moment when David had feared her first transformation would kill her because her body wasn't strong enough to handle it.

"I don't know," Lavender answered truthfully, "but if there is anyone who could make it work, it'd be Hermione."

There was a short silence before Lavender heard an owl pecking at the window and turned to see Athena, Ginny's owl, with a red envelop in her beak. "This won't be good," she muttered, "Hermione! Mail!"

Hermione had barely removed the letter from Athena's beak when it opened and started screeching.

"HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER, WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?! I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WOULD DO THIS TO US AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE BEEN THROUGH! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED WE'VE ALL BEEN?! NO NOTE, NO FLOO CALL! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN DEAD AND WE'D HAVE NEVER BEEN THE WISER FOR IT!

"YOU MISSED YOUR BEST FRIEND GETTING MARRIED AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE FAMILY YOU ABANDONED! WHAT YOU DID WAS BEYOND SELFISH! DO YOU THINK YOU WERE THE ONLY PERSON SUFFERING?! WE ALL LOST PEOPLE IN THE WAR, HERMIONE, BUT DID ANY OF US LEAVE WITHOUT A WORD TO THE PEOPLE WE LOVED?! NO!"

During Ginny's rant, Hermione remained perfectly still, her face blank as she listened to the words the letter screeched at her in her friend's voice. The message fell silent for a moment before it began again, this time a lot calmer and in Harry's familiar baritone.

"Sorry 'bout that, 'Mione. I haven't had time to explain everything to Ginny, but I promise that I'll do it right now. Don't take what she said to heart, just give her a few days to calm down and process everything I'm about to tell her. We love you, 'Mione."

The letter fell to the ground, laying on her floor innocently even as Hermione felt her heart sinking. She turned, not paying attention to Lavender or David as she mumbled a small, 'I'll be back,' before she rushed from the cottage.

After her transformation, Hermione had begun running. It helped to calm her and kept her wolf from getting restless like she so often did. She knew where she wanted to go and as she ran, Hermione tried to keep her mind clear. The sun was beginning to set and Hermione wondered how the day had possibly passed so quickly. She supposed she had been unconscious for a few hours after her unfortunate mishap with her wand.

Hermione ran as fast as she could, her hair flowing behind her and no doubt tangling more than it already had been. She ran until she reached a cliff face. It was something she had found a couple months after she had been turned into a werewolf, a place where she often came when she was stressed or just needed to think. It overlooked the ocean and the smell of the salty air always seemed strangely soothing to her.

She sat right at the edge, her legs dangling over the edge as the wind whipped around her. Goose bumps appeared on her exposed arms; Hermione having removed her sweater earlier. From where she sat, she could just see the setting sun touching the horizon, reflecting brightly off the calm ocean. Not for the first time, Hermione wished she could be that calm, that peaceful. She wanted nothing more than to wash away her stress and live the carefree life she had always dreamed of.

The war was over, but the scars that remained would be there forever and Hermione feared she'd never truly get over everything that had happened. At first, it had taken her months to train her mind into reacting to things like a normal human being.

She hadn't been able to sleep on her bed for quite some time, the mattress far softer than the bunk beds they had used whilst they were on the run. Hermione had been unable to eat more than a few mouthfuls of food and even then, the rich textures had made her sick to her stomach. Even something as mundane as having a shower had been a chore. She had been so paranoid that something would happen if she took any longer than a few minutes at a time and baths were definitely out of the question for quite some time.

Sights, smells, sounds. They all seemed to set her off in one way or another and Hermione had often times found herself reaching for her wand before she remembered that the war was over and her wand was locked away.

Nothing, however, had compared to the nightmares. Hermione had been forced to buy sleeping tablets just so she could remain asleep long enough not to be at risk of randomly passing out from sleep deprivation. Unfortunately, that meant she had to suffer through the nightmares.

Bellatrix had played a very frequent roll in her nightmares, though, Dolohov and Greyback were a close second and third. In the end, Hermione feared Bellatrix far more than she ever would fear Voldemort. Did that fear go away now that she knew Bellatrix was dead? Not even a little bit. Hermione would rather face a hundred Voldemort's than ever have to face Bellatrix again.

Alcohol had helped. Every night, Hermione would drink herself into a stupor knowing that the alcohol staved off the nightmares. For a while. As her body built up a tolerance to it, Hermione needed to consume more of it and more frequently; so much so, that she had kept a bottle on her nightstand.

She had fallen so far from the eleven-year-old girl that had entered Hogwarts with a burning desire to prove herself worthy of the world she had somehow been blessed to be a part of. No longer had she craved the approval of others. Nor had she cared about something a trivial as grades. For the longest time, Hermione had been an empty shell of herself.

Until that fateful night when she had gone for a hike and had been turned into a werewolf. After that, Hermione had found something she hadn't even known she was looking for. A pack. An Alpha. She had found someone who took care of her, who put her needs above his own instead of the other way around. For years, Hermione had been the one to look after everyone else and she had never really had any idea how much she needed someone to tell her to shut up and let someone take care of her for once.

David had done so in the only way David knew how, by forcing himself into her life whether she liked it or not. At first, she had fought him tooth and nail, wanting nothing to do with him, the pack, or being a werewolf. She was so grateful that her Alpha was a stubborn man and after years, she finally felt like she had found herself.

Now? Ginny's words resonated in her mind. She had been selfish for leaving; hadn't she? Of course, she had. She had been thinking of no one except herself, but was that really a bad thing? After everything she had been through, everything she had suffered through, did she not deserve to be selfish for once?

"Thought I'd find you up here."

Hermione didn't startle at David's voice, having heard his familiar heavy footsteps before he had spoken. She turned her head so half of her face was visible to her Alpha, her tangled curls spilling messily over her shoulder. Hermione said nothing as David came forward and sat beside her, his own legs dangling off the cliff as their arms brushed.

"She was angry and we always say what we mean to say a bit more harshly than we mean to say it when we're angry," David told her.

She was thankful he didn't say something like, 'she didn't mean it,' or 'I'm sure she'll take it back.' Truth be told, Ginny had every right to feel the way she did and Hermione didn't want someone lying to her about that. Did Ginny's words hurt? Yes. Was she going to be pissed off that Ginny had said them to her? Of course not, what was the point? The reason Hermione had gotten on with Ginny so much was because she wasn't afraid to speak her mind and she never sugar coated anything.

"I was selfish," she told him quietly.

"You were," David agreed gruffly, "but sometimes we need to be selfish and there's nothing wrong with that, Hermione."

"I know," she answered, "but that doesn't mean I don't feel bad about it."

David placed a heavy arm over her shoulders and pulled her flush against his side. "It's okay to feel bad about things, but don't let it consume you. You fought in a war, suffered more than anyone your age ever should have to…"

"… we all did…"

"… and I'm not saying they didn't," he assured her, "what I'm saying is that everyone copes with stuff like that differently. For you, it was leaving."

Hermione rested her head on David's large shoulder as she watched the sun continue to disappear. She heard him move his other arm before she heard something being removed from his pocket and a chain with a dog tag on it was being presented to her.

"Did I ever tell you I was in the army?" he began again. When Hermione nodded, he continued, "did I ever tell you I was captured and held behind enemy lines?"

Hermione's eyes snapped to his, shaking her head when no words would leave her lips.

"Spent over a month being tortured for information I refused to give up before I was finally rescued. When I got back over here, I felt different, like my life didn't fit anymore. I was twenty-four and yet I felt like my whole life had gone on without me. On the outside, everything seemed normal, but on the inside, where it mattered? I was in pieces.

"I didn't know how to make myself better. Alcohol and drugs helped for a time but the more I consumed…"

"… the more you needed," Hermione breathed, a tear finally slipping from her eye.

David nodded, "one night I hit a particularly low point in my life. My old man wanted me to try and get reinstated so I could be deployed again. I'd only even joined because we were a military family and I wanted to make him proud.

"I took a few pills and got drunk off my face before I decided to go for a walk. Didn't even bother checking the news that night, hadn't done so in months. If I had, I'd have seen the news report telling people to stay inside because a few hikers had been mauled to death by some animal."

Hermione knew where this was going but kept quiet, wanting to hear what he had to say and curious as to how he had become the Alpha he was.

"One moment I was stumbling through the underbrush and the next I was waking up in a hospital bed with a nurse telling me it was a miracle I was even alive let alone conscious. It wasn't until my first full moon after being attacked that I realised what had happened and I was shit scared. But, getting turned into a werewolf put my life into perspective. I remembered the pain of my first transformation, remembered having these flashbacks to when I was being tortured; but the pain was somehow freeing.

"When I was human again, I finally realised that if I wanted to be remotely happy in my life, I needed to stop trying to please everyone else around me. I needed to stop putting all of their needs above my own. And I did," he said softly, resting his chin on the top of her head, "I confronted my old man about everything and when he couldn't accept my choices, I packed up and left. Travelled for a while, went to China, and studied with a pack of werewolves that also happened to be Monks; that's how I learnt to keep in control of my wolf, to bond with it instead of fighting with it. It wasn't long after that that I had the first dream about my mate."

She could practically feel his lips turning up in a smile, "found her in Alaska, this redhead with a temper as fiery as her hair and just as much passion to go along with it. She showed me what it was like to want to be selfless, and yet, I knew she'd never expect anything from me I didn't want or have to offer."

"And he showed me that I could love someone with everything I was and still be my own person."

David and Hermione turned to see Kathy walk out of the shadows, her eyes soft as she looked at the both of them. The older woman made her way to Hermione's other side and sat beside her as she wrapped her arm around the younger woman's waist. "We're all a little selfish, Hermione," she continued for her husband, who smiled lovingly at her over Hermione's head. "That doesn't make us bad people. After all, how can we possibly help others, if we never give up time to help ourselves first?" she finished, placing a kiss on Hermione's cheek. "Your friend told me what happened and I knew you'd come up here," she informed Hermione when the younger woman gave her an inquisitive look.

The three of them sat in silence, watching as the stars slowly came out and illuminated the now dark sky. The wind continued to rush around them but Hermione couldn't feel it from where she was sandwiched between her Alpha and his mate. She still held the necklace David had given her, running her finger over it absentmindedly as she stared off into space.

"I want to try save Fred, Sirius, and Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom," she finally said.

"If anyone can do it, it's you," David informed her, parroting Lavender's words from earlier.

"But I have another reason to want to do it."

"And that's okay too, Hermione," Kathy assured her.

"I think my mate is trapped in the Veil."

That gave David pause and he pulled away from her a little so he could look her in the eyes. "You don't sound too sure," he said cautiously, not wanting to upset her so shortly after getting her to calm down.

Hermione shook her head, "I'm almost certain of it," she replied, "there's no other explanation for why I keep finding myself in the Ministry of Magic or why I saw the Veil in my last dream." She gave her head another shake before she turned to look at Kathy, "why did you go to my house, is everything okay?"

Kathy smiled brightly, recalling the actual reason she had been looking for Hermione. "Everything's fine," she assured Hermione, "Lizzy wanted me to see if you'd like to visit her and the twins at the hospital."

"Really?" Hermione gasped, instantly perking up at the mention of the babies. She practically flew from the ground, hoisting David and Kathy up with her in her excitement, "let's go!"

David chuckled as he wrapped a strong arm around his wife, "perhaps we should stop off at your place so you can get dressed?"

Hermione looked down at her worn sweatpants and her black tank top. She wasn't even wearing shoes and knew her Alpha had a point. The hike back to her cottage took a little over forty minutes and Hermione was tackled by Lavender in a bone-crushing hug as the younger woman fussed over her.

She still couldn't believe this was the girl she had never really gotten along with in school. Lavender was so different now, more caring, and less focused on the trivial things in life like who was dating who and what lipstick went with which eyeshadow.

"Are you okay?" she asked Hermione, "I put a stasis charm on the food and made a cup of chamomile tea for when you got back."

"I'm fine, Lavender, thank you. I'm actually about to go to the hospital to visit a friend who's just given birth," Hermione explained to the blonde.

"Aww, babies!" Lavender cooed as Hermione disappeared into her room only to appear a few minutes later dressed in a pair of jeans and a large jacket.

"Would you like to come, dear?" Kathy asked Lavender, "Lizzy won't mind, and Henry is looking for any excuse to show off the twins."

Lavender squealed happily, stopping when David and Hermione cringed at the sound, "sorry," she winced before she grinned, "I'd love to come! Thank you!"

"Shouldn't we leave a note for Ron?" Hermione questioned as they walked out of the house.

"I left one on the bedside table with a pain potion and a glass of water."

"Does he drink often?" Hermione asked, concerned for her friend.

Lavender shook her head, "not really, and it's even more rare that he gets drunk. Usually, it's when he and Harry have been working a particularly difficult case. All that stuff about the Veil just threw him for a loop." She clapped, "enough about that though, we're about to go see some babies! I bet they're as cute as a Pygmy Puff!"

"A what?" David and Kathy asked from where they walked behind the two women.

"I'll explain later," Hermione offered as they walked down the main road in the village, the hospital already visible.

"They are pretty cute," Kathy added, even though she had no idea what a Pygmy Puff was, "and Tommy is thrilled to have two younger sisters."

Lizzy had decided not to find out the gender of the babies, wanting it to be a surprise, though Hermione knew she had been hoping for girls. She couldn't wait to see the twins and the closer they got to the hospital, the faster she walked. Hermione was practically skipping when they entered the hospital and Kathy led them through the halls until they stopped out the front of a private room.

They waited outside as Kathy entered to inform Lizzy that they were there and that they had brought a friend. She appeared a few moments later, grinning widely as she motioned for them to enter.

The room was already filled with congratulatory balloons and bears. In a town as small as theirs, everyone knew everyone and news travelled fast. Hermione had even spied one of Margaret's famous casseroles; the elderly woman obviously having stopped by earlier to offer her congratulations to the beaming couple.

Lizzy was the first-person Hermione saw and she rushed forward to give the tired looking woman a warm hug. "Congratulations," she whispered into her ear, "how did it go?"

"It hurt like all hell," Lizzy smiled drowsily, "they were only born a couple hours ago."

"Wow," Hermione breathed.

"Do you want to meet them?" came Henry's voice from behind her.

Hermione turned to see Henry and David holding a pink bundle each, David gazing down at his bundle softly. Henry stepped forward with the other one and gently placed her in Hermione's awaiting arms. When she had the correct grip, Hermione used her hand to move the fabric aside and reveal the face of the little girl she was currently holding.

"Her name is Jessie," Lizzy smiled, watching her friend gaze down at her daughter in awe, "she's the oldest. David's holding Alyssa."

David walked over to Hermione so she could see Alyssa. Both girls were sleeping soundly, their small faces light like their mothers. They also had their mother's blonde curls. Hermione swore she melted when Jessie yawned, her little mouth stretching before she fell still once more.

"They're beautiful," Hermione whispered, gently running her finger over Jessie's chubby little cheek.

"Hermione," Henry spoke up from where he stood beside Lizzy, "we've known each other for almost a decade now and Lizzy and I can't think of a better person to be Jessie and Alyssa's godmother. Will you accept?"

She smiled as Jessie's hand moved, her fingers curling around Hermione's and squeezing softly. "I'd be honoured," she whispered, not wanting to break the moment by speaking too loudly.

Vaguely, Hermione heard a camera go off, but she was too focused on the small bundle she was currently cradling. David wrapped his free arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer to him so the twins were side by side. She smiled up at him and he returned it with one of his own.

Lavender, Kathy, Lizzy, and Henry shared a smile as they watched the two of them, Kathy snapping up pictures and Lavender taking everything in. She never wanted to forget the look on Hermione's face, especially with the feeling she was getting.

This was a moment of peace. The calm before the storm.

And they were walking into a hurricane.

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