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Three days had passed since Harry, Lavender, and Ron had found Hermione. Ginny had written another letter to Hermione, this one telling her how sorry the redhead was for what she had said. Ginny said that she hadn't meant to say the things she did the way she had said them and that she was truly happy they'd found her. She had also told Hermione that she and Harry had an almost two-year-old son named James and she was now pregnant again and was due in a little over a month, more than ready for the baby to be delivered.

When Hermione wasn't in the cottage, she was with Lizzy, Tommy, Henry, and the twins, Jessie, and Alyssa. The twins had their fathers' eyes and you could already see the light smattering of freckles that dusted their noses just like their older brother. Tommy was beyond thrilled that he was a big brother, but he did complain about the amount of crying the twins seemed to do at night.

Right now, Hermione was going over a few books Minerva had dropped off yesterday. She had been so ready to go to the school, only to get a massive panic attack when she had stepped towards the fireplace to take the Floo. As it turned out, instead of dealing with a lot of her problems, Hermione had simply pushed them to the back of her mind. Now, they were happily coming to the forefront of her mind and were wreaking havoc with her emotions. The fact that her magic was sporadic at best of times didn't help matters.

Lavender had explained everything to Hermione, informing her that suppressing her magic was now having a negative effect on it and that they needed to find a way to safely siphon it before it killed her. Strange enough, this was the one thing that didn't set her anxiety off. The threat of death was morbidly familiar and comforting in a way. Hermione had made Lavender and David swear not to mention it to anyone from the wizarding world until she had dealt with Greyback and the Veil.

The Veil. She had been dreaming and thinking of it more often than not these days. When she wasn't visiting her goddaughters, Hermione was studying all the books on the Veil she could get her hands on. The information was vague at best but she kept meticulous notes and managed to draw her own conclusions.

She couldn't call back the souls trapped within the Veil; they wouldn't be able to cross anyway without a body to return to. Apparently, the Veil fluctuated; weakening and strengthening with the moon cycle. Unfortunately, the wizard who had discovered that little piece of information had disappeared before he could share the correct moon phases with anyone else.

Not much is known… it is impossible to bring back… the Veil…

Everything she read was pretty much the same as the next. The only real lead she had gotten was with the moon phases and she had no added information on that so it was just another dead end. Her frustrations only continued to mount the more she read. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on as she went over her notes.

Ignoring the number of people who seemed to think it was impossible to bring people back from the Veil, Hermione now had reason to believe the Veil was indeed some kind of limbo. Her dreams also made her think that limbo just so happened to be an alternate dimension that mirrors their own in every way save the fact that it only housed those who were between life and death. This was an even bigger headache because it meant that, if you could bring people back, you would first have to find them in the mirror dimension.

It was well past midnight when Hermione decided to call it a night. She closed the ancient tomes and placed them neatly on her kitchen counter before she turned the lights off and made her way through the house and to her bedroom. If her search for answers wasn't frustrating enough, Hermione had been experiencing magical outburst over the last few days. Yesterday she had accidentally blown up her coffee table when Lavender had screeched at the sight of a rat scurrying across the floor.

Lavender had been contacting every healer she knew in an attempt to find something that could help Hermione and the older woman was thankful for it, but with every call her heart sunk at the idea that there just might be no stopping what was going to happen.

The dreams she had were her only reprieve, creepy though they might be they also gave her a sense of comfort. Hermione knew this had something to do with her mate, whose face she had yet to see. She couldn't get any distinguishing features due to the dreams being in greyscale and his voice being somewhat distorted.

That didn't mean she didn't shiver when she was wrapped in his arms, her back flush against his chest, as he whispered in her ear. She was embarrassed to admit it, but that part of the dream left her frustrated and aroused to no end when she woke up.

Hermione had tried to deviate from the dream. She had tried to look around, tried to get a feel for the place to see if there were any answers for her there. Ten steps towards the Ministry library was all she had managed before she was suddenly in the same corridor she was always in, her legs pumping as she chased after her mystery mate. The sensation of her heart being tugged on never seemed to go away and Hermione would find herself absentmindedly rubbing her chest throughout the day, a frown turning down her lips as she became lost in thought.

Sighing to herself, Hermione worked her way out of her clothes and into a pair of black sleep shorts and an oversized shirt before she wriggled her way into bed. She lay there, staring up at her ceiling as Ron's snores reached her ears. Having him and Lavender with her over the last few days had helped to relax her a little. Lavender was constantly talking to her about something she had missed in the Wizarding World over the last few years and Ron… well, Ron was Ron. Her best friend whose emotional range had only upgraded from a teaspoon to a tablespoon but she loved him regardless.

Seeing Ron and Lavender together made Hermione wonder how she would be with her mate. Would she love him if he weren't her mate? That had always bothered her. How much of a choice did she really get when it came to the mate bond? Her wolf would love her mate for the rest of their lives; would she? Hermione didn't think she could stay in a relationship with someone she couldn't love, mate bonds be damned. Her whole life had been dictated for her in some way or another and she refused to let this be another thing she had no control of.

Eventually, exhaustion reared its ugly head and each blink of her eyes became heavier and longer until her eyes closed one last time and she was thrown into the world of dreams.

She was standing in the Great Hall. That was new. Her dreams never took her here and she had always been grateful of that. The last time she had seen the room she now found herself in, it was full of bodies, both dead and barely hanging on.

Now? Now it was full of people laughing and dancing. They wore masks, elaborate and grand like their clothes. She looked down and gasped at the dress she was wearing. It was a mix of lace and sequins, tightly fitted with an inappropriately large split up the right side. It was almost strapless, a lace floral design moving its way up its right side where it curled around like a necklace.

Her body shimmered like she had been painted in glitter, her skin a golden hue. She found a mirror, conveniently placed to her left, and noticed the delicate lace mask that covered a part of her face. It was black like the dress, the pattern shaping her eyes and seemed to be held up by magic. Which was highly likely. Her hair was put up in a similar manner to how she had worn it the night of the Yule Ball in her fourth year, though there was more hair now than there had been then.

She stepped forward, her body moving without her permission as she made her way through the crowd of people who paid her as much attention as the next person. A simple nod of acknowledgment before they turned back to their conversation.

Her feet carried her to the edge of the dancefloor where they stopped and she took in the dancing crowds. It was a sea of colours and expensive fabrics as music filled the cavernous space. Recognizing anyone was impossible with the masks but Hermione still looked to see if she might recognise anyone present.

That's when her eyes found bright red hair and she felt her heart freeze. "Fred," she whispered, unable to manage anything louder as she looked at the face of someone she had once had a crush on. Of course, that crush had long since fizzled out and Hermione found herself relieved that the familiar tugging in her chest wasn't pulling her towards him.

Fred saw her and grinned widely, making his way to her until they stood barely a foot from each other. He looked her up and down, his grin softening to a smile as he did. "You look beautiful, 'Mione," he told her simply, "but why are you here?"

"I, uh," she stuttered, not sure what to say or how to explain everything, "I'm working on a way to help those trapped in the Veil."

His eyes widened, "can you help me?" he asked eagerly.

"I'll try, Fred, I promise," she replied.

"That's all I can ask," he told her, holding his hand out, "come on, Granger," he smirked, "I know you've always wanted to dance with me."

She went to protest but he had already moved, grabbing her gently by the wrist to make sure she followed him.

The song wasn't fast but it wasn't overly slow either as Fred pulled her to him, her chest flush against his. He manipulated her arms so they were around his neck as his large hands fell to her slim waist and squeezed lazily. "You seem different," he commented after a moment of silence.

"None of us were ever really the same after the war," she mumbled quietly, "I doubt it left anyone untouched."

He frowned, a look that didn't belong on his usually joyous face and Hermione wished she hadn't said anything.

"George misses you," she said, looking away as her eyes perused the Great Hall; she didn't even have to have seen George to know he missed Fred, she knew how close the twins had always been.

"I miss him too," Fred sighed, "hey, did he ever get with Angelina? He always did have a thing for her."

Before Hermione could reply and tell him she had no idea because she had selfishly run away from the wizarding world, she felt a tug on her navel that felt oddly like the sensation one got when they were about to be Portkey'd. She barely had enough time to look back up at Fred before she was being forcefully tugged away.

Hermione stumbled on the ridiculously high heels before she managed to right herself. She looked up and sighed heavily when she found herself once more at the Ministry of Magic. Before she could do anything, she was suddenly running down the familiar corridors she always did when she was there.

However, unlike the other times, her mate was nowhere to be seen. She puffed out a breath as she turned another corner only to squeal when strong hands grabbed her waist and pulled her into a dark alcove.

She was pushed against the wall as a hard, muscular body was pressed to her front and a hand was placed over her mouth to staunch her surprised cry. Her eyes flashed gold at the threat before her wolf sensed her mate's presence and her whole body relaxed.

"Beautiful," came a whispered voice and Hermione looked up only to frown. His face was bathed in shadow and she could only make out the outline of his lips and the gleam of his eyes. His light eyes, filled with mischief and warmth, screamed at her to remember them; they were so familiar and yet she couldn't, for the life of her, remember why that was.

"Why can't I know who you are?" she asked as he pressed up against her, his body flush against her own. Her pulse had quickened the moment he had touched her and her arousal had spiked to heights she had never imagined they could spike to.

"It's not the right time," he answered simply, his voice husky, "but you're smart, Mia, you'll figure it out soon enough."

"Can I at least know your name?" she asked breathlessly, he was too close and she was finding it hard to think clearly when she could feel his own arousal pressing against her belly.

"Too much of a giveaway," her mate mumbled, his voice almost a growl from his own frustration.

Through her arousal induced haze, Hermione clung to that statement and her eyes widened. "So, I know you." It hadn't been a question and she felt him stiffen slightly before he chuckled, his face only a hairsbreadth away from her now. When had he gotten so close? And how did he manage to still keep his face hidden as he did?

"You really are the brightest witch of your age, love," he replied before his lips met hers.

She awoke with a gasp and a curse before she glared at the owl tapping on her window. The very owl that had woken her up just as her mate had begun to deepen the kiss between them. Her chest rose and fell with her shallow breaths, her body sweaty and a fire ignited in her belly as her skin remembered the feel of his lips on hers. Waking up frustrated and aroused was nothing new to her but she was pissed off too. They had never kissed before and her entire being felt like it was on fire.

The owl was an intimidating thing. It was jet black with a jagged scar on its right eye and looked to be missing a few feathers. Its yellow eyes were narrowed like it hated everything and wanted to be done with its task so it could get far away from her.

It was carrying a pretty decently sized black box. Hermione walked over to the window and opened it wide enough to reach over and remove the box. The whole time, the owl stared at her, somehow managing to make her feel small and insignificant before it gave a loud screech-like hoot and flew away.

"Bloody bird," Hermione muttered as she shut the window and moved back to her bed. She could hear the shower going and could safely assume that Lavender was in the bathroom down the hall, preparing for the day. Hermione spied a small envelope attached to the top of the box and quickly plucked it up to read it.

Her body chilled as she read the neat scrawl of the short note.

Looking forward to seeing you at the ball. Wear this or I just might get angry and who knows what I'll do to the temperamental pup.

F.G.

Instead of panic, Hermione felt furious. Greyback was using one of her pack mates to control her and if he even so much as laid a hand on Caleb, she would take great pleasure in ripping his throat out with her teeth. A few days ago, the thought would have made her a little nauseous but Greyback had pushed her too far.

Hermione ripped the lid off the box and glared down at the emerald green dress that lay there innocently even as she paled several shades. It was made from chiffon and lace, with a cluster of jewels on the left side to cinch the dress in at her waist. The dress looked like it would hug her every curve until it reached mid-thigh, where it seemed to flare out and fall softly to the ground. There was an inappropriately large split up the left leg and the back would expose her shoulders and part of her back before it stopped around her waist. What. The. Hell?

Hermione couldn't deny it was a very beautiful dress, but she wanted to tear it to shreds just on principle alone because of who had given it to her.

Of course, she would wear it; Hermione wouldn't do anything to jeopardise Caleb's safety and if that meant following Greyback's request then so be it. That didn't mean she wasn't going to smack that psychotic werewolf good and proper when she finally came face to face with him again. That is, if she didn't freeze like a deer in headlights. No, she vowed, she wouldn't freeze, she had to be brave to get Caleb away from Greyback; alive and unharmed. There were no other alternatives she was willing to accept.

Her brain started going through multiple scenarios as it tried to work out contingency plan after contingency plan, just like she had done during the war. By the time the shower had stopped, Hermione had closed the box and shoved it under her bed. She had also thought of several good plans for getting Caleb back because she knew Greyback wasn't going to let him go even if he did get his claws on her. He'd either force Caleb to join his pack or he'd kill him. She wasn't going to let either scenario happen.

After a quick, and cold, shower, Hermione made her way out of her room and into the kitchen where Lavender was already preparing breakfast like she did most mornings. Hermione still marvelled at the changes Lavender had gone through since she had last seen her.

Lavender, while still fashion conscience, didn't obsess over her looks nearly as much as she used to. Not that she needed to. Even with the large scars that were visible on her neck and shoulder, Lavender was absolutely beautiful. She stood in Hermione's kitchen, wearing a pair of sweatpants and Ron's old Quidditch jersey as she hummed to herself.

Hermione had noticed that Lavender liked to cook the Muggle way and rarely ever used magic in the kitchen. When Hermione had asked her about that she had simply shrugged and replied with 'it helps me think to do it the muggle way.' Hermione had agreed with that statement. Even before she had begun suppressing her magic, she had done a lot of things the muggle way. It had helped her clear her head and kept her connected to her roots.

The smell of bacon called Ron to the kitchen like a Siren called a Sailor to sea. He was yawning loudly as he sat heavily at the kitchen table, his hair a wild mess and his chest and torso bare. Hermione rolled her eyes when she saw Lavender eyeing Ron, though she smiled behind her mug of coffee. Every morning was like that. Ron and Lavender would practically have sex with their eyes, eat breakfast, and then go have actual sex when they were done. Hermione had taken to running in the mornings for that exact reason; werewolf hearing meant nothing short of a silencing charm would prevent her from hearing them going at it like rabbits. Unfortunately, for her, Lavender and Ron frequently forgot the silencing charm.

"I need to go home and grab something to wear to the ball," Lavender suddenly said as breakfast was coming to a close, "would you like me to grab you something to wear, 'Mione?"

For a moment, Hermione thought about saying yes but remembering the note and what Greyback was capable of, she politely declined. Once the table was cleared and Ron and Lavender had made for their room, Hermione quickly changed into a pair of running shorts and a sports bra. She braided her hair and grabbed her MP3 player before she ran out the door just as Lavender's moan and Ron's satisfied groan reached her ears.

Hermione took the trail she did every time she ran since becoming a werewolf. Usually, she reserved her runs for the evening, but there was only so many things she could listen to and her best friend going at it was not one of them.

Her shoes hit the ground with barely a sound as she pushed herself to run as fast as she could, feeling when her eyes shifted colours as things became sharper. She loved running like this, with everything in high definition as she let her instincts drive her. It was those instincts alone that alerted her to the fact that she was being followed. That and her pursuers weren't very quiet as leaves and sticks crunched beneath their feet.

When the wind blew their scent towards her, she grinned but made sure not to acknowledge that she knew they were there. Hermione turned down her usual path before she quickly scaled the nearest tree.

"Where'd she go?" Holland asked as he, Logan, and Kyla came into view. As the youngest of their pack, they had yet to learn how to move quietly. David had informed her that he was going to send them out after her sometime this week to see how well they did on getting the drop on her. She had seen mischief in his eyes when he had said it but she hadn't thought anything of it and had merely agreed with his order to help him train the pups.

"She was literally here a moment ago," Logan huffed as he did a circle to try and find her. Hermione sniggered quietly as he threw his hands up and looked at Holland and Kyla for answers.

Kyla was sniffing the air and Hermione was mildly impressed. She shrugged after a moment, "maybe she did that Wizard thing where she disappears and reappears somewhere else? What'd she call it? Apparate?"

"Nah, Hermione says that makes a loud sound, like a whip cracking," Holland replied, "we would have heard it if she had."

Hermione smiled as they talked before she slowly lowered herself to the lowest branch and waited. Holland spied her first, his eyes widening when he saw her crouching on the branch and took a large step away from Logan who had his back to her. Noticing his movement, Kyla followed Holland's gaze to Hermione and also took a large step away from Logan.

Logan, noticing his friends' behaviour, turned to look at what they were looking at only to be tackled to the ground by Hermione. They rolled along the ground, each one trying to get an advantage over the other before Hermione used her thumb to put a little bit of pressure on Logan's ribs. The younger wolf gasped at the sharp pain before Hermione had him pinned beneath her, her eyes glowing brightly as she used her legs to pin his arms to the side of his body.

"How?" he growled, frustrated.

Hermione sat up, still keeping him pinned, "you're too loud," she explained, "I could hear you the moment you started chasing me. When facing a wolf with more experience than you, you need to take them by supr…"

She was cut off as a large weight slammed into her, knocking her off Logan and into the trees. A large hand cradled the back of her head as a large arm went around her waist and pulled her to a hard chest. Had David's scent not surrounded her, Hermione had been prepared to attack her assailant.

They rolled to a stop, David's form above her own as he let out a full-bellied laugh. "What was that about surprise, pup?" he chuckled as he peered down at her.

"Oh, ha ha," she growled, even as a smile stretched her lips, "get off me. What the hell is Kathy feeding you?"

"Are you calling me fat?" he questioned, his eyebrow raised before he suddenly became limp on top of her.

Hermione let out a whoosh of air. Four sets of laughter reached her ears as she shoved David off of her. She looked up to see Holland, Logan, Kyla, and Kathy doubled over with laughter. David and Hermione shared a look and a grin before they were on their feet and running at the others. David ran after Kathy, the older woman running down the path that led to their own cottage, her laughter ringing throughout the air before it was cut off by a playful squeal as David caught her and threw her over his shoulder.

Holland, Logan, and Kyla ran as Hermione chased them, her eyes scanning them to see which one was going to deviate from the group first. Holland's head turned slightly and she moved closer to him as he ran off the well-worn path and into the trees. She followed him, hearing Logan and Kyla yelling for him to run as the trees whipped passed them.

Holland wasn't as fast as her but he was clever. He deviated from his path often and Hermione was forced to come to a halt because she had missed the turn he had taken. Her eyes glowed as she chased him, her body preparing to pounce on him the moment she was close enough to do so. Until a scent reached her nose and had her freezing in her tracks.

Not hearing her chasing him any longer, Holland stopped and turned to see Hermione sniffing the air, her shoulders tense. The smell of Earth that assaulted her senses should have calmed her but it was tainted. It smelt like burnt trees and the metallic tang of blood. It was dangerous.

"Holland!" Hermione shouted, too late.

Holland was tackled by a bloody brick wall, a few of his ribs cracking at the impact. The massive weight was on him one second and gone the next as Hermione ploughed into the werewolf with more force than her slim body should have been capable of. She roared at the werewolf, the sound powerful enough to make his own eyes light up and, no doubt, alert the others to the threat.

Logan and Kyla appeared through the trees only seconds later, having been following Hermione and Holland, only to stop at the sight of the massive half-transformed werewolf standing off against their pack mate.

Hermione twitched as she heard Holland whimper. She had heard his ribs cracking and had seen red. "Get Holland out of here and go get David," she ordered in a tone that told them not to even bother arguing with her. When their footsteps faded from her ears, Hermione breathed out a small sigh of relief. The pups were out of danger.

"Who are you?" she questioned; her hackles raised as she glared at the outsider.

The outsider didn't reply, he merely sniffed the air and grinned ferally. "Greyback was right," he grunted, his words washing over Hermione like a bucket of ice water, "you do smell delicious."

"Greyback sent you?" Hermione asked, her heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings fluttered. She was supposed to have until the ball in three days. Why would Greyback send one of his lackeys for her now? The element of surprise, her mind supplied for her.

"I wanted to see what all the fuss was about," the outsider replied. So, Greyback hadn't sent him. He was a rogue werewolf. Which was more dangerous than if he had been sent by Greyback.

Without warning, the outsider attacked her. Hermione barely dodged his hulking body. He was roughly the size of David, but where David's size made you feel safe, this werewolf's size told her she was in for a world of pain if he got his claws in her.

For the first time in ten years, Hermione wished she could use her magic. She could safely neutralise the situation without the need for violence with a simple binding spell. Unfortunately, her magic was temperamental at best and downright dangerous at worst. So, they were going to have to handle this the way most werewolf packs did. With a fight. A fight that was not in her favour.

Since becoming a werewolf, David had made sure to teach Hermione how to protect herself. He had taught her to fight even when she had told him she would never have any use for the actual knowledge. Eventually, she had only continued to do it because it had helped her to feel more relaxed, knowing she didn't need her magic to keep her safe had been a blessing. A blessing she hadn't ever thought she would be using.

Hermione brought her leg up and into the werewolf's chest but it had little effect on him. It did, however, allow him to get a hold of her and fling her into a nearby tree. She groaned as she felt two ribs crack, her body slumping to the ground before she quickly rolled over moments before his large foot came down on the spot she had just been.

Picking up a fallen branch as thick as her leg, Hermione brought it down across the outsider's face; thankful that this time it seemed to have an effect. The branch shattered but the force had been enough to daze the werewolf. Hermione took David's main advice as the werewolf tried to get his balance. She ran. You only fight until you have the chance to run, and then you run like hell, he had told her as he trained her.

Hermione was faster on her feet than the outsider. His hulking frame didn't help any as she jumped over fallen branches, her ribs screaming at her as she refused to stop for even a second.

As she ran, her mind took her back to the woods just before they had been taken to Malfoy Manor. Her heartbeat increased as the outsider vanished and suddenly it was Snatchers chasing her, Harry, and Ron.

Flashes of red flew past her head as she ducked around another large tree, throwing a look over her shoulder to throw a spell of her own.

"Hermione!" she heard Ron shout as he ran beside her, throwing his own spells at the Snatchers.

"Harry!" she yelled, looking for her other best friend as a flash of red barely missed her head. Hermione saw Harry, slightly behind her and to her left. His eyes were hard and yet somehow softened by his concern as he constantly glanced at her and Ron to make sure they were still there and hadn't been caught.

Hermione tripped and fell but quickly scrambled to her feet as an unknown spell hit the spot she had just been. "Confringo!" she screamed, pointing her wand over her shoulder. She vaguely heard a tree explode and a pained scream fill the air but she refused to slow down. She needed to keep going, she needed to keep Harry safe.

But Harry was gone. Where had he gone? He had been running not too far from her only moments ago. And where was Ron? Oh, God, had they been captured?

She threw a look over her shoulder only to scream when she ran into something solid, large arms moving to cage her in. Then they were gone and she heard the sound of something large hitting a tree with a great deal of force. She didn't stop. She couldn't stop. Hermione had to find Harry and Ron.

"Hermione!"

It was Ron. Ron was calling her. Where was he?

"Hermione, stop! The cliff!"

The cliff? What cliff? She didn't have time to think or speak when she was suddenly grabbed around the waist as the ground disappeared from beneath her feet. She was pulled back and landed on the ground moments later with the arm still wrapped securely around her waist.

She screamed and fought; she wouldn't go to Malfoy Manor. Not again. She'd rather die.

"'Mione stop," she heard Ron grunt, "Hermione!"

Then. A loud roar. One that shattered the illusion she had been trapped in and brought her back to reality faster than if she had been doused in ice water. Hermione was pressed against Ron's chest, his arm securely around her waist. The cliff she had been sitting on with David and Kathy the night previous was only a foot or so in front of them. Ron's chest rose and fell rapidly against her back and David was crouched in front of her, his head bleeding a little bit.

"What happened? What was that?" Ron asked from behind her. That was when Hermione noticed Lavender standing just behind David, her hand over her mouth as silent tears fell from her eyes.

She coughed as she registered her mate's question. "Hermione was lost in a memory," she whispered.

Hermione felt Ron stiffen behind her and buried her head in her hands. She was mortified that Lavender and Ron had been here to witness one of her major breakdowns. They didn't happen very often, but when they did it was bad.

"Holland?" she asked, her eyes snapping to her Alpha as she recalled her injured pack mate.

David sighed, "he's fine. His ribs are already healing. Marcus and Tully are tracking the Omega; your spell burnt him pretty bad but I doubt we'll find any sign of him and I'll have to have the pack run patrols." He moved closer to her, moving her hair out of her face, "are you okay, pup?"

Hermione wanted to nod, to assure him she was fine. But as she looked into her Alpha's eyes, she knew she couldn't lie to him. She shook her head as her eyes watered and she let out a pitiful sob. She wasn't okay. Ten years had gone by and she thought she was finally passed it all but she wasn't even close.

She didn't remember the walk back through the woods; David holding her in his arms like a child. Nor did she really recall Lavender helping her change and giving her a potion to help her sleep.

She would barely remember the dream she would have; a dream that was so much more. A dream that was a memory.

Hermione was slowly creeping down the stairs of Grimmauld Place, cringing every time her foot fell on a board that would let loose an eerie creak. When that happened, Hermione would freeze. She would hold her breath as she listened for anyone who shouldn't be awake at this hour before she continued her slow descent down the stairs.

Finally, she made it to the bottom and quickly hurried towards the kitchen. Hermione needed a strong cup of tea; she was finding it hard to sleep, her dreams turned nightmares as everything that happened last year plagued her. It was when she had seen Harry leaning over Cedric's dead body that she had gasped awake, worried that she might have woken Ginny up only to see the redhead sleeping soundly in the bed across the room.

She knew she wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon; knew it was unlikely she'd get back to sleep at all. Hermione didn't know how Harry handled having nightmares as regularly as he did; she was still trying to get over the nightmares she had of the Dementors from her third year and the Basilisk from her second year.

Shaking her head, she quietly snuck into the kitchen, not bothering to actually check if anyone was in the room as she made her way over to the cupboard to find the tea she had seen Mrs. Weasley putting away earlier.

"Shouldn't you be asleep, kitten?"

Hermione jumped, covering her mouth to muffle the startled scream as she turned to see an exasperated Remus and an amused Sirius sitting at the kitchen table. Even with Remus glaring reproachfully at Sirius, Hermione didn't miss the small twitch of his lips as he resisted the urge to smile. "Uh," she said dumbly, her mouth opening and closing in a very close resemblance of a fish out of water.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Remus asked softly, his eyes looking her over and taking in her haggard appearance.

She nodded before she saw Remus giving her 'the look' and felt her whole body slump. "It was just a nightmare," she muttered, feeling her face heat up as she said it. She refused to look at either man and was more than happy when someone else entered the kitchen.

Her blonde hair was up in a messy bun, the blue tips peeking out here and there. A large, Holy Head Harpies jersey drowned her body, hanging off her shoulders and falling to her knees. She didn't seem to notice them, much as Hermione had done, as she snuck over to a small cupboard in the corner of the kitchen.

Hermione saw Sirius smirk as the occupants of the room heard the woman humming a spy tune out loud as she reached into the cupboard and pulled out a block of chocolate.

"Well, Moony," Sirius began, "at least we know who's been taking all your chocolate."

Like Hermione, the woman jumped at the sound of Sirius' voice; however, unlike her, she was unable to muffle her startled shriek as she turned around with wide, Bambi-like eyes. "Holy Merlin, Sirius!" she breathed, "are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?!"

"Language, Cassie," Remus scolded gently, pointedly looking at Hermione who had been watching the exchange with a small, amused grin.

"Remy," Cassie whined, "Hermione goes to a school with hundreds of other teenagers; I'm sure she's heard someone cuss before." Cassie leaned over and covered the side of her face to hide it from the two men as she whispered, rather loudly, to Hermione. "Ignore him, Mia," she said, "you know what old men are like."

Hermione giggled as she saw the incredulous glare Remus was sending Cassie and the reproachful one he sent Sirius when he heard his best friend chuckling lowly. Her giggling stopped and her face flushed when Sirius looked over at her and winked.

When things settled down, and Cassie had convinced Remus to share his chocolate with her, Hermione had made herself a cup of tea and had sat at the table with the three adults as Sirius and Cassie reminisced about their times at school.

She was completely unaware of when she fell asleep or how she had gotten from the kitchen to her bedroom when she woke up the next morning.

Hermione was sitting at her kitchen table with a steaming mug of tea cradled between her hands as she thought about the dream she had just woken up from. She still couldn't believe she had slept through the rest of yesterday and last night.

Cassiopeia Devereux had been one of the many to fall in the final battle. She had been a brave Auror and high-ranking Order member. She and Tonks had attended Hogwarts together, an unlikely friendship that seemed to flourish. Cassie had been a Slytherin but she had proved that not every witch or wizard to enter that house was bad. Cassie had her own chapter in the most recent edition of Hogwarts: A History and had been one of the few idles the Weasley twins had had growing up. She and Tonks had come up with some of the most elaborate pranks, Snape being their unfortunate victim most of the time. Cassie had told her it had stemmed from a dislike for the man due to the way he had treated Tonks and other students in their time at school.

Tonks and Cassie were magically bound, sisters not through blood but something far stronger. When she was around Tonks they were as bad as the Weasley twins and when Bill, Charlie, Tonks, and Cassie got together everyone found something else to do out of the house that day.

"How are you feeling?"

Hermione jumped in her seat and flinched when her mug shattered along with the plates that had been drying on the counter. She mentally cursed herself for Merlin knew how long that she had stupidly suppressed her magic without researching the side-effects. She looked up and saw Lavender smiling sheepishly at her before she removed her wand and flicked it swiftly, the broken plates and mug fixing themselves.

"Sorry," Lavender mumbled as she moved to sit in front of Hermione, "are you feeling any better?"

She didn't want to talk about what happened yesterday but she also didn't want to be rude so she replied with a simple, "I'm fine."

The beautiful thing about this new Lavender was that she knew when not to push. At Hermione's answer, she nodded her head and went about making another pot of tea.

They sat in relative silence as they drank their tea, Lavender breaking the silence occasionally to talk to Hermione about trivial things. Hermione would nod and hum in reply but her mind was elsewhere as she took careful sips of her tea; relishing the slight burn before her Lycan blood would heal it and the pain would vanish. She was worried about Holland, she hadn't had a chance to go and check up on the pup since the accident and although her Alpha had assured her he was okay, Hermione needed to see it for herself.

Inside of her head, her wolf was restless for very much the same reason as Hermione. She wanted to check on their injured packmate and the longer Hermione sat at the table and drank tea, the more restless her wolf became. It shouldn't have been a surprise then, when her wolf suddenly managed to get control of their body.

"'Mione?" Lavender asked cautiously, watching as Hermione's hands tightened around the mug of tea as her nails grew into claws. The younger woman watched in growing concern and awe as Hermione's eyes flashed gold and a primal power filled the room. "'Mione?" she tried again, her voice barely a whisper as she looked at the semi-transformed werewolf sitting in front of her. She prayed to Merlin that Ron wouldn't wake up now, Lavender had no idea how much of Hermione was still in control and how much was the wolf.

Her head snapped to Lavender who immediately tilted her head to expose her neck when she heard the older woman growl. Hermione was beside her in a moment and it took every ounce of self-control to keep herself from shrieking at the sudden movement. Lavender tried to control her breathing as Hermione continued to growl lowly at her. She whimpered and tilted her head more, exposing more of her neck in a sign of submission.

Lavender cried out in surprise when Hermione sunk her sharpened teeth into her neck. She gave a full body shiver when she felt something inside of her snap into place and watched as Hermione recoiled slightly at the sound before she stuck her head back into the crock of Lavender's neck, licking the wound until it closed. She nuzzled Lavender's cheek with her own in apology. Lavender closed her eyes and nuzzled back before Hermione was suddenly gone and she was left there to wonder what the hell had just happened.

Hermione, on the other hand, had run from the cottage as fast as she could; sniffing the air, she turned in the direction that smelled the most like her injured pup. She howled into the air as she ran and her wolf hummed when another howl answered her before she ducked into the forest. The scent of her pup was close and Hermione skidded to a halt out front of a decrepit looking house in the middle of a clearing.

Her head cocked to the side; she eyed the house incredulously. There was no way this was where her pup lived; there were no windows and the door looked like it was barely holding on. But it smelled like him and she could hear his heart beating furiously inside as he whimpered. The scared sound had her running into the house with inhuman speed as she practically appeared out of nowhere in the room he was sleeping in.

He was curled up in the corner of the room, his body shivering from the cold even with his heightened temperature. His face was pinched and tears fell from his eyes, staining his dark skin, as he tossed slightly. Hermione stepped forward cautiously, her head still tilted as her gold eyes brightened. She kneeled before the pup and the salty scent of his tears invaded her nose. She could smell his distress and it stirred something inside of her; the need to take care of the lonely pup was strong and Hermione found herself lying beside him.

She placed an arm under his head and reached across his waist before she pulled him closer to her. The pup whimpered again and she growled lowly; it was a growl that held nothing but protectiveness and concern as she pulled him flush against her body. His whimpering died down as his head found her neck and he buried his nose at the juncture there where her scent was strongest. His arms moved, one wrapping around her waist and the other placed between their joined bodies as his hand fisted the fabric of her top. She placed her body between the sleeping pup and the door, protecting him from anyone who might enter that night as she continued to growl lowly.

The wolf found the witch and showed her the image of the pup and the house he currently resided in and watched as her eyes widened before they saddened. This is unacceptable, she told the witch lowly, her eyes flashing brighter in her anger.

I agree, the witch replied and not for the first time, the wolf was proved that she had chosen correctly with her human counterpart.

Tomorrow, she assured the witch, tomorrow we shall help our pup.

The witch didn't reply but she could feel her agreement before she fell quiet and she turned her own attention back to the still pup sleeping soundly against her. Their combined warmth kept the cold at bay and she pulled him impossibly closer as the steady rhythm of his heart lolled her to sleep.

It had been a long time since Holland woke up without feeling cold. It would have been before he had been turned; before his parents had kicked him out and told him never to return for something he couldn't control. He moved closer to the source of his warmth before he stiffened and tried to scramble back. A low warning growl had him freezing in his spot as he looked up with wide eyes to see Hermione looking down at him, her eyes glowing brightly.

Holland had rarely seen a wolf in control of their human body when it wasn't a full moon but the sharp canine, the claws, and the glowing eyes were an obvious sign that Hermione wasn't currently in control. Not only that, but the smell of earth that accompanied all of their pack members was stronger at the moment. Beneath it, however, Holland could smell something else and his wolf keened at the smell. It smelt like warm milk and honey and it made Holland feel safer than he had ever remembered feeling. The smell was comforting and made him move closer to the she-wolf.

His actions seemed to make the she-wolf happy because her growling stopped and she chuffed lowly as she smiled softly at him. He moved back into her arms and felt himself tear up when she wrapped her arms around him protectively. His mother used to do the same thing when he was little and frightened of the monsters under his bed; of course, that was before he had become the monster. He couldn't remember the last time he had been hugged like this; sure, Kathy always smothered the pups of the pack in hugs, the woman having natural maternal instincts. But it felt different with Hermione, his wolf was calling for her in a way it hadn't done to anyone else in the pack.

It wasn't romantic. If Hermione were to be his mate, Holland would have recognised it by now. This was something else, something more. He could feel the bond forming between them as she ran her fingers through his short black curls as the other hand ran up and down his back, making him relax against her and keen lowly.

Her head was buried in his neck a moment later and Holland could feel her teeth against his skin. She hesitated and Holland's wolf urged him to grant her permission for what she was trying to do. He didn't have a pack mark yet; David never marked new pack members until they had been with them for at least a year and agreed to it. Pack marks gave the alpha power over the beta, power that could be dangerous if the Alpha misused it.

Holland tilted his head, exposing his neck to her more, accepting the silent request. He bit his tongue as her teeth bit into his flesh but couldn't keep his body from stiffening. Holland heard Hermione whine lowly but kept her teeth in his neck long enough for the bond to establish before pulling out and licking the wound closed.

He felt Hermione through the newly established bond but it was the third bond that confused Holland. He hadn't even been aware that Hermione was an Alpha; the only one in a pack capable of marking members outside of Mate Marks and Transformation Marks. Holland wasn't familiar with how Alphas came to be other than that one could become the Alpha of a pack if they defeat the previous Alpha. He was aware there were other ways but only Alphas seemed to know what those were and kept them close to the chest.

"Sleep, pup," Hermione rumbled, her head still buried in his neck as she tightened her grip around him, "we'll talk once you get more rest."

Holland didn't argue with her, already feeling the fatigue from the energy it took for the bond to properly solidify, his eyes closing as his wolf purred in contentment; knowing he was safest in his Alphas arms.

Changes to this chapter:

+ Spelling and grammatical errors have been corrected.

+ Ending of the chapter has been changed from the original. Originally, this chapter had Cassiopeia Devereux seemingly coming back from the dead. However, after thinking over this considerably, I've come to the realisation that the reason for her survival that I had originally decided on wasn't logical even in the HP world. Cassie will still have mentions in this story but it will all be from the past as I have decided to keep this specific OC dead.

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