Hello again for the day!
I am way too excited to share this chapter with you lovely lot so I'm updating twice today. (Hopefully you won't hate me for tomorrow's chapter, I'll just say I'm sorry now, well in advance. I am sorry, and you shall all understand soon.) Here's to hoping that you all enjoy this chapter, I swear it will make sense soon, I swear.
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
For herondalefan, whose review practically made me cry (joyful tears I promise) xxx
Friday, July 9th, 1976
Potter Manor
It was a sticky night, humidity clinging to every inch of the Manor.
The waning Moon was bright and present in the sky, making her unwanted presence known—a hazel eyed girl was glaring up at the cold Mistress, arms folded, feet bare and dressed in a thin black nightie that brusher her mid thigh.
A tired voice piped up from across the room, "you're not still cross with me are you?" Remus asked, hovering in the doorway to Hermione's room, shifting back and forth uncertainly.
"No," Hermione responded curtly, refusing to look at him. "Not that cross anymore."
"Hermione, you can't stay angry at me forever," Remus said softly, finally making up his mind and stepping into the room.
Hermione's right eye twitched, she could do whatever she damn well pleased. Instead of informing him of this, she untucked her right hand from its position and sharply flicked her wrist and her bedroom door slammed shut, the sound rebounding throughout the house.
Hermione closed her eyes and exhaled carefully, and she found that some of her anger dissipated with expelled air. She didn't want to be angry anymore though, especially not at Remus.
Hermione angrily faced her boyfriend, whose eyes widened at the ire bottled up inside the petite witch that was radiating out of her in droves.
She crossed the room in seconds, hair sparking as she closed the distance between them.
Remus braced himself as if ready to be hit with a barrage of fists, but Hermione stopped a few inches away, her frame shaking with fury.
Which is why she supposed Remus was flabbergasted when she grabbed ahold of his face and her lips crashed against his; it had been too long, they hadn't even held hands since that fateful afternoon after their Defense examination.
Hermione clambered up his body, hands everywhere as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She needed him, she'd forgiven him weeks ago, but her stubborn streak had prohibited her from informing him of such.
Remus was cautious, careful at first, gasping softly into her mouth when she began to tear at his clothes.
Remus broke the kiss—his beautiful amber and gold eyes on full display—murmuring against her mouth, "Hermione, are you—"
"Stop talking," Hermione growled, fingers desperately working his shirt off of him.
"Okay," Remus whispered, claiming her lips roughly, forcefully tugging one of the thin straps down and off of her shoulder, his hand closing around her breast, moaning in surprise when his hand met soft flesh.
It had been far too long for both of them, which they both proved as they divested each other of their clothing: Hermione eagerly tore Remus's shirt off of him, and she bit his bottom lip when he ripped her nightie—it was one of her favourites after all.
It was if they couldn't get enough of each other fast enough, and Hermione swore under her breath, just then remembering to throw up locking and silencing charms.
Hermione clung to him as her back hit the wall, and she held fast when he drove into her, pulling back so she was looking him straight in the eye.
"Remus. The pack bond," Hermione said, eyes wide as he thrust forcefully into her once more.
Remus stilled almost instantly, "Hermione I told you already that I don't—"
Hermione dug her nails into his bare back, and snarled, "you aren't going to infect me, and we need to seal it. You're vulnerable if we don't, we're vulnerable."
It had been one of the only arguments that they could never resolve, Remus was afraid of infecting her—his stance resolute and unwavering on the matter.
"Hermione…" Remus said, voice filled with trepidation, and she pressed her lips against his gently—the rest of her anger hastily fleeing.
"We need to seal it Remus, please," Hermione practically begged as she clenched her walls around him.
His response was a low hiss, and the apprehension and fear in his eyes was palpable.
"I promise that it will be okay. We—We don't have to, if you really don't want to."
Remus stared at her, holding his breath and then he suddenly surged forward and claimed her lips, thrusting into her once more.
A thick sheen of sweat was covering both of them as they neared climax, and Remus's mouth hovered over her right shoulder, his hot breath bathing her skin.
"Please," the word fell from Hermione's lips as her head fell to the side to give him better access.
Remus thrust into her again and again until with heavy hesitation his teeth pressed into the flesh of her shoulder.
"Remus," Hermione breathed reverently, and then his teeth sank into her skin, piercing it—Hermione winced a bit at the pain, dragging her nails down his back as they moved furiously against each other.
Remus removed his mouth from her skin, eyes swirling with a multitude of emotions before she firmly pressed her lips against his once more—pouring all of her love for him into it.
The strings that tied them together were on fire, licking at their bodies before burrowing into them—magic was crackling and spitting all around them, a golden glow bathed across them. It was if their souls were ablaze as their pack bond cemented.
It was not long then before they both toppled over the edge together: sliding down onto the floor in exhaustion, holding each other.
Hermione saw the panic that began to built up in Remus's eyes and she shook her head vehemently, "don't do that Remus Lupin, just don't."
She ran her fingers through his hair, feeling complete: the pack bond now permanently intertwined with her magic.
"I feel—"
"Whole?" Hermione finished.
Remus nodded as he buried his face into the crook of her neck—on her left side, trembling slightly.
Hermione tightened her hold on him, and for a split second she thought to cast the contraceptive charm before recalling that she was already taking the potion—she had been since the first time they'd had sex.
Better safe than sorry, Hermione thought as she placed her hand on her lower abdomen, silently and wandlessly casting the charm.
She didn't know how long they stayed there for,but eventually they untangled themselves and Remus left: he didn't think it appropriate to sleep in her room alone in her family home.
Hermione had snorted at that, raising her eyebrows and giving him a wry smile.
"You know what I mean," Remus muttered, tugging on his trousers and gathering the remnants of his shirt.
"Course, love," Hermione had laughed, giving him a swift kiss before he left.
It was only after she climbed into bed and tucked herself under her thin lavender blanket, that something occurred to her, something that could be somewhat problematic.
Bollocks, Hermione thought, if the things she read were true then that meant…Hermione blew out a heavy sigh, tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.
Bird were chirping, singing jolly tunes for the summer as it swung in fully. The sunlight filtered in through the translucent curtains that were fluttering in the robust summer breeze—the scent of the vibrant flowers planted in Charlus's garden twirled into the room.
Hermione Potter and Remus Lupin were sitting at the end of the rather long Dining Room table—it was meant to seat at least sixteen—in the seats closest to the door. Hermione was wearing one of Remus's shirts and a pair of faded jeans, the ankles rolled up and her feet bare, her hair was thrown up messily on top of her head. Remus on the other hand was wearing a navy blue jumper—in spite of how warm it was—black trousers and he was wearing shoes.
Hermione leaned into Remus and he ducked his head to steal away a kiss, a lazy smile spread across Hermione's face and she found herself playing with the silver chain of the locket she'd given him.
Hermione and Remus were the first ones down for Breakfast: Remus had just handed Hermione the pitcher of orange juice when Sirius burst into the Dining Room.
Sirius was shirtless and that in itself was reason for both wix to raise their eyebrows.
Sirius jabbed his finger at his shoulder, his right shoulder—where a pale pink scar lay, the bright morning sun shone across his pale skin and gave the mark a silver tinge, "not that this isn't badass and cool, but why do I HAVE A BLOODY BITE MARK ON MY SKIN?"
Remus's jaw went slack as Hermione muttered under her breath, "shite." She was really hoping that part wasn't true.
When Werewolf pack bonds were sealed the mark appeared upon the flesh of all the members of the pack, not just the one to receive the bite.
Not even five seconds later James dragged a groggy and half asleep Draco into the room behind him, "does anyone want to tell me—" Whatever James was about to say died in his throat because he caught sight of Sirius's shoulder; he left Draco in the doorway and strode purposefully up to his best mate, examining the scar on his shoulder.
Draco yawned, eyes partially closed as he leaned against the door jamb, "what are you on about?"
"There's a bloody bite mark on my shoulder, and the same ruddy thing is on Sirius's shoulder is what I'm on about," James squeaked out, pointing his finger at Sirius's shoulder.
Hermione was intently focused on buttering her second piece of toast for the morning whilst her boyfriend shrank down in his seat, avoiding looking at everyone.
"A bite mark?" Draco asked, rubbing at his eyes as he followed James's finger: he blinked several times in confusion, brow furrowed, but then his eyes snapped open and his head swung in Hermione and Remus's direction.
"They sealed the pack bond," Draco said, eyes wide—he was certainly awake now: in a swift motion he tugged his shirt sleeve down his shoulder enough to see the skin there, and sure enough, the pack mark was there.
"But that means—" James brow knitted together, folding his arms over his chest—clearly trying to dredge up everything he'd read about Werewolf bonds from the recesses of his mind.
Draco lowered his gaze to his bare feet and apparently found great interest in the hardwood floor, remaining as silent as a grave.
Thick, impenetrable silence.
A few moments later Sirius appeared to have figured it out, that is if his rounded eyes and wicked grin was anything to go on.
"That means—" James started once more, but a brick of understanding smashed him in the face and his eyes widened in surprise.
"Moony, I suggest you run," Draco drawled, still looking at the floor.
Hermione opened her mouth as if to say something, but Remus scrambled out of his chair and slipped past James before he could register what was happening.
"James Harry Potter!" Hermione yelled as James sprinted after him. "Bloody hell," she said as she stood up, head toggling between Draco and Sirius, "aren't either of you going to do something?"
Draco raised his eyes to meet Hermione and he cavalierly shrugged his shoulders, to which Hermione scowled and stormed out of the room, raven hair flying out behind him. Sirius looked a bit unsure for a split second but then he said, "I need to go be Moony's knight in shiny armour before Prongs murders him."
Draco quirked an eyebrow at that, but in the blink of an eye Sirius had shifted into his animagus form, and with a loud bark he bounded after the others.
Draco was grateful Dorea and Charlus had stayed over at a friend's last night: it would have been quite the day if they had to explain why there was a Grim on the premises.
"YOU CHANGED INTO A STAG, JAMES? REALLY? OI! JAMES POTTER!" Draco heard Hermione screaming from outside, her voice getting farther away, it sounded as if they were heading in the direction of the Orchard.
A teeny, petty part of Draco wanted James to gouge Remus—if only a little—but then he smacked his cheeks. The fuck am I thinking? That's stupid, Moony is my best mate. Shame filled Draco for wishing ill on Remus, and in that same moment he felt the call of the pack as his Alpha's anxiety stained the intangible thread joining them all.
Before the bond had been something that faded in and out, the glow growing warmer during Full Moons and oft dulling slightly for the remainder of the month. Now it a constant, steadfast presence that did not intrude, more so it added to their magic, making them stronger, closer.
"Fuck it," Draco groaned, magic dancing across his skin as he too shifted, bluish silver eyes darting about as he bolted out of the house, following the scent of chocolate and parchment.
Paws let his tongue roll out of his mouth when he reached the edge of the Orchards, panting as he tilted his head to the side and took in the scene before him.
Padfoot was standing protectively in front of Remus and Paws could see a small tear in Remus's jumper on his right arm where one of Prong's antlers had clearly grazed him—Padfoot's fur was slightly damp around his hind leg.
The massive stag was shaking his head furiously, hoof pawing the ground as he readied himself to charge again.
A flash of reddish brown fur caught Paws's eye and he saw that the fox had been hidden by the large dog beside her, she growled lowly, her body lowered to the ground, preparing herself to pounce.
Paws had seen enough, he dug his paws into the warm grass as he bounded forward, diving straight into the fray, heading directly for Prongs—who was so focused on the others that he didn't have enough time to move out of the way—leaping and crashing into the side of the stag.
Paws knocked Prongs to the ground, but the stag wasn't a pushover, his head whipping around and one of his long antlers scratched across the wolf's pure white fur.
Paws let out a yelp as red began to seep out of the wound, blooming out of him and staining his fur.
"ENOUGH!"
Paws turned his head to see that Hermione had shifted back and was standing there, hands on her hips in rightful indignation—this was ridiculous after all.
It didn't take long for all of them to follow suit, and soon the five wix were spread out across the grass, panting heavily and staring at each other.
Draco pressed his hand onto his own wound, keeping firm pressure on it as the warm crimson stained his fingers.
"You're all being stupid and immature," Hermione said once she properly caught her breath, crawling over to Remus and Sirius to check their wounds.
James had the decency to look sheepish that he had acted so rashly, perhaps even apologetic, but he sounded quite cross when he said, "Moony defiled my pure sister, what did you expect me to do?"
Draco snorted, quickly examining his side before he glanced upwards once more, only to be greeted with an dark glare from Hermione.
Draco simply shrugged.
James's frown returned full force and he shifted so that he was sitting cross-legged on the ground, hands moving to grasp his shin.
Draco sighed, "It's sweet that you think Remus defiled Hermione and not the other way around."
"She is a fox after all," Sirius commented.
"And he's a wolf," James growled.
"Puppy dog every other day of the month." Draco said defensively, Remus is his best mate after all—Draco had no idea where his small-mindedness earlier had even sprouted from.
Draco's comment didn't appease James in the slightest, but with a heavy sigh the boy rubbed the back of his neck and said, "I'm sorry, I overreacted."
"I'll say," Hermione scoffed.
Draco slowly got to his feet, and James was up in seconds right beside him, face flooded with remorse.
James angled his head to look at Draco's wound, a low hiss escaping his lips as worry smeared its way across his features, "dammit. Sorry. C'mon, let's get inside and I'll put some dittany on that."
Draco nodded, leaning his good side against his brother, who helped him back to the Manor.
Minutes later James was fretting as he patched Draco up, continuing to apologise profusely, but Draco's mind was somewhere else. Lost in thought about pack bonds and how they were sealed.