Author's Note: YOUR. REVIEWS. AHHH did they ever make me smile! Thank you to everyone for being so supportive of my first story. It's really encouraging. This chapter was trickier to write (especially because chapter 2 is my favorite), but I do hope you enjoy it (especially the nice bit of banter between our favorite pair at the end of the chapter). Just a reminder- this is a slowwwww burn. Feedback, constructive criticism, predictions, cries of outrage, and anything in between are always welcomed.

Between updates, I have been posting snippets of future chapters, mood boards, and chapter inspiration on my Tumblr (EndlessMoonChild). Check it out if you are interested.

Until the next update, my loves.

-EMC

Secrets of the Moon
Chapter 3

Hermione prodded the dark circles under her eyes gently with her fingertips and frowned at herself in the mirror. The sun had barely risen and already she wanted to curl back into her cozy bed and hibernate.

With a groan, she slathered on makeup to hide the evidence of her tumultuous sleep. Still, pressed powder was not enough to erase the blush-inducing images that lingered from her frenzied dreams; Muscled limbs wrapped around her. Lips trailing feather light kisses over soft skin. Nails scratching. Moonlight chases, and platinum hair reflecting the stars. Magic quivering in her veins.

Hermione shook her head to clear her thoughts. Can wizards read minds? She wondered, thinking anxiously of her meeting with Draco as she stepped into her heels and added the final details to her outfit.

Grabbing her briefcase, Hermione paused when she saw her open notebook. Lists of questions scribbled hastily onto the lined paper stared up at her. Last night, after she had drowned in a bottle of wine, she wrote down everything she wanted to ask Draco about her peculiar abilities. Remarkably, he was the only other werewolf she had ever met, and she could not stop the questions from spilling onto the page. How many of us are there? Do all wolves possess magic? Can I learn to control….

Now, however, as she stared at her many questions, they taunted her. They reminded her of another note, one that was hidden deep in the back of her closet, entombed in a safe.

Her biological mother had taken only moments to write just a few sentences to her, hastily scribbled, like an afterthought. Stay hidden, and safe. The note included no information about who she was, or why she was orphaned. No name, nor birth date. Nothing else was important, simply: Stay hidden, and safe.

Shoving her notes into the leather briefcase, she couldn't help but wonder if this was what her real mother was warning her against; A charming, wealthy man, with platinum hair, a sharp jawline, and penetrating silver eyes that seemed to really see her. Yet… Hermione massaged her temples and groaned.

Her curiosity was insatiable. But it was more than that. For the first time in her life, there was a possibility she wasn't alone, and the thought both terrified and electrified her. The magical outbursts and transformations she'd gone through entirely on her own were in many ways still haunting her. She always felt on the verge of chaos; never fully in control of herself.

We need him. A companion. A pack. Her inner beast pleaded. A teacher! Draco could answer her questions. The wild she observed in him was tightly contained, a wonderfully controlled fire staving off a snowstorm. And it called to her. During their entire meeting, her wolf had howled in her skull, begging her to stare back; Make him yours. Despite her fear of him, she craved surrendering to his gaze, and was nearly unable to resist her urge to breathe in his heady scent.

This could get us killed. We don't know him, Hermione chided her annoyingly present subconscious. There is a reason my mother hid me.

Until she knew she could trust him, she decided her best course of action was to ignore the unnatural. She was quite good at it, what with her years of practice. Ignoring Draco, whom she guessed would not dare show himself in front of - what had he called them? - muggles, couldn't possibly be more difficult than keeping her ability to turn into a wolf secret from her nosy mother. Hermione laughed to herself.

Her subconscious growled between her ears.

This is for the best, she conceded. It's safest.

Roughly shoving her notebook into her bag, Hermione made her way to work.

By the time Hermione arrived at the law firm, her stomach was tied in knots and her mind was racing. The thought of sitting across from Draco made her so flustered in fact, that she nearly knocked her father over as she stormed down the hall to her office.

"Good morning, princess!" Her father greeted, gripping her shoulders to steady her. "I noticed on your calendar that you are meeting with the Malfoy boy today. Odd folks, aren't they?"

You have no idea, she bitterly thought, not bothering to give her father more than a half nod. But then again, so am I.

Hermione kept her office cold; her body tended to run warmer than non-wolves. It also helped her from dozing when the hours stretched and the quiet became too stifling. Today though, with so much on her mind, Hermione paced restlessly, tidying up her already pristine office.

Some time later, a light tap of knuckles on solid wood broke her from her trance.

"Good morning, Hermione," Draco's low voice caressed her. "I brought you coffee and tea." He gracefully strolled into her office like he owned it, placing two paper cups on her desk. "I didn't know which you prefer, and-" he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket, "there are options for tea."

At the sight of the different packets - earl grey, green tea, and English breakfast- Hermione sucked her teeth. "I'd prefer if you call me Ms. Granger," she tartly replied, keeping her arms crossed. She didn't trust her wolf instincts, which were screaming at her to touch his skin. This was going to be more challenging than she anticipated.

Looking at him with disdain, she noticed Draco's eyes pass coolly over the room before he assessed the open door. His eyes sparked devilishly, and he pulled out what she assumed was a wand.

A real wizard's wand. That he was waving. In her office.

The door gently clicked shut, and the paper cups moved seamlessly across the table toward her, all without the guidance of his touch.

Hermione's jaw went slack, and she muttered, "Oh, bloody hell." It was hard to ignore the tingle in her blood at the sight of magic.

Draco elegantly plopped into the leather sofa across from her desk. "Care to have a seat?" He proposed with a mischievous smile that could only be described as wicked.

Hermione inhaled deeply to calm herself and sat opposite him. "I know what you're doing, and I assure you it won't work with me."

Draco's eyes twinkled, and his lips quirked up in a way that made Hermione's heart flutter. "What is it that I'm doing?"

"You're provoking me into asking about our unfortunate meeting in the woods, and," Hermione waved her hand haphazardly towards the cups and the door, "I will not partake in talking about whatever that was during our time together."

Draco frowned. "You're not even a little curious?"

Yes! Please!

"That's not the point," Hermione nearly hissed. "I've worked extremely hard to appear normal and I will not have some stranger jeopardize that. This is my place of work and I'd very much appreciate it if we remain on task." Hermione clicked the pen in her hand and pressed it to a piece of paper. "Now, do you have any property documents you wish to show me. I don't have all day."

"I know you don't, your secretary informed me of that yesterday," Draco commented dryly. "But I am yours for the next hour, Ms. Granger, and I am paying top dollar for your time." Again, he flicked his wand, and two scrolls of parchment seemed to appear from thin air.

Her lips pursed tightly at the marvelous display of magic, but she ignored it and gingerly grabbed the old documents. "You're paying me to discuss and review this case, nothing more, Mr. Malfoy."

The smell of old parchment elicited thoughts of forbidden libraries, and the elegant scrawl captivated her. She was very aware of Draco's steady heartbeat, and unwavering gaze. His crisp, masculine scent distracted her, and the parchment trembled between her fingers. He was so similar to his wolf; tall and lean, yet broad and capable. There was a majestic gracefulness in his movements, and his innate authority carried within the primal growl of his voice. His eyes sparkled with the same intelligence they had in the forest, restless in their analysis of everything around him.

"These documents are certainly…unusual," she said finally, unable to understand the old language. "Is this all you have?"

Draco moaned in frustration and tugged his hair. "You really have no desire to know?"

Hermione peered over the top of the parchment and met Draco's irritated glare. "Know what?"

"Know who you are," he demanded frostily. "Clearly Mr. Granger, a human muggle, is not your real father. And clearly you've been hiding. Hell, you're a witch, and you act as though you've never seen magic."

"A... a witch?" Hermione stuttered with a sharp snort. "That's impossible."

"What's impossible is that you haven't literally exploded before now," he said in his most condescending tone. "I felt it yesterday, when you touched me. You're a witch, Ms. Granger."

"I am not," Hermione gritted out through bared teeth. A prodding in her mind reminded her she was lying only to herself. Hermione knew she was different, but she had never heard it vocalized before now. Her heart rate soared, and her frustration bubbled dangerously against her bones.

Draco leaned forward, placing his elbows on her desk. "Oh, but you are!" He scoffed. "And what's worse is that someone who seems so intelligent- "

"Stop speaking-"

"-would be such a fool to deny her true self-"

He's trying to help us! Her subconscious pleaded loudly, deafeningly. Listen! Listen! Liste-

"Mr. Malfoy, enough of this utter nonse-"

"And for what? You're obviously differ-"

Hermione slammed her hands against the desk, "I am not a witch! And we will not discuss this any further!"

Several textbooks flew off her bookshelf and landed heavily on the floor with a resounding bang that rendered them silent, save for their labored breathing.

Draco's jaw relaxed after a moment, and his expression became unreadable. He slowly removed himself from her desk."Does that happen often?"

Hermione remained silent, focusing on subduing her heavy breathing. The thrumming of her heart and the fire in her veins caused her wolf to fully awaken, and she closed her eyes to calm her senses. Breathe. In….out…

Eyes still closed, she muttered, "It used to. I've learned to keep my emotions..." She shook her head rigidly.

Draco waited patiently for her, and when she finally opened her eyes, his sympathetic gaze was filled with a mixture of wonder and worry.

"When I was a young child," he slowly whispered, "my mother took my broom away after I chased a house-elf with it, and I was so furious," he chuckled with a faint smile, "I caught her hideous 16th-century curtains on fire. It was then I learned the importance of emotional control for people like us."

Hermione's cheeks burned, but her heart clung onto every word Draco was speaking. Us. People like us. "I've never met anyone who was like me before."

Draco sat in silence for a moment, unable to form words, and Hermione could see, in the wrinkles forming between his brow, the pain that momentarily radiated through him.

"Don't," she demanded.

"Don't what?"

"Pity me. Do I look as though things turned out horribly for me?"

"No, but there is a whole piece of your life that you are not living," Draco exclaimed, exasperated at her cool demeanor, and unwillingness to learn more.

Hermione clicked her tongue. "I wouldn't know."

"Wolves need a pack. We need protection. How have you managed, all these years?" His eyes widened suddenly. "Your first transformation, were you alone?"

"What do you think?" Hermione sarcastically replied.

Draco opened and closed his mouth several times, thoroughly flabbergasted.

Just great, Hermione thought. He thinks I'm a freak.

"Listen, just forget it, Draco. Our meeting is nearly half over, and we haven't discussed the case. You already think I've failed at my life. I will not fail at my job as well." She cleared her throat. "Now, tell me more about the deed to your estate."

"Hermione, I-"

She lifted a delicate finger and glared fiercely. "Not another word, or I'll end this meeting."

Draco hummed a note of displeasure through his clenched jaw. "Fine. But we will talk about this at some point." Hermione shivered at the promise, and she briefly remembered the unyielding snowy wolf she had met in the forest

"Ms. Granger," her name rolled off his tongue, "there are some things I didn't want to discuss in front of your father. A family friend of ours, and our neighbors, the Nott's, were recently forced into selling a large portion of their land for government use as well."

"To build the pipeline?"

"That's what they were told," Draco frowned. "But not even three months later, there is new construction already developing on the land, and access is limited. To my knowledge, it would be illegal for them to begin a project like this without having purchased all the land they need."

Hermione brought her finger to her mouth. "It's not illegal, per se, though it would indicate they feel your land is as good as sold. How do you know about the construction if access is restricted?"

"It's safest to access it in wolf form, to avoid detection. On the night of the full moon, I'll show you."

"That's not until next week. Are you available sooner?"

Draco's eyebrows pulled into the center of his forehead. "Not in a way that is inconspicuous, no."

"What do you mean?" Hermione questioned before she could stop the words from slipping off her tongue.

"What do you mean?"

Hermione remained silent and dropped her gaze. Embarrassment coloured her cheeks. This meeting would not answer her questions; in fact, it made her feel even more peculiar.

Draco's jaw fell open in realization. "Can you change at… at will?"

"Can't you?"

"No. No one that I know of can."

A heavy despair cascaded down into her chest and she sank lower in her chair. She was seated across from a goddamn werewolf wizard and she still felt like the freak.

"Oh," she whispered. Draco's expression of awe only made her more uncomfortable, like a sideshow at a circus. With his eyes so intently focused on her, she felt vulnerable, ugly compared to his biting perfection.

Despite Hermione's feelings of misery, Draco beamed in admiration. "I think you're a shifter- my mother was telling me about your kind but...there haven't been any alive for centuries."

"I see," Hermione choked. There were more questions stirring within than ever, but she doubted whether even Draco could answer them now. A familiar loneliness gripped her heart, and she swallowed the growing bubble of air pressing against the back of her throat. Tutting her tongue, she huffed, "Well, anyway, it's none of my concern, now is it? That isn't the world I belong to."

"Of course it is," Draco replied, tilting his head to catch her eyes. "It's your history."

They sat in silence for a moment, and Hermione twisted her pen between her fingers.

"Can I see you on the night of the full moon?" Draco tentatively asked.

Yes! Her mind screamed at her. It's our chance to learn who we are! Hermione bit her lip to keep her wolf at bay.

"Strictly business, of course," he said holding up his hands. "I want you to tour the boundaries of my land, and if there is time, we can inspect the Nott property."

For the case. For us! Please, please, please… She couldn't think straight under the incessant bombardment of thoughts and the tug of curiosity that overwhelmed her burdened heart.

"Alright, I'll consider it," Hermione stated cautiously. "But I warn you, I'm not above biting should I need to. And...well, I've never shifted around another," she admitted quietly.

Hermione observed Draco's cool demeanor slip for just a moment; that dreaded pity flickered across the smooth plane of his mask.

Draco shook his head slowly, contemplating. "What if we start with dinner first? At the Manor. You can see the wonders of magic. And we will discuss the case, of course."

"Dinner? Alone at your… Manor?"

"My family's Manor, but yes." He looked sly, as though he'd just won a round of chess. "I need you to trust me before you have claws. Besides, it'd be an entirely secret affair, that you could keep to you-"

She groaned. "Keep to myself, right," Hermione repeated his words from yesterday. "Have you never watched documentaries? Or the news? If I wanted to get kidnapped, or worse, that's how you'd do it. Lure me to your beautiful Manor, cook me dinner, and then you'd poison me and bury my body in your backyard, and no one would be the wiser, because I decided to go to dinner with a stranger at his Manor and keep it to myself."

Draco hid a smirk behind his fingers, grey eyes radiant. "Documentaries?"

"You know, serial killer dramas - like on the telly? Or Netflix?"

"Net-what? No, I can't say I've seen any." Draco crossed his legs and leaned back, a beautiful statue of devilish beguilement. "Though, you have a few things wrong. First, I wouldn't cook for you - our house elf will take care of that. Second, if I really wanted to kill you, I would not use poison... it's far too messy. Third, I'd never bury you in my backyard. I'd simply disappear your body, or transform it into a pebble and toss it in the woods."

Hermione's lip twitched, and she struggled to keep her glare in place. Her ego was ignited at his teasing. "A pebble? That's the best your magic can do?"

Draco laughed and Hermione felt warm chills caress her body at the melodic sound.

"Ms. Granger, I can't kill you. I need you to win this case, remember?" He taunted with a wink. "Please, will you join me for dinner?"

Run with him. Chase him in the moonlight. Her blood was pulsing with craving, singing for her to give in to Draco's request.

She sighed, torn by the one-sided promise she had with her long-gone biological mother. Stay hidden, and safe. Yet, the burden she held alone felt too heavy for her to carry anymore, now that she had a taste of what could be. "I don't kn-"

"You can charge me if you'd like," Draco waved his hand nonchalantly. "It'd be a perfect opportunity for you to study our land deeds and maps. I promise you'll be safe."

"When?" Hermione yielded.

"Does Thursday night work? I'll pick you up around 5 o'clock and escort you to the Manor."

Her eyes narrowed. "No, no. You will do no such thing."

"There is no other way onto the Malfoy Estate otherwise, unfortunately."

Now she was truly curious, and she chewed her bottom lip. "How is that possible?"

Draco simply shook his head and gave a knowing smile that roused her body.

Trust him, her lonely wolf cried. Hermione stared into his eyes, and there she found raw strength and ice, holding in a dangerous fire. But she also found tender edges and an honest curiosity that she had only ever seen before when she looked in the mirror.

"Write down your address," he commanded.

With hesitation, Hermione ripped off a piece of notebook paper and against her better judgment, wrote away her safe haven in the name of curiosity, in her quest to discover who she was. Even she did not have the mental fortitude to ignore the intensity of her own inquisitiveness. "I still don't understand -"

"You'll see Thursday night, Ms. Granger." Draco grinned, standing from his chair. His smoldering grey stare never broke from hers as he grabbed the small piece of paper from her fingers, warm skin brushing her faintly. He waved his wand and conjured the parchments off her desk. Hermione watched as he buttoned his suit jacket, and smoothed the edges of his hair back into place from where he had ruffled them in his frustration with her. His hair looked tantalizingly soft... Hermione finally forced herself to look away.

"Oh, one last thing," Draco paused at the door. "Do you happen to have a fireplace?"

Later that night, Draco loosened his tie and threw his suit jacket on the green leather chaise in his private study; long legs carried him quickly across the opulent room, toward the gilded fireplace. There, he sank into the sofa facing the flames and groaned. Despite what he felt was relative progress with the captivating she-wolf, he now had bigger challenges to tackle.

Hermione was a shifter; so rare they had not been seen for centuries. Worse still, according to the brief conversation he'd had with his mother, shifters were persecuted into extinction. Or, so everyone had believed.

Someone went through great lengths to conceal her, Draco thought.

Sighing, he conjured a firewhiskey and took a long sip. It could be dangerous for Hermione to reveal herself as a shifter to anyone. There was the possibility of her execution, or, the potential for a stronger wizard to use her unique abilities to their advantage. Her reluctance to share her secret was likely the only thing that had kept her out of harm's way all these years.

All alone. With no pack. Isolated, his subconscious growled. She had no experience with her own kind, and Draco knew that if she were revealed in the wrong way, or to the wrong people, she could be hunted like her ancestors before her.

Draco tugged his hair in exasperation.

Then, there was the conundrum of her dangerously uncontrolled magic. How could he possibly begin to teach her to reign in her power if she had no wand? Even if he could somehow manage to secure an unregistered wand - which as an ex-death eater, was just begging for a trip to Azkaban - he'd be setting her up to be a criminal before she'd even have a fair shot at truly living amongst the wizarding community. As an unregistered witch, she'd have to continue her existence in secret.

Which is no different than she is now, Draco thought angrily. But that's not what he wanted for her. He wanted her to be beside him, a pack member. And mate, his wolf added.

One thing was clear to Draco, as he drowned in the last drops of his firewhiskey, he'd need help. Someone he could trust. Someone who wouldn't take advantage of the situation for personal gain. It certainly couldn't be another werewolf - that was too risky given Hermione's lack of pack. No, it had to be someone powerful enough to secure her a wand legally, while also being trustworthy enough to keep her existence secret for the time being. Someone who had an in with the Ministry.

He bared his teeth and groaned.

Someone like Potter.