A/N: I have zero self control. This immediate follow up chapter is courtesy of lavonnallama, who egged me on.

Chapter Two

July 18th, 1981
Forest of Dean

Hermione knew it was a risk to reveal his nickname, but she did not have time to barter with Remus over the desperate need to get away from the other werewolves—all of whom were thankfully too busy laughing or growling to pay any attention to her whispers, likely brushing them off as pleas for freedom. She had been resigned to death, even after everything she had already been through, once Greyback had locked the chain around her neck. She knew what Greyback did to women, and she would let herself die rather than suffer the beast to be inside of her.

At least . . . that was what he was known to do in her time.

Seeing Remus there amongst the wolf pack was a light in the dark. Not only did she realise that she could figure out a way to be freed of Greyback, but it helped to pinpoint the year in which she had been dropped. Remus was undercover, which meant that they were in the middle of the first war, likely either 1980 or 1981. She hoped she still had time. The weather indicated that it could either be spring or summer, depending on their location. That boded well as long as she and Remus could escape.

The way that the other men were leering at her, however, said that they might need to fight. She had originally thought she was to be executed for killing the werewolf that had bitten her. It was just her luck that the Time-Turner had thrown her into the past, on a full moon, in the middle of a forest where werewolves were hunting. Thankfully, she'd had her wand on hand and was able to fight back. Unfortunately, she was only able to take down the one wolf that attacked her before another snatched her wand from her hand, snapping it in its jaws. What little wandless magic she knew, she used to set up wards to keep from being mauled to death. The wards had only lasted until dawn, and by then she had lost too much blood and could not keep Greyback and his henchmen away.

Stripped of her clothes, she was dragged through the forest, clutching at the chain around her neck and screaming the entire way. If they were going to take her, she was going to go down fighting. Hermione Granger would not be killed quietly.

Now, however, she might not need to die at all. While she had never once thought of Remus Lupin as anything but a professor—and then later a friend and respected fellow soldier in the Order—she felt a comfort in touching his bare skin. Safe. She knew she was safe in his arms, even while the other werewolves around him stared at her like they wanted to fight or fuck just to see how she would react.

Remus stared at her in shock. She held his gaze, her eyes pleading with him silently to say yes to afford them a moment before she was handed over to another man instead of him. She would do her damnedest to fight her way out of the pack, but it would be much easier with his help.

"If . . ." Remus hesitantly began, turning away from her to look at Greyback. "If I say yes, can I take her to the river to bathe? I . . ." He swallowed hard, his mouth having gone dry. "She smells like the others, Kurt especially. It's off-putting."

Greyback chuckled darkly. "Keep in sight. If you think about running off with her without properly mating her, I'll have her dragged back to the pack, and she'll be shared by everyone before being torn apart. Is that understood?"

Hermione could not stop herself from shuddering.

With a look of approval from Greyback, her chain was passed into Remus's hand, and he led her out of the circle, an arm draped protectively around her shoulders. When two men refused to part to let them through, Remus snarled, a sound that Hermione had certainly never heard from his older counterpart. Properly reprimanded, the two men jumped to the side, and several people behind them applauded, laughing.

Silence followed them all the way down to the river, and Hermione fell to her knees, cupping the water in her hands and drinking deeply. She finally let herself sob when she began washing her body, scrubbing her hands over every place that Greyback had touched her. Hissing when the water came into contact with her bite wound, she stopped her actions as the weight of her circumstances settled on her. "I'm a werewolf."

"I'm so sorry," Remus whispered, genuinely grieving for her.

She pivoted in the water, suddenly very aware of her nakedness now that she was clean. Crossing her arms over her chest, Hermione shivered in the cold water. She looked up at him, surprised when he brandished a wand and cast a Warming Charm over her body. "Greyback allows you a wand?"

Remus sighed, looking down ashamedly. "I'm . . . special," he said, his tone filled with disgust. "Who are you?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Did . . . Were you sent here for me? Did James or—"

"James Potter," Hermione said with a small smile as the weight of the timeline truly settled in her mind. "He's alive."

Remus's featured softened, and he beamed at her. "He is? You're certain? I haven't heard word in—"

"I . . ." She paused after interrupting him, surprised that she had uttered her revelation aloud. "This is going to sound absolutely mad, but . . . what year is it?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Year? Month too, if you please." She stood up, still feeling a touch awkward to stand in front of him naked. She had lived in a tent with Harry and Ron for months prior to the battle at Hogwarts, and all three had long since lost all sense of shame when it came to the naked form. The years that followed Hogwarts's destruction only cemented the need for convenience over propriety. Then again, Remus had not been with them, had he?

Thankfully, he kept his gaze on her face. The dumbstruck expression he wore said that he was focused on her words rather than her breasts, which was fine by her considering this was hardly the time to be thinking inappropriate thoughts. Especially since, to her, Remus Lupin had been dead for over a year now. The sudden reminder knocked the breath out of her, and Hermione clutched at her chest, her mind drifting to everyone that they had lost in the war.

When she gained control of her emotions once more, she returned her attention to the man still gaping at her as though she were mental. In an attempt to get him to focus, she snapped her fingers as she spoke. "Remus. Year. Month. Please."

"July of 1981. Do you mean to imply that you—"

"Time travelled," Hermione said. "Quite right." When he snorted in disbelief, she raised a challenging eyebrow at him, not amused. "July of 1981. Harry's birthday is coming up, isn't it? And I suppose this means that you've been spying for the Order for over a year, maybe more? And where is Padfoot? Surely, not in the Shrieking Shack; not anymore. Not without you and Prongs. I can call them Padfoot and Prongs, can't I? I know I'm not an Animagus or a Marauder, but I wonder if I solemnly swear that I am up to no good, if you'll . . ." She trailed off, smiling at the pale look of shock that had come over him. "Let me guess? Even in dire situations, your friends wouldn't give up that many secrets? Don't faint on me, Remus. I'm here to help. Actually, I'm here because of an accident, but I want to help regardless."

Shaking his head, Remus began to pace. "This is . . . This is . . . I can't . . ."

"You look nice, by the way. Young, I mean," Hermione said with a friendly smile. "Of course, I always did like you with grey hair. I always thought it was distinguished."

His eyes widened further, and he made a strange, squawking noise. "G-Grey? B-But I . . . You . . . Where, er, when have you come from?"

Hermione sighed, glad that he was over his crisis. "August 2000. My friends and I, those of the Order that survived the war up to that point, were trying to end it. Again. Trying to end Voldemort. I'd found a ritual that was meant to summon him. We placed ourselves in three separate locations, places where important moments of the war had taken place and Voldemort suffered a temporary defeat. It would have worked with more people, but . . . there's not many of us left," she said with a frown. "The ritual needed to be timed correctly, and if successful, it would have summoned him simultaneously to all three locations."

Remus blinked rapidly, his mouth falling open. "That would essentially splinch him three ways."

She smiled sadly, tears pricking at her eyes. "That was the hope. We tried fighting honourably and fair. People die when you play fair. Unfortunately, before the ritual could be completed, my Time-Turner pulled me away. It wasn't with me when I arrived here, which means that one of my friends has done something irreversible. The Time-Turner I had was connected to two others. It was a way that my friends and I could stay together, even if we altered events. When one of us used a Time-Turner to travel, it would pull the others back to the specific date and hour as well. We'd only been able to go back six months until recently.

"After Hogwarts fell and Death Eaters overwhelmed our numbers, we retreated. We had no choice. We infiltrated the Ministry to steal records of Muggle-borns, as well as anything they might use against us. I went to the Department of Mysteries, which was how we found the devices. Along with them were instructions for how to travel back years. We'd talked about doing it, but realised that it would have to be a worst case scenario, as the notes we found in the Unspeakable's desk where we discovered the Time-Turners said that the devices had not survived trips longer than ten years. They vanish into thin air, leaving the people they take trapped with them. I have no idea how they were able to record such information and still work on them, but I don't try to waste my time trying to think like an Unspeakable."

Remus held out his hand when she stepped out of the river, helping to balance her so that she did not slip on any of the rocks. "Thank you," she said with a soft smile. "Sorry. I can't imagine what your mind must be going through right now. It's a bit of an information overload."

He nodded, running a hand through his hair nervously. "Right. So, does this mean your friends have come with you? Other Order members from your time? Where are they?"

"I imagine wherever they were in 2000," she replied. "This is the Forest of Dean? Correct? Or near enough?" When he nodded again, she sighed in relief. "Well, at least there's that. I don't know what caused either of them to turn back as far as they did. This was the plan, of course. In the hopes of stopping the war before it got extremely bad."

"The war doesn't end? In . . . In 2000? My God. Twenty years." Remus scrubbed his hands down his face. "What are we even fighting for?"

She placed her hand on his shoulder. "We're fighting for our lives, Remus. We're fighting because our world deserves a chance. I've been fighting for hope, and a bit of vengeance, I'll admit. But now, I'm going to fight like hell to stop people from dying. We need to get out of here. Can you Disapparate with both of us?"

Frowning, Remus shook his head. "Whenever the pack stops to make camp, Greyback puts up Anti-Disapparation Wards. Only a few of us are allowed a wand, and I wouldn't be able to take them down on my own."

She frowned. "Where do the wards end? Could we make a run for it?"

"Miles," Remus said sadly. "I . . . I don't even know where the points are. I'm special but not trusted. Especially now with a woman. We'd be spotted before we made it very far. Greyback wasn't bluffing when he said that . . . You would be in danger. It's why he tried to, well, hand you off as quickly as possible. Once you're connected to the pack, it would be pointless to escape. Even if I gave you my wand, and you made it past the barriers, you wouldn't survive."

Hermione snorted. "I have years of healing expertise, Remus. I know how to treat a bite wound and—"

"No," he said, interrupting her, "you don't understand. What do you know of werewolves?"

Challenged, Hermione lifted her chin. "More than most, less than the average werewolf, I suppose. They are quite a secretive bunch."

"We," he corrected her. "We are a secretive bunch. And there's a reason. Your magic has been infected, and you need an anchor. Another wolf. The bitten are anchored to their maker, or a female wolf if the maker doesn't want to claim responsibility for them if they're too young. Females are given to other wolves to . . . breed. Claim."

Her mouth fell open in shock as the dire consequences of her actions became very obvious. "But that's . . . That's for life! I can't . . . Remus, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to pull you into something like this. I assumed we could escape together. Maybe . . . Can a female survive if they kill their mate? I've only read rumours about werewolf mating habits, but some say that the bond created could kill one if the other dies. Is that true?"

His brow furrowed a bit, and he stepped away from her cautiously. "No, that's just a rumour. As for killing me, I should say that—"

"What?" She looked at him, confused. "You? What? No! I meant, I could go back and have Greyback give me to someone else. One of those other wolves that were slobbering," she said, cringing. "If I could survive the claiming long enough to kill him, I could make a run for it when the pack moves next, right?"

"Miss . . . umm—"

"Hermione," she reminded him.

"Hermione," Remus said, awkwardly running his hand through his hair again. "The claiming. It's a rite that happens to involve . . . umm . . . biting and . . . well . . ."

"Sex."

He raised a brow at her. "With a werewolf," he clarified.

"Well," Hermione said with a heavy sigh, "it's not as though I have any right to be judgemental seeing that I'll soon be one myself. Besides, I've slept with a werewolf before. You're not scaring me." She glanced over his shoulder to see a few of the others looking on from afar. "I'm a bit disgusted. Do you think I could ask them to bathe first?"

"Are . . ." Remus began, colour tinting his cheeks. "In your . . . Where you're from . . . werewolves are . . . I mean to say, it's commonplace to be . . . You've had a relationship with one before? We're . . . normal?"

His worried but hopeful expression made her chest ache fiercely. Memories of an older Remus Lupin shaking and horrified over the idea of having impregnated Tonks. Memories of an older Remus Lupin shouting and pleading for them all to understand why it was foolish for anyone to love him because of what he was.

Hermione sighed and placed a hand on his cheek. "Not quite," she whispered. "But we could have made it better had Voldemort not taken over the Ministry. I'd planned on joining the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to fight for werewolf rights after I graduated Hogwarts, but that never happened. This time . . . Well, it will be a bit more personal, I suppose. Can they hear us?" she asked when she noticed some of the men getting a bit closer.

Remus shook his head. "Not after the full moon. Our senses get stronger before, but the days after, it's a bit like learning to use a limb again after Skele-Gro. Senses are a bit fuzzy in comparison."

"That's what I assumed," she said, relieved. "Are there any wolves that would take me that wouldn't hurt me so badly?" she asked, the weight of her situation pressing down on her. She would have to have sex with one of them, hope that she was not injured in the process, and somehow kill him before she could escape. Obtaining clothes between now and then was also on her list of things to do.

"I've already told Greyback that—"

"I can't do that to you, Remus," Hermione said, looking up at him sadly. "It's your whole life. You wouldn't be available to any other woman if—" He laughed, a self-deprecating chuckle that was far too bitter for her tastes. "You can find love. I've seen it. Granted, I don't know what changing the war will do, but I can't take that option away from you. Besides, you don't know me. It's not fair to you."

"My job in this pack is to get information to help defeat Voldemort. I agreed knowing that I might not survive it. I've been here for too long, watching too many people get hurt. With what you know about the future, you could stop this war. Right?" At her nod, he smiled. "Then I can't let you get hurt by the others. Some of them . . . They weren't good men when they were men, Hermione."

Frowning, Hermione thought very carefully about her options, her need for survival, and her need to find her friends. Remus was right, the war was more important. She briefly thought of Tonks and Teddy. Images of the beautiful Metamorphmagus lying dead on the floor of the Great Hall came to mind, and Hermione felt ill. Would it be better to not live through a war and lose a future love? And Teddy . . . He and Andromeda had been some of the first to be rounded up once the Ministry fell. Harry had experienced nightmares for months after finding out what had happened to them. Was it better to not exist than to die so young?

"I don't know, Remus," she whispered.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention. Their eyes met, and Hermione's mouth fell open as a small bit of magic shifted inside of her, pulling heat from her limbs down to the bite wound, radiating warmth there with a strangely comforting pulse. "What's that?" she asked softly, breaking her gaze from his to look at the mark.

Remus swallowed. "I . . ."

"Is she clean enough yet, Lupin!?"

They both jumped, surprised by the shout. Instinctively, Hermione curled against Remus's side to shield her body from the onlooker. Remus growled defensively, and she could feel the vibrations in his chest. Clearing her throat, she tried to adjust her posture, startled by the fact that she had no desire to pull away from him. "You should know," she whispered. "You had a family in the future."

He looked down at her, shocked. "I did? I . . . What happened to them?"

Lowering her gaze, she pressed her forehead against his chest and shook her head.

Remus let out a shaky exhale before clearing his throat. "We're almost ready," he shouted back to the other wolf. "Tell Greyback to have the little ones cleared off."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said quietly. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this. I just saw you and . . . I've missed you, Remus. I know you're not the same man I knew, but . . . I knew you could be trusted. You were a dear friend."

His heart beat hard against her skin as he pulled her tightly against him, hugging her close. She could feel him breathing deep against her hair. The warmth from her bite wound spread up her arm and across her chest. Her skin itched in a way that made her crave to scratch, but she had no idea how or where. "This being a werewolf thing feels . . . disconcerting."

"I'll take care of you. We'll get through this, and then . . . we'll get out of here once the pack starts moving. Greyback doesn't like to stay put for very long, and once the . . . claiming is done, he'll think I've finally come around. It wouldn't be unnatural for you to struggle in the adjustment, so it's a good excuse to lag behind the others. We'll go back to the Order, and tell them everything. We'll find your friends. Would I . . . You mentioned Padfoot and Prongs. Your friends . . . Are they—?"

Hermione smiled and looked up at him. "My best friend is Harry Potter."

Remus laughed, a bright smile crossing his face. "I'm going to meet a grown up Harry? Brilliant. James and Lily might faint, but I think that's amazing."

She laughed and then cleared her throat. "The umm . . . claiming. It's . . . I mean, I didn't see any tents or . . ." At the look on his face, Hermione's eyes widened. "It's in front of everyone, isn't it?"

Cringing, Remus slowly nodded.

Sucking in a breath to steel her nerves and summon her courage, Hermione squared her shoulders. "Right. Well. That's . . . awkward," she said, deciding immediately that she would not inform Remus that he had, at one point, been her professor. "Harry walked in on me once, and no one was pleased about it." Letting out a slightly nervous laugh, she asked, "And I imagine that foreplay is out of the question?"

Remus blushed. "Er . . . Yeah."

Nodding her head quickly, Hermione closed her eyes to drown out the noises coming from beyond the trees, where more men had gathered to gawk at and taunt them. "I can do this. I can do this. Just . . . Remus, will you kiss me?"

He frowned and cupped her cheek in one large hand. "I'm so sorry that this happened to you, Hermione. You're . . . You seem like a good person, and I would not wish this life, this curse, on anyone."

Letting out a soft sigh, she leant into his touch. "Well, I imagine I won't be alone, now will I?"

"I'll keep you safe," he whispered before brushing his lips against hers.