December 4th

Though she could feel the heat of the fireplace just a few steps away, Hermione couldn't stop shivering. She wrapped the heavy blanket covering her tightly around her body hoping that it would help, but it didn't. Every part of her seemed to hurt. Nothing compared to her head. A throbbing, consuming pain still lingered. How much time had gone by since she ran from the Dower House? She couldn't be sure.

Already her body was lamenting the loss of the potion it craved. In the past when she was unfortunate enough to feel the effects of withdrawal, she would simply find another vial to take the edge off. It became habit. There was a very valid reason she kept vials hidden around her Hogsmeade home and why she had an entire secret drawer in her desk at the Ministry full. She couldn't bear to be without the potion for very long. Extended use made her body and her will weak. When she thought back to the past, to the awful, horrible things she'd done just to get her next fix, she was humiliated. She never wanted to fall into such a deep pit again. No matter what it took, she wouldn't allow herself to be beaten by an inanimate foe. Not again.

Memories of those weeks she spent living in Kingsley's flat just after running away from Hogsmeade crept up into her mind. Part of her didn't believe she would ever walk away from his flat. She was convinced that she was going to die in a puddle of her own vomit. It was nothing that she didn't deserve. She'd wasted her life and allowed herself to become an addict. No one forced the potions down her throat. No one, that is, until Rodolphus the night she ran away. Before, she didn't need much encouragement to swallow a vial or several. She desired and craved the nothingness she felt when it was present in her body. Would it be as bad as it was when she almost died under Kingsley's care? She wasn't sure that she had enough strength to go through that experience again.

Movement in another part of the room caught her attention. For the briefest of moments when she first regained consciousness, she'd forgotten where she was. In the midst of her pain and her fear when she ran away from Rodolphus' home, she could only think of one person that had never betrayed her, one person that had never made her worry that he wasn't fully on her side. Pulling the blanket down from her face just a little, she was able to see Fenrir Greyback stand up from his favorite armchair.

The terrifying werewolf made a gentle nurse. With a bright smile, he crossed the room to sit on the edge of the sofa. When she landed at his front door, he hadn't hesitated in carrying her inside out of the elements. No matter what happened next, she knew that he would remain on her side. It was sad really. All it took was treating the werewolf like he was an actual human being to make him eager to pledge his loyalty. How different would history have been if others had treated him with the same kindness and respect? Fenrir gently pushed some of her hair away from her sweaty forehead.

"You gave me quite a scare."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A day. It's nighttime again."

Seeing that she was still shivering Fenrir didn't waste another second covering her with another heavy blanket. He tucked in the fabric around her body to trap her body heat. She was glad she wasn't alone. For a long time she'd been feeling like she was all by herself, that no one was actually on her side. Whether or not that was true didn't matter. It's how she felt. Looking up in her old friend's smiling face and feeling the comfort of one of his softest jumpers on her body, Hermione was certain she made the right choice in Apparating to his little secluded cottage.

"What happened, Hermione? I've rarely smelled so much fear on anyone."

There was no doubt in her mind that she could trust her secrets to Fenrir. Maybe others who didn't know him or didn't know the truth of their years-long friendship might think she was daft or overly trusting, but she knew and that was all that mattered. The story of everything that had happened to her began to tumble off her tongue. She spared him no details. Everything from the spells that Rodolphus put in her mind, how she found out about them, and what he'd tried to do the previous night came out. Fenrir, to his credit, remained perfectly still and quiet even as she could see him growing steadily more angry. When she told him about forcing the potion down her throat she didn't want to drink and then brutally violating her mind again, his nostrils flared and he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"I'm going to fucking kill him."

"We can't, Fenrir. Not until we find out what he did to me."

"Is it just your overwhelming and incessant curiosity keeping you from ending him? Because I know you could do it in a heartbeat if you truly desired."

She appreciated his attempt to tease her in such a tense moment. Both of them needed the break. Rolling her eyes and chuckling, she was once again glad that she decided to forget the werewolf's past as a monster and treat him like a man. Even beyond the intense encounters they shared in exciting places like his bed or the Shrieking Shack, there was more to him than just the mindless monster he'd been accused of being for so long. The gentle feel of his hand continuing to brush her hair off of her sweaty face helped them both calm down after the terrible story she'd just shared.

"No, it's more than that. Though, of course, yes, I want to know what he did to me and why. What if the spell that Mr. Akingbade left inside my brain will activate at his death? It could be some sort of failsafe. Like, if Rodolphus was killed before he was able to complete his plan, maybe the charm that's in there will flip on and then I'll be the one that is left to carry it out. I could be dangerous and unpredictable."

"Or the spell could die with Lestrange. Which, honestly, is the more likely scenario."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Fenrir only laughed. Sometimes she hated how blunt he could be.

"I think you've read too many of those frightening novels you like. It's given you all sorts of fantastical ideas."

She rolled her eyes again, but couldn't keep from laughing at his observation. Those who thought Fenrir Greyback was nothing more than a mindless monster obsessed with nothing but blood and violence clearly didn't know the first thing about him. It was their loss, she'd decided years earlier.

"Where have you been? I haven't seen you since February."

"I've been here and there, but I've never exactly been welcome amongst your lot now, have I?"

"And your pack?"

Fenrir sighed, clearly not wishing to continue their conversation. She wasn't going to be so easily deterred. Almost an entire year had gone by since she'd last seen him. She wanted to know everything. For too long she'd been completely focused on her own life. It felt good to worry about someone else for a change. Knowing that she wouldn't give up on her questions any time soon without getting an adequate answer, he sighed again.

"We've mostly been trying to stay out of everyone's way. There's a family that has a lot of land up in the Highlands that's secluded and private. Those who don't have a safe place have been living up there."

"Is it safe to have that many werewolves in one place?"

"It's not safe to be a werewolf anywhere these days. Some of the laws and regulations that died under the Dark Lord are being brought back out. I won't lie. We're all pretty nervous and scared about the future. It doesn't look good for us."

She wished she could offer him some sort of hope that that wasn't the truth, but she couldn't. If Rodolphus was really the one behind the power that was overtaking the remnants of the regime, then the werewolves in Fenrir's pack were absolutely in danger. How many times had she listened to Rodolphus talk about how inferior and disgusting werewolves were to wizarding kind? He thought they were nothing more than animals that should be erased from existence simply because they had the misfortune of once being bit by a cursed creature. She'd learned early on to keep her own thoughts to herself when he would start in on one of his rants about removing filth from their world.

"Are you planning to fight?"

"If we have to, but mostly, we just want to be left alone. I don't think that's too much to ask."

"No, but Rodolphus is…"

"A proper Pureblood arsehole who thinks that the rest of the world exists just to make his life more comfortable? I've known dozens of wizards like him. Even bitten a few."

It would be a lie to say that Hermione wasn't uncomfortable when Fenrir mentioned his victims. She knew that there was generally more to the story than was reported when it came to werewolf attacks, but she couldn't deny that sometimes the brutality of the attacks was intentional and not done as a result of natural instincts. Never had she been brave enough to ask Fenrir for the details of his attack on Remus Lupin when he was an innocent child. She didn't think she could bear to listen to them. Neither of them had clean hands. It was best that they not dwell on the past.

"I'm not afraid of one man, but I do worry about what will happen if he fills the new Wizengamot with more people like him. It'll quickly get uncomfortable for my people."

She didn't want to talk anymore about the future. It was too hard to think about when all her mind could focus on was the pain it was currently in. And the fear she had that Rodolphus would never be done with her. Fenrir was a perceptive man. Maybe it had something to do with his primal instincts. She was never quite sure. Sensing she was uncomfortable, he steered the conversation into another direction.

"Why did you come here last night?"

"Because I needed to find someone I could trust. I don't have many of those people in my life anymore."

"What about your husband? Can you no longer trust him?"

Of course it was a subject that was bound to come up at some point. She wasn't naïve enough to believe that it wouldn't. Her answer, however, wasn't so obvious. Yes, in many ways she still trusted her husband and always would, but in others, she knew it was dangerous to put too much faith in one man. He kept secrets from her just as she kept secrets from him. If they weren't able to be completely open and honest with each other, what did that really say about them?

"No, I can still trust him. I just don't know where he is and it's… it's complicated."

Fenrir chuckled.

"Your marriage has always been complicated."

"Yes, it has."

Her shivering subsided. Between the heat from the fireplace and the extra blankets Fenrir tucked around her, she no longer worried that she was going to chip her chattering teeth. An exhaustion fell over her again that she couldn't deny. Once she was aware that she was safe, she could allow herself to calm down. Some of the pain was gone, but she still felt a little dizzy.

"Close your eyes and rest. I'll be here. I won't leave you alone for a second."