Chapter Two
Hermione Granger had never been one for rumors. Even at Hogwarts, she ignored the whispers that followed behind her back.
Know-it-all. Swot. Overbearing.
They had called her this, and more, during her formative years.
Now, at thirty years-old, they called her other names.
Lupa. The witch who walked among the werewolves. Mate. Mum.
She surmised the older werewolf before her, however, was not thinking of any of those titles, because the contrary emotion was drawn all over his face. Contempt, wariness, and distrust marked his wizened features.
Still, there was work to be done. Holding her ground, Hermione stared at the older werewolf who pre-dated Fenrir, even though he towered over her. "I don't think you understand what I'm saying," she remarked rather tightly, her patience thin with the Alpha before her. This wasn't her first time treating with stubborn men, magical creature or not, but Ariel Delphi was particular piece of work. The Delphi pack was one of the few packs on the isle that kept to themselves, even after all these years.
A shoulder, firm and warm, brushed against hers in support. Her heart hammered as she drew solace from her mate's quiet presence and she soldiered on despite the temporary setback. Lifting her chin, she proudly exclaimed, "This is the first time the Ministry's granting several key seats on the Wizengamot directly to werewolves. A large enough block will be able to—"
"I understand perfectly what you're saying," Ariel clipped in reply. "Unless you believe me incapable of simple comprehension?" He drew the question out. The threat hung in the air as he stared her down.
Hermione clenched her teeth together. It wasn't often that she ran across blatant distrust, especially as forceful as this. Her time lobbying the Ministry for werewolf rights still highlighted how far left she had to go. Carefully, she replied above her frustration, "You'd willingly refuse to send a representative to the Ministry on behalf of your pack? Why?" she sought the truth.
"Some of us refuse to be trotted out before your beloved Ministry, as if for show." He eyed her meaningfully, the implication sharp enough to make her reel back on a snarl. She might not be a werewolf, but living among them for years on end, she'd naturally picked up a few quirks.
"I'd watch what you say next," Sian interjected from her right. The lean Frenchwoman was Hermione's right-hand woman, acquired from the Loup Garou years ago. She kept her bright pink hair, a souvenir from a trip to the Muggle world, cropped close to her head. The woman was an unassuming at first glance, but was as quick as she was deadly.
Sian was one part of their small contingent that traveled for pack business. The others were Lavender Brown, and of course, Draco Malfoy.
Ariel crossed his large arms, blocking the group of four from further access to his pack, hidden just beyond the forest's edge. He flicked his head to Draco on her left, chuckling in amusement. "I imagine, she doesn't often hear the word 'no.'"
"You're welcome to find out for yourself," Draco whispered though they heard him well enough. The words were unassuming, but the threat simmered below the surface.
Lavender harrumphed beside Draco in agreement.
"She is perfectly capable to respond for herself," Hermione challenged Ariel directly. Once his gaze swung to her, she continued forcefully, "Slowly, but surely, attitudes are changing at the Ministry. We …" she gestured to her group, then to Ariel before continuing, "… have an opportunity to steer the conversation and ensure gains made in the last ten years are not lost, but expanded upon. This is your chance to be a part of that conversation and have your voice, and the voice of your pack, heard," she implored.
Ariel lowered to occupy her personal space. Draco growled behind her, but not before the werewolf offered his parting thoughts. "They will never see us as more than an animal," he sneered, bearing a bit of tooth. "You speak a good game, and play the part well enough, witch, but the Ministry will only have need of you … until they don't." He drew to his full height and spun on his heel. "I'll pass," he replied as if deciding to skip an unpleasant meal, leaving the foursome on the forest's edge.
"Well, that was rude," Lavender huffed once he had sufficiently moved away. "Can we go home now?"
Hermione peered past the barrier of the trees, her heart clenching at the thought of the men, women, and children who would be left out of progress due to their Alpha's stubbornness. She pressed her eyes closed and sighed, accepting the temporary defeat for what it was.
"It is his loss," a quiet voice interrupted her solemn thoughts. Hermione opened her eyes to find Draco peering down at her. Sian and Lavender had moved away enough to grant them privacy, but close enough to stand guard over their Alpha and Lupa.
Hermione blinked up at him as the carefully constructed mask fell away to reveal her grief, for there was no need to hide around him. "I promised change," she whispered as he pulled her into his chest. "But what good does it do, if isn't for everyone?"
"He's getting older, which means he's slowing down," Draco replied over her head. "Eventually, a new Alpha will take his place, and then we can return." A hand soothed her wild hair away from her face as she looked up at him. A faded scar from his tumultuous start as a werewolf ran down from his brow to his cheekbone. She lifted a hand to touch the faded scar, and all it represented, and watched as clear grey eyes closed. He gave a soft smile and replied, "You cannot save us all, love."
Hermione found solace as she leaned into his touch. "I will try."
"I know."
"Two sentries have posted behind you, my Lupa. There, just beyond the tree line." Sian rushed forward to the mated pair, interrupting their quiet moment. Sian peered into the darkness, her eye trained on something Hermione could not see. Draco gripped her arm tighter. "I think it's time we took our leave of Ariel's territory," Sian offered.
Here, her mate smiled as his hand lowered to captured hers. "Home?"
She nodded in response, his anticipation contagious. "Home," she agreed.
The group of four Apparated away from the dense forest before appearing beside the Shrieking Shack on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The quaint village enjoyed a quiet snowfall as the group rushed passed the boundaries of the dilapidated building. They shared a look, an equal mix of joy and longing, before taking off at a run for the Forbidden Forest. They were eager to be back home.
From her perch on the large tree root that overlooked the valley below, Hermione watched her children play. She spied Lyra instructing a group of women, while her sisters, Saria and Cassie, watched from the sidelines. Scanning her head to the left, she spied Leo and Scorpius trailing behind Zachary, whom they considered an older brother. Around them and with them, her children played among the pack, dimly aware of the world that existed beyond the forest border and the village nearby. Since their return to the Forbidden Forest all those years ago, her children had been mostly confined to the middle of a circle of tents that lined the valley below.
The trust between their pack and her was implicit, but palpable. Her pups were safe, here.
As the "wolf-pack three," as they were affectionately called, were joined by their younger brother, and a younger sister, Hermione watched, fascinated, as her children injected new life into Malfoy's pack and the Loup Garou.
"Thinking about having another?"
The smile was instantaneous the moment she heard it: the smooth tenor of her mate's voice. Even after all this time, his voice made her quiver. His words should not have caused her womb to ache, but they did. "What, five isn't enough?" she called as he approached her from behind.
A set of arms, affixed with scars, ensnared her waist until she was securely pulled against a chest. "I could never tire of you gifting me pups. You never looked more beautiful than when you carried my children, Hermione. Have I told you that?" Draco whispered into her ear. The blond scruff on his chin tickled her neck as she squirmed away from the sensation. Two years ago, he'd begun growing the facial hair out, content to let it be. She found the new style cavalier and inviting.
"If labor is such a gift, you should try it," she replied dryly to the werewolf at her back.
"Yet the result is the sweetest gift of all."
It had been, they both agreed. Motherhood brought her to somewhere she hadn't been before, and the journey started well before her first pups took their first breath. She had been protective of her friends and loved ones, but now, she knew, there was a darkness that waited beneath the surface. It was a boundary she would easily breach for her pack, for her mate, but especially for their children.
"We'll see what the future brings," she cryptically responded. "But I am content for now."
"Hmm. For now," he echoed her words.
Maybe it was the wolf's blood, courtesy of carrying a werewolf's pups, that set her on edge. But despite ten years' of peace, Hermione felt a stirring in her bones.
She turned in his embrace to peer into the thick of the forest behind them. A dreary fog had settled over the forest floor and the eerie mist would not dissipate. "The wind is colder. Can you feel it?" she burrowed into Draco's arms. For ten years, they had been cocooned behind a cover of trees. No matter how many times she ventured into the Wizarding world, she was uncomfortable until she returned home, to him and to their family.
He confirmed her premonition as arms pulled her tigher to him. "Yes," he offered quietly.
Hermione nodded, and replied, "It's disconcerting. There's been a shift in the wind, yet it has nothing to do with the change in the seasons."
Draco pushed his nose deep into the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent. "Whatever is coming, we will face it together." He slowly licked her neck from the base of her neck to the underside of her ear, causing her to shiver involuntarily. "Are you still upset after the incident with the Delphi pack?"
Hermione reached up to pull his head down. Her fingers languidly combed through his hair. She grinned as she kissed him long and slow. Her eyes fluttered open to take in the bright silver of his eyes. She knew these eyes in the throes of heat, and in depths of anger. Through it all, he was painfully beautiful and he was hers. "Care to join me for a swim?" She stood from the warmth of his embrace and together, they began a slow gait through the trees. She knew these trees, and this ground intimately. It was home.
"I'm not upset over the Delphi pack," she replied, carefully. "I'd considered Ariel a good candidate for the Wizengamot, but I should have know it takes time for generations of distrust to dissolve completely."
Beside her Draco shrugged. "He is an old fool," he said simply. "But he believes he is doing what's best for his pack. I cannot begrudge him that."
When they approached the river bank, she removed her shift and stepped out of her jeans, a Muggle habit she would never truly be rid of. Despite her mate and pack's affinity to sometimes go without, she'd always maintained a pair of worn jeans. Free of her clothes, she covered her breasts with one hand (silly enough as it was). Her breasts weighed heavier than before, but nursing had an effect on the body. She dove head-long into the cool river that emptied into Hogwarts' Great Lake, assured Draco followed behind. Scotland's frigid temperatures did little to impact her physically, courtesy of the wolf's blood coursing her veins.
Draco pulled away the hand that covered her breasts, a question in his eye.
"Three separate pregnancies, including one of multiples, will do that to you," she said to the night sky, uncharacteristically self-concious.
"This beautiful body gave me the most precious gift I could ever ask for," he replied as he pulled her deeper into the calm river. "I couldn't find you more attractive. Even now." What he could not say, he told her through touch, caress, and taste. Their story was an shared history of loss, love, and renewal: one only they truly knew. Others in their pack knew parts of the story, but never the complete picture. He pulled back to look down at her. "Is this some terrible trick?" he whispered, as his thumb lifted her chin. She knew this fear, too. Her mate was not immune from nightmares. Oftentimes, he would awake in the middle of the night and pull her so tight to him that she'd bruise. Only after she'd reassured him that she was real, would he tell her of his dream that the past ten years had not real. He would find her and their family gone, and he would be terrorized under Fenrir. He admitted to her that the fear was never far from his mind.
Her eyes softened as she placed her hands around his neck and stroked the back of his ears. "It isn't, love. And if it was, then I will find you. Again and again, until you know that I'm real. That this is real." She lifted to brush her lips against his.
The waters softly lapped around their waist. "You saved me from a fate worse than death, Hermione."
Hermione shuddered, her brows drawn down in concern. "Please. I don't like it when you talk about that." Once, they'd been surrounded by death, and the constant threat of it. It was not something she wished to experience for a very, very long time. She lay her head on his shoulder, content to listen to the calming current of the river.
"What? Death?" He shrugged the shoulder she rested on. "It is a part of life."
"Then I would fight Hades himself to bring you back," she murmured against his skin. She gripped his shoulders, taunt with muscle and old scars. "Do you know that?"
He smirked down at her, though she could not see it. "I know you would try."
"I would win," she smiled before sinking below the surface of the October river. She pulled him down with her.
an: Thank you so much for your interest in this story. Much more is coming! Love to you all~