Wolves without Teeth

by xxDustNight88

With the universe crumbling around them, Loki and Hermione find themselves connected by more than just their magical abilities. A myth becomes reality when an old foe comes tearing through the realms seeking revenge upon those who wronged him. What will happen when Loki and Hermione discover there's much more to their connection than meets the eye?

7. Part Six: Draco

Author's Note: First and foremost, I want to dedicate this chapter to Alan Rickman, our beloved Potions Master. It was with a heavy heart that I finished this chapter. Alan Rickman portrayed Severus Snape exactly as I envisioned him when I began reading the books. He was a brilliant actor in any role he performed, and he will be missed. A few notes before you head off to read: This chapter is strictly about Draco and his role within this tale, which will turn out to be quite important. I promise there will be more interaction between Loki and Hermione in the next chapter (spoiler alert: kissing…maybe more. We'll see!). Also, please don't forget to pop over to my profile and vote in the Darcy poll! Only two of you have voted! Major thanks to those of you that reviewed and also to my new followers and those that favorited my story. Please make sure to read the end note when you are finished! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All non-original characters, plot points, and information belongs to those at Marvel Studios, Warner Brothers, or J.K. Rowling. The title, "Wolves without Teeth" comes from the song of the same title by the fantastic Of Monsters and Men. The cover photo is a mashup I created from photos found on Google. The story plot and dialogue belongs to me. I do not write for profit.

Full Summary: In the age old fight of good versus evil, two souls converge in a battle to stop the end of all worlds. With the universe crumbling around them, Loki and Hermione find themselves connected by more than just their magical abilities. A myth becomes reality when an old foe comes tearing through the realms seeking revenge upon those who wronged him. What will happen when Loki and Hermione discover there's much more to their connection than meets the eye? Will they be forced to sacrifice everything they've ever wanted in order to save the nine realms or will love prevail?

Wolves without Teeth
Pairing: Hermione Granger/Loki Laufeyson
Rating: M (Rated Mature for adult language, violence, and sexual situations)
Part Six: Draco
Song Recommendations: "Numb" by Linkin Park, "Just a Dream" by Nelly, "Hello" by Adele, and "The Tunnel" by Marty Casey & Lovehammers

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"It is a lonely feeling when someone
you care about becomes a stranger."
— Lemony Snicket
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Draco

Snow continued to fall outside the fake window in the Head Auror's office. Currently, Harry was sitting behind his worn, oak desk with his chin resting on folded hands. He was trying to decide exactly how he was supposed to explain to the Minister of Magic that Hermione had popped off to Asgard to save the universe. Apparently. Even in his mind it sounded ridiculous. Last night, Ginny told him to lie, if only to protect Hermione. Ron had looked him in the eye, and with all seriousness as he packed up the last of his Quidditch and magical items from the flat he had shared with Hermione, had said, "Don't lie. If Hermione said she was off to save the world, she probably is, and we should be ready if and when the fight comes to us." Leave it to Ronald Weasley to be the only voice of reason in all this insanity.

Leaning back in his leather chair, Harry scrubbed at his face before dragging his hands through his messy, black hair. Reaching forward, he grabbed a spare quill and parchment before scribbling a quick interdepartmental note, tapping it with his wand, and watching it zoom off out the door. Then, with a sigh, he pushed himself up before straightening his robes and exiting the office. A few of the Aurors nodded or said good morning as he silently strolled by, his mind clearly on the matter at hand. By some sort of fate, the lift arrived without anyone on board. For once, Harry had no desire to make idle chit chat as he traveled between departments. Within moments, he arrived at Kingsley's floor, the lift shuddering to a stop and loudly clanking open. Exiting, he was both relieved and anxious to see his message from mere moments ago had been received and taken so seriously.

Draco Malfoy stood with his arms crossed, right foot tapping out his impatience on the floor. He slicked his blond hair out of his eyes with one hand before gesturing at Harry. "This better be important, Potter. I was just on my way to a trial." Harry swallowed, suddenly more nervous than before. He tried to put a positive sort of look on his face, but apparently failed miserably. "What is it?" Draco walked forward a few steps, meeting Harry halfway, concern clouding his icy, blue eyes. "Is she alright?" Before Harry had a chance to answer, the door to the Minister's office was thrown open, and a few dignitaries of some sort exited. After a few minutes of introductions and obligatory handshakes, Kingsley ushered Draco and Harry into his office before sealing the door with a locking and silencing spell. Draco remained standing by the door; arms crossed and an agitated look upon his pointed face. Harry accepted Kingsley's invitation to have a seat in one of the lush chairs more out of habit than comfort.

"I suspect you have good reason for calling this meeting, Potter." The aging Minister regarded Harry coolly from behind his desk. He indicated Draco standing against his wall. "And for including Malfoy as well." Finished with speaking, Kingsley leaned backward, the chair groaning. Harry glanced over his shoulder at Draco once more before taking a deep breath and preparing to explain everything, no matter how crazy it sounded.

"Yes, sir. I've come to tell you the truth about Hermione."

Well, that certainly was not what he was expecting to come out of his mouth. Damn Umbridge and her incessant I shall not tell lies haunting him all these years later. Granted, he'd been planning on being truthful all along, but that was definitely not the way he'd expected starting the conversation. Mentally scolding himself, Harry prepared for the onslaught of questions that were no doubt about to be barreled his way. Three. Two. One…

"What the bloody hell do you mean by the truth about Hermione, Potter?" Draco had pushed forward away from the wall and was now standing to the left of Harry, glaring down with his hands clenched at his sides.

"I would also like to know your answer to that question. I was under the impression she had the flu the past two weeks." Harry glanced back and forth between his friend and the Minister, attempting to find the right words to explain.

"You see; we thought she was sick…at first. She had some sort of seizure while working at Dr. Foster's lab one night—"

"A seizure! And you thought you would just keep information like that to yourself? What the bloody hell is the matter with you, Potter!" Draco was clearly fuming; his face had taken on an angry flush, and he was screaming so loudly Kingsley sent another silencing spell at the door just to be certain no passerby managed to hear their conversation. Harry tilted his head up to look at his enemy turned friend with a solemn face.

"She talked to me the next morning. She was fine—as it turns out the seizure was a side effect of a telepathic link she unknowingly shared with someone in another Realm."

Well, didn't that silence the room?

"Another Realm?!" Draco boomed, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands into the air. "Are you aware of how completely and utterly insane you sound right now? How the bloody hell can she have a telepathic link with someone in another Realm?" Running both hands through his hair, Draco turned away from Harry. Harry glanced back towards Kingsley simply to see the Minister was just a flabbergasted at this piece of information as Draco was…except he was controlling his emotions better.

"Harry, perhaps you could tell us what happened to Hermione? Possibly, where she is and why she hasn't been to work?" It was a relief that Kingsley was somehow managing to remain calm throughout this meeting as it had gone in a completely different direction than originally planned. Swallowing his nerves, Harry nodded at Kingsley and readjusted himself in the chair, sitting up a bit straighter and trying to get his thoughts together.

"After I talked to her, she…she traveled to Asgard with Dr. Foster, Darcy, and…Thor." Kingsley merely blinked back at him, setting the mug he'd just picked up down with such force coffee sloshed over the side. Cringing, Harry flinched as Draco punched the wall as hard as he could. Hermione always was a bit of a touchy subject when it came to him after all.

"Mr. Malfoy, I believe that is quite enough!" Kingsley scolded Draco, but allowed his face to show concern as the blond cradled his obviously broken hand against his heaving chest.

"I apologize, Minister," he seethed before glaring down at Harry. "Are you telling me that Hermione has seriously disappeared to another Realm with that Avenging fool? How do you even know that's where she went? Hermione has been known to—" He stopped short, swallowing back emotions and glancing away, anguish flickering through his icy eyes. "She's been known to vanish when she's depressed."

Harry reached up, setting his hand on Draco's uninjured arm before shaking his head. "She came back a few days ago. I talked to her myself."

"She came back?"

Harry closed his eyes, afraid how the next bit of information would be taken. "She needed to borrow my Invisibility Cloak for some insane mission. Then she left—returned to Asgard."

Without saying a word, Draco walked around to the other chair and plopped down, his head dropping backward against the headrest. Harry shared a worried look with Kingsley before reaching out and squeezing Draco's shoulder. Eyes clenched shut; Draco sighed heavily. "Why? What mission?"

"That's the reason I wanted to meet with the both of you." Finally, they were getting somewhere. "Hermione has been working extensively with Dr. Foster, but when Thor proposed to Jane at New Year's, a complication arose."

"What sort of complication?" Kingsley was all ears, and Harry bobbed his head, gearing up for the part that still made his blood run cold.

"Loki."

That name made Draco snap his eyes open and whip around so he could see Harry more properly. "What about that fiend?" Loki's misdeeds were well known to Draco as his family's New York flat had been destroyed during the Invasion years back. To this day, Draco still fumed about the loss of real estate.

"The ring Thor gave to Jane holds some sort of magical properties. Hermione is still doing extensive research on it, but before she was aware of anything strange, the ring somehow managed to forge a telepathic link between her and Loki, causing her to have connected dreams with him." At this point, a growl emitted from Draco as he surged to his feet once more to pace. He remained silent as Harry forged on. "Hermione traveled to Asgard to find out why she was so affected by the ring, and while there, they discovered that Loki was not dead as Thor had believed, but rather he was impersonating King Odin. So currently," he sighed. "Currently, she's gone off with Loki on some dangerous mission to save the universe; which is where we come in."

Draco stopped pacing, turning slowly to regard Harry. "Help? How the bloody hell are we going to help her when she's off in another Realm doing Merlin knows what with the God of Mischief and Lies?"

"She needs us to do some digging into a missing person."

"Who has gone missing?" Kingsley leaned forward, great interest blooming on his face.

"Actually," Harry began, "they've been missing since the Battle of Hogwarts. I did some research of my own this weekend and came up empty." He scratched at the stubble on his jaw. "That's why I've come to the two of you." Harry indicated the Minister and Draco with a sweep of his hand.

"Whoever has gone missing, they're probably long dead by now. They either died in battle, from wounds, or the few rogue Death Eaters and Snatchers remaining caught up to them." Harry found himself somewhat agreeing with Kingsley on this assessment, but there was an uncomfortable nagging in his gut that made him weary just to assume Fenrir was gone for good. That was why he had researched the list of unidentified bodies from the Battle of Hogwarts. None had been a match, although Fenrir was quite identifiable.

"Who do you want me to find?"

Draco knew, of course, that he had been summoned to this meeting for his exceptional tracking skills. He shared a pointed look with Harry, the gears already turning in his mind as they began to formulate plans and contacts to make contact with. He quirked an eyebrow, indicating that Harry should give him the name before he got too impatient. He was well-known in the Magical Law Enforcement Department for seeking out and apprehending nearly 200 Death Eaters, Snatchers, and Sympathizers since he had been hired.

"Fenrir Greyback."

Silence once again overtook the office as memories of the vindictive werewolf flooded all of their minds. Harry, who actively avoided thinking of anything Voldemort related, had been plagued with worry and fear ever since Hermione had tasked him with finding out about Greyback.

"I thought he was dead." Kingsley's question was the obvious assumption. Everyone had thought he was dead, or they just allowed the memory of the Werewolf to leave their minds. The Minister turned and tapped his filing cabinet with his weathered wand before extracting the very binder Harry spent countless hours analyzing this past weekend. As Kingsley briefly flipped through the large file, Draco continued to stare hard at Harry as if trying to read his mind. A disgruntled sigh left the Minister. "It appears, there is no record of what happened to Fenrir at the Battle of Hogwarts, other than his murder of that Brown girl."

"What do you need me to do?" Draco was getting impatient. Hermione had tasked Harry with finding this beast, and here they were just flipping through useless old files! Both Harry and Kingsley looked to Draco who was glaring at the Head Auror.

"I need your help finding out what happened to Fenrir. We need to discover if he's dead, or if he somehow managed to survive the Battle of Hogwarts. Either way, Hermione made it clear that this was extremely important." Draco absorbed Harry's words knowing that whatever the reason behind this seemingly random search, Hermione was clearly putting herself right in the path of danger.

"Did Hermione tell you anything else?" Kingsley pulled out some parchment and ink, ready to take notes.

"She did," Harry nodded before continuing, "She told me to name Draco as the temporary Head of MLE."

"Bloody hell. I expect she plans on being gone for quite some time?"

"She didn't really specify. I just know that she came back for help before returning to Asgard. She had plans to travel to Jotunheim with Loki." The Minister seemed speechless by this bit of news; Draco on the other hand, was livid.

"And you just let her go? You realize Loki is a murderous monster, don't you? She could be dead right now for all we know!" Draco wanted to punch the wall again, but two broken hands was not what he needed right now. What he needed was to talk to Hermione himself and make her see how manically impulsive she was being. Harry eyed Draco wearily before adding what Hermione had promised him before she'd disappeared.

"She promised me Loki would not harm her. I made her promise before I let her leave."

"This is ridiculous! How are we to contact her, if and when we find out what happened to Fenrir? An owl certainly will not be able to make inter-realm delivery!"

"Malfoy!" Kingsley said sternly, "Are you quite certain you will be able to conduct this mission without letting your emotions get in the way?" Draco turned slowly towards Kingsley, anger apparent on his face.

"My emotions are none of your concern, Minister. I have filled the cells of Azkaban with witches and wizards who are not even half the monster Loki is. Hermione is in need of our assistance and at present; we have no way of knowing whether or not she's alive. I, for one, am sick of wasting time talking about this when there is much to be done." The venom that dripped from every word Draco spoke was enough to make your blood run cold. He stalked to the door and threw it open, ignoring the way it banged violently off the outer wall.

"Where are you going," Harry asked, turning around in the chair.

"First, to get my hand healed, and then," Draco looked away, his eyes uneasy, "to Azkaban. There is someone I need to see." That said, Draco stormed out of the office, choosing to take the stairs instead of waiting for the insipid lift.

After he had gone, Harry stood and straightened his robes. He and Kingsley said nothing to one another, allowing the situation to weigh heavily with silence. He had known that Draco would probably be unable to handle this situation, but he really was the only person skilled enough to find out what had happened to Fenrir after the Battle of Hogwarts. Swallowing the uneasy feeling that had decided to become a permanent resident in his chest, he too made to leave. He was stopped by the clearing of Kingsley's throat. Closing his eyes, he sighed before opening them and turning and facing his long-time mentor, boss, and friend.

"Do you think he is going to be able to handle this mission?"

Scratching at the stubble on his jaw again, Harry decided to be honest. "No. I think it's going to tear him apart." Kingsley could only nod before glancing away, the history between Hermione and Draco was heavy enough that it could sink all of them if they weren't careful moving forward. Gripping the doorframe, Harry had one last bit of information to share before he too set off to research Fenrir. "Kingsley, Hermione mentioned having a bit of a run-in with S.H.I.E.L.D. Ron and I cleared all magical paraphernalia out of their flat and disconnected the Floo, but I think we might want to do something to ensure the Wizarding World's safety. They might be looking for us, even now."

"Fuck." Kingsley pinched the bridge of his nose before pulling more parchment in front of him. "I'll get the word out. We'll raise the Wizarding Secrecy Alert to red for the time being. Only authorized personnel may leave the Wizarding sector until all this mess is cleared up. Help spread the word, would you?" Acknowledging the order, Harry bowed his head and left the office already dreading what the papers would say about this seemingly unneeded increase of security. For everyone's sake, Harry prayed that whenever they found news of Fenrir Greyback, it was that he was dead and gone.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Icy cold water churned and sloshed as the rickety old boat cut a path through the frothy ocean. In the distance, Azkaban sat alone on the desolate island in the sea where it dwelled. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the early February air became even colder causing ice crystals to form on the worn wood of the boat. Draco sat rim-rod straight as he was magically propelled through the sea towards his destination. It had been a few years since he actually had to visit the seedy prison for Wizards and Magical beings. This was mostly because his presence tended to cause a bit of a riot with the inmates as he had been the reason behind the incarceration of nearly all of them since the end of the War. He sent an owl ahead of his arrival requesting that the prison be put on lock down to eliminate any unnecessary problems. Hearing the sirens echoing through the rushing water and blowing wind, clearly they had not heeded his warning—the insufferable inmates must have seen him approaching through the fog.

Exhaling through his nose, Draco stood just after the little boat bumped into the rocky beach before gripping the side and hopping over to land steady upon his boot clad feet. He brushed his traveling robes off quickly, rotating his neck and ignoring it when it cracked loudly. As Draco began the short trek from the shore to the door, he flexed his newly healed right hand before reaching into his pocket and extracting his wand. The doors were thrown open for him, the sirens ringing louder than ever. Once he entered, the doors closed on their own accord sealing him inside for the time being. Draco threw the hood back from his head and marched over to the desk where a young-looking wizard was seated, already preparing the paperwork needed to enter the main part of the prison. Draco smirked. There would be no paperwork for him today. In fact, no one would even remember he was here.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm very sorry I didn't receive your owl in time to go into full lock down. We're in the process of containing the prisoners at the moment. It won't be long before the calm has been restored." The young man, whose id-badge indicated was called "Brad Hucklebone," shifted uncomfortable behind his desk, pushing the necessary forms forward with a freshly inked quill.

Stopping in front of the messy desk, Draco towered over 'Brad', a smirk gracing his Pureblooded lips. He leaned over slowly, touching one finger to the forms before pushing them back towards the confused guard. "I don't think these will be needed today, Brad. May I call you Brad?" When Brad merely nodded, eyes wide, Draco continued, "I'm here on orders of the Minister, and it is of the utmost importance that no one remembers my visit." He reached into his robes and extracted a large moneybag. "Now, I will be needing access to the Private Vaults, so I'm going to have to keep hold of my wand." He jangled the moneybag and watched as Brad's eyes widened even further, making him look like some sort of deranged owl.

"Mr. Malfoy, you know I can't allow you into the Private Vaults with your wand. It's against regulation. I could lose my job…and so could you." Rolling his eyes, Draco sighed heavily as he undid the moneybag. Instead of arguing with the simple wizard before him, he removed three galleons and placed them on the desk; his eyebrow quirked. When Brad still looked as if he would run to his supervisor and rat Draco out for even attempting to bribe his way into Azkaban, Draco decided to up the ante.

"Let's see here," he added two more galleons to the pile and locked eyes with Brad before explaining, "Three for allowing me to keep my wand, two more for not making me complete those ridiculous visitation forms, and another two for making sure no one knows who I have come to speak to. How does that sound?" Brad looked down at the money on the desk before swallowing heavily and glancing back up at Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy, I don't think I can accept this."

Annoyed with this simpering fool, Draco turned the moneybag over and listened with a sick kind of joy as the remaining galleons, ten in total, clinked onto the desk. It was far more than he had intended on paying for the man's silence, but he would do what he had to in order to make sure no one knew who he came to see. If the word got out about his visitation, the Prophet would be abuzz with trying to pin him with outrageous insinuations. No, it was best if his visit was kept a secret. Brad's mouth had popped open so Draco tossed the now empty moneybag onto the desk and made his way to the sealed rock-door.

"You can keep the bag. Now, Brad, will you allow me access to the Private Vaults. The longer you allow me to linger here, the higher chance you will lose your job. That I can promise you."

Pushing his rolling chair back hurriedly, Brad nearly toppled over on his way to where Draco was waiting. Draco watched as Brad clumsily tapped out a pattern on the rocks before it began to shift, the rocks grating together as they formed a dilapidated archway. Once all movements has ceased, Draco gave Brad one last nod before flipping his hood back into place and moving into the darkness beyond. As he continued to move forward, he heard the doorway return to normal, sealing him in and making it impossible for prisoners to escape. If he did not finish interrogating the inmate, he had come to see and return to the door in twenty minutes, he would be locked here until someone else decided to venture inside. That could be tomorrow, next week, or even months from now. After the War, the Private Vaults were built for only the most nefarious of Death Eaters.

The further into the Vaults Draco walked, the colder and more disgusting it became. It was clear that this was not an area of Azkaban that was well taken care of. Even without the use of Dementors, the Private Vaults easily sucked the life and happiness out of you the longer you spent here. It was rare these days for Draco and the other MLE officers and Aurors to attain someone worthy enough to be sentenced to life in the Vaults, but it did happen on occasion. Today, however, Draco would be visiting someone who had been locked down here since the War had ended, and Azkaban had been restructured to function more normally without needing the soul-sucking Dementors as guardians. His boots crunched over the uneven cement and grime as he quickened his pace ever so slightly. When he reached the end of the hall, he turned slowly to the left, an evil smirk tilting the corner of his mouth.

"Hello, Uncle."

There was a faint stirring inside the cell as the occupant unraveled himself from the cot where he'd been resting. Shuffling forward, Draco was struck with the stench of unwashed body and feces. It was enough to send anyone reeling, but he managed to swallow down the bile threatening at the back of his throat. His skin prickled as Rodolphus Lestrange came into view, his now toothless grin making his eyes flash in the faint light from Draco's wand.

"If it isn't it little Draco? Come to pay your old uncle a visit?" Rodolphus cackled so hard that he began to cough. Draco watched impatiently as he tried to get the hacking under control. It was with a bit of self-satisfaction that he noticed the blood dripping from the corner of his uncle's mouth.

"I've come for information." Draco watched in disgust as his uncle wiped at his mouth, smearing the blood down his chin.

"And what makes you think, nephew, that I will be willing to share what it is you need to know?"

"Because I can make your time left here much worse than you are experiencing now. Because it was my idea to not have you left for dead after the Battle of Hogwarts. If it wasn't for me, you'd have died in the rubble." Slowly, Draco reached into his robes once more, extracting a smaller moneybag than the one he shared with Brad and dangled it where Roldolphus could see. Those yellowing eyes watched the bag hungrily. "And because I can pay you for what I need. Tell me, uncle, do you enjoy sleeping without a pillow? I'm sure the meager amount I have in this pouch would be sufficient to purchase you a small pillow, maybe some socks, and an extra parka from the guards." Reaching through the bars, Roldolphus made a grab for the bag, but Draco was too quick. He lifted his arm out of reach, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth three times. "Tisk, tisk, tisk, Uncle. Information first, then payment."

"Who's to say you won't leave without handing that over?" Roldolphus gestured towards the bag with his chin, eyes narrowing in the darkened cell. Draco had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Managing to control his annoyance, Draco glared at his uncle while pointing his wand through the bars of the cell.

"Enough, old man. You either give me what I need, or I am gone, just like that."

"Fine. What do you need to know?"

Satisfied, Draco withdrew his wand and took a step forward, towards the stench of the cell. "I need to know what became of Fenrir Greyback after the Battle of Hogwarts. You two were old acquaintances; I have a good hunch you have heard whisperings of what happened to the beast."

Roldolphus was silent for a few minutes, his yellow eyes blinking slowly in the light emitted from Draco's wand. Just as Draco was starting to lose patience, the ex-Death Eater allowed a sinister smile to slide onto his aging face. It was followed by more of that blood rattling cackle that made the hair on the back of Draco's neck stand up. "Fenrir Greyback. A name I have not heard in quite some time…"

"But you have heard it since the end of the war?"

"Indeed, I have. One of the few of us that managed to elude you and the other Ministry puppets." Turning his head to cough into the crook of his arm, Roldolphus clearly showed signs of dying. Consumption was ruining his lungs from the inside out—a disadvantage of being locked down in the Private Vaults for all these years. Once the coughing fit had subsided, his gaze returned to Draco's unwavering stare. "Many have said he was dead, out of fear most likely, but those of us that knew him best, those that spent long periods of time with him, know better."

"You're saying that Fenrir is alive?"

"It is most certainly a possibility." More coughing. Draco was becoming agitated. This was taking far longer than he expected, he only had about ten minutes to return to the rock door it trapped him here.

"Quit being so blasé Roldolphus and tell me what I need to know. If Fenrir is indeed alive, where can he be found and how did he manage to survive? I will not hesitate in using force if needed." He indicated his wand, which had been slowly inching forward to point at his uncle's chest once more.

"Don't get your trousers in a twist." Trying to suppress another coughing fit, Rodolphus beat on his chest, clearing the blood and mucus, so he would be able to explain. "Fenrir was one to boast about his abilities—he loved being a werewolf. He always said it made him feel free when he was in wolf form. I witnessed him on a number of full moons tearing through small towns and villages, completely decimating everyone in his path. It was a terrifyingly powerful sight to behold, and yet strange. He was somehow able to control his mind while in wolf form unlike so many other Werewolves of our kind. So many innocent victims lost their lives to Fenrir Greyback. He also got off on creating more of his kind—his children he called them. Most of the time, they didn't survive their first transition, but the ones that did; Fenrir 'raised' and molded to be just as ferocious as he was." Rodolphus had to stop to catch his breath, chest rattling before continuing his tale. "Like I said, Fenrir loved to talk about himself. He once told me and Bellatrix about where he came from—said he grew up in Romania, but his wolfish abilities had been a gift from the gods. We didn't quite know what he meant by that, but we played along regardless. The more time we spent with Fenrir, the stranger his abilities seemed to be. There were many occasions where he clearly should have been killed…but somehow survived. It was almost as if he was invincible…as if he were like the gods he spoke of. As the years went on, he became more and more wolf-like on a normal basis…there were times when I suspected whether it truly had to be a full moon for him to be able to change form."

Draco took in all this information, slowly sifting through it within his mind. His uncle had stopped talking, once again having a coughing fit that drew blood upon his lips. Draco wondered if he would even live to see another year. It made no difference whether or not this brute lived or died as long as he gave Draco everything he needed to move forward with his mission. Waiting somewhat impatiently until the coughing died down, Draco tried to figure out what to ask next as he would need to hurry.

"This is all very fascinating, uncle, but I need to know whether or not Fenrir made it out of that battle alive and where the bloody hell he is now."

"Whisperings indicate he may still be out there, prowling and regaining his strength for the next big fight."

"And what fight would that be?"

"Ragnarok."

"What the fuck is Ragnarok?" Draco was angry now; the time was gone for idle chit chat and silly one word answers. Using his wand as leverage, he glared at his uncle, relishing the fear that flickered in his eyes at the sight of a wand tip in his face. Roldolphus raised his hands in a silent surrender before spitting his bloody mucus onto the floor. Draco's lip curled in disgust. "I'm waiting, old man."

"It's the end of the world…an ancient Norse legend."

Sighing, Draco gripped his wand tighter, knowing he had mere minutes to get the hell out of the Vaults. "You're telling me Fenrir Greyback is in some myth about the end of the world? That means he would have to have an—"

"Augmented lifespan, yes."

Looking away briefly, Draco thought back to Thor and Loki and how they too had augmented lifespans. Could it be that Fenrir Greyback was not of this world? Could he be out there even now biding his time, waiting to strike down all of mankind as well as the other worlds? Draco chucked the moneybag at his uncle's feet and stepped back, fear gripping him.

"Where do I begin to look?"

Bending slowly to retrieve the money, Roldolphus grinned evilly. He did not speak until he had righted himself, tossing the bag playfully in the air and catching it once, twice, three times before taking a shuddering breath. "My guess? Romania. That was where he always felt most at home. He has many…children there."

Without saying good-bye, Draco turned and began to run down the dark hallway. Already he could hear the grinding and shifting of rock at the end. He ignored the raspy laughter of his uncle as he ran full out, his hood thrown back from his head and his arms pumping at his sides. The archway in view, Draco sprinted as fast as his body would allow, terror beginning to overtake his mind as the wall started to close. With one final burst of speed, Draco dropped to his knees and slid through the now narrow hole like he had seen Potter do at the ridiculous Ministry "baseball" game last summer.

Coming to a stop, relief rushed rapidly through his entire being as the last rock slid into place. Brad was nowhere to be found so Draco hurriedly got to his feet, dusting off his now torn and filthy traveling robes. Glancing about quickly, he flipped his hood up and headed for the door, glad that it opened, allowing him to venture back outside into the sea sprayed air. With so much to think about, he walked briskly to the boat and jumped in, immediately using his magic to force the vessel in the direction of the mainland. Hadn't Potter mentioned something about Hermione trying to save the world? Maybe she was trying to stop Ragnarok or whatever the hell it was from happening. Frustration raged through Draco as the slow boat moved through the choppy water.

At long last, the boat bumped into the mainland. Immediately, Draco hopped out of the boat and began walking up towards the Apparation point, digging in his robes for the blasted Muggle cell phone he hated to love. Once found, he swiped the device into use and brought up Potter's number, tapped send, and smacked it against his ear to hear over the harsh sounds of the ocean and sea wind. One. Two. Three. Why was Potter always so horrible at answering his damn phone? Why even have the fucking thing? Halfway through the fourth ring, Potter's voice broke through the void.

"Malfoy?"

"I've got information on our missing person."

"Really? That was fast. Is he alive?"

"Possibly."

"Okay…that's rather vague, Malfoy. We can't summon Hermione with a 'possibly'. You know she's going to want more than that."

Shuffling back and forth in the sandy terrain, Draco rolled his eyes. "I think I know that just as well as you do, Potter. I have a lead on his whereabouts if he so happens to be alive, but we're going to have to go there and do some digging." A long sigh was heard across the line which raked on Draco's nerves. Was he the only one fully invested in this nonsense?

"Where exactly is he rumored to be?"

"Romania."

"Shit. It could take ages to find him there."

"I can be ready to go first thing in the morning. Meet me at the International Apparation Department. We'll travel together. The search will go much faster with the both of us working it." Already Draco was making a mental note of what he would need to pack and where they could stay.

"Malfoy, you know I can't just up and leave. With Hermione gone and the raised security, I have to stay in the country. I can send one of the other Aurors if you need me to, but that's the best I can do. Not to mention, Ginny is traveling a lot for the Prophet right now, and I can't always leave Lily and Albus with Molly and Arthur."

Dropping the phone away from his ear, Draco gripped the annoying device as he paced back and forth a number of times in an attempt to get his anger under control. Growling in frustration, Draco brought the damned thing back to his ear and attempted to keep his voice from sounding as if he wanted to rip Potter's head from his shoulders. "Fine. I'll go on my own, but you better promise to be on stand-by when I find the beast."

"You really shouldn't go on your own, Draco…what about Astoria and Scorpius?" Fuck. Astoria would be livid if he told her he was off on some mission to help Hermione. Their marriage was fragile as shit as it was when it concerned his ex-lover. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Draco sighed heavily.

"You know I have to do this, Harry. If I don't, then I'll never forgive myself if something happens to Hermione."

"Damnit, Draco…what a mess, right?"

"I have to go. I still lo—I just have to…, and I need you to cover for me."

"Done. I'll send notice to the IAD so there's no issue with you traveling so soon without proper paperwork. When will you leave?"

Draco tilted his head back, the hood falling to reveal himself to the night sky above. Somewhere out there, Hermione was attempting to save the universe. Without his help, all her work would be for nothing. He had hurt her enough over the years…it was time for him to repay her the favor of being so strong and supportive. After all, she had done everything in her power and more to eradicate all the Pureblood laws so that they might have a chance to be together. What had he done in return? Nothing. He'd remained married to Astoria and essentially ignored Hermione's love. No, this time he would step up and do what was right. Draco dropped his gaze away from the endless stars and swiped away the tears that had formed in his blue, grey eyes.

"First thing in the morning. I have to go home first."

"Understandable. You'll keep me informed on your progress and contact me as soon as you have a location, right?" Harry sounded uncertain as he questioned Draco.

"Of course. I'll need backup for the confrontation, no doubt."

"Alright then. Be safe, Draco."

"Thanks, Harry. Talk to you soon."

Smiling ever so faintly, Draco ended their call and put the phone away. He shook his head wryly at how he and Potter's relationship had evolved over the years. After Hermione and he had forged a truce, he'd started hanging out with her, the Gryffindorks, and the rest of their friends. Slowly, friendships were forged, and especially after becoming a couple, they were all nearly inseparable. When his mother had found that damned betrothal contract, well…his entire life had changed. He had loved Hermione with every bit of his heart and soul—having to leave her for Astoria was the most gut wrenching pain he had ever felt. It was even worse than that time Potter had used Sectumsempra on him in the boy's bathroom. To be honest, he still loved Hermione so much that it hurt. He was too much of a coward to do anything about it though, so he stayed with Astoria, not wanting to break her heart and shattering Scorpius's perfect image of his father.

Deciding traveling to Romania and, hopefully, finding Fenrir was indeed the best course of action, Draco readied himself to Apparate home where his doting wife and pride and joy were no doubt waiting for him. He would have to spend the rest of the evening packing and preparing himself for his journey, and hoping that they would forgive him for leaving them alone for the time being. With one last thought of Hermione and the mission he was about to set off on, Draco turned and vanished from sight.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Heart pounding, Draco slammed the door of the dilapidated motel room and immediately sent the room into darkness with his wand. Still breathing heavily from running, He tried to remember his way around the room in the darkness, only managing to trip once over a tear in the carpet. With his back against the wall, Draco used his wand to gingerly lift the tattered curtain away from the window and peer out into the darkness. With the moon nearly full, it was easy to see what was going on outside. A few Muggles were smoking by a rubbish bin in the carport and a cat even ran by, probably chasing dinner. Everything appeared as normal as could be.

Unless, of course, you were aware of the army of werewolves secluded in the forest just beyond the dirt road across the way.

He let the curtain fall back into place before performing a Darkening Charm on the window and moving into the middle of the room where he remembered the bed to be. Before doing anything else, Draco began applying undetectable wards to his room, along with extensive locking and silencing spells. Hopefully, these precautions would prevent the werewolves he'd had a run-in with from finding him. Granted, he'd managed to pretend he was a lost Muggle, but one could never be certain. Werewolves tended to be more perceptive when it came to sniffing out the difference between Muggles and those with Magical abilities.

With the immediate threat taken care of, Draco sat down on the edge of the bed, his wand dropping onto the duvet and both hands coming up with cover his weary face. He was deep in the mountains of Romania, and with February's full moon only one day away, it was a blessed miracle he had managed to stumble upon the werewolf camp. And bloody terrifying. After weeks of endless hiking, sleeping in bedbug infested motels, and nearly no rest, it was a relief to have finally found what he'd been searching for all this time. Fenrir.

Oh yes. Fenrir Greyback was most certainly alive, well, and cultivating his abundant pack of werewolves for some sort of battle. All day, Draco watched from behind a tree as Fenrir had his children running drills, learning Dark Magic, practicing hand-to-hand combat, and attempting to shift into their wolf form without the aid of moonlight. If it wasn't for the sheer fact that these were blood-thirsty werewolves, Draco would have been impressed. If his calculations were correct, there had to be nearly fifty or so of the beasts, which meant that there was no way of engaging Fenrir without deathly consequences. Contacting Potter for backup was critical if Draco wanted to ensure getting out of here alive.

He'd been lucky the werewolves that stumbled into his hiding place had believed his story that he had gotten turned around somehow. They pointed him in the direction of the motel, and Draco didn't hesitate before thanking them and taking off to the supposed safety this room provided. There was no doubt in his mind that they'd gone back to Fenrir and reported a strange person lurking about. It was only a matter of time before they came looking for him. It was time to contact Potter, forcing him to get out from behind his fancy desk and enter back into the land of actual bloody missions. For weeks, Draco made sure to keep his friend up to date with the progress he made by sending texts and calling whenever possible.

Draco dug through his jacket, locating the blasted phone and swiped it to life. The damn thing glowed brighter than a lumos maxima causing Draco to curse and thank Salazar there was a Darkening Charm in place on the window. Pulling up Potter's number, he clicked the little green send icon and listened as it rang once before indicating he was not in a service area. With a curse, Draco rolled his eyes and idly wondered why he even bothered. He'd been without service for days now with how deep into the mountains he came. Trying to figure out how best to get a message to the Head Auror, he quickly decided the land line was not an option—the damned thing could be bugged by Fenrir for all he knew. Shit, the entire area could be infested and controlled by the werewolves from the mountains. Owls, floo, and Apparation were also most certainly out of the question…really that left only one option.

In the darkness, Draco twirled his wand through his long fingers and contemplated whether or not to risk sending his Patronus all the way back to London. Swallowing, he realized it wasn't really the fear of the wrong person seeing his Patronus it was the idea that Pott—Harry would recognize it and finally know the truth he had been keeping to himself all these years. Grumbling, because it was truly the only option, Draco stood and closed his eyes to the darkness, bringing forward the happiest memory he could imagine—the day Hermione had first admitted that she loved him.

"Expecto Patronum."

A silvery, blue otter burst from the tip of Draco's wand making his heart ache and tears burn his eyes. He watched as the otter 'swam' around the dark room, making the shadows appear less lonely before it came to a stop on its back, patiently awaiting further instructions. One of the first defensive spells Hermione taught him when they'd been hired for the MLE was the Patronus. It had taken him the greater part of a year to master the tricky spell, but when his first corporeal Patronus had exploded from the tip of his wand, Hermione had clapped and jumped with glee before throwing herself around him in an immense hug. It was so unlike her that his eyes had been pulled from the shimmery snake writhing across the floor to gaze thoughtfully down at her before returning the gesture. That had been the end of their epic fighting, and the first time he realized that somehow he'd managed to fall for the Muggleborn witch.

Looking back at his otter, Draco thought about his old Patronus—the snake. He knew that the spell had taken that form as a reminder of his godfather, Severus Snape. It was Snape, after all, that had talked him into trying to change sides mere hours before being uselessly murdered. Even to this day, Draco wondered if he had agreed to move to the light, whether or not Snape might have lived. Draco decided to apply for the MLE as a way to honor his fallen godfather. The man did everything in his power to protect Draco, going even as far as murdering the Headmaster! After struggling so long to conjure a Patronus, it had been a shock to find that one day the snake was gone, and in its place, an otter had appeared. He knew that the change had occurred because of his unrelenting love for Hermione, her Patronus also being an otter, but the loss of the snake had affected him greatly. It had affected him so much that he had gone to a Magic Tattoo artist and had his faded Dark Mark turned into a replica of his former snake curling around a lily with Snape's initials. Harry had helped him design the tattoo and Draco couldn't have been more grateful.

With a heavy heart, Draco explained to the otter where he was, the situation with the werewolves, and that Harry needed to put on his big boy Auror pants and get the hell here before the rise of the full moon the next evening. As the otter disappeared from the room, Draco prayed that he had sounded as urgent as the situation warranted. Finally, with his task taken care of, Draco curled up on top of the bed, still clothed, and fell into a restless sort of sleep where his dreams were plagued with memories of Hermione, Snape, and werewolves.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

An explosion went off, sending both Draco and Harry flying forward onto their stomachs as they ran through the werewolf infested forest. Draco was the first to rise, immediately flipping onto his back before throwing himself back to his feet. He then turned and grabbed Harry by the back of his jacket, yanking him to his feet, and they were off, running away from the werewolf base camp the Romanian Ministry had decided to destroy without telling them. The plan, or so Harry originally explained, had been to place anti-Aparration wards around the perimeter, as well as a number of wards that would secure the now transformed werewolves so no one would be hurt, or worse killed. Well, obviously that plan had gone to shit the moment the Romania's triggered the bomb. Now, there were spells being flown about, explosions throwing them about, and werewolves hunting in the forest.

A right fucking mess is what it was.

Zigzagging through the trees, Draco tried to control his breathing, the sound his feet made as they ran, and keep an eye on Harry. It was his fault Harry was there, and he couldn't imagine having to tell Ginny, his three children…and the rest of the Weasley Clan, that the Boy Who Lived, lived no more. Nope. No fucking way. As yet another explosion rocked the forest; Draco ground his teeth together before whipping his head to the side. He could have sworn there had been movement to the right of him. Smacking Harry in the arm, he gestured with his chin in the direction the movement had come from. Harry's eyes narrowed behind his glasses as they slowed their running and found shelter behind a large tree. It was a feat to try to calm their breathing, but somehow they managed.

"I think the explosions are stopping," whispered Harry, tilting his head to the side, clearly listening for movement. Draco merely nodded, there were far too many werewolves out there. He just hoped they'd run down the mountain towards the Muggle village in search of prey rather than the way he and Harry went, as horrible as that sounded.

"I could kill you, Potter." He glared at his friend. "What the fuck were the Romanians thinking? Now they're going to have a huge cover-up to manage, not to mention all the fucking murdered Muggles."

"Shit, Draco…I didn't know about the bomb until Dumitrescu warned us to take cover." Harry let his head bump back against the tree, eyes falling closed. "All those werewolves dead." Draco punched him in the arm, getting his attention focused back on their current situation.

"Personally, I'm only worried about one werewolf, and I think we managed to catch up to him." Unsheathing his wand, Draco peered around the tree where sure enough, Fenrir could be seen tending to a burn on his arm. "I guarantee he knows we're over here, so get ready…there's bound to be a few of his children nearby. He always has some sort of 'guard'." Harry nodded grimly, his mouth a thin line as he followed Draco out from behind their tree.

"Fenrir."

Draco wasted no time in confronting the beast. The fact that Fenrir was not currently in wolf form indicated he was more than your regular breed of werewolf. The beast in question, turned slowly, holding his injured arm against his chest as he took Draco and Harry's presence under consideration. Now that he was so close to this mongrel, Draco felt a shiver of fear but refused to acknowledge it. Fenrir had to be stopped.

"Well, well, well…if it isn't little Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. What a pleasant surprise. What brings you two to Romania? Quite a lovely little country isn't it?" Fenrir stepped closer to the pair of them as he taunted with his words.

"Enough talking Fenrir, we're here to capture and return you to the UK where you'll be persecuted for your crimes during the Second Wizarding War." The bark of laughter that shot from the werewolf at Harry's words made the two wizards flinch and grip their wands tighter.

"That won't be happening. You see; I have other travel arrangements this evening…plans that you trivial wizards need not concern yourself with." He let go of his injured arm and raised himself to his normal height before cracking his neck. "Now, whatever shall I do with you two pesky fools?" Fangs bared, Fenrir scarcely gave them enough time to prepare before lunging forward, wand raised and the killing curse already forming on his blood tinged lips.

Going into battle mode, Harry and Draco separated, both casting shields and watching as the green light zipped right where they previously had been standing. Throwing protocol to the wind, Draco decided that the Ministry approved list of spells was not going to achieve the desired results in this duel. Raising an eyebrow at Harry, he shrugged before throwing a Dark Spell at the werewolf who skidded to a halt and turned towards Draco, wand raised once more. Draco's spell nearly hit its mark, but Fenrir shielded himself at the last second, red light exploding around them all. Harry gave him an agitated sort of look at his lack of protocol, but he hardly cared right now. Kingsley would never fire him for protecting the Chosen One.

As always, Harry stayed with the light side of things, attempting to disarm Fenrir from behind, ducking when a dangerous sort of yellow was shot back at him. The three tangoed their way around the clearing, an array of colorful spells igniting the dark night. Just as Draco dodged yet another killing curse, the children arrived, prowling into the clearing with their muzzles full of fresh blood. Panting, Draco caught Harry's terrified eyes—this was about to get dangerous. It was highly unsafe for them to take on not one, not two, but three full-blooded werewolves. Wiping his brow, Draco glared at Fenrir as he continued to track the beasts with his peripheral vision, Harry doing the same.

"Enough, Fenrir. Time to surrender and come with us. We don't wish to harm the wolves." Well, maybe Harry didn't…Draco would do whatever it took to get out of this alive.

"Oh, Draco, I don't think you understand. There will be no surrendering this night." He laughed coldly, tucking his wand into the torn jacket he wore. "Well, perhaps the two of you as you beg for mercy at my hands…but other than that, no; I will not bow to the likes of you, traitorous bastard."

And then, he began to transform. Right before their wide eyes, Fenrir's slightly human features began to morph—his bones cracking and elongating under his deformed skin, hair sprouting up everywhere, and fangs shooting out of his mouth along with a growl that sent the hair standing straight up on Draco's entire body. The other two werewolves growled low in their throats, their eyes gleaming as they watched their maker become one with them. Harry inched closer to Draco, instinctively getting ready to battle back to back so there was less a risk of getting attacked from behind by these violent creatures. Never having seen Fenrir in wolf form before, it was a bit of a shock to realize he remained more man-like than the wolf-like. It was even more of a shock when the beast grinned maniacally at them and then spoke clear as day—

"As you can see, I am not like other werewolves. I am a special type of breed, and I am set to leave this Realm for a while." Smiling even more at their shocked faces and wide eyes, Fenrir continued his explanation, "But don't worry, once I've taken care of the rest of the universe, I'll be back to destroy this one as well." Finished boasting, Fenrir stepped forward, eyeing the other wolves. "Attack."

Harry and Draco barely had time to take a breath before all three beasts jumped forward. Draco took one down with a perfectly timed sectumsempra, regret bursting in his chest as the familiar sensation of aiming to maim overtook his being. He didn't want to hurt anyone but Fenrir, but he would do everything in his power to remain alive. With one wolf down, the odds were back in their favor, but just barely. Harry gave him a pained look as he focused solely on the regular werewolf leaving Fenrir's evolved form for Draco to deal with. The beast was circling Draco, as if deciding where he wanted to strike first.

Deciding against using his words, Draco went straight for the attack, sending spell after spell at Fenrir until one finally managed to hit. Granted, it was only the beast's shoulder, but it was enough to take him down to his knees, his werewolf form beginning to slide from his body. Taking a second to glance at Harry, who seemed to be surviving for the time being, Draco returned his gaze to Fenrir just as he pounced, taking Draco to the ground so hard that his wand was flung aside. Even with Fenrir no longer in full transformation, the raw power he had was enough to keep Draco struggling, using all his might to force those fangs away from his face. Bringing his knee upwards with as much force as possible, Draco went old school, kneeing Fenrir in the groin. Draco smirked as a yelp of pain shot out of the beast, and he rolled to the side, allowing Draco to grab his wand. Unfortunately, Harry's wolf came charging at Draco, clearly attempting to protect his maker. Once again Draco was forced to the ground, but he kept hold of his wand this time.

The next few minutes would remain a blur to Draco no matter how he hard he tried to remember them. Finally, upon realizing the dire situation Draco was in, Harry switched from the practical defense spells to ones meant to hurt, to maim. Both Fenrir and the other werewolf were attempting to tear into Draco, who was managing to fend them off with weak shield spells. It wasn't until Harry knocked the overprotective wolf into unconsciousness, that Draco was able to land a shot on Fenrir and dart to his feet before backing away to safety. Harry grabbed his arm before he stumbled to his feet, both spent physically and emotionally from fending off the two werewolves.

"I've had just about enough of your nonsense." Fenrir seethed, spitting blood from his mouth. He inhaled then, slowly and deeply, a disturbingly chilling sort of smirk taking shape on his blood-red lips. "I'll see you soon." Before either wizard could do anything further, Fenrir Apparated with a 'pop'. Once the immediate threat was over, Draco collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily as the situation overwhelmed him. He had almost been eaten alive…

Harry dropped to kneel at his side, those green eyes gentle and worried as they examined his friend. "Are you alright, Draco?"

"I—I think so."

"Okay, we have to get out of here. Hold onto my arm…I'm going to Apparate us to safety."

Safely back at the Romanian Ministry of Magic, Harry managed to get Draco to a private room. Draco was grateful, because Merlin knew he was emotionally incapable of dealing with shit right now. He was beyond furious Fenrir had gotten away. After chugging down three or four goblets of water, Draco felt slightly back to normal. "That bastard got away! He could be on his way to Asgard right now, for all we know!" Harry eyed him wearily, his brow furrowed and a frown on his lips. Draco got up from the chair he was sitting in and began to pace. "What do we do now? It could take ages to track Fenrir down again and stop him, even if we had an army of Aurors working with us!"

"We have to contact Hermione. We have to warn her and the others. Fenrir obviously had no idea we knew about his supposed role in Ragnarok—we can use that to our advantage right now." Draco nodded, hating to admit that Harry was right.

"Fine, but I'm coming with you. Let's get out of this country before they decide to blow up some more shit."

Harry nodded in agreement before worry graced his features once more. Pointing at Draco's shoulder, he asked, "Are you alright? You're bleeding."

Glancing down, sure enough the shoulder of his jacket was torn and there was blood visible. Draco vaguely remembered landing on the shoulder at some point, but he had no recollection of when the injury occurred. Frowning, Draco used his wand to clear the blood away and repair his jacket so no one would question them as they went to the IAD.

"I'll get it healed when we get back to London. Let's just get out of this place."

Harry nodded, concern still evident on his worn face, but he let it drop for the time being. Draco tried to ignore the anxious feeling that overcame him at the sight of the wound…there would be time to examine it more fully later. For now, they had to warn Hermione. Fenrir was coming.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hermione sat up in bed, the covers falling away from her body and heart pounding ferociously in her chest as if she'd just sprinted a mile. She'd been dreaming of Draco…and wolves…and blood. Peering around her in the semidarkness of the bedchamber, she pulled the covers back over her naked form, trying to figure out why she'd been awakened. All was calm and quiet from the open door of her balcony, and there seemed to be no disturbance in the wards, so what could it be? Just as she was about to nestle back down into the plush bed, there was a quiet knock at the door, immediately causing her to throw the covers aside. She quickly pulled on her usual red, silk robe and grabbed her wand from the bedside table before hurrying to open the door.

She was surprised to see Thor on the other side, and still in his casual Asgardian attire rather than armor. Anxiety prickled at her skin, as she examined his creased brow. "Is everything alright? Are Jane and Darcy okay? Did he—" She cut herself off, refusing to mention the insufferable git of mischief right now. He did not deserve her worry. Trying not to let the inner turmoil show on her face, Hermione stared up at Thor, trying to decipher his features.

"Everyone is well, Hermione. Heimdall has requested our presence at the Observatory. I apologize for waking you and any worry I may have caused. The guards said it was urgent." Thor ran a hand through his hair, pushing it from his face as he watched Hermione's eyes grow wide.

"Oh! I wonder if Harry has found something on Fenrir!" She immediately turned and grabbed her discarded clothes from the chair in the corner before darting behind the changing curtain to dress. "He promised to look into his whereabouts. I hope it's good news…" She trailed off as she pulled on her favorite worn jeans and a black, long-sleeved shirt. Once dressed, she stepped into a pair of boots and headed into the hallway where Thor awaited.

"I too hope for good news. If Fenrir is a mere myth, then we have one less situation to worry about." They walked in silence for a few minutes before Thor spoke again. "You were going to ask if my brother had escaped." Glancing up at Thor as they descended the main staircase, Hermione tried to hide her blush.

"I was."

"I suspected as much." She opened and closed her mouth, completely at a loss for words before Thor stopped her as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "You do not have to explain yourself to me, Hermione. After the way he treated you upon your return from Jotunheim, you are more than welcome to be as angry as you see fit." She looked away from Thor's understanding eyes, anger making her chest ache and tears threaten her eyes.

"It just doesn't make sense," she whispered, turning back towards her friend. "I only—I didn't want him to..."

"Do not worry about Loki. He will come to his senses, possibly" Thor smiled wryly. "He is a very complicated being. He is both proud and emotionally delicate. My father pitted us against each other so much growing up that he was forced to build a wall around his heart and soul. Loki allowed the darkness to overtake him, breeding until nearly all the light within was transformed." Rubbing his chin with a callused hand, Thor regarded Hermione with interest. "The past few weeks have been enlightening. The several times he has allowed me entrance into his bedchamber, I have seen a difference in him which I cannot place." Smiling gently, he sighed. "He asks of you often, though he would be angry I told you this."

Analyzing this information, Hermione inhaled deeply before turning and continuing their walk to get outside the palace. Upon their return from Joutnheim, Hermione placed an anti-Apparation ward on the grounds to ensure no one would be able to gain access without them knowing. Even weeks later, Hermione could still feel the fear at having Loki gripping her cloak, nearly lifting her from the ground as he glared into her face. Shaking herself, Hermione refused to think about that day. Right now, she needed to worry about what Harry had found out.

"It doesn't matter. I refuse to see him until he either plans to tell me about the Rime Diamond, or he is offering an apology. Until then, I will abide by his wishes and remain as far away from him as utterly possible."

Thor merely nodded as they breached the wards, Hermione sticking out her arm so Thor could hold on while she Apparated them to the Observatory. When they arrived, she wasted no time lingering in the doorway. Walking forward, she smiled up at Heimdall who was watching her approach with glittering eyes. Thor followed behind, his boots making more noise on the golden floor than her own. As she stopped in front of the pedestal where Heimdall awaited, Hermione pushed all thoughts of Loki aside, for the time being, so she could focus on Harry and the news he hopefully had for her.

"Hello, Heimdall. Is there news from the other Realm?"

Instead of answering right away, Heimdall lifted his sword and shifted it ever so slightly before letting it fall into place. The Observatory began rotating, causing Hermione to be thrown off balance. Thankfully, Thor used his free hand, steadying her to which she smiled appreciatively up at him. Once the movement ceased, Hermione again looked to the Protector. He was frowning—not a good sign.

"There has been much progress made by your friends down on Midgard. The request you bestowed upon the Chosen One was too large a task, so he enlisted another who means a great deal to you. Together, discovered the whereabouts of Fenrir…, but I believe the tale is best divulged from their mouths as there is much to report. They are calling for you even now, if you are prepared to travel to Midgard."

"I'll go straight away." She stepped forward, not wanting to wait a second more before hearing what Harry had to tell. She had just stepped in front of the Bifrost opening when she realized Heimdall had mentioned not only Harry, but another of her friends. "I'm sorry, did you say Harry and another person I care about found Fenrir?"

"I did."

"Who?"

"I believe his name is Draco."

"What—He…" Draco. Draco had helped Harry find Fenrir and he was on Earth at this very moment waiting to speak with her? A chill ran down her spine at the fragmented memories of her earlier dream. Were her dreams speaking to her again? Was it a side effect of having worn the Rime Diamond for so long? It couldn't be the diamond...she had returned the damned thing to Loki weeks ago when they returned from Jotunheim, and he had—Not now! "Okay. Send me…please."

"As you wish." Heimdall began to activate the Bifrost, but was stopped when Thor stepped forward, apprehension evident on his face.

"Do you need for me to travel with you? I would not mind."

Afraid to look her friend in the face right now, she merely shook her head. "I'll be alright, Thor. Thank you though."

"Very well. Be safe." She nodded once more before the Bifrost burst to life, pulling her forward and across the dimensions—back to Earth…back to Draco.

Her landing was more graceful than her past ones had been. Clearly, she was getting used to this form of travel. Before she truly had her bearings under control, she was being swept off her feet and into a bone-crushing hug. Recognizing the tussle of black hair in her vision, she relaxed, a smile upon her lips.

"Harry," she breathed, hugging her best friend and realizing she had missed him tremendously.

"I'm so glad to see that you're alright, Hermione. When you didn't come right away…I worried something had happened to you since last we saw one another." She tried to put a cheery look on her face—she really did—but all that formed was a sort of grimace. "What? What happened?"

"It's nothing really, Harry. He…Loki is not…We're not—We just don't understand one another as well as I thought we did. I'm sorry it took so long for me to get here. I put wards up on the palace so no one can Apparate inside or outside. I thought it would be safer that way."

"That's fine, and honestly, probably for the best right now. Did Loki hurt you?"

"No." Not really… "He just has a hard time accepting help. I'm not here to talk about him though. Tell me what you found out about Fenrir." It was at this time that she finally spotted Draco leaning against a tree. He looked like hell—deathly pale and a hollow appearance to the grey eyes she used to love staring into. Something was wrong with him—something bad. Deciding Harry's explanation could wait, she stepped around her best friend and made her way towards her ex-lover. Immediately he stiffened, pushing away from the tree and trying to smooth the disheveled hair from his face. "Hello."

"Hello." Those haunted eyes searched her face for far too long before he spoke again, voice dripping with disdain. "I'm glad to see you haven't been murdered by that horrid monster yet."

His words hurt, but she pushed the feeling aside for the time being. It was ages since he'd spoken to her about something other than work and the MLE. She would take it. "Loki won't hur—he won't murder me." It was harder to lie to Draco than it was to Harry. From the way Draco's eyes narrowed, she knew he didn't believe a word she said. He always had been able to see right through her, hadn't he? "Are you alright? You don't look…well."

Draco turned his head away, throat bobbing as he swallowed. "I'm fine." Returning his eyes to hers, the look he gave her made her body warm from the inside out—as if he wanted to eat her alive. She shivered in the cold, realizing she was not properly dressed for winter having left her cloak behind. Finally, Draco flicked his hair out of his face again before speaking. "We found Fenrir, but he got away. There's no fucking trace of him anywhere, so it's safe to assume he traveled to wherever the bloody hell you've run off to."

Hermione glanced back at Harry, ignoring the hurt feeling from how cold Draco was being with her. He nodded solemnly, confirming Draco's tale. "What happened? Did you engage him?"

"It was not the original plan, but the Romanian Ministry of Magic had their own plans when they heard about the Werewolf Army."

"Werewolf Army?"

"Fenrir has been creating Werewolves for quite some time. There were fifty or more Werewolves living in the mountains. Draco found them and contacted me. However, the Romanians set off a bomb and killed nearly all of them."

Hermione turned back towards Draco, fear developing in her chest. "You found the Werewolves? Did they hurt you?"

"If Potter hadn't been there, I'd have died." Draco looked away then, only making Hermione's anxiety grow worse.

"So what do we do now," Harry questioned, drawing Hermione's attention from her ex-lover. She was unsure where to go from here, but she knew returning to Asgard was needed as preparations had to be made.

"I have to go back. If Fenrir is coming, we have to make a plan. Asgard is the first place he'll come. There is an ancient prophesy that Fenrir will murder Odin—that he'll pierce his heart with his fangs." Draco growled, causing Hermione to whip her head back around, a chill running down her spine. He looked furious by what she'd said, his eyes nearly glowing in the light of the waning moon.

"Go back? This isn't your war, Granger—leave the immortals to their own fate."

Hermione stumbled back, as if he'd slapped her. Granger. It'd been years since that name graced his lips. Something was most definitely wrong here. Taking a few more steps back, she moved towards the safety Harry's presence tended to provide. Draco followed her forward, moving away from the tree, so he was more easily seen in the moonlight. It was her turn to rake him over with her eyes, examining every little detail she could see. There was a difference in him she couldn't place; something she was missing—something familiar but different all the same. Harry stepped up beside her and put an arm around her shoulder, comforting her like he always did.

"Relax, Draco. You know she has to go back to warn Thor and the others. They're in danger, and if nothing is done, Fenrir will do exactly like he said—kill them all and return for us too. You need to control your emotions and get it together. Hermione didn't do anything wrong; she's trying to help."

Glaring at Harry, Draco seemed to analyze the words before taking a shuddering breath and swallowing roughly. "You're right, as usual. I apologize." He turned his back on them then, shoving his hands into the jacket he wore. Hermione shared a curious look with Harry, who merely shrugged, just as confused as she was.

"Look, Draco, I know this all seems rather crazy. In fact, some days I find myself reeling from the absurdity of it all, but the fact of the matter is, we have a real problem on our hands. It appears as if Fenrir really is the one from Norse mythology, meaning he'll be coming for Odin at any time. I'm going to go back and keep him safe, possibly delay the inevitable. I need you and Harry to get Kingsley and everyone else prepped down here in case the fight comes to you." She was still talking at Draco's back, but she saw the slight slump in his shoulders that indicated he was caving. He always did for her, and would most likely continue to do so. If only she could place what was wrong with him.

"You go on, Hermione. I promise we'll take care of our side of things." Harry clapped her on the shoulder before bringing her in for another, much briefer hug. Even as he released her, Hermione couldn't ignore the uneasy feeling that made her stomach churn.

"I'll be in touch. I promise." Harry nodded, and she gave him a tense smile before stepping forward and placing a hand gingerly on Draco's shoulder, surprise overtaking her when he jumped, whipping around so there was a good three feet between them. "Draco, I don't know what you're not telling me, but I need to know that you're going to be okay." When still he said nothing, she sighed heavily and ran a hand through her curly hair. "I have to go, please—"

"I'm so sorry."

That was certainly not what she had been expecting.

"It's—it's alright."

"No, it's not." He stepped forward until they were breaths apart, hand coming up to cup her cheek. "I hurt you all those years ago, and here I am, doing it again." He sighed, the hand falling to his side. "Please know that anything that happens to me now—it's for your safety, and everyone else. Hermione I lo—"

Reaching upwards, she took his face in her hands, tears brimming her brown eyes at the sight before her. "No, you don't have to say it, Draco. I know. I know." Her heart felt like it was going to explode at the despair reflected in his grey eyes. Something was going on with Draco and Hermione had absolutely no clue what it was. It must be bad if he was willing to admit he still loves me. Letting go of his face, she stepped back, refusing to try to comfort him any further. It was painful to admit that she was not as gleeful as she thought she would be to hear Draco confess his true feelings to her. Instead, she just felt sadness, but not for herself—for Draco. Watching as Draco looked to one side, the dam behind his eyes finally breaking, Hermione backed further away. Her hand came up to cover her mouth as a sob of her own escaped. It was heart wrenching to see him lose it so completely.

If it hadn't been for Harry turning her away from her ex-lover, she would have continued to watch in abject horror as Draco mourned the loss of her love, because that was what it was, and he knew it. She no longer loved him the way he loved her, and Hermione had absolutely no idea when the change in her heart had occurred. Trying not to look back over her shoulder, she mumbled some sort of good-bye to her friend before looking skyward, mentally asking Heimdall to bring her home. No…it couldn't be. Could it?

Before she had a chance to dwell on the thoughts beginning to form in her head, she was swept up and away from Harry and the devastated Draco. When she landed in the Observatory, she fell to her knees, chest heaving with emotion as the tears finally poured from her eyes.

"Close the Bifrost," she screamed through her crying. "He's alive—seal us all in!" Thor wasted no time rushing to her side as Heimdall began securing Asgard. He pulled her to his chest, asking what was wrong, but Hermione could not get the words out. She could only manage to continue crying because she'd hurt the one person she thought she would always love. "What have I done?!" She did not miss the look Thor shared with Heimdall as he continued to hold her. Whatever Draco was going through to make him look haunted and break so easily, Hermione knew it could spell disaster for them all, especially her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Finally back home, Draco couldn't feel less at home than ever before. Scorpius was apparently staying with a friend, and Astoria was fast asleep in their bedroom, but he would not be joining her this night. He had snuck back into the Manor after the meeting with Hermione and sealed himself inside the bathroom in his father's old wing. Stripping off his tattered jacket, Draco looked at his pale face in the mirror. Reflected back were the haunted eyes of a man he did not recognize but would have to grow to know. He and Harry had only been home for a day, and already he could feel the changes occurring within his body. Not the changes from his broken heart…

Shuddering, Draco peeled away the collar of his shirt and examined the wound on his shoulder. Nope—still as fresh as when he first glimpsed it back in Romania. Draco knew what it meant of course, but that didn't stop the dread from making his skin crawl. He had less than a month to get his affairs in order before the inevitable happened. He only hoped there was enough time to save those he cared about; Hermione still included. It had been clear from her startled reaction that she no longer held a flame for his heart. Someone else had stolen her heart, and Draco suspected he knew exactly who that monster was.

Thankful of the silencing charm he had placed on the bathroom, Draco screamed at his reflection before punching the mirror, shattering his wrecked reflection into a million tiny pieces. Then, as if already he was feeling the beast come to life within him, Draco used his bare hands to tear the bathroom to pieces, just like Loki had done to his heart.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

End Notes: So there you have it. Fenrir is coming for them! Oh, and I am sure you can guess what happened to Draco. Any ideas as to what may happen in the next part? Here are some questions you might have fun answering…Why do you think Loki has shut Hermione out? How do you think Hermione will react when she finds out about the two Rime Diamonds? Do you think Loki realizes Hermione is falling in love with him? Actually, do you think Hermione even realizes it? And, what do you think is going to happen at the Engagement Feast? I look forward to reading your answers and theories. Also, I'm always looking for new music and would love if you could recommend some songs that make you think of Hermione and Loki! Until next time, my loves!
xx DustNight

(IMPORTANT! I am considering changing my penname to something more manageable—basically I want to get rid of the numbers and make it easier for people to search/remember it. Chances are this will happen next update. Be on the lookout. It will still have DustNight in it, I am just not sure exactly how I will change it yet.)