Ooh, I'm on a roll. My last update was what, four, five days ago? Well, I'm crankin' it out now, but I have a feeling I'm going to hit a brick wall a couple of chapters from now.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Nothing. Just the cabin. And the idea for spirit forms. Everything else is JKR's and S. Meyer's.

Chapter Five

~Wolves~

That evening, Severus and Hermione Apparated back to the woods where their cabin was. Silently, a small frown wrinkling her brow, Hermione led the way through the wards, which all bent around her and Severus, letting them through to the cabin door. They both placed their palms flat on the door, and it swung open to admit them.

Severus watched as Hermione crossed the living room and placed her small beaded bag, which she'd had with her the entire afternoon at the Cullens' home, on the coffee table. She knelt on the floor between the futon and the coffee table and opened her beaded bag, reaching inside.

He'd heard tales of her small bag with its Undetectable Extension Charm, but hadn't really seen it in action until now; this morning – was it only then? It seemed so long ago – she'd already had her belongings from her time in the rainforest packed when they'd met up to depart. He watched with interest now as her arm disappeared into the bag, clear up to her shoulder.

She rummaged around for a moment before pulling her arm back out with a sigh of resignation and said, "Accio lente books." Instead of zooming out all at once, the books emerged in a steady flow, giving her time to guide their orderly flight to a place on the bookshelves. They seemed to be already organized, by subject first, and then by subtopic, and then by author.

Once the books were on the shelves, she began summoning other things from her bag and, little by little, turning the cabin from a temporary accommodation into more of an indefinite one. He allowed her to do so, knowing she was dissatisfied by the end to their stay at the Cullens's home and needed something to occupy her while she sorted her thoughts out. While she organized the cabin to be more comfortable for them, he went to the kitchen to start dinner.

Ultimately it had been decided to not inform Charlie quite yet what was going on, in order to avoid causing him to panic or having him come to the Cullens demanding to see his daughter, which would stress Bella out. Hermione had been promised that once the baby was born and Bella stabilized, then Charlie could be informed. The Cullens had also agreed that she might tell Charlie that she and Severus had found Bella, alive and more stabilized but still too ill for him to visit, and that they were now working on curing her. Should he ask why they could see her but he couldn't, they'd tell him that they thought that what was wrong with her was something that wouldn't affect witches and wizards, which, had she been truly ill rather than slowly dying from internal injuries and starvation due to the half-vampire child growing in her womb, would have been the case anyway. Most Muggle illnesses had no effect on witches and wizards, just as magical ones did not affect Muggles.

By the time Severus was finished cooking the pasta with chicken and pesto that was to be their dinner and Hermione was finished furnishing and decorating the cabin, she still hadn't said anything. They ate mostly in silence, but when they finished, Hermione looked at him.

"Thank you, Severus, both for cooking and for letting me have time to myself to think things over. I'm still not satisfied with how things went, but I've accepted them for the time being. Now I'm going to work on ways to protect her body from her child," she said. She drained the last bit of wine from her glass and put it down before looking back up at him, tilting her head as she gazed at him in thought.

He raised an eyebrow at her, but before he could begin to really get uncomfortable with her scrutiny and therefore become defensive and snide as he asked her why she was looking at him like that, she spoke again. "Did you know that the tribe leaders from the rainforest told me that a person who is already an Animagus is able to learn more quickly how to access other animal forms than someone who is not an Animagus at all yet? Their methods of teaching you how to shape-shift are still quicker than the methods taught at Hogwarts, even if one isn't an Animagus already, but it seems they've had several guests in the past who were Animagi but could only access one form, and they all learned within a few hours how to access other forms. It took me a few days to learn, but once I had learned, it came so naturally that I was soon able to help teach the tribe youngsters who were just learning to make the changes themselves. They start learning to deliberately use magic much sooner, by the age of five or six, and by the age of ten, they start learning how to shape-shift. Tell me, Severus, did you ever become an Animagus? If not, would you like to learn as they taught me in the rainforest?"

In answer, Severus stood and took a rapid step forward, raising his arms at the same time. Two seconds later, a black hawk sat perched on the half-wall between kitchen and living room. Hermione smiled at him; she pushed back her chair and mimicked his rapid step, raising her arms as he had, and two seconds later, a beautiful brown hawk sat beside him on the wall. He blinked in surprise at her, but after a moment, to his even grater surprise, he found himself turning to her and beginning to preen her feathers for her.

He felt her own surprise in her hesitation to react, but after another moment, she began to return the favor. When their mutual preening session was done, he spread his wings and flapped off the wall, shifting as he landed until he was back in his human form. He looked back at the brown hawk that still sat on the wall. "If you are not…averse…to teaching me," he began quietly, "I would not be averse to learning how to access other forms."

In answer, Hermione landed beside him, also shifting as she landed, and said, a pleased smile on her face, "Come on, then. Let's go outside. We have to be outside for this to work."

He followed her outside, and they sat on the forest floor about ten yards from the cabin. He copied her position, legs crossed, back relaxed though not hunched, and hands resting on the ground on either side of him.

"The key is to realize and accept the fact that ultimately, we, just like the animals we try to become, come from the earth," she said, her voice slipping into a less self-important version of the know-it-all lecturing voice he'd heard from her as a student. "We come from the earth, and someday, no matter what measures we take to preserve our bodies after we die, we will return to the earth. No matter how great our minds make us, we were born and we will die. The first step is to reach into yourself and find the source of your magic. No, it's not a wand," she told him with a shake of her head as she saw his hand twitch to where his wand was stowed. "Magic comes from inside us, it's just channeled from our bodies through a wand. Find the magic inside. Then, once you've found the source of your magic, send your power out and search for the feeling of the magic of the forest and the earth around you. The easiest way I've found to do that is to close your eyes and just listen to the sounds of the forest. Concentrate on the sounds you hear and listen for more as you let everything else fade away. Soon, listening to the forest will become accepting that you are part of the forest, part of the earth that everything comes from."

She watched as he followed her instructions and knew when he'd slipped into the trance that comes with losing oneself in the sounds of the forest: the birds twittering, the squirrels chittering, the living leaves rustling in the wind, and the dead leaves whispering dryly across the forest floor. She let him be for a few moments, allowing herself to examine him while he was unaware of her scrutiny.

Severus Snape was not possessed of the kind of face one would immediately think of upon hearing the word "handsome." Instead, his was the kind of face that one might look at only once and never really pay attention to again, but should a second look occur, the attention was always snared. She'd always had to work to keep herself from getting caught just gazing at his face. The most accurate word she could come up with to describe his appearance was striking. His eyes, as black and sharp as a piece of uncut obsidian, his hair, as dark as the feathers on a raven's breast, his nose, strong and sensitive, his lips, usually mashed into a flat line as he scowled and thus masking their true fullness, and his beautiful hands, long and powerful, all captivated her more completely than any man had before him.

She was suddenly pulled from her musings on his appearance when she realized how it was changing. As he lost himself in listening to the forest, he started taking on features of some of the animals he could hear. As he heard the sound of certain birds, feather patterns started tracing themselves onto his skin so that he appeared to have strange tattoos over his entire body. As he took on a bird's hearing and caught the sounds of quieter animals, he started taking on their features instead, such as the russet-and-white fur of the red fox. He also apparently started getting a taste of some of their instincts as well, because just as his fur had turned a dark brownish-gray and his ears had migrated up his head and turned into the impossibly long ears of a jackrabbit, something he heard startled him badly enough to break his concentration. He jerked where he sat, his eyes snapping open as he gasped, the fur fading from his body and ears returning to normal.

As his eyes focused on her, his disorientation faded quickly. He saw the small smile on her face, as if she were waiting for him to come to some realization she'd had long ago. "It wasn't all in my head, was it?" he asked her, and she confirmed his guess by shaking her head. "First I heard a variety of birds, and then I heard things I've never heard before, things I can't identify."

"Well, the more you listened, the more you opened yourself up, at least subconsciously, to the possibility of turning into these animals. And so, as your mind opened to the possibilities, your body reflected each one. I know you heard different birds, because your skin started taking on a feather pattern, and after that I could tell you were also taking on a bird's hearing, because then you starting taking on features of quieter animals, like a red fox and then a jackrabbit. And then you started to have a taste of their instincts, because just as your ears turned into the ears of a jackrabbit, you startled out of it. What did you hear next that frightened the jackrabbit?" she inquired. As she spoke, her voice was completely non-judgmental; likely she'd seen this sort of thing happen often enough in the rainforest that the sight of a man growing fur or a jackrabbit's ears or feathers was something she was used to.

"It's odd. I thought I heard a pack of wolves. At least, that's what the rabbit was frightened of, but I could have sworn that what I heard was much, much bigger. To a rabbit the difference between a wolf and a rabbit would be like the difference between a horse and a person, but this was more like the difference between an elephant and a person."

Hermione frowned. It made no sense. No wolf got that big. And how had she not heard it? Had she really been so preoccupied by observing his changes that she'd forgotten to use her own more advanced senses?

She shook off her ponderings as she realized that Severus was now looking at her expectantly.

"Well, now that your mind is more open to different possibilities and you can take on different forms involuntarily just as you listen, let's try to control what form you take. First try listening for a specific creature. Try listening for the fox again. You should find now that if you concentrate, your hearing will sharpen enough for you to focus it on the sounds of a fox. Concentrate on listening for the fox, and your body will start to change automatically. As it changes, try to pay attention to how the changes feel and try to envision yourself changing, so that you can later try again without listening for that animal first."

She watched as he obeyed, and found herself marveling at how quickly he picked it up. Likely his work as a spy had honed all of his senses until they were far above average for a human being; it took him no time at all to pinpoint the sounds made by a fox, and apparently even less time for him to memorize how it felt and looked for him to make the change. Just ten minutes and she was looking at a large black fox, sitting up straight with its white-tipped tail curled about its forepaws and its eyes closed.

"Open your eyes, Severus," she murmured, leaping to her feet. Even as his name faded from her lips, she shifted.

He did so and found himself staring at the world through the eyes of a fox. His eyes automatically moved up to where he thought Hermione's face should be, but he was confused when it wasn't there. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eyes, however, and looked just in time to see what his fox instincts knew was the most beautiful vixen, its silver fur tipped in black with black ears, muzzle, and feet, he would ever see in his life pouncing on him.

Just like that, instinct took over and he leaped after the vixen. So began a rousing game of chase that lasted a good twenty minutes. It would have lasted longer for the silver vixen, still young and full of energy, if not for the fact that her more mature companion decided he'd rather continue to explore his new-found shifting abilities rather than continue to play. So he returned to his original human form, still clothed, and sat back on the ground. She came to sit before him, choosing to remain in her fox form.

"So now that I have shifted into the form of a fox simply by envisioning myself doing so, I should be able to do the same with any other form?" he inquired. Of course, he imagined it would take more concentration for those forms he hadn't heard, forms he'd only ever seen.

She yapped in affirmation.

Nodding, he decided to close his eyes and try for a form that didn't live here in Washington, a form he'd seen up close but hadn't even had the chance to touch yet.

Hermione blinked in surprise when, seconds after he closed his eyes, she found herself gazing into the yellow eyes of a black panther, clearly of the same genus as her jaguar. She also found it interesting that of the three forms she'd seen him take on fully so far, all were black.

Caught in the golden gaze of the great black cat before her, the small vixen got to her feet. She shook out her fur, and shifted as she did so, so that she appeared to be shaking herself out of one form and into another; it was perhaps the most artfully done transformation Severus had ever seen, and he found himself transfixed once more.

The two great cats watched each other for a moment before then closing the distance between them to sniff at each other's faces. Then, without quite realizing what they were doing, they were rubbing sinuously against each other. Had she stopped to analyze their behavior, Hermione, who'd taken a recent interest in wildlife and had learned and read as much as she could during her stay in the rainforest, taking one or two rare trips into the nearest South American Muggle cities to find books on local and global wildlife and animal behavior, would have been embarrassed. They were acting like two cats going through courtship rituals, rubbing against each other and spreading their scent all over each other's bodies. But of course, neither of them thought of this. They were caught up in everything that being a cat meant.

The rest of the evening was spent inside, helping Severus explore his new shape-shifting abilities, as well as the other traits that came with it, particularly the enhanced senses; ever since her time in the rainforest, the ability to take on any animal form she chose came with enhanced senses as sharp as some of the animals she transformed into. She could see in the dark as well as a cat, and her sense of smell was even better than a wolf's. Her hearing was nearly as acute as a bat's as well. So it was to be expected that Severus's senses would develop similarly.

Severus quickly found several forms that he liked better than others. He loved the sheer liquid power of the panther form, the fox form suited his natural inclinations toward stealth, and his original hawk form provided a freedom other forms couldn't with its ability to fly. But one of his absolute favorites, he discovered, was one of Hermione's as well. The wolf might not have the same kind of liquid power of the panther or provide the same freedom as the hawk, but it could be nearly as stealthy as the fox, and its stamina was unparalleled. Then there was the fact that it seemed that in this wolf form, he could still perform small acts of magic.

When he first transformed into the wolf, he heard Hermione gasp. He looked up at her to see what was wrong, and saw her coming toward him with a look of awe on her face. She shifted even as she approached him, so that she fell gracefully forward even as she moved, to walk on all fours, and by the time she reached him, he found himself staring in shock at a white wolf that actually seemed to shine.

You've found your spirit form, Severus, and it's just like mine! she exclaimed, and he was even more shocked to hear her in his head.

How am I hearing you? he wondered. And what is a spirit form?

The spirit form is the form we take that still retains magical abilities other than the ability to shift to another form. Not every witch or wizard has the same abilities in their spirit form as another; for instance, I've discovered that in this form I have a minor control over the elements and the earth. I can't start a fire or make it rain, but I can produce some water from my fur and I can help things grow. You may also have noticed that I shine. I can actually control the intensity of the shine and can light up an enclosed space. You'll probably have different abilities. As for how you can hear me, finding your spirit form opens the mind to be able to speak with others who have their spirit forms, through thought.

As she spoke, she led them into her bedroom, where there was a full-length mirror on one wall. She led him to stand before it, and it was then he could see what she meant by his form and hers being similar.

As with the other forms he'd completed, this one was black. But the difference was that, while his other forms had black fur or feathers that possessed a particular sheen from reflecting whatever light hit him, this one had no such sheen, as if light completely avoided his fur like a shadow. In fact, if not for the gleam of his eyes, nose, and teeth, all of which did reflect light, an outsider might think him the shadow of a wolf instead of a wolf in the flesh.

He was brought back from his musings on his own form by the realization that Hermione was trotting away. She went back outside, her steps bouncy and her tail waving happily. He followed, and as soon as they were both outside, she whirled, her tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of her mouth in a happy wolf grin. Her canine instincts taking over, she threw herself forward, her forelimbs against the ground while her tail remained in the air, still waving back and forth. It seemed she wanted to play. She jumped a little from one side to the other, trying to entice him to play, and when he simply watched her, she tried to pounce on him. Of course, it didn't work, as he immediately sent her tumbling off her feet. He did the same thing the second time she tried it, so she changed tactics. She sidled around him, and he was just turning his head to follow her with suspicious eyes when he felt a sharp, almost painful tug on his tail. He whirled, jaws snapping with a growl, only to realize that she'd taken off, laughing madly in his head.

As much as Severus might have resisted, the shadow-wolf just couldn't let that go. So he gave chase. It quickly evolved into a game of hide-and-seek, however, when, just as he was catching up to her, she whirled and nipped his neck before dancing away again. She managed it twice more before he decided to change the game and melted away to hide. When she realized he wasn't chasing her anymore, she stopped, head tilted curiously. She turned and loped back a ways to the place she'd last seen him. When she couldn't spot him, she put her nose to work.

As she approached his hiding spot, he waited for the right moment. Then he pounced. Once more, a shocked Hermione was sent tumbling off her feet, this time finding herself on her back, belly up with him standing triumphantly over her. When she tried to roll back onto her feet, he growled. She tried again, only to have the same result. Now worried that he was angry with her, she whined. Carefully, stretching only her neck, she touched her nose to his and licked his muzzle apologetically. He huffed, as if considering whether or not to accept her apology. Then, apparently decided, he moved aside to let her up, nipping her neck as she got to her feet as if to remind her to behave. Together, they moved back toward the cabin.

As the evening and their explorations and experimentations progressed, Severus became more and more enchanted by the young witch he'd accompanied to Washington. He was captivated by so many things he'd never paid attention to while she was in school, as well as things he'd noticed but hadn't considered in the same context. He found himself truly appreciating her utterly brilliant mind while coming to realize at the same time that she had acquired a playfulness, probably in the rainforest, that she hadn't had at Hogwarts. Perhaps her experiences had taught her to enjoy life as much as she could, while she could. Regardless of its origin, that playfulness made him feel lighter himself, even if he wasn't quite as inclined to play as she was.

One other thing in particular that he noticed was a particularly tantalizing scent that lingered about her, a faint smell of roses under-laid by the natural scent of a woman, along with something completely unfamiliar. The tendrils of that unknown aroma curled into his nostrils and seemed to make its way into his bloodstream; he had to deliberately force himself to not think about it lest he lose control over his own body's reactions, and he'd rather not be made, even by his own body, to feel like a lecherous old man.

The morning after she and Severus had met the Cullens for the first time, she came to the kitchen of the cabin to find it deserted. That was odd. From what she recalled from her Hogwarts days, he was an early riser; even as she arrived earlier than most students in the Great Hall for breakfast, he was always already eating there. She'd expected to awaken to the faint sounds he made as he went about preparing for his day.

When she saw the note Severus had left her on the table, she realized she must have been more exhausted by the events of the previous day than she had first thought. Apparently he'd carried out his normal morning routine, but when she hadn't put in an appearance, he'd checked on her to find she was still sound asleep. Knowing there was nothing for her to do of such importance that she needed to wake up at a certain time, he decided to let her be. He'd gone off on some errands and would return for lunch. He'd left her a mug of fresh coffee and a plate of fresh waffles topped with strawberries and chocolate sauce, just the way she liked them, all under a constant warming charm to keep them hot.

She was halfway through her breakfast when she felt a disturbance in the outermost wards around the cabin, the ones that alerted her to an approaching presence. The very next layer of wards, the layer that indicated whether or not said presence was magical, was tripped next, followed a second later by the one that indicated whether said magical presence was dangerous. She knew that should the intruder continue to approach, they would encounter the repellent wards that would hopefully keep them out, and she knew it would take a fairly powerful witch or wizard to even sense the wards, and an even more determined one to attempt to break them, but right now, the knowledge that the present intruder was both magical and dangerous brought Hermione to full awareness.

She abandoned her breakfast and left the cabin. She shifted to her white wolf form, more practical for most areas of the Northern Hemisphere than the jaguar, as soon as she was outside the cabin, and set off in the opposite direction from the intruder, in order to get outside the wards before approaching him. Once she was outside her wards, she circled back around, tracking the intruder with every ounce of stealth she possessed.

She very nearly growled aloud when she saw the Death Eater. It was Malfoy Senior, Draco Malfoy's father, who had miraculously managed to escape the Aurors and had gone on the run. Had he fled here to North America? Or was he here in Forks because he had somehow found her and Severus and was after one of the two of them?

Whatever the case, she wasn't about to let him go free. So she trailed him a ways, waiting for her chance. She needed a moment that would allow her enough time to pounce on him, shift, and disarm him before he could work out what had happened and attack.

Ironically, it was her absorption in watching for the right moment to attack that proved to be the failure of her attempt to capture Malfoy. So focused had she been on sneaking up on Malfoy that she'd failed to consider that these woods might be inhabited by more than just vampires and nonmagical woodland creatures. And she'd failed to notice that her sudden appearance on the outside of her wards had caught the attention of creatures that were neither vampires nor common woodland creatures, and that they in turn were stalking her.

The wolves had been shocked at the abrupt appearance of the white wolf, as if she'd just stepped out of thin air, but they had been able to keep enough control over their shock that they were able to remain undetected by her. She seemed to not be paying as close attention to her surroundings as she ought, as if she were hyper-focusing on one thing. Curious, they decided as a pack to follow her.

The pack was tense as they followed the wolf. She behaved as if she were stalking something, and though whatever she hunted could just be the average doe, the appearance of a wolf in an area the pack had clearly marked as their territory for many miles made them uneasy. She could just as easily be a rogue wolf looking for a fight, or worse, for easy pickings among the area's human residents. Therefore, she was a threat until proven otherwise.

In addition, there was something about the wolf that seemed off. They had little reason to believe that she was anything other than a wolf, but all the same, there was an aura about her that seemed almost supernatural. For one thing, she was so white she would make the untouched snow that blanketed the forest in the winter appear gray, and if the wolves stared hard enough, they could detect a faint shine to her fur that had nothing to do with the sunlight shining on the clearing. It was more like her body shone with a light produced from within. And there was something else about her, and her smell, that called to the males in particular. Even those who were utterly wrapped around the fingers of their human imprints, their life-mates, could feel a primal urge rising within them, though the feeling wasn't nearly as powerful in them as it was in those who were not yet imprinted. Had they been more familiar with the instincts and reproductive physiology of canines other than themselves, they would have realized exactly what it was that called to the canine instincts they did have.

All the males felt this urge, particularly the large russet male, who had so recently spent a period of several months in this form and so was much more easily overtaken by his wolf instincts. He felt an inexplicable need to possess and dominate the white wolf, to make her his for as long as he wanted her. And unlike the others, some of whom were imprinted and all of whom were simply uneasy with the idea of trying to mate the white wolf because it would feel too much like bestiality since they were all technically human, he found himself unable to care much. His wolf instincts were taking over fast, and to the wolf in him, he and the white female were the same species, only he was bigger. Had he retained more of his human instincts, he would have resisted at the very least because he was twice the size of a normal wolf and so was almost twice the size of the white female – who was larger than the average wolf herself – but the wolf only saw the size discrepancy as another advantage that would allow him to dominate her more easily.

So it was with a single-mindedness borne of sexual frustration and a broken heart that he followed his pack as they tailed the white female, and it wasn't long before they all learned just what – or who, rather – her intended prey was.

She was indeed stalking a human, and now there was no more doubt in the minds of the pack that she was a threat and must be stopped. If they couldn't drive her off, they'd have to kill her. But the russet male was determined that he would possess her once before they killed her, or, if they drove her off, then he would follow for a while until he tired of her.

The other pack males might have made more of an effort to dissuade him if not for the fact that they all felt a similar desire, in varying degrees of power, to take and dominate her. Since the Alpha was already happily imprinted and would not be giving in to those urges, there was no one to stand in the way of the russet male, who was second-in-command and not yet imprinted, when he decided to pursue her. They would defer to him.

They watched as the white wolf closed in on her prey, and they knew the moment she decided to attack. When she leapt for her quarry, jaws open and a fierce growl tearing from her chest, the pack also leapt into action.

Hermione found her chance, found an opening that would allow her to catch Malfoy before he could fight, and wasted no more time. She leapt out from her cover, jaws open and a fearsome snarl erupting from them, but to her dismay and fury, before she could even come in contact with the Death Eater, a massive blunt force hit her in the side and knocked her sideways. She was struggling to her feet, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Malfoy turn to see what the sudden commotion was about. He quickly figured out that he'd come close to being attacked, and he turned on the spot and vanished just as Hermione lunged forward once more.

Her jaws closed on thin air where the Death Eater had just been; he was gone, and Hermione had missed him. And it was all because of a pack of oversized, meddling dogs!

Snarling in fury and frustration, she turned on the wolf that had attacked her, the silver female, and unleashed her rage on said female, leaping for her throat. She didn't manage to rip out the silver female's throat, but did manage to lock her jaws around a large chunk of fur that formed the ruff about the silver wolf's neck, and though the silver wolf was a lot bigger, Hermione's weight was still enough to knock the silver wolf off her feet.

Since the white wolf had targeted the silver female who'd tackled her, the pack males hung back a bit. They wanted to allow the silver female to prove herself in a fight, as she hadn't had the chance yet. She was doing fairly well at first, but it soon became apparent that the white female, though only just over half their size, was vicious in a fight and that the silver female had been unprepared for such fierceness. If the silver female wasn't careful, or if the males didn't intervene, the white female could kill her. When the silver female was thrown once more to the ground, bleeding and in pain, the males realized she was taking too long to get back on her feet. When they saw that the white female was about to go in for the kill, they intervened.

The fight was intense, and loud. Growls and snarls reverberated through the forest as the white wolf fought them fiercely, but finally, the pack was able to overcome her, largely due to the russet male's determination. They were even able to bring her down without killing or even seriously injuring her. It seemed that more than anything, trying to fight so many wolves so much larger than herself had simply exhausted her.

Without much further ado, the pack moved back, some of them nursing injuries, while the russet male moved in, his hungry eyes fixed on the white female. She was his for the taking.

The white female lay there, too exhausted to move, though her mind screamed at her to get up and run, forget fighting, as she watched the big russet male move toward her. Though Hermione's human mind was still present within the wolf's body, the wolf's mind and instincts were also present, blended with her own so that she could think, analyze, and solve problems like a human but with many of the wolf's instincts and behaviorisms. So her wolf instincts and her knowledge of the wolf's social tendencies told her exactly what the russet male was after. And while the wolf might have accepted it as a result of having been defeated, the woman knew that if she didn't get up and run, or shift back to human form, now, then he would get it, too.

Well, there was no way in hell she was going to let herself be raped by a wolf on steroids, and so she fought through the haze of exhaustion the fight had brought her, trying to concentrate and call up the shifting magic. But she realized with growing panic that she couldn't call it up. In her exhaustion, she couldn't shift back for whatever reason. She'd have to run.

Adrenaline pounded through her veins and enabled her to get to her feet. Her quivering muscles had no time to muster what little strength she had left; she had to move, now.

The russet male was only a few steps away from the white female when she hauled herself to her feet, legs trembling, and took off running, desperation and her small size lending her speed and agility.

But while her smaller size made her faster, the male's longer legs and more powerful muscles enabled him to cover the same distance in the same time. He took off after her with a snarl, his pack following behind him.

Unlike the female, however, the male was not exhausted and injured; she stumbled as she ran, while he devoured the distance between them at an alarming rate.

The white female could feel the sheer desperation and utter terror coursing through her body, and she continued to try and call up the shifting magic that would return her to her true form and enable her to use her wand. Whilst in the form of the white wolf, she had some magical ability, but it was not anything that would save her life. She needed to be able to use her wand.

But still the magic wouldn't come, and she grew more panicked. Finally, exhaustion caused her legs to stop working properly, and she stumbled, her legs giving out beneath her. She fell, sprawled on the forest floor, panting and gasping for breath.

She struggled once more to get up, but only managed to get her legs beneath her body, and then it was too late. The russet male was there, and she fought desperately to get away, but he overpowered her. Simply by sinking his large jaws into the back of her neck, he was able to immobilize her; she couldn't hold back a mix of terrified yelps and snarls as he began to mount her.

Just when she thought she was lost…

Heheheh, cliffhanger. Gotta keep your attention somehow. So as promised, we have a cameo by Malfoy Sr. and a longer appearance by the pack. Next, who saves Hermione's virtue? And just how heated will things become between her and Severus? Stay tuned!

RP13