Author's Notes:

MAJOR revision to this chapter - the biggest changes yet. Includes two scenes I took out of the original fest story, as I felt it slowed down the pace. I've added them back in here for you for this revision. Revised the ending of the chapter completely, too. Hope it rounds the story out a little more for you!

*.*.*.*.*.*

DAY SEVEN

Day seven's dawn rose with Hermione standing at the mouth of the cave, looking out into the dark forest. The light from above barely penetrated the canopy, even in the winter. If she'd been a Muggle, she might have found the fact odd, but she was an educated witch, and this was a magical forest and not prone to the usual laws of Nature. This was a forest that was old, and wanted to remain secret from the world.

Somewhere out there the spiders were crawling closer. She could sense their endless hunger rolling ahead of them, like a heavy, hot steam upon her neck.

Steam. Heat. Fire.

It occurred to her quite suddenly how she might destroy the spiders. The problem was, with her and Draco trapped behind the barrier, they'd be killed by any blaze that she'd set if it were released too soon and without an escape plan firmly in place. Fire was an effective, reckless solution to the problem of the Acromantulas, but it could also mean death for her and her Werewolf lover.

The alternative was to take Theodore's offer and abandon Draco to his fate.

No, she'd never. Even after everything Hermione had learned yesterday about his part in the deaths of so many people—many of them her former friends and comrades-in-arms—she still couldn't leave him behind. The thought actually pained her, causing her heart to thump too hard under her ribs.

Fine, she could admit it: she'd come to... care... for him over the last few days.

No, 'care' was too light a word for it.

The truth was, she wasn't exactly sure she was ready to consider just how deep her feelings for Draco Malfoy might go, although she would admit to possessing a healthy dose of animal lust for him. Yet, she was equally as angry at him for having stood back and done nothing for the bulk of The Game's participants, and not even his repeated, gentler love-making last night could change that fact.

Despite that confused ball of emotions rolling around inside her, Hermione knew for absolute certain she'd never desert him. It wasn't who she was at her core, and she refused to allow the Death Eaters to turn her into a cold-hearted shell.

Of course, there was also a very practical reason for wanting to save Draco's hide: to try what Theodore Nott's mother had and to break the curse of the Werewolf. Nott was recessed and most likely incapable of giving her what she needed to be free of a monthly transformation, but Draco was an Alpha, and that just might do the trick. She'd try to find a way to help him escape this prison and in return, if they succeeded, he'd help her break the Werewolf curse.

Again, the thought of any disloyalty towards him caused her to feel queerly ill, and made her break out in a light sweat.

She had to do it! The thought of enduring monthly transformations, of the pain as her bones broke over and over again... She'd been unconscious through most of her first transformation, but the little she had experienced made it clear to her that she couldn't go through that again. She wanted to be free of all magical enchantments upon her, and breaking the Werewolf curse was top of the list.

Draco would fight her on it, of course. She would expect no less from him. But in the end, she knew she'd prevail by appealing to him with logic. After all, wouldn't he want her to come to him of her own free will, rather than be compelled to by some awful curse?

But before that, for her first, big trick, she needed a way to get Draco outside the barrier of the forest. Everything else was moot until she'd accomplished that much. Somehow, someway, she had to steal him past the wards like some kind of slippery fish...

A fish getting past the wards.

By God, that was it!

The answer to their problem came to her in a flash, and the solution was so simple, she laughed with joy.

Immediately, she opened her connection to pack, reaching out across the miles to Theodore Nott. To her surprise, it worked…and he was closer than she'd expected, as well – to the west of her current position, close to Hogwarts.

"Hermione?"

He sounded astonished to receive her call.

"How do the shackles in Azkaban work?" she asked, closing her eyes and concentrating hard. This was more difficult than she'd expected. "Is the spell melded into the metal or does it only work when activated by a wand?"

"The ones you wore, you mean? They're active the moment they lock around someone's wrists. The warding is built into the metal, no wand necessary. Why?"

"All I'd need to do was to lock them around a witch or wizard, and it would turn that person into a Squib, cutting them off from all magic, right?"

She could feel him trying to puzzle out why she'd ask such a thing.

"Theoretically, yes," he answered. "They'd become mundane immediately and remain that way until the shackles were removed."

That was good news. Now for the hard part.

"Have you ever worn them yourself?"

His hesitation was telling.

"I wanted to know what they did to you, and if they caused you any pain. I... I didn't want that for you. Please believe me. I never wanted that for you."

No time to have that discussion. It could come later, once they were out of this godforsaken place.

"Did you feel whether or not they affected the curse magic that makes you a Werewolf?"

He was quiet a moment, and she could feel his regret and nervousness pouring though the open conduit between their linked minds. Hermione had to remind herself not to sympathise too much, as he had sent countless innocents to their deaths. Yes, it had been to save his best friend and wolf-brother, but still...

"Honestly, I don't remember," he admitted.

"Can you get another set before tomorrow morning and try it out as an experiment?"

"I could, but I'd have to return to Azkaban. I just snuck out of there and hooked up with the Order so we can come get you tomorrow morning. First time in fifteen years I've breathed the free air, too, you know."

"Wait, you're actually part of the Order, not just helping them? Since when?"

That was news to her.

"I was Snape's protégé, so since fifth year," he admitted.

"The same year you bit Draco and made him part of your pack."

Wasn't that an interesting coincidence?

She could feel his embarrassment through their connection.

"Oh, he... um, told you about that, did he?"

"Were you trying to bring him over to the Order, too?"

Theodore sighed, and it came across as a heavy vibration in her skull.

"Yes. I waited too long to pitch the idea to him, though. By then, you and Potter had had Draco's father thrown in prison for the whole Ministry break-in thing. Draco refused to listen to anyone then. He was hell-bent on revenge, the bloody fool."

His dissatisfaction with the outcome of that event blanketed them both in a thick, humid fog of regret.

"Alright, I'll do it. I'll go back to Azkaban. If I'm caught, though, there will be questions about where I'd gone. Could get messy."

She knew what she was asking of him was very dangerous, maybe even suicidal, but there was no choice. They were running out of time.

"If you care for him as you say you do, it's worth the risk. If I'm right, cutting off the Werewolf's magical curse and turning him mundane might be Draco's only way to cross the barrier after being in here so long."

"I don't understand," Theodore admitted.

"Creatures without magic can move through the barrier freely," she explained. "The wards around the forest are only intended to keep magical beings and creatures trapped, because those are the only kinds of threats Voldemort was worried about restraining when he set it up. The mundane seem able to come and go as they please, however."

"How do you know?"

Hermione tried not to take Theodore's scepticism personally.

"One, because there are mundane creatures living in the forest right now that could not have been born in here. I'm standing at the entrance of the den and I'm staring, right this second, at a Hooded crow sitting on a tree limb across from me. He's been tagged with a Muggle bird band to track his movements for scientific study. As their species tends to live less than six years in the wild, and the barrier's been up for over fifteen, logic dictates that he wasn't hatched in the forest, but he must have flown in from outside. And two–" She cringed just remembering the details. "–Draco killed a Mermaid the day of my change, and brought her into the den for dinner."

She nearly gagged at the memory.

"He said he'd caught her because she'd followed some minnows into the shallows near the shoreline. Again, we see the barrier is indiscriminate as to magical status to get inside. However, when Draco chased the Mermaid, the fish were able to swim back through the barrier and escape out into the open Loch, but the Mermaid hadn't been able to follow them. Once she was inside the wards, she couldn't get back out. That was how he was able to catch her. A few days later, he brought in a dead Murtlap, which had followed in some wandering crayfish. Same deal – the crayfish got out, but the Murtlap was trapped. In both cases, the magical creature couldn't move out of the barrier, but the mundane creatures seemingly could."

"Holy shit."

Hope flooded through her from Theodore's end, and she felt his excitement levels jump three degrees.

"So, you think that cutting Draco off from all magic by using the shackles will change his aura, making him the same as a Muggle. That would force him out of phase with the barrier and thus able to cross it!"

"Exactly."

Theodore whooped in triumph.

"Merlin, I'd never considered that angle before! You're utterly brilliant, you know?"

"Yes, well, don't send the 'congrats, you're free' party invitations out yet," she cautioned. "My idea hinges on two important factors: first, the very slim chance that the shackles will not be shorted out by the barrier when they come into contact with it, and second, whether or not we can actually nullify a Werewolf curse. That's why I need you to go back to Azkaban and test it out. If it doesn't work..."

She left the rest unspoken, knowing what the consequence would be for Draco if they failed – death by spider or fire.

Thank Godric she still had that vial with the Draught of Living Death left.

*.*.*.*.*

Sometime later, as she sat and nibbled on a beef strip, sucking at it like a piece of hard candy to savour the rich, meaty flavour, she asked Malfoy the one question that had been niggling about in her head since the previous day.

"If you and Nott have been working together for years, and you're such good friends, then why did he try to warn me not to get too close to you?"

A deep, resonating growl reverberated around the cave, and she stopped what she was doing to stare at her partner with wide, wary eyes.

"Because where you're concerned, Granger, he's always challenged my authority. Since we were in school, he'd constantly hound me to leave you be."

"Why?"

He sighed in irritation.

"Why do you think? Do you really believe Voldemort just ignored you for the better part of the last several years, since your capture? Of course not! Theo's manipulated, schemed, and fought to keep you out of the Dark Lord's path and under his protection all that time. He's done it because he's wanted you for his mate since he was thirteen - and not just for sex and pups. He fancies himself in love with you."

That claim rounded her eyes and made her jaw drop.

"That's... impossible. If he was so enamoured of me, why did he let me rot in that prison?" she demanded, her incredulity morphing into anger in a flash.

"Because the Dark Lord wanted you under his thumb, and he tasked Theo to make sure you stayed there. If Theo had refused, he'd have been removed from his position, at best, or outright killed, and then someone else would have been your caretaker – someone like that bastard, Zabini."

He tossed a small stone into the hot spring, clearly agitated.

"The only reason Theo was able to get the Dark Lord to agree to toss you in here at all was because Voldemort thinks you're no longer a threat. Seems, my former Master is ready to move on to other, bigger ambitions, like planning to conquer the continent. Theo convinced him that your death would signify the successful end of the conquest of Britain, and the old fool bought it... All so I could get you in here to help me figure out a way to escape."

Something curious caught her attention, and of course, she couldn't help but poke at it. "Did you know that every time you say Theodore's name in my presence, you sound angry. Why is that?"

Draco seemed taken aback by that observation.

"No, I'm not... I'm... Fuck!"

He stood up and violently hurled another stone into the water, this time with force enough for it to make a 'kerplunk' noise when it hit the surface.

"He's everything to me! I owe him my life many times over and yet... yet... there's a part of me that wants to... to rip his sodding head off! "

His large, bestial hands curled into fists at his side as he struggled to contain his more aggressive nature.

Hermione was almost afraid to push for a reason, but when she opened her mouth to change the subject, instead she heard herself ask, "Is it because of me?"

Poke. Poke. Poke.

Draco's savage, wolf-grey eyes shot to hers, locking on, holding true.

"Wolves mate for life, Granger. Until one dies, the other will never let go. If we get out of here, brother or not, I'll not let Theo touch you again. So, don't do anything to make me kill him."

Surprise at such an unexpected declaration was her only excuse for not running as he came towards her and took her to the ground again. He was nearly all animal then, that spark of humanity that was his in between the fur and the sharp angles barely visible as the Lycan reasserted itself.

The female wolf within Hermione rose to greet him, more than willing, eager even to submit to her Alpha's claim once more. Quickly, she turned onto her hands and knees, presenting her backside to him, whining in the back of her throat with heat and need.

There was no pause, no foreplay. Draco mounted her and held tight to her hips to prevent her from fighting him off. Her body instantly reacted to his touch, of course, and she was more than ready and slick for him as he slid into her and claimed her once again.

He fucked her with strength, pounding deep and true, snarling in her ear the entire time to reinforce his claim as her mate.

"You will never let him touch you again," he growled in her mind. "You're mine."

The pleasure was so intense, so overwhelming and dizzying, that tears leaked down Hermione's cheeks. She moved with him, rocking her body in time with his as much as she was able to.

"God, don't stop! Don't stop!"

Pulling her up into a half-kneeling position, he pressed her back tight to his chest and pressed his muzzle to the mark at her throat.

"I'm going to knot you so fucking hard, you'll feel it deep in your heart," he promised her, and when he was ready to come, he did exactly as he'd vowed. He swelled so thick within her and locked their bodies together so tightly that when he began to spurt his release, not a drop of his seed was able to escape.

And yes, Hermione felt it...all the way through her wild she-wolf's heart.

*.*.*.*.*

"You know you're just buying time," she stated, allowing the hot water of the spring to soak into her sore muscles later. "They'll come here for you eventually."

God, she could feel the bruises at her hips and at the juncture of her thighs already purpling! Thankfully, she knew her altered genetics would heal them quickly, but for the moment, she could feel those spots without touching them. And she was so sore inside that she was finding it difficult not to wince every time she so much as twitched.

A part of her thought that what Draco did to her should be illegal. Each time he touched her, he messed her up, yet in the afters, he left her humming and hoping for more. Everything always hurt with him, and yet she'd never felt so sexually satisfied in her life. It was an unresolved conundrum, this battle between her head, her body, and her heart.

Draco lay on his side in the exact spot he'd collapsed after their rather athletic session, staring up at the ceiling. His pink tongue lolled from his mouth to advertise his supreme physical satisfaction. "

"What are you gibbering on about, Granger?"

"Acromantulas are a treacherous species—even more so than you Slytherins," she explained, tweaking an eyebrow at him for daring to refer to her commentary as 'gibbering'. "I bet they've been keeping tabs on you since you first got here. Probably have a sentinel stationed outside this cave all the time, perched somewhere in the tree line so you won't see them, just watching and waiting for the right moment. Their species hasn't survived several extinction events for nothing, you know."

His tongue rolled back into his mouth as he sat up, tossing her an adorably confused expression.

"I have no idea what an 'extinction event' is, although with a name like that, I could fathom a guess."

Oh, that's right. She'd forgotten that Muggle science wasn't something typically taught to pure-blood wizards...especially those born with a polished silver eating utensil in their mouths.

"Extinction events are massive and rapid sudden losses of biological diversity caused by some sort of catastrophic incident. The entire established food chain is disrupted world-wide as a result, sometimes even collapsing entirely in the more devastated areas. Asteroid impacts, super-volcano eruptions, gargantuan cyclonic storms that tear across wide swaths of land and ocean, and cross-species plagues are some such causes," she explained. "The last major extinction event was the K-T event, approximately 65-66 million years ago. It killed off the dinosaurs, as well as the pterosaurs, the mosasaurs, the plesiosaurs, the ammonites..."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Are we going to see the point any time soon, or do you just plan to talk me into the grave?"

She sighed.

Murder by strangulation could be considered a justifiable homicide under the right circumstances, right?

"The point, my impatient wolf, is that Acromantulas are an extant araneomorph spider, of the Family Ctenidae – the most venomous spiders the planet has ever known. Their evolutionary ancestry can be traced back 250 million years. Anything that could survive that long—that could not only endure, but recover from three of the five major mass extinction events in the history of the world—is not something you should ever let out of your sight. You should be spying on them, not vice-versa."

Malfoy scratched at his chest with his long nails and simply stared at her, silent and unblinking, as if willing her to understand what he wasn't saying.

She used the connection between them to probe his thoughts, to try to read him. The answer, when she found it, was astonishing.

"You have been spying on them."

He gave her a wolfish grin.

"Surprised to find out I'm no dummy, hmm?"

She rolled her eyes, and recalled one of his more witty come-backs from third year: "'Malfoys breed money, not morons'. I remember. So, tell me what you've discovered about the enemy that's got you so nervous."

Draco lost his amusement in a beat as the discussion turned suddenly serious.

"About a year ago, their old Queen was killed. Her successor has been mating and laying eggs like mad ever since, trying to solidify her hold over the nest. She's let her children feast on the older spiders to get them out of the way for her young. That distraction bought me about thirteen extra months I probably wouldn't have had. Now, though, they've thinned the herd out and have turned back to other prey in the forest."

"That's why you sent for me," she realised. "Because you knew your clock was running out. You were desperate to try anything that would help you escape."

He came and sat at the water's edge.

"Theo's told me you have a theory about how to accomplish that."

She filled him in on the details. He tossed her a proud grin when she was finished.

"Clever, my love-mate. I knew I could count on you!"

Hermione felt his sweet endearment tear a hole wide open in her chest and expose her in a way she hadn't thought possible with the likes of him.

"Don't call me that."

She crossed her arms over her breasts and sunk down low into the water, trying to ignore the way her cheeks heated upon hearing such a thing from him. Honestly, they hardly knew each other! Well, except in a very basic, very carnal way... And that was the point, wasn't it. Although Draco treated her better than her former Death Eater captors, she was still very much his prisoner, and had been brought here to serve his specific purposes.

"I'm not your love. You're just using me."

Draco was suddenly in the water up to his hips, his face in hers, his Alpha-ness a dominant force in her mind and on her heart. He didn't even need to snarl for her to feel his displeasure.

"I've had you, repeatedly, in just about every way possible. Just how intimate do we have to be for me to call you what you are to me?"

Firmly she shook her head, and refused to back down.

"A 'mate' is a term of endearment for someone you hold in high esteem and carry an abiding affection for, and a 'love' implies you actually feel something of that same emotion for the person. You don't like me as a friend, Draco, much less love me. You want me. That much is obvious. But loving someone and wanting them are two entirely different matters. Wanting doesn't require you to respect me at all, which you clearly don't."

His head snapped back as if she'd slapped him, and his ears and eyes flared with surprise at that accusation.

"I'm not an idiot, you know," she hissed, working herself up into a righteous fury. "You probably could have held out when I went into heat, but you didn't even attempt to do so, did you? You intentionally gave me a mating mark so that if I did get pregnant, I couldn't do to you what Theodore's mother did to the Werewolf who mated her and just leave without a backward glance. As your marked mate, I'm now tied to you on a deeper level, in a way that's intrinsic and sacred to wolves. I felt it earlier when we‒"

She cut herself off, refusing to give a name to what they'd done, as it was hard enough to admit that her feelings had been manipulated so spectacularly by the one man in the universe she should have known better than to trust.

"In doing what you done, you've made sure I'll emotionally pay if I try to leave you later. I'll feel your loss for as long as I live, won't I, just as you feel Pansy and Astoria and Cho's loss even now?"

He said nothing, but from his defeated posture, she knew she'd hit the nail on the head.

"You selfish bastard!" She stood up and poked him in his furry chest, her anger making her daring. "If you'd really loved me at all, you'd have put my needs first—including my need for freedom. I've been a prisoner for half my life, living under horrible conditions, just as you have, and yet even knowing that and experiencing it for yourself, you had no intention of giving me the power to choose my own life!"

God, it hurt to know her suspicions, doubts, and fears over the last couple of days were actually legitimate notions, and that Draco had duped her all along.

The truth, she suddenly realised, was not a relief. Instead, it fettered her as surely as Azkaban's abominable shackles had done.

"How could you do this to me, Draco? How could you?"

That last was uttered on a sob, and she quickly turned away, giving him her back, as she furiously wiped at the tears on her cheeks.

"So, no, I don't consider you my mate or my true love, and I'll ask you not to call me either of those things again."

Waves of deep disappointment and regret rippled through the bond that connected them. It swelled around her, nearly buckling her knees with its intensity.

Climbing out of the water, Draco stalked out of the cave without a word, his hurricane of emotions billowing after him, leaving Hermione wondering how they moved on from here. She broke down into sobs. How could she possibly forgive him for what he'd done? Could she never trust him? Would he help or hinder her attempt to get to the barrier near Hagrid's cottage tomorrow morning?

No, he would most certainly help her escape, despite this fight, if only because he knew she'd never leave him behind. Self-preservation was, after all, a very Slytherin priority.

TO BE CONTINUED...