Heads up: The following chapter contains German parts. Translations can be found at the end of the chapter.

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2. August 1996

She felt so weak, while being strong as a giant. Her eyes, her skin, her ears and nose hurt her with the impressions they delivered. She was so powerful, she felt is as clear as she felt the remains of her last prey beneath her. Hermione wondered if this was how Dumbledore or Voldemort saw the world. To her it had become an alliance of realities, pushed together to form what the people around her called truth. She could form it at her will. She could will reality to be something else. Normal spells – little things like Stupors, Reductos and Expelliarmus – they came to her by thought and nothing more. She only used her hands and a motion for huge, difficult spells that took much of her power. She did not dare to think what she would be able to do with a wand.

All of her power, she thought, was born from blood. With every piece of human she swallowed, more power came to her. At first, she was horrified by her actions. She justified it by saying that she couldn't do anything, that she was not responsible. Her fourth victim, a wizard barely out of Hogwarts, had made her realize that she was, in fact, responsible. She wanted this, even if she was too afraid to admit it. Within her, voices called out for more blood, more flesh, more violence.

Her fifth victim, another wizard, but old and experienced, made her fight the first time. It had been such an intense sensation to smell his adrenaline and terror. She made the duel long and nurtured his hope with small mistakes. Whenever he dared to think of his escape, Hermione shattered his hopes with a brutal attack. His screams of frustration were just a bit short of being as good as his last breath. While she teared through his body, her heart broke as she admitted that she needed this. This was her life now.

Now she sat over the remains of her latest victim. The woman had just come from a bachelorette party. Hermione had smelled her intoxication as she stepped into the cab that brought her back home. She followed the taxi, broke into the small house it stopped before and broke into it with a simple spell. Not even that, she remembered. She just had to think about the window opening and it did as she commanded. She had commanded the light to hide her and it did so. The young woman never saw her when she entered her bedroom and stripped naked to sleep. This time, Hermione hadn't been hungry. This time, she had done it because she knew she could. When the woman fell asleep, Hermione stepped up to her and sank her fangs into her throat. A small jerk with her jaw and the spine was broken. An hour later, the body was sliced up, the juiciest parts in Hermiones stomach and the rest spread over the bed. These were the only times when her brain became clear. The following clarity always stood in concurrence with the insanity of her inner fiend.

"I'm a monster." she whispered to herself.

"I am a God!" she shouted back at her own comment.

"No! No! Nononono! I... I need to stop...this. I..."

"Silence! I need more of it!"

"Stop! No, I can't. Oh god..."

"No god, only me." she whispered triumphantly.

"Someone..." she begged, her voice becoming even fainter as she started sobbing silently over the blood stained sheets. "...help me!"

***Countess***

2. August 1996

"Have we ever had anything to do while patrolling the swamps? I mean... in over five-hundred years?"

"The last who came here were the Nazis. Didn't come here all that often after the first time."

"And what would've happened if they'd found the ruins?"

"Would've probably searched them, find nothing, leave again."

"So... why are we patrolling the swamps again?"

"Shut it, recruit. We got orders."

Edda sighed in boredom at the dismissive tone of her superior. There never happened anything interesting in the swamps of the danube delta. There were birds catching frogs, frogs catching flies and flies hovering over her dead skin, hoping beyond hope that she would begin to rot. No luck for the flies, since being a spirit just masterfully tricked her surroundings about the existence of her body. She was a soul, floating around in a world where she didn't quite belong, faking a corporeal existence.

How far the Varangian Guard has fallen. Edda kind of regretted joining them after her death. It had sounded so amazing, being part of the legendary Guard. Personal protectors of the byzantine Emperor, then the elite troops of Vlad the Impaler himself and after that a highly sought after mercenary troop. That was, however, when they were still alive and well. Now they were a band of undead, waiting for the day nobody really thought would ever come. There just wasn't a wallet that would buy their loyalty. Whoever had the money preferred living mercenaries, not to mention that the non-magicals had no way to even see them without a lot of effort from their side. So Edda was stuck watching the perimeter around the last stronghold of the Varangian Guard and report if any mortal breaches the zone.

Nothing happened then, really. Some biologists would sometimes come and look for some birds or things Edda had no interest in. Command would send out a patrol to watch them, maybe give them the creeps so that they would make a run for it. Her superior had told her that Romania was about to join some Union of european nations. Basically he said that there would never again be soldiers walking through the swamps and that she would live out many decades before she gets to fight.

"I'm going to check the perimeter." she stated and let herself drop from their elevated position in one of the higher trees of the swamp. The drop would've broken a mortals bones, but she had long lost the dependency on such things as corporeal limbs. Being a Keres – a vengeful spirit – had its advantages.

Edda didn't even know why she wanted to walk around the ever same swamps. Maybe she had enough of the incredibly boring spectre that was her superior. Maybe she just wanted to go over her wishes and dreams for, well, eternity. What did one do with eternity? Some swore blind alliance to the Varangian Guard. Others ended up in a weird state of coma, forever dreaming until one day they would burn up with the world. She always thought that, being a Keres, she had purpose. She had hated the SS-Officer that had killed her with a garotte with such pure rage that even death had trembled to take her. The Nazis were gone, the SS-Officers had gone with them. They were dead, beyond the veil and she was left, an avenging spirit without a target for her vengeance. Sure, she had driven some fascists into madness by haunting their dreams and lives, but somehow it wasn't the same. Compared to the cold and calculated viciousness of the germans, those wannabes were little more than bullies. In the end, incredibly unsatisfying and not even close to being enough to end her rage.

A rage that has gone cold, she had to admit. She looked into the flat surface of the pond next to her and wondered where the brutal spirit, with chains, robes and wild, long hair flying all around her was gone. The looks of a Keres were greatly determined by her rage and the injustice of her death. Just like those, she went from looking like a powerful lich, to looking like a normal, undead soldier. Her hair was still long, but it had stopped floating around her. Instead it hung down her gaunt face until it reached the lower back. Her eyes weren't red anymore, but black like a endless void. She had definitely taken her beauty from her living days with her, but it was somewhat warped by the skinny build of her undying body. She was clad in linen rags and some metal plating and holding a spirits lance. Still, she would scare the life out of people, but she was far from what she had once been.

Sighing heavily she continued her walk through the endless swamp of northern Romania. At least it was familiar, she thought. Being killed in 1942, the world had changed for her in ways she couldn't even comprehend. She didn't dare to even think how her comrades would see it since some of them had died before Guttenberg had built his bookpress. Hell, some of them remembered what a scandal it was when Julius Caesar had been murdered.

Sometimes they were allowed to go to the nearby cities, just to see something else for a while. The last time she was there, people had talked to no one on the streets, using weird devices that vaguely reminded her of telephones. The non-magical world had changed in ways that she was unable to understand. She preferred to walk the streets of the magical enclaves, even though the residents would be scared of her. She didn't mind, as long as something happened.

However, she felt herself drift away from this world. Sometimes she would stare at a wall for days until she realized what she did. Her superior had told her that this was how these spirit comas began. The periods of her being completely out would become longer until she would one day be stuck in her dreamworld. The cure, according to her commander, was to stay busy. But then again – Vengeful Spirit without anyone to avenge but herself and no culprits to haunt. How exactly was she supposed to stay busy?

She looked up to the moon and, once again, admired its beauty and the amazing background the stars provided. She always wondered if that was were she'd go when she died. After all, she would eventually see the end of the world. Mortals and all things living would be long gone, but she would still roam the earth. She wondered if, when the planet would finally end to exist, she would just drift into the vast space above them, forever flying through an infinite void.

Or maybe, she thought, that was overthinking it. Maybe she would just end like the fly in the mouth of the toad she just passed. There was still a chance that she would just vanish one day. With no purpose and her heart becoming colder and colder, maybe she would get another chance of stepping over the threshold and just... die.

Edda walked slowly through the swamp while her head played through the same scenarios again. She had signed a one-hundred year contract with the Guard. If she hadn't vanished by then, maybe she could roam the earth for a bit. Being a spirit without cause, she was free to move wherever she wanted.

She would, however, prefer to stay with the Guard and just get something to do. She had always felt drawn to the military. Even as a living girl she had wanted to join the army. When they had refused to take girls, she ended up in a partisan group. She didn't care one bit for the well-being of the country. She had been in it for the rush, the adrenaline. Nothing had made her more happy than to run from the Nazis after a successful assassination or recon-mission. Too bad that SS-Officers had been really good at killing the people they deemed unwanted.

She frowned when she realized that she thought in circles, once again. Even with herself she had nothing more to discuss and she was far from completing her first century as a undead creature. Eternity would be absolutely unbearable.

She just hummed a sad tune for the rest of her round. She made a stop at one of the bigger ponds and watched the fish floating through the water lazily. She checked on the sparrow hatchlings she had just found recently and found out that they already left the nest – or were eaten. More birds that killed frogs, more frogs that killed flies and more flies that waited for her to rot with no chance of ever finding any edible flesh to feast on.

She was nearly back at the tree they used for an outlook, when something... called for her. She couldn't describe it any better. Something called out for her. It was like a small voice in her head, asking for her assistance.

"Someone... help me."

Edda startled as if the world was tearing away under her. She turned around in a flash, holding out her spear. To her left, only grass, to her right, only water. Behind her and in front of her an empty path of dirt with no one on it but herself.

"Who is there? Show yourself!" she commanded into the darkness. It took her a while to realize that she was feeling afraid. The swamp was a silent as ever, with the normal background orchestra of flies and frogs. The voice had come from somewhere, but she was unable to determine where. Nobody was on the path and nobody was around her.

"Please, help me."

Edda just ran as fast as she could to the outlook. The tree was just five-hundred meters away from her position and she sprinted the distance in horror. When she finally reached the tree a dry and humorless laugh came out of her when she realized that a Keres just ran from a voice in horror.

"I take it you heard it too?" came the raspy voice of her superior.

"If you mean the voice from nowhere asking for my help, then yes." she answered quietly. "What the hell was that?"

The old ghost didn't answer, but his gaze was more alive than she had ever seen it. His eyes, normally covered with a milky layer, were now as black as hers and shining with cautious determination.

"You know something! Tell me whats happening!" she demanded.

"I don't know, but..."

"But what?!"

"It feels like... It feels as if... he's back."

Edda just looked at the old ghost in confusion and shrugged her shoulders. "Who's back? What...?"

But he just held up a hand and gestured her to follow him. "Command will know more." was all he said before his form swirled around and he apparated back to the stronghold. Edda immediately followed.

Back at headquarters, Edda was stunned at how many ghosts, spirits, specters and banshees had assembled in the yard of the ruined stronghold the Varangian Guard used as base. She remembered that she had never seen the complete Guard all at once. Fifty or so was the most she had ever seen standing in the yard. Now there were hundreds, all staring in tense expectation towards the balcony of the still intact part of the fortress.

Edda had never felt this much tension in the stronghold. Especially the older ghosts, some she just knew as barely conscious, felt as if new life fueled them. Just like her superior, their eyes were a pure black, their incorporeal bodies glowed with power and their gazes were focused as if they readied themselves for battle.

The oldest of the spectres, Tyr son of Völundr and Commander of the Varangian Guard, came onto the balcony. There had always been purpose in his eyes, otherwise he would've gone mad a long time ago. However, she had never seen him with such promise in his eyes. Commander Tyr's eyes nearly glowed in anticipation and through his long, braided beard one could see a faint smile on his hard edged and scarred face. He stepped up to the railing of the balcony and held out his arms with his axe in the right hand and his left hand opened in a welcoming gesture. "Brothers! Sisters! Tonight, the wait is over!" he shouted through the yard. "You have all heard the voice, calling for us. We know this call, my older brothers! It had once been the call we heard whenever the Impaler needed us on the battlefield. Now we will march once more to join our General! To the land of the Romans farthest north, where the Saxons built their Empire. Brothers! We march for England!"

From hundreds of undead mouths, shouts of joy filled the nightly air. Edda shouted just as loud as anybody else. Finally, something happened. She didn't understand what exactly, but at least something.

The Varangian Guard wasted no time. The old spirits held the bit of scripture in their hand that the Guard had been able to safe from mortal eyes and hands. The individual soldier had nothing of value that he didn't carry on him. There was no fatigue to keep in mind, nor was there anything holding them back. There was just this voice in their heads, calling out for them, begging them for help in a way only a leader could. So they marched for they had now something they hadn't got for hundreds of years. The Varangian Guard had finally found purpose.

***Countess***

25. August 1996

Remus Lupin had never been to Germany before and he had never thought that he would find himself there in his life. Bremen had nothing to offer him besides lousy weather and people he couldn't understand. His German was basically non-existing and he was just glad that the Germans could all at least give directions in English. He hoped that the ones he was about to meet could do more than that, otherwise the coming confrontation would be a useless exercise.

Germany's magical society was in many ways different than the society of England. For one, wizards and witches did not mingle with magical creatures. Wizards and Witches lived in Berlin, Cologne or Munich. Vampires lived in Leipzig, Nürnberg and Stuttgart. Goblins lived in Frankfurt. Centaurs in the huge forests of the Schwarzwald. Veela colonies could be found around secluded villages in the alps bordering Austria. Bremen, Hamburg and Hannover was called the 'Fullmoon Triangle' for a reason. Three powerful werewolf packs had hidden and united there, or better, had focused their forces there when Grindelwald had sought to destroy them.

Remus Lupin was about to meet the infamous inner circle of the 'Graunebel Rudel' or Greyfog Pack that was currently in charge of the Triangle. Fanatics and followers of old werewolf traditions, hidden away in the catacombs and forgotten passageways of Bremen, or at least that was what the english werewolves knew about them. Lately they also got the reputation of aggressors. Many of their followers were found searching for something in the big cities of Britain, disregarding all claims of territory. Being the known trustworthy pacifist without affiliation he was, Remus got chosen to talk to them on behalf of the british packs. He wouldn't be missed if they ripped him apart the moment he entered and he would have the most chance to get them to actually talk. Who knew what someone like Fenrir Greyback would say to them?

Remus had accepted the mission for his own benefit. The order of the Phoenix was equally worried about the intrusion of the Graunebels, even though their worries had other reasons than trespassing territorial borders. They knew something the other packs and the vampire Clans didn't. Why would they risk starting a war between packs? The possible answer made Lupins stomach turn.

He walked through a tiny alley, with meticulously cared for timber-framed, renaissance houses. He was still walking among Muggles until he turned into an Alley the non-magical folk couldn't see. For them it was a solid brick wall, for Lupin and other magicals it was a archway made of stone, leading into a slightly bigger alley with shops, stores and a neat cafè. The architecture of the houses was still the same, with the small differences that magic made signs and doors brought with them.

"A testimony for werewolf culture, wouldn't you say, Remus Lupin?" a voice behind his back asked with a raspy tone baring the typical slight growl of werewolves who didn't hide their nature. His german heritage was evident in his slight accent, but other than that his English sounded perfect. Remus turned around to see a bulky man with an impressive, full beard and a bald head. He wore a robe with leather patches at the joints – a workers clothes. His boots were made of fine looking black leather just like his old-fashioned gauntlets.

"It is, truly. A little hard to find for foreigners, though." Remus answered while offering the stranger his hand.

"Glad to hear its location is still uneasy to make out." the big man said and accepted Lupin's friendly gesture. His handshake was firm and strong, but not uncomfortably so. "My name is Wolfgang Steinhauer. I am the representative of the Graunebel Council. Follow me."

Steinhauer stepped past Lupin and made his way through the crowd. Remus followed him quickly. It didn't go past him how eager the other people in the alley were to let the man pass. Some even nodded submissively or, Lupin noted with surprise, bowed before him.

"You seem to be known around here, Mr. Steinhauer." Lupin said, making sure that his tone made clear that this was a question.

"I am an alpha. Lower wolves respect me, the lowest bow before me. It worries me that you have forgotten the old ways. How can we talk as equals if you're not even aware of your standing?"

"I have no standing." Remus replied impatiently. Bloody conservatives!

"Everybody has a standing, brit. You may have forgotten, but here it still stands true." Steinhauer said in his growling voice that demanded respect with every word. He turned into a even smaller alley and then down a flight of stairs that lead into catacombs. His voice echoed through the delicate and gloomy room, full with rich decorated pillars and ceilings depicting battles between werewolves and everything else that lived.

"We have heard of you, of course. Pacifist, without affiliation and dependent on his wizards." Suddenly Steinhauer turned around and glared at him with feral eyes. "I want you to remember one thing. You are an omega in our eyes. You are weak and nothing more than a lap dog cowering before his wizard masters. We respect your standing as diplomat, but always be aware that beside that you're nothing more than a stray that needs to be put down for his own good."

Leaving Lupin staring at him, he once again turned and continued to move down the catacombs. Remus forced himself out of his stupor. 'This is not going the way I had planned' he thought and considered turning and running. Of course, it stopped at the consideration. Too many people needed him here. Too many waited for his report. The Order had nothing in terms of intelligence beside the made up stories from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the few stray rumors he gathered from the british packs. Those waited for him to prevent nothing short of a werewolf war.

Steinhauer led him through several doors and hallways until they reached a richly decorated wooden door with copper fittings that resembled wolf heads.

"This is where I leave you, Remus Lupin. Behind that door the Council awaits. Farewell." Steinhauer said and then left through the darkness of the catacombs that was barely broken by the few lamps hanging on the side of the hallways.

Remus took a deep breath and prepared himself one last time before he pushed the door open. Behind it he found himself entering a hall of sorts from a side-entry. It was grand, with gold and marble pillars holding up a dome that was decorated with carvings and depictions of wolves and werewolves hunting in fantastical woods. On the white marble floor stood a circular table that looked like a stencil cut out from the scenery with its black ebony wood that stood in such stark contrast with the rest of the room.

"Sit down here, Herr Lupin." came from his left. A gaunt looking man with white hair and a neatly trimmed beard gestured towards a wooden chair made from some other wood than ebony. Other than the regal looking thrones around the table, the chair had no cushions and no decorations. It also stood far from every one of the thrones and sitting down felt like facing a jury to Remus.

"Chieftess Ute Maria Elisabeth Königsberg, the leader of the united packs of the Hanse, and the Counselors will arrive shortly, Herr Lupin. You shall address the Chieftess as 'Her Excellency' or 'Kurfürstin Königsberg'. You shall address the Counselors as such or by their respective titles. A word of warning before I depart. Calling the Chieftess or her Counselors anything else is considered not only rude, but a crime against the laws of the pack." With that the gaunt man left the round hall through a small door on the side.

Lupin sighed heavily as he contemplated what a mess he had driven himself into. Now he felt like the bloody Queen was about to strut into the hall, not some werewolf Clanleader. He had heard that the german wolves still carried noble titles, but he had also thought that they didn't put a lot of meaning onto them. Now it seemed like they were all about their ranks and standings and whatever hierarchy these conservatives still had in place.

A quick look on his watch after he had studied the room forever showed him that they left him waiting for an hour already. Just as he wanted to look if someone was even around the hall, the creaking of the grand front gates of the hall kept him in his uncomfortable chair. Through the gate he could see an amazing hall that was just as impressive as the round one he sat in right now.

Several people came in. The men among them all had impressive beards, neatly trimmed and bald, polished heads. They were clad in expensive looking robes of acromantula silk and their boots and gauntlets looked like dragon hide. The females among them had long, braided hair that was either naturally or colored blonde. Their robes were equally expensive, and their shoes and gauntlets made from luxurious materials. Additionally they wore huge pieces of jewelery, with, to Lupins surprise, naturally grinded and round stones from the river in them. After everyone entered a last figure stepped through the archway of the gates.

The gaunt man from before took position, slammed a golden staff on the floor and spoke proudly "Ich präsentiere dem ehrenwerten Rat, Häuptling Ute Maria Elisabeth von Königsberg, Anführerin der vereinten Rudel der Hanse Kurfürstin des heilig römischen Reiches, Markgräfin von Bremen und Hohepriesterin des Fenris. Erheben sie sich!" (1)

The woman was without a doubt the Chieftess. Lupin thought that this woman could probably walk around naked and still everybody would bow in respect. Her posture was that of a leader. Her shoulders were high up, her gaze like iron and she wore a huge scar on her face with the pride of a experienced fighter. As if that wasn't enough, her clothes demanded even more respect from whoever laid eyes upon her. Her robes were made of actual gold, made into wire to be formed into clothing. Under the layer of gold she wore acromantula silk and instead of the dragon hide gauntlets and boots, she wore delicate shoes covered in gold and a pair of gloves made from the same silk as the robes under the gold. A cape of black silk caressed her back and outlined her face nicely. To top it all off, she wore double the amount of jewelery and a small diadem with an impressive diamond in it.

The image before him alone made him stand up and bow slightly before the assembled Council. There were twenty people in total who nearly reeked of wealth and power. Next to them, Lupin seemed like something the sewers spit out, even if he was clad in the expensive robes he had lend from Kingsley.

The Chieftess sat down exactly opposite from Lupin in the biggest and most richly decorated throne there was in the room. Servants that came after her in the room brought crystal cups and filled them with water. She took a sip of the clear liquid and then gestured a servant. The young man walked towards Lupin and pointed him towards the chair to sit down. Lupin did as told and then waited for the Chieftess to speak first. He was sweating and his throat was awfully dry. The crystal cup before him taunted him with the water in it, but Lupin was scared to move and so he left the cup were it was.

His discomfort seemed to amuse the Chieftess, or at least he hoped it did. The corners of her mouth were just a bit higher up so that the faint impression of a smile could be seen. The Chieftess remained silent and instead, one of the counselors left of Lupin addressed him first.

"Remus Lupin. It was brought to our attention that you are here on a diplomatic mission for the british packs."

"That is correct, Counselor I was sent here to speak to this council about the territorial breaches in our lands." Lupin answered politely. His words raised a few eyebrows and some of the council shook their head in amusement. "The packs of London, Brighton and Manchester have reported several times that they have seen Graunebel wolves in their cities, disrupting the agreements the packs of Europe have with each other. The leader of the british packs ask for an explanation."

"What you're saying is they demand it, don't they, Omega?" one of the female werewolves to Lupins right asked with not a little repulsion in her words as she addressed him with his standing in their society. She was especially feral looking with golden eyes, judging his robes, face and posture. He felt like confronting Greyback all over again. The dangerous, nearly feral werewolves all had the same aura around them. One of unpredictability and mortal danger.

Lupin carved his courage together, he was a Gryffindor after all, and answered the woman as politely as possible. "We are merely wondering why your people risk the consequences of overstepping territorial borders, Counselor."

"The consequences?" the woman laughed. "Are you going to send your masters against us? We have dealt with wizards, pet. The Hanse packs suffer no cowards! Tell your leaders..."

The woman immediately went silent when the Chieftess raised her hand in a gesture that was barely more than a jerk of the hand. On her it still looked like a gesture of power, given that her body was perfectly still the entire time.

"Ich bitte um Verzeihung, Majestät." (2) the counselor said and bowed deep before the Chieftess.

"Übe dich in Geduld, Kind." (3) One of the older looking werewolves said with a kind tone in his voice. Then he looked towards Lupin and his voice shifted to a neutral, calculating one. "We have reasons to go to Britain, Mr. Lupin. None of those reasons involve provocation. So rest assured that the Graunebel wolves will not disturb your powerplay."

Lupin looked back at the older man in confusion. "What powerplay? The packs of Britain have undisputed leaders."

The answer came in a somewhat sad shake of the old mans head and several snickering counselors. Lupin felt greatly left out of the joke and forgot all about his tone. "I have come here to prevent a war, Counselors , your Excellency." he said leaving no doubt that he gave no value to the titles. "I ask for information to appease the british packs and you leave me with nothing. If I come back with this I cannot say what the reaction will be."

His words got some of the counselors to stand up and growl at him, or call him names Lupin had never heard before. Especially the woman that spoke to him before looked ready to kill and her guttural growl could be easily heard through the others.

"Leave us."

The entire room went completely silent in an instant. All heads turned towards the Chieftess who said nothing more to the counselors.

"Aber, eure Majestät!"(4) the feral looking woman began but was immediately silenced by just another small move of the Chieftess' hand.

The gates of the hall opened and the counselors left the room ever so reluctant. Some tried to threaten Lupin with their gaze, others looked rather gobsmacked at their Chieftess orders. It took no more than a minute before Lupin sat alone in front of the Chieftess. No servants were present and the counselors were kept from listening in by the huge gates closing.

"War, Mr. Lupin?" the Chieftess asked.

"That is what I fear, your Excellency." he answreed.

"Do I have to expect your people to engage in military actions?"

"The leaders don't..." he started.

"There are no leaders in Britain, Mr. Lupin." she interrupted and Remus fell silent immediately. Something in her voice commanded obedience and Remus couldn't help but obey. "There is no one in Britain who leads the werewolves. Imagine my surprise when I got the message that the packleaders of Britain send an diplomat. It left me wondering who they'll send. Someone who cowers before the Lord Voldemort, or someone who gets his ears petted by Dumbledore?"

Remus had to force himself to look her in the eyes. Her clear dark-blue pierced his own and he couldn't stand to hold her gaze for long time periods. "I was sent because the vote of the London council decided on me. We..."

"Who is that 'London council'?" she interrupted once again.

"Lucian Trent, Orelia O'Harra, Stephan Bjergsson and Tory Gilligan, your Excellency."

"So, we have two werewolves who get their orders from the dark wizard Voldemort, one who lives with a witch as a wive and one who deems Dumbledore a good choice as leader." Slowly she stood up, rearranged her robes and then directed her gaze once more at Lupin who felt himself cower for a second. She continued while slowly circling the table. "Mr. Lupin, how much have you seen of Bremen today?"

"Not much, I've just seen the alley that lead to this place."

"A shame." she said and her voice gave Lupin shivers down his spine. What was it with that woman that he felt the need to kneel before her, he wondered.

"Mr. Lupin, I asked myself something for a long time now and maybe you can answer me?"

"What do you wonder about, your Excellency?"

"Are you happy?" she asked and somewhere in her tone, motherly worry mixed into her coldness.

"Pardon, but I fail to understand what you mean."

"I mean, are you happy with how you live in Britain? The cruel wizards laws against our kind, the stigma that comes with being a werewolf, the embarrassment you have to endure when asking for wolfsbane in your hospital?"

Lupin wanted to say that he was happy, that he enjoyed living in Britain, but the words got stuck in his throat. He couldn't lie to her. Of course he despised the laws against him and the way people reacted to him when they found out. But he wasn't here to whine about his fate and much less to get stuck in her questions about happiness.

"I'm reasonably satisfied with my life." he answered lamely.

"Reasonably satisfied?" she laughed. "Let me say that I honestly doubt that, Mr. Lupin. In fact, I dare say that you despise the wizards laws just as much as I do. Isn't this why so many of the british werewolves flock to this Lord Voldemort? Because he promises them freedom to do as they wish? As much of an disgrace it is that a wizard has even the chance to promise this to a wolf."

"Your Excellency, this isn't why..."

"No, it isn't why you came here." she finished for him. "But it certainly is why I have absolutely no worries of a war. There is no one in Britain who cares about wolf territories and could rally a hand full of werwolves without having to fight for the leader position. There are, of course, a few alphas within your ranks who can demand respect and loyalty. But make no mistake, there is not a single pack in Britain with a leader. Without leaders there are no forces that could defy the Hanse packs. What is a claim worth if there is no one standing behind it? You threaten with war, Lupin, while your brothers and sisters fight among themselves? Tell them this. I don't acknowledge the territory of any so called pack in Britain and I do not care if it messes with their false claim to power. I don't respect them more than I would respect any omega among my own ranks. Werewolves who flock to wizards for help are not worth considering."

Lupin sat there, gobsmacked and devouring what he had just heard. The Chieftess had no venom or arrogance in her voice. She merely stated that she didn't consider british werewolves worth a damn, let alone a threat. It struck deep, her words, for they were nothing but the truth, now that he considered it. Werewolves in the underground of London changed allegiance like socks. One day they would follow Fenrir Greyback on a raid, just to come to Bjergsson to get their monthly wolfsbane from the next day.

Lupin bowed his head down and sighed loudly. He closed his eyes and just sat there while he searched for words.

Chieftess Königsberg stepped behind him and carefully placed her hands on his shoulders. Lupin startled, but remained sitting. Her touch was oddly comforting and sitting so close beside her made his stomach flip. He remembered feeling the same when he first met Dumbledore, with the difference that this woman was a werewolf – his kind.

"Tell me, Remus Lupin. Would you like to be happy?"

Her voice was so calm and warm, her touch so comforting that Remus sunk even deeper into himself. What did she really ask? He didn't know, but he nodded nevertheless. It was the truth.

"I can give that to you, Remus. I can make you happy. A job, a home, a supply of wolfsbane, no one who judges you for being a son of the moon - a normal life." she said while her hands moved around his shoulders, into his hair and stopping at his cheeks where they caressed him almost lovingly.

"What..." he started, nealy unable to speak. The sensation of her hands on his skin was almost unbearable.

"Have you heard the call?"

"The call, your Excellency?"

The Chieftess laughed silently, making her amusement a thing of delicate beauty. Then she sighed "Your life with the wizards has truly warped your senses. What I mean is the call of her. Of the great leader, the heir to the Impaler, the bloodmoon. The one who rides the world devourer. She calls for us, and we search for her. She is on the island."

The Chieftess quickly moved around the chair and looked Lupin straight in the eyes. Her dark-blue irises shone in excitement and he couldn't look away, no matter how hard he tried. She cupped his cheeks and he felt his heart skip a beat from her touch. When she spoke her lips moved so controlled, so delicately and beautiful that Lupin struggled to pay attention to her words.

"The Countess. The vampire who first feasted on his own and ascended in a trail of blood during the new moon. She needs us, Remus. You know her! Find her! Help her! She needs our strength. She needs you!" The Chieftess' voice became so faint, but everything she said hammered into his mind as if written into him. She was so beautiful, so powerful and benevolent. Remus Lupin fell from his chair, onto his knees and bowed before her, so deep that his forehead touched the marble. He didn't know why, but all thoughts of treason were gone. There was only one to obey. Kurfürstin Königsberg and no one else.

"I will find her, your Excellency. I will find her and protect her. Is there something... anything else I can do for you?"

She knelled beside him, and softly touched the back of his head. What a sensation. "Keep me up to date with an owl, my pup. We need to help her ascend to her full potential. If there is anyone who stands between her and her ascension, inform me of it. Do you understand?"

"Absolutely, your Excellency. I shall do as commanded."

***Countess***

(1)

I present to the esteemed Council, Chieftess Ute Maria Elisabeth von Königsberg, Leader of the united packs of the Hanse, Kurfürstin of the holy roman empire, Markgräfin of Bremen and High Priestess of Fenrir. Rise!

(2)

I beg your forgiveness, your majesty.

(3)

Exercise patience, child.

(4)

But, your majesty!

Kürfürstin: Something like an Archduchess

Markgräfin: Also something like a Duchess. For details, google it.

So, there it is. After we see old allies gone, we see the first new allies rising, ready to mix up magical europe.

Next chapter will be a "Harry goes to Hogwarts"... at least for a bit.