There is an argument as to the conclusion if wizarding laws and society drive those infected witches and wizards together into groups or if there is some inclination from their animal counterparts to form packs. Regardless of what factor may drive them together, as a whole, the groupings tend to conform to observations of their animal counterparts.
Lupine Menace p82
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Three weeks before the first full moon
Harry sat with Ron at his dining room table in Grimmauld finally telling him everything that had happened almost a week earlier. Sitting with Ron though drinking a pint, he felt pretty normal. Apparently, Ron did not aggravate his wolf at all. Thank fucking Merlin. He had hoped to have some strategy of dealing with his wolf before interacting with too many people, but it seemed like Hermione in particular was a trigger for him. Which was really bad fucking luck considering she was also the one he trusted the most to help him with his furry little problem.
"Mate, no offense but that sounds like a porno- remember that shop on Knockturn–"
Harry pounded his fist on his dining room table and pointed at Ron . "Yes! That's why you're my best mate! I tried to tell Hermione–"
Ron burst out laughing, turning alarmingly red as he sputtered. "You tried to tell that to Hermione? You dumb git! You were just trying to make her mad more like."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry grumbled drinking a bit of his pint.
"You know exactly what I mean, I don't know how both of you can be such fucking knobs. Well, you, I guess I understand, but Hermione is usually smarter."
"Don't call Hermione a knob!" Harry's tone was sharper than he intended, he could practically feel invisible fur ruffling at the harmless insult. Hadn't he just been thinking his wolf was chill with Ron? Apparently not when it thought Hermione was being insulted, good to know.
Ron rolled his eyes, not at all put off by his tone, leaning back in his chair. "I still can't believe you didn't ask her out after the Todd incident."
Harry was immediately distracted as the image of that wankbangle Hermione had briefly dated last year popped into his mind. Ugh. Todd. Who had a name like Todd anyway? It sounded like the name for a rubber dick. Heh. "Todd sounds like a name for a rubber dick."
"Why are you thinking of rubber dicks, mate?" Ron asked his serious tone betrayed by the glint in his eye.
"Todd," Harry said the name again in a disgusted voice, ignoring Ron's question as he took another drink. "Who the fuck has a name like Todd?"
"Pretty sure one of the alternates for the Chudley Cannons is Todd Burton."
"Exactly! Todds are – Todds are alternates! Prick accountants. Breathing pork pies. Rubber dicks.-"
Ron tuned out as Harry continued his rant on the last wizard Hermione had dated, drinking his pint. Honestly, he didn't see the problem with dating your best mate. He had dated Hermione for a while after the war, the relationship between the two of them hadn't worked out and so they had amicably broken it off. He couldn't convince his two best friends, though, that breaking up didn't have to be some dramatic shite where everything burned down.
They were both convinced that they would date and then if something happened it would tarnish their friendship. This was just dumb in Ron's opinion, half of Hogwarts had dated the other half. The lack of a wide dating pool made one's standards flexible when it came to that sort of thing. They were all approaching their thirties now and everyone was still friends – well except for some Slytherins obviously. Although that was changing slowly as some wrongs were forgiven.
If they hadn't been evil fucks Ron would have taken a second glance or two at some of the Slytherin girls but he had been occupied with his bushy-haired best mate. In school Slytherin girls didn't really have a spectrum of looks like other houses, they were either really really pretty or really fucking ugly. Of course, Ron hadn't dated any of them - there's always the worry they might be closet blood purists.
So Harry and Hermione did this weird thing where they dated other people and paid more attention to each other than their dates. Teen romance drama was supposed to be nearly a decade behind them, but you wouldn't know that with the way those two behaved with their love lives. Currently, though both had been single nearly two years and Ron had been hopeful that was the signal they were finally going to get together.
He had a betting pool going with their whole Hogwarts gang and his brothers, on how long it would take the two to get their shite together. Luna Lovegood with her bizarre little nuggets of wisdom had given him an inside scoop that she thought this year was going to be the year it finally happened. If so he was in for a tidy amount of coin, as the pot had gotten progressively larger as time passed.
"Well?" Harry demanded snapping him back to the conversation.
Ron hastily took a drink of his pint to give him a second to think. "Oh yeah, I agree."
Harry grunted, watching Ron carefully for a second before nodding and going back to his drink. He had avoided mentioning the bond he felt with Ron's wife, as he didn't want Ron to try to kick his arse. If he had a wife -Hermione- and Ron blathered about a bond with her he'd punch him too just on principle.
Mine.
Damn straight. "I just would need your help for a few weeks at most, some errands and the like – like back when we were partners at MLE."
Ron looked a little confused at first and then nodded. "Yeah mate, whatever I got you."
"It won't hurt your own work at the shop?"
Ron shrugged. "I'm the owner too, we'll just schedule a bit more on our part-timers."
"Rich git." Harry scoffed and Ron grinned.
"Look who's talking mate."
"I don't have underlings doing my work- oh wait I do - you." Harry laughed when Ron scowled.
"Yeah, yeah shut up. So what am I doing exactly?"
"You weren't listening at all to me, were you?"
"Yeah–no."
Harry muttered under his breath. "I need to track down the name from the vision or dream – whatever. There may be clues there on why my wolf is so different."
"Oh, I remember Elaine."
"Elara."
'Close enough. Besides isn't that answer obvious?"
"What?"
Ron gestured to him with a half-drunk beer. "Why your wolf is different, it's obvious."
"Tell me then."
"I don't know if you know this - but you're Harry fucking Potter."
Harry laughed and took another drink. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing normal happens to you mate. Other people become werewolves - you - you become the porno!"
"Fucking wanker, shut the fuck up!"
"No! No really!" Ron was turning red as he tried to stop himself from laughing. "If you got a wart on your face it wouldn't be a regular wart, it would be – it would be some magical fucking wart that spoke in Merlin's voice," Harry I am your wartfather."
"Should've never shown you Star Wars." Harry rolled his eyes as Ron kept making strange choking laughs. "Anyway–stop laughing– ANYWAY— I need you to do some interviews, mostly at Hogwarts actually."
Harry waited patiently for Ron to calm down, which he did after a few minutes, wiping tears from his eyes. Finally, after clearing his throat he responded. "Hogwarts?"
"Yeah I got back a research request from MLE– there aren't that many Elaras about apparently."
"Surprised MLE is doing your research requests actually."
"I think it has the beneficial side perk of getting me to fuck off."
"That explains it. You remember how they treated Sasha."
Harry nodded as Ron referenced a former bitten coworker who had also been forced to quit. "According to the report there are only four instances in wizarding Britain of the name, and three are in the same family."
"Going to be that one then." Ron concurred.
"Yeah, exactly my thinking. The problem is all of them are dead. The family name is Marchetti, nothing that stands out, fairly normal wizarding line, not death eaters but didn't participate heavily in the war at all, mainly hunkered down throughout it. The last person with the name was Elara Louise Marchetti born in 1888 and died in 2003."
"So why am I going to Hogwarts then.."
"Let me finish. She had a daughter Lissette Marchetti born in 1990, not a lot of information on her but she graduated from Hogwarts two years ago and disappeared pretty much. Need to track her down and ask her about her mum."
"I'll talk to McGonagall about her, see who was her friend and what not."
"Yeah mate, I appreciate it." Harry sat back with a sigh, tipping his beer back. He was going to go stir-crazy in this house.
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Hermione❤: why isnt your phone on?
Harry: it makes me want to bark
Hermione❤: are you being serious or joking
Harry: both?
Hermione❤: i dont think werewolves bark
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Hermione looked down at her phone with a sigh, rubbing at her forehead. Considering it had taken her literally years of nagging for Ron and Harry to finally give in and get a cell phone she supposed she had only herself to blame for this annoyance.
Harry almost always had his phone on do not disturb and Ron barely remembered to charge his phone, but then neither had the same kind of ties to the muggle world as she did. Her parents were in their late sixties, and Hermione always made it a point to have her cell charged and near her just in case they called for her.
At least he wasn't trying to get her to owl him, which she was sure had crossed his stubborn mind. The way he behaved with his mobile you would think he hadn't been raised the first thirteen years of his life as a muggle.
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Hermione❤: Ive been exploring some alternate plans to try to get your wolf under control
Harry: like?
Hermione❤:I dont want to disclose too much im not sure how much influence it may have on your thinking
Harry: right
Hermione❤:harry dont get grouchy
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Harry's fist tightened on his stupid mobile, and he heard an ominous crack that made him loosen his grip hastily. He'd had to replace the fragile little fucker so many times his insurance on it had already told him to fuck off so now he had to pay full price every time he had to replace his muggle phone.
Mobile phones were strangely resistant to repair spells. He had gotten a mobile a few years after Hogwarts, because it had been a pain in the arse to use the owl service in Diagon Alley every time he wanted to send a missive, and he refused to replace Hedwig. Many older witches and wizards still refused to use most muggle technology although those of Harry's generation and younger typically had acquired the skills to use all the same gadgets as their muggle counterparts.
As he couldn't predict his reactions to people - although it seemed the most severe with Hermione, he had mostly been conducting business by having missives owled to him, through his mobile or the internet. It was fucking hard to investigate without being actually able to physically investigate, instead, he was basically compiling reports and leads that he was trusting Hermione or Ron to follow up on.
And he hadn't been in Hermione's presence since the first disastrous trial when he'd injured her and licked her blood up like a fucking psychopath.
Wolf.
He groaned. Staying cooped up in the house and only seeing Ron occasionally was driving him a bit stir-crazy. He wanted to be out hunting his answers. He wanted to be able to see, touch, and be in the presence of Hermione again without feeling the intense need to bite her and jump her bones.
Hunt.
Mate.
The beast inside him perked up at the idea of hunting and his thoughts of Hermione. The wolf wasn't exactly a stellar conversationalist, but he managed to communicate his wants to Harry just fine.
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Hermione❤: there's not alot of time until the full moon and I wanted things straightened out by then
Harry: fine
Harry: when
Hermione❤ tomorrow
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Harry tossed the phone onto the desk. Getting up and giving in to his urge to pace his office. When he had first gotten bitten it had been easy for him to distinguish his own urges as opposed to wolf urges but as the days passed the two had merged more and more.
The wolf crystalized things that the human in him put in too many layers. The grey was fading for him and he wasn't sure that was altogether a bad thing. He paused at the picture of him and Hermione that was on his desk, it was from his twenty-fifth birthday, and he lifted her up and spun her around as she laughed looking up at him.
Mine.
The word ricocheted through him, banging against his excuses. Why had he wanted so long to make a move on her? Why had he thought it would harm their friendship? Hadn't she tortured him repeatedly by dragging him to the movies for her trash romantic comedies of friends to lovers?
He focused on the curve of her lips, her tastefully applied lipstick darkening them temptingly. He may not have been her first lover, but he would be her last. Yes, he thought to the wolf. Mine.
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TRIAL 2
Harry approached the cage for the second time and felt his chest tightening apprehensively. It took more willpower than he was comfortable admitting to make himself step over the line into the cage again. He took a deep breath as the bars clanged shut behind him.
He turned around and deliberately wrapped his hands around the bars meeting Hermione's serious dark brown gaze. "So what's the secret plan then?"
She licked her lips nervously and her gaze darted to the door which opened not a second later. Sirius Black strolled in followed by his newly wedded spouse Remus Black.
"So I heard you went and got yourself a few more scars, Harry." Sirius's words were casual, but his gaze was sharp as he inspected his godson.
Harry would have glared at Hermione if he had been able to do anything except stare down Remus, who had met his gaze for a tense moment before dropping his golden gaze to the floor.
Hermione's pulse had picked up as she rushed into explanations. "Look I know you didn't want to involve them, but he's more dominant than any other wolf we've encountered and Lavender could barely-" Hermione cut off as she finally glanced at Remus who had stopped frozen with his gaze on the ground.
"Moony?" Sirius questioned also noticing Remus' behavior.
Pack.
Harry's gaze never wavered from Remus' bent head, his nostrils flaring as he smelled the other wolf. What the fuck was wrong with that wolf? His fingertips burned as his nails curved and darkened, darker coarse hair covering his skin, and his claws clicked against the bars.
His head tilted and pressed closer to the cage. A sound emerged from Remus, a low barely audible whimper and Harry's hand shot out, reaching for him.
"Come." The word was garbled amongst the teeth that had sharpened in his mouth.
"Usually the presence of another wolf is calming–" Hermione's voice was high pitched and she cut off as Remus began to approach the cage. "No! Don't get close!"
"Moony-" Sirius clasped his elbow and was thrown off violently, losing his balance before coming back and grabbing Remus around the chest to try to slow him down. "What the fuck! Stop!"
Hermione dashed in front of Remus to try to help Sirius keep him away from Harry's outstretched hand. "Remus please!" She grabbed her wand raising it and ignoring Harry's angry growls for her stop. "Protego!"
The shield spell expanded between Harry in the cage and the two of them holding desperately onto Remus. Hermione felt the shield spell push against her back as Remus continued to move forward his face set and eyes locked on Harry.
"Hermione!" Harry's voice whipped out as she was squished between Remus and the force of her own shield spell.
Hermione wasn't quite sure what happened after that, there was an explosion that seemed to rock the foundations of Grimmauld and suddenly a claw appeared shoving Remus back while an arm wrapped around her waist.
She had a brief moment to see Remus and Sirius's shocked faces before she pressed the tip of her ring on the arm wrapped around her waist. She heard Harry's pissed-off growl as he tried to clutch onto her when she literally dropped to the floor out of his arms as he disappeared yanked by the portkey to the black lake.
"What the bloody fucking hell was that!?" Sirius shouted, grey eyes wide and fixed on the mangled werewolf cage.
Hermione stood up shakily, dusting herself off. "There may have been a few things Harry didn't want to tell you."
"I've never — never felt anything like that." Remus was still dazedly staring at where Harry had been, unmoving from where he had fallen when Harry had pushed him back.
Hermione's head snapped up at that statement. "This is different from other alpha werewolves you've encountered?"
The silence stretched as she waited for her answer until Sirius reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "Moony. What happened?"
Remus blinked, his golden eyes going to meet the silver of Sirius'. "I heard you but I couldn't stop, it was like being imperioused. There was nothing– like getting a command from —" Remus cut off looking uncomfortable.
Hermione went closer kneeling down beside him. "I need to know, I can't help him when I don't know exactly what I'm dealing with."
Remus stood up, clasping his arms behind his back, leaning forward slightly as he had done as their professor when he was about to lecture. "When I encounter another werewolf there's always a pause when we meet, something about the wolf inside us, which establishes our order." He shifted uncomfortably. "Our order of dominance- it is not a fight or anything like that usually, we just know, in a moment. Instinct if you will."
One of his hands came up and scrubbed his scarred face roughly as if bracing himself. "The only person I would have fought to establish dominance was Fenrir, our wolves were too equal to one another in strength. I've never-never felt anything close to what I did when I faced Harry."
"What did it feel like?"
Remus's hands clasped tightly again behind his back and he met her eyes. "Like I wasn't just facing one werewolf like I was facing something more, too many to count. There was no moment of establishing order, he did not assert dominance as one alpha to another, it was more powerful than that." He cleared his throat. "As if he were some kind of deity and I merely a follower."
The hairs on Hermione's neck prickled at the description.
Sirius laughed. "Moony just because you got rolled by Harry don't go waxing poetic."
Hermione looked away from Remus' questioning gaze as Sirius laughed.