A cub striking out on her own can be the most worrisome time, both for the cub and for the parent. The power that the moon grants does not sate the concern that bubbles to the surface for both as they continue into a different stage of life. As a young wolf grows, the mentor must begin to let go, to let the cub make their own mistakes. There are some things that must be learned first-hand. No matter how often someone is warned, it never truly prepares them for the sting of discrimination or betrayal.

A wolf is different from other animals; they are easy to spot when they do not hide. However, a hidden wolf can be near impossible to pick out from the crowd. So it goes when a wolf tries to pass as something else, its disguise must be perfect; just flawed enough to seem real. When hurt, a wolf's instinct is to snap back at its attacker, but that will absolutely give it away, which is something it cannot allow. In order to remain hidden, a wolf must give much, including the safety and security that come from others of their kind.

A wolf must sacrifice in order to blend in; hide, or be ostracized.

Returns

Despite Fen's misgivings, Hermione was fine. Her troubled feelings were washed away as soon as her friends ran up to her, practically attacking her with ecstatic smiles and tight hugs that overwhelmed her sensitive nose. For some reason, she expected there to be some huge sign painted across her forehead that screamed "werewolf" to every passerby, but no one seemed to notice. Fen had been right, as long as she was careful, they would never know. After a summer of just allowing her new wolfish instincts through to the surface when she was at home, she knew she was going to have a hard time adjusting to keeping back the quiet growls and her habit of sniffing the air when something confused her.

The young werewolf found herself having a hard time doing just that when assaulted with all the sights and scents that permeated Diagon Alley. Her parents gave her a concerned look when she hesitated for a few moments, trying to clear her head. She gave them a bright smile, hoping it was as assuring as she had meant it to be. She was relieved when they entered Flourish and Blotts, the smell of old books, and something else that was very pleasant to her sensitive nose permeated the air enough to dull the other scents in the crowded. Gilderoy Lockhart was in the shop, and she had never imagined he would smell quite so nice; there was a bitter twinge underneath it all, but the girl chalked it up to the massive crowd that was threatening to burst the small shop at the seams. She lost herself in the heat of the moment as Lockhart swept Harry up into the buzz of the publicity and proclaimed his upcoming tenure at Hogwarts. It was all so overwhelming and wonderful, she did not immediately notice the Malfoys come up behind them during the ado.

The hairs on the girl's neck stood up when a strong, cold, hateful scent met her nose. She spun to notice the Malfoys, with their leering, turned-up noses, poking at a red-faced Mr. Weasley. Biting back a small growl, Hermione went to join her friends; she focused on trying to hold Ron back as the elder Malfoy made verbal jabs at his father and his family. Close to angry tears herself, it was all the girl could do to hold back the growl in her throat and the urge to gnash her teeth. She let out a shocked yelp when the normally calm Arthur Weasley launched himself at Lucius Malfoy, though she didn't see much of their tussle before it was broken up by a determined Hagrid.

Later, back in Harry and Ron's room in the Leaky Cauldron, the group of schoolmates discussed what they had seen in the Alley, including Harry's accidental trip to Knockturn Alley.

"I'm telling you, they're dark wizards!" Ron said vehemently.

Harry nodded vigorously.

Hermione, always one to try to play devil's advocate, had neither a rebuttal nor the will to come up with one for that horrible family. She could smell the annoyance and fear from the boys sitting on the bed across from her and Ginny, with a slightly different scent coming from the girl next to her.

The red-head suddenly stood and exclaimed, rather louder than was necessary, "How was your trip, Hermione?"

Both boys seemed to immediately forget their troubles with the Malfoys and leaned in to hear Hermione's tales of France. She told them whatever she could that excluded any mention of werewolves. When Ginny asked her about the pendant hanging around her neck, she froze for a moment.

Thinking quickly she said, "It was a gift from someone I met in France." It wasn't a lie, not really.

Ginny raised her eyebrows at the statement. "Just a friend? Or something else?" The other girl grinned.

The boys heads whipped back to Hermione so quickly she was surprised they didn't have whiplash. She gave a laugh, hoping it was not too unsure. "Just a friend. You remember the book store owner I told you about?" Dropping the pseudo-explanation there, she hoped they would follow the path she had meant them to go down and drop the subject.

Which was exactly what they did. The conversation soon moved on to other subjects and the pendant was long forgotten by her friends. Hermione was at ease once more, though she decided to wear her pendant a little longer on its string, as it seemed to draw attention wherever it went, which was something the young werewolf really wanted to avoid. If no one noticed anything, that was far less that she'd have to deny.

It was not until the first Saturday of the term that Hermione once again was confronted with the fact that she was different. It was just after the Gyrffindor Quiddditch team had started the first practice of the year. Hermione was in the stands close to the pitch, and growled quietly when she saw a band of silver and green robes sauntering towards the center of the field. She immediately stood, knowing that an argument would inevitably ensue.

Wood flew down, rather faster than was necessary, on his broom, and nearly jumped off his broom in his haste to confront the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"Shove off, Flint, the pitch is ours this morning." Hermione heard Wood say, almost politely.

"Not anymore, Wood," the large Slytherin sneered, with his compatriots laughing behind him.

Hermione caught the distinct cold, proud scent of Draco Malfoy before she saw him. He smelled more haughty than normal, if that was even possible. She also caught the scent of paint and what must have been the brand new brooms each member of the Slytherin team was carrying.

The rest of the Gryffindor team landed behind Wood and began arguing with their schoolmates. Hermione merely rolled her eyes, as accustomed as she was to the antics between the Slytherins and her own house. It was not until Malfoy stepped forward and said something about money and his father that Hermione snapped.

Holding back a snarl that she knew would give her away, she smirked, "So you need the pitch because you aren't actually good, you just bought your way onto the team with your Father's money."

She could smell the fury coming off of him as soon as the words left her lips, she knew she had struck a nerve. She felt rather proud of her jab before he shot back at her.

"No matter how many friends you have, or how much money, you'll never been anything more than a stinking, half-breed mudblood."

Hermione didn't need to know the meaning of Malfoy's words to know that they were cruel. She had to bite back her tongue to stifle a growl, causing tears to come to her eyes. The boy in front of her reeked of disdain and superiority, but she did not have time to react before her fellow Gryffindors jumped in and attacked the Slytherins. There was chaos; Hermione's nose was overwhelmed with the scents of anger and fear and sweat. She saw Ron raise his broken wand out of the corner of her eye and tried to stop him, but she was too far away; too late. Whatever spell he had attempted to curse Malfoy with immediately backfired, hitting the red-head square in the chest.

Thinking quickly in front of the now roaring Slytherins, Hermione grabbed Harry and they escorted Ron away as quickly as possible. The poor boy wretched up slugs all afternoon; the scent of their slime overwhelming Hermione's nose. Hermione watched as Hagrid and Ron, with great effort, as he was still coughing up the slimy gastropods, explain to Harry about blood purity. Hermione was already very aware of the problem, having been well-read. She was unaware of the particular insult Malfoy had used earlier that day, but it was not hard to tell what the crude bully had meant by it. She had dirty blood; well, the joke was on him, not only was she muggle-born, but she wasn't even fully human.

The new moon following her arrival at Hogwarts was the worst Hermione had to endure so far. She was close to tears the entire day, and when she finally did burst into tears when she was left without a partner in a simple Transfiguration exercise did MacGonagall excuse her from the rest of her classes for the day; something that irked her to the depths of her soul. She hoped the rest of her new moons didn't make her so emotionally distraught. She could feel Fen's concern, despite the fuzziness of the bond that was typical of the new moon. Hermione missed the large werewolf; she had been so busy with her classes that she hadn't let herself stop to think about how much she missed the semi-regular visits Fen would have with her.

The girl looked around her empty dorm room and whined with a measure of despondency. She was so tired today. It didn't help that she knew it was only due to the moon's magical influence on her, she still felt wretched. Her heart hurt and her head hurt and she wanted nothing more than to sleep until it was all over; but sleep was the one thing that eluded her all afternoon. She tossed and turned in her four-poster bed, nursing her aching heart, choking back even more tears the longer she was alone.

Hermione tried to concentrate on the good things; no one had noticed she had changed, no one saw the differences. She was trying to be proud of herself for how well she had done the past two weeks, but couldn't hold on to such thoughts for long enough for them to matter. She managed to drag herself out of her room for an early dinner in the Great Hall, just in time to avoid everyone else coming in to eat. She snuck back up to her room as stealthily as possible; she really did not have the energy to interact with any of her friends, and especially not with the Slytherins.

She curled up in her bed quietly, pulling the curtains around her as she wrapped herself up in her blankets, willing herself to sleep before her roommates came up from dinner. It didn't work as well as she hoped it would, and she lay awake listening to the other girls chatted. Hermione tried to dull the sound to a dull murmur, and it worked once they began whispering to each other. Once her roommates fell asleep, Hermione concentrated on the bond with the back, feeling the fuzziness from the day slowly dissipate. As the bond came back into focus, Hermione's eyelids drooped sleepily and she fell, finally, into a blissfully restorative sleep.

A/N: Sorry about the late chapter this week! Also, for those of you who have been asking, yes, eventually, this will be a Fenir/Hermione romance, but there's going to be a lot of emphasis on eventually =)

Sorry for those who already read last night. There was an error and the email didn't go out.