Wolves have often been the subject of much strife over the course of human history. They kill the sheep to fill their bellies, taking only what they need; but then, the story changes. The wolves are greedy, they slaughter without thought, without mercy, without sense. The wolf is turned from a clever hunter into a child-eating monster in no time. This is how wolves are thought of, and have been since the dawn of shepherds.

These thoughts can come to be far more accurate than those who perpetuate them even dreamed of. A cornered wolf is far more dangerous than one who fills its belly with the flock. The large, dangerous predators are just as afraid of the humans as the humans are of them, if not exceedingly so. A wolf knows it has no chance against a united force, even in a pack, the humans win. There is an imbalance of power; a curse of man upon the wolf, and there is nothing the animal can do to rectify this tragedy.

A wolf will hunt and play and care for its own. It will defend itself and those it cares for or lords over. Humans are the most dangerous enemy a wolf has to face, and it will face them from the side, from the back, and from the front, if they must. A wolf cannot win against the humans; not alone. They are called cowards and fiends just by evening out the score with a fair fight. The magic of wolves gives some balance to the curse brought upon them by man, but it never seems to be enough.

The wolves grow tired and hungry; there must be an escape.

Worrying

After the night of the new moon, everything seemed to get better. Hermione was vastly more cheerful, although the longing to be with the other werewolf never truly went away. She managed it as well as she could, given her circumstances, and she thought she was doing well. As the weeks went on, Hermione felt slightly more at ease with her friends and classmates; and as the full moon approached, she noticed a creeping sense of boldness that was outside of her usual tenacity. The week leading up to the full moon, she could hardly contain her excitement. She was going to see Fen again, and there was a growing sense of fevered titillation toward the rise of the moon itself. The young werewolf had the itching urge to run, to chase, it didn't matter what. She could hardly sit still at the one Quidditch practice she had attended; everything was moving and her eyes marked each motion as it happened. \

The day before the full moon, Hermione was ansty. She struggled to take her usually meticulous notes, and was distracted by nearly everything around her. Justin was sniffling today, and it was loud, despite him being so far across the greenhouse from her during Herbology. Any small critter that skittered around on the greenhouse floor caught her attention for longer than she wanted to admit. When the time finally came for classes to end, Hermione nearly skipped out. She dropped her bag in her dormitory and spent the rest of the day outdoors, walking near the lake, taking in the scents of everything around her, trying to keep herself calm until that evening.

Several hours later, the young witch made her way out to the dark forest, her keen hearing a great ally in ensuring she avoided any prying eyes along the way. She could not get caught. She was a little nervous about going into the forest, but sighting Fen's eyes glinting at her from just within the trees made her smile and forget her fears. She was home.

He gave her a happy grin that bordered on a smirk and asked her how she was.

"Classes are easier than I'd like, I don't have to pay as much attention as I should, and I get fidgety," she admitted. The other werewolf laughed and Hermione frowned; there was something different about him today. She couldn't quite put her finger on it until he turned to her with a wide grin.

"Your teeth!" she exclaimed, surprised. Indeed, the canines that had once been an inconspicuous length were now much longer and larger. They glinted in what little light was left from the setting sun.

Fen laughed heartily, revealing even more of his long teeth, "Wolf," he said simply.

Hermione ran her tongue over her own teeth as if to check them for the same issue. Finding everything to be in the way she left it, she frowned slightly. "Will I—?"

"Someday," he smirked at her, "Ready?"

Hermione nodded eagerly, she was absolutely ready for the full moon. She knew they had a while until then; her blood did not yet race wildly through her veins. She darted off, leaving the older werewolf to chase her further into the forest. She was so thrilled to have the wind race through her hair and the ground pound by underneath her feet. She felt so alive. Fen had been right when he had first spoken to her about the transformation; it was the worst pain the small girl could imagine, and then the most free she had ever felt. It was worth it.

As they ran, the small werewolf could feel the bond that tied her to the larger male who was hot on her trail. She had missed him. There were times when she swore she could feel the vague impressions of others somewhere down the trail that held her to the pack, but they were little more than cooling coals next to the glowing presence of the bond she had with Fen. She allowed her delight to sneak onto her face and could not keep herself from smiling and laughing as Fen played chase with her.

When they had finished their fun and Hermione could feel her body begin to ache at the presence of the moon coming up on the horizon, they stopped romping around and found a small clearing. Hermione took a deep breath, this was the hard part. The ache trailed slowly up her back and into her limbs, growing greater from the source the further it spread. She felt her heart begin to race and she knew her breathing was ragged. She managed one last glance at Fen, who gave her a sympathetic smile, before the pain grew too great and all she knew was the feverish cracking of her own bones.

The night had passed too quickly, and too soon Hermione found herself pulling on her clothes in the cold morning mist of the Forbidden Forest. She glanced up at Fen, who had his back to her. Her lip trembled slightly; the weeks ahead were not going to be easy, but now she'd been through them before. She would be fine.

She stood, making little noise on the forest floor. Fen turned at her movements and he met her eyes, his own icy irises filled with a measure of concern. Without waiting for an invitation, the girl threw her arms around him, clinging tightly to his middle.

"I'll miss you too, cub."

The young werewolf couldn't bear to let go of him and was grateful for his comforting hand wrapped around her shoulders. She took in the elder werewolf's scent, memorizing it once more. It was strong and comforting, like a summer's campfire. It was home.

Hermione closed her eyes and took one last deep breath of the Alpha's scent before she reluctantly pushed herself away from him. She looked up, wiping away the beginnings of tears in her eyes. She would not cry. "I'll see you next month, Alpha?"

He gave her a small smile and a nod. "Stay safe, little one."

Then he was gone.

Hermione knew that Harry had been hearing voices in the walls. It was more than a little worrisome. Ron had said it wasn't normal for even wizards to be hearing voices. Hermione hadn't heard voices, but she could certainly hear other things that happened in the castle. Every gush of water through the pipes, the staircases grinding against each other or slamming to stops as they hit landings, her classmate's whispers. Sometimes she wished she were better at shutting it all out. If there was something for her to focus on, it was easier to keep the rest at bay, but she had not been so fortunate that night.

The trio had just left Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party and Hermione was starving. Hopefully there was still some good food left in the Great Hall. The party had not been particularly pleasant; it had been noisy; ghosts in particular had a high-pitched hum about them that made Hermione shudder when more than one got close enough together. After some mingling, the three students quietly slipped out. It really was not the place for them. There was just too much death.

The three were chatting excitedly about the feast when Harry came to a sudden stop.

Hermione turned, watching the black-haired boy's eyes unfocus, like he was listening for something.

"Harry?" Ron called impatiently.

"Can't you hear it‽" Harry began to run, following whatever noise he was hearing. "It's the voice again!"

Hermione darted after him, immediately concerned. There was a noise the Harry was following, but it certainly wasn't a voice. It was just some water running up the pipes. It was a sound Hermione had heard often of late. It wasn't a big deal. As she followed Harry's frantic footsteps, she began to pick up a scent she didn't like. It was metallic and cold and wrong.

She nearly crashed into Harry at the top of a staircase. The witch skidded to a stop next to her friend, her eyes growing wide at the sight before them.

There was blood on the walls, horribly arranged into a single sentence:

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened; enemies of the heir, beware!"

Hermione tried not to gag as the scent overpowered her nose; opening her mouth only made the sensation worse. She could practically taste the blood on the walls; it was cold and afraid, but it wasn't human. She was certain of it, though she could not understand why, other than it smelled wrong.

"Hermione?"

She jumped, it was her turn to act strangely, she supposed. Both of her friends wore concerned looks. The girl looked around and realized she had stepped into the midst of the crime in order to better decipher the smells.

"It's not human," she said quietly.

"How can you tell?" The red-headed boy demanded, also moving closer to investigate.

Hermione froze for a moment, she hadn't thought her plan through well enough. "It's the color," she lied quickly. "It dried too light." She hoped they bought it; they did.

"Hmm, I don't see it, but I believe you, Hermione."

"What's the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry asked, still staring at the wall.

Ron responded with a shrug of his shoulders, "Dunno, Harry."

"Whatever it is, I don't think it's good news." Hermione said, another scent drifting toward her nose. Cat. She looked around a little before her gaze traveled straight upward, her eyes landing on a still form hanging above her head. "Is that…"

"Mrs. Norris!" The voice of a distraught Argus Filch made all three students jump. The caretaker loved that grumpy old tabby, and now it looked as though she was dead.

Hermione didn't think she was, the cat smelled strange, but not with the same stench of anything dead enough to be so stiff. She could not reveal what she knew, however, and instead took the bombardment from the caretaker.

"You've killed my cat!" he glared at her, "I always said you don' belong here!"

Hermione had a retort on the tip of her tongue when she was interrupted by McGonagall's sudden appearance. "Argus! What is going on?" The woman's eyes nearly bogged out of her head at the sight of the disaster on the wall. She turned pale and Hermione could smell the older woman's anxiety.

"These monsters have murdered my cat! I'll see they pay for this!"

"Nonsense, Argus, I'm quite certain they had nothing to do with this." The transfiguration professor's normally steady voice was quite shrill and upset. She turned to the three students, her face still ever so pale. "Go to you dormitory immediately!"

The three turned to leave, but it was too late. The Great Hall was emptying and students of all ages were filling up the corridor on the way to bed. Hermione should have known, she had heard them, but was so preoccupied with not growling at Filch that she had ignored the sounds of chatter and footsteps.

She managed to only growl under her breath at Malfoy's unimaginative jab at her heritage. She really was beginning to hate the boy. If only he knew about her blood, her real blood. Fen said blood didn't matter, they were all werewolves, and Hermione quite liked that sentiment. She stopped her musings as Snape showed up in the corridor and loud arguing ensued.

The next thing she knew, she was being funnelled back to the common room, unable to find Harry or Ron. There was nothing to do but move forward, or get into greater trouble. Worried for her friends, the small werewolf sat in the common room until Harry and Ron came in, both looking rather pale. They weren't in trouble, but apparently the school was. Hermione resolved to find out what this Chamber of Secrets was, and why it made everyone so afraid.

A/N: Sorry for the late update, guys! My internet has been out for a frustratingly long amount of time. I have managed to upload this via my phone hotspot because it's just gotten that bad. Enjoy!