Any wolf knows that it cannot wander into town without causing a panic. Once a wolf sets foot among the humans, no matter the animal's intention, it cannot be trusted. Therefore, anything a wolf must accomplish around any number of humans must be done in absolute secrecy. For all the human's talks of the old days of witch-hunts, the wolves do not need to pass down stories of wolf-hunts to their children. The cubs are in just as much danger from the ravenous vengence that the humans exert as their forebears were. The moon changes a wolf; even a small wolf is stronger, faster, and better equipped to deal with the challenges of life than most humans. One wolf may be a lone wanderer in their eyes; something to be overlooked or forgiven. Two will cause alarm. A packful, however, will cause immediate panic.

Wolves eat children, or haven't you heard?

Acting

Fenrir rubbed his forehead, trying to decide the best course of action; he was tired. That morning, his bright, bushy-haired girl had explained to him her growing fears about whatever creature had been attacking the students. Of course, that was only after he had pushed her into revealing it. He could smell her nerves, and that was enough to worry him. Students petrified, the staff running scared; there was something wrong within that castle and everyone knew it. He could smell the fear on her; fear that was not entirely her own.

The adult werewolf knew the scent of fear well; it could be tantalizing and exciting, but that kind of fear and the fear he smelled on the cub were entirely different breeds of the instinctual emotion. It was a cold, clammy fear. It lingered and hung over people; it was not a fear that touched animals in the same manner. It was dread; a scent that could sting even human noses when it was strong enough. He did not like letting her go back to the castle that morning. He could not protect her there; not from whatever this dark magic was. He also knew she needed to learn to defend herself and interact with wizards in a way very few in the pack had learned before. If they were ever going to have true rights outside of Scandinavia, they needed someone the humans trusted. He hated that he had ulterior motives for keeping her in school, but he also knew she wanted to stay.

The girl loved to learn, and he could see it in her eyes and smell the excitement all over her when she told him what she was learning about in school. Fenrir had always been drawn to her, but he had grown to adore her even further in the time he had known her. She was clever and fierce and was going to serve the pack well and be served in return. He had watched her happily trot back to the castle after the last full moon with a sad smile and a heavy heart.

When he returned to the village several hours later, he tried to acknowledge those who greeted him as he passed, but he struggled to do much more than nod slightly to his pack. He was trying to devise a way to keep their youngest member safe, and it was looking more and more impossible. He knew several of the more perceptive members of the pack were giving him concerned glances; he knew they could smell his frustration. That was something he had never been able to hide.

He blamed the humans for the stress they were unknowingly causing on his pack. He snarled quietly just at the thought of them. Everything always came back to the humans. He hated them. They had taken Karen away from Andor...they had taken Remus too far to nurture...They had— The large werewolf growled where he stood; he was not going to think about that. He could not let them take her too; not from ignorance and not from prejudice. And yet, they already were putting her in danger. It tore at every part of him that he could not simply rescue her from the humans' inept clutches. If they tore into Hogwarts, not only would it give her away, but there would most certainly be a repeat of the wolf-hunts that haunted his memories. If it happened again, however, he was not certain anyone would make it out alive. No. Anything they did had to be done in secret.

As Fenrir neared his own hut at the end of the village, a slight movement on the edge of his vision caught his eye. He stopped, turning to look at the doorway to Geira's hut. The old woman was merely watching him, surrounded by a ring of light emitting from her cheerful fire. Sighing slightly, he switched directions and walked toward her. He did not meet her eyes, and she did not ask him to.

They spoke no words until Geira had placed a hot mug of tea in Fenrir's hands. Fenrir stared into the steaming liquid, unable to shake the concern he had felt since that morning.

"What can we do, Alpha?" Geira finally said in their native tongue.

Fenrir was taken aback, Geira had never asked him for advice. He may have been Alpha, but she was the wisest of them all. He did not feel like the leader he knew he was supposed to be; he had been a boy the last time he'd been forced to choose between the pack as a whole and one member he knew he loved.

"Nothing, Mamma," he replied, his voice shaking slightly. He could feel her frown on him; his mother had died the night he and his brother were bitten, ever so long ago. Geira had taken them in as teenagers, but they had risen so quickly through pack ranks that she refused to let them use the moniker after only a few months. He knew it was to protect both her safety and their security, but he still thought of her as the woman she was when she took them in.

"I did not let you call me that as a boy, and you won't start now, Fenrir Greyback," she scolded quietly, though he knew she was smiling. "Jormun's death wasn't your fault," she said seriously.

Fenrir shook his head angrily, "Then it was the humans', and I've placed her in the same amount of danger!" He was trying to come up with some way they could help; she was part of his pack as much as the rest, and he could not abandon her. The only way they could figure out what was going on inside that fortress of a school would be to send someone in. "There's no one we can send with enough secrecy that they won't figure out who we are."

He heard the door open behind him and caught the familiar scent of Andor. The man smelled sober, and a little afraid. He walked into the hut and sat down across from Fenrir.

"Forgive my intrusion, Elder," he apologized quietly.

Geira nodded graciously and went about fixing more tea like she often did. Fenrir surveyed his Beta for several moments, as the man seemed to be trying to gather the courage to speak. He had never shown hesitation before when he had an idea, and his ideas were usually good ones. There was something more personal in this than Fenrir could sense by just observing. Giving up for the moment, Fenrir focused on his tea until the other man finally spoke."

"Alpha, we can send Ylva."

Fenrir's eyes flew up and met the serious face of his friend and second. He could hear the pain in his voice as the words rolled off his tongue.

"No," Fenrir said, "I will not risk putting her in harm's' way."

"She's the only one we can send. Everyone else is too old," Andor whined. He clearly did not like the option any more than Fenrir did. "If she's as important to our future as you say—"

"I know," Fenrir growled. He did not want to send the only family Andor had left into a place where she was not going to be safe. He shook his head, Andor was right. Geira was right; they had to do something. He just hated that in involved sending another cub into a castle full of humans. "I know she'd go if I asked."

Fenrir ran a hand through his hair, "I don't like it, Andor. I will not send her unless we have no other choice."

Ylva steeled herself as they entered the village of Hogsmeade. She had been eager to help; to join the other member of their pack at the wizarding school. She knew her father and Fenrir had both been reluctant to let her go. She knew it was dangerous where she was going, but it wasn't the danger that had set off her nerves. The girl had never before been so far from home. She knew very little of life outside the pack, and had never truly interacted with humans before, not ones who did not know who she was, anyway. She gave her father a nervous glance, but returned his assuring smile. He could not hide his fearful scent from her, but she was determined to do well. She was going to be brave.

They walked up to the gates of the castle and were greeted by an older witch with stern lips and tight, greying hair.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Mr. Vollan, Miss Vollan. I am Professor McGonagall. Just as a final warning to you, we've had quite a bit of trouble these last few months with an unknown entity attacking our students. I would once again advise you to keep your daughter at home until they can be resolved."

"Thank you for your honesty, McGonagall. Unfortunately, we have reached a point where Ylva can no longer stay at home to learn. We just cannot afford the tutoring any longer."

Ylva watched as her father lied with ease to the human before them.

"I understand. In any case, we are glad you have chosen to bring her here. I am sure she will make some fast friends. Now, before you can be given a room, you must be sorted into a house. Come up to the castle and we shall begin."

Ylva followed silently, taking in all the strange sights and smells that were threatening to overwhelm her senses. They were wondrous, beyond anything she had imagined. She sent her father an excited grin and continued to follow the witch into the castle.

"Now, how old are you, Miss Vollan?"

"Thirteen," she stated, refusing to be intimidated by everything new she saw around her. She was used to being around all sorts of magics, so even the strange things she saw in the castle should not be allowed to overwhelm her senses. She was here for a reason.

Ylva frowned slightly as the woman procured an old, ratty hat from a cupboard at set it on Ylva's head. The woman looked quite pleased. Ylva jumped when the hat began to speak, muttering things about her thoughts that made her uncomfortable.

"Aah! You, my dear, have a secret, but there is no ill intent behind it, I see. A wolf? Interesting, it's been years since I have seen one of your kind in through the school. But that is not your only secret is it? You are here for protection. Someone you care for. Family? Perhaps someone who is not yet family. It is very brave of you to come here for such a task. You might do well in Hufflepuff, with such a kind heart; but I think it'd better be Gryffindor."

The hat called out it's choice of houses and McGonagall pulled it off her head.

"It's so nice to see new students come into my own house," the woman quirked a smile, which seemed about as amused as she ever got. Her scent was certainly more thrilled than her face was letting on.

Ylva did not know what Griffindor was or what it had to do with where she slept, but she accepted it, hoping to soon run into her new friend. She was not disappointed.

"Professor?"

Another girl had entered. She froze at the sight of Ylva and her father. Ylva stared back; this little curly-haired girl was part of their pack. She could smell it. She smiled at the girl.

"Ah, Miss Granger, this is Ylva Vollan. She is a new student. Could you show her to your dormitories, please?"

The girl nodded, still looking rather stunned.

Ylva said a quick goodbye to her father and left, following the girl out of the office and into the halls.

Once out of the way of most traffic, the curly-haired wolf pulled her into an empty classroom.

"You're like me," she said quietly, her eyes wide and untrusting.

Ylva nodded. "Alpha sent me. We are family!" She smiled brightly, hoping to ease the girl's fears.

Ylva watched as the girl's posture seemed to relax. Her scent brightened rapidly as she seemed to take in Ylva's scent. She introduced herself properly and Ylva immediately felt more at home. She wondered how the other girl had managed to do this all alone for so long. Well, she didn't have to be alone any more.

A/N: Sorry about the lateness of this chapter. I re-wrote it at least three times before I was happy with the way it turned out.

Cheers~