Loyalty is a strange breed of magic; it can be given, but never taken by force. Or so it is said. There are several creatures in this world whose loyalty is pressured into following a certain path. A wolf is an independent creature, who ought to only have loyalty toward the pack; it's family. Receiving aid from anyone outside the moon-given magic is not only dishonoring, but binds the wolf to their savior unequivocally. It does not matter how the wolf fights against the new bond; it will continue to pull the wolf to it, tighter and tighter until the wolf can no longer stand it.

Most wolves know not to trust a human. There are humans that save and humans that kill; and many that do both. Any time trapped in a bond with such a being often leads to death. Better to avoid them altogether. Humans bring nothing but destruction and death. They want loyalty and instead receive only a tenuous grasp on control.

You cannot cage a wolf for long.

Warnings

Dumbledore frowned. Taking a moment to stroke his beard, he surveyed the wealth of information before him. Laid out carefully on his massive desk were all his even more carefully constructed plans. He had a plan and did not like other interfering with it. There were some things he could not control, and just because he had to roll with whatever life threw at him didn't mean he enjoyed it. Harry had to be ready when the time came, and Dumbledore could not concentrate on the boy.

No. Instead, he had to worry about werewolves. One had been troubling enough, but he knew Harry would need Hermione before the end. She had more booksmarts than anyone, and they had become friends over the last year. By the time she had walked over the threshold and set off his warning wards at the beginning of the term, it was too late to get rid of her. On top of it all, now there was another one. The moment the Vollans had come onto the grounds, Dumbledore had known what they were, just as he knew that someone had been helping the Granger girl during her full moons. So far, none of the werewolves had hurt anyone, or even truly made themselves known, but the more of them there were, the more likely they were to be found out. He had to ensure they stayed a secret, or he may be deposed; the governors were already upset at his inability to combat the terror rampaging through the school. If word got out that there were werewolves at Hogwarts, it would be the end of his time at the school. He could not let that happen, he had to guide Harry to his destiny. The werewolves were only a minor matter, as long as they weren't from one of the few packs in Europe who would do anything to get back at him for some moves he had made against them in the past.

He found himself wondering which of the packs they belonged to. Werewolf children who ended up like Remus could not hide their afflictions; while the two girls currently roaming the halls did not seem to have an issue disguising their true natures. They had to belong to a strong pack; and there were some of those Dumbledore wanted nowhere near his school, his students, and his well-planned schemes.

He glanced out his office window over the grounds when he saw the werewolf ward flicker once more. Four werewolves on the grounds during a full moon. The old man sighed, watching the two girls sneak out of the castle and head toward the forest with no fear save for the worry they could get caught after-hours. He could not ask any of the students to get information out of them; they would tell, no matter their intentions. There was only one who he thought he could get away with retrieving information from the girls, and he may not even need to ask any direct questions. Perhaps they might even find some comradery.

With that thought in mind, and the growing knowledge that Lockhart was not going to be around for another year of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Dumbledore carefully took a clean parchment off its stack and began writing a letter.

After all, after four, what was one more werewolf?

Ylva had adjusted to classes fairly quickly with Hermione's help. Being indoors a majority of her time was unusual for the girl, and she often found herself restless; wishing she could be outside, but she persevered. The day after she had arrived, Hermione had introduced her to her housemates. Ylva was still thinking about the interaction several weeks later, when she and Hermione were heading out to the forest. Clearly, Hermione was thinking about it, too.

"Have you figured it out yet?" Hermione asked her, "He's going to think you don't like him if you keep frowning at him like that."

Ylva laughed apologetically and shook her head. "He just smells funny, Hermione. You really can't smell it?"

Hermione shook her head. "He smells like he always has, I suppose. He didn't smell any different after I was bitten, just...louder."

Ylva nodded. She was perplexed by the redhead, and, she found today, also by his sister. They both had a strange scent about them that she could not place. The moment she had gone near the Weasleys, she had noticed it. She felt as though she ought to know what each smell meant. She had studied and been tested in all manner of scent identification, but whatever made these Weasleys smell different was not something she had encountered before.

"It's important; I know it is. I just wish I knew why," Ylva whined quietly. She glanced back over her shoulder, glad to be out of the dark tunnel, but also not certain the grounds were any safer. She had always been told humans were trouble, not to be trusted, and now she was surrounded by them. After a moment of silence, she continued, "Are you sure we got out of there without anyone seeing?"

"Fred and George showed me that tunnel earlier this year. As far as I know, no one else knows about it," Hermione replied with a nod.

"It's just so big." Ylva shuddered slightly. There were so many windows and halls and corridors, she had finally stopped jumping at every turn, but the castle still made her nervous. She probably smelled like a nervous wreck. Trying to shake the feeling of the world closing in, she focused on Hermione's words. "Fred and George?"

"Oh! I forgot you haven't met them yet. They have been busy lately. They are two of Ron's older brothers," Hermione explained.

"There are more of them?" Ylva said, her eyes wide. She had a hard enough time imagining one sibling, let alone three. There were no other children in the pack, and Ylva was truly only used to dealing with adults. It was strange to be around so many people her own age. She was looking forward to seeing her Father tonight; she was missing something familiar.

At Hermione's laugh, Ylva stopped. "More than four?!"

"Ron and Ginny have five older brothers."

Ylva blinked rapidly. "Five? I've always wondered what having a brother or sister would be like…"

Hermione watched her new friend's demeanor go from wonderous and excited to suddenly pensieve. The other girl often had wide swings of mood, but most of those had to do with her nerves. Hermione had been wondrously overwhelmed at Hogwarts. Over the past several weeks she had learned that the tight spaces and massive amounts of people scared the other girl. She was slowly getting used to all the smells. It was easier for Hermione when she had first come after being bitten because everything was already familiar. It was all new for Ylva. She knew that most of the school attributed the girl's odd behavior to her story about homeschooling, but Hermione could guess the truth. Her friend had probably never lived outside the pack that Hermione so desperately wanted to know, and it was hard for her to be away from it. Perhaps that was one of the reasons Fen had been reluctant to reveal anything when she had asked him when she might meet the pack. She knew he wanted her to go to school, and she wanted to as well; and now Ylva was here too.

Hermione turned back to her friend, realizing that her scent had changed.

Ylva was sad; she was hiding it fairly well, but Hermione could smell it. She thought it odd that Fen paid special attention to her; weren't there more children in the pack that the two of them?

"Ylva, what happened to your mum?" Hermione asked quietly, not wanting to pry, but insatiably curious. She watched as the golden-haired girl bit her lip and glance deeper into the forest. Fen and Andor were waiting for them, looking concerned.

"Come with me, little one," Fen's quiet but firm voice made Hermione think she had made a mistake just by asking.

She stared up at Fen and Andor, both who looked very serious. She followed the large werewolf away from Ylva and her father. She was admittedly nervous; she knew she was woefully lacking in pack etiquette, and thought Ylva was helping a little, there were just things she didn't know. She didn't want to do anything wrong, and she especially did not want to open any old wounds.

Hermione followed Fen until they were well out of earshot of the other two werewolves. He sat down on a fallen log and gestured for her to join him. The lump in her throat grew; Fen didn't smell angry, but he was frowning. She already missed the smile he normally gave her when he saw her. She took a seat next to him and took a deep breath.

"You've done nothing wrong, pup," he said after a moment of silence, "Don't be afraid."

Hermione immediately breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. "Why are Ylva and I the only children in the pack?"

Fen sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair. Hermione could smell the sorrow on him and immediately let out a concerned whine.

"There are some things that I would rather forget, little one," he began. "As Alpha, I cannot forget. Do you understand?"

She nodded gravely. He was their leader; he had to be prepared for everything. It struck her that even though he was unable to teach her everything she wanted to know, Fen was good at making sure she understood his role in the pack. She did not have time to wonder why, however, as Fen began diving into a tale that almost immediately brought tears to her eyes.

"There was a time when we were treated even worse than we are now. It was a long time ago, now, but we've never recovered. The first wizarding war took its toll on us as well, but this is where it started. Several of the packs around Europe were rounded up; they let anyone who was not an Alpha go, and the rest had to stay. My brother and I were among those who were kept by the humans. He was Alpha at the time and fought hard."

Hermione put a hand on the large werewolf's arm. She wasn't certain where the story was going, but judging by Fen's angry, bitter scent, it was not going anywhere pleasant. She did not shirk away from him when a growl grew in his throat as he spoke.

"They thought if they could control the Alphas, then they could control the packs." Fen smiled sadly. "Which is, in essence, true. For a time, the humans kept us in-check by threatening to hunt us down. They had our Alphas, and losing an Alpha is not something that a pack easily recovers from without one to take its place. Jormun was Alpha then."

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were accumulating in her eyes, flooding down her cheeks. She knew the answer before even asking the question, but she couldn't believe it without hearing Fen say it himself. The wizards couldn't have been so cruel, could they?

Fen shook his head slightly. "We were rescued, but only some of us. Knowing I was safe was enough for Jormun. He died in a cage and the pack bond passed to me." The older werewolf seemed to be transported back to the time he was speaking of. There was pain on his face and in his scent. "I don't want you to trust the humans, little one. Don't put yourself in danger. If you ever owe someone your life, repay that debt as soon as possible."

The lump in Hermione's throat was back. She hadn't known just how much Fen distrusted and even hated humans. He had been hurt so much and was trying to protect her from a similar fate. She did not think her friends would be so unkind, but Fen was more experienced.

"Loyalty, Alpha?"

Fen nodded, "I don't know how the magic works, but we give it to each other; only occasionally challenging for it. Perhaps it is to balance our other gifts." He gave a slight shrug. "Humans don't need our permission to take our loyalty, they just need to be clever enough to save our lives. They become master over you as surely as the moon. Be careful, little one."

The curly-haired girl nodded. She could tell Fen was speaking from experience. She could smell the anger and worry coming off him and wanted to offer him some comfort, even though she felt like it was not truly her place to do so. She was just a cub, there was nothing she could give Fen that would reassure him. Stowing logic, if only for the moment, she followed her instinct and snuggled into the other werewolf's arms.

"I'll be careful, Alpha. I promise."

"Good." A smile graced his face and Hermione immediately lit up further. It was then she noticed the moon was close to the horizon. Soon, they would change and no longer worry about the past, or the future. Tonight, they would be more like a pack.

"What do you say we give Andor and Ylva something to chase tonight?"

Hermione grinned and squealed when Fen stood, throwing her onto his shoulders before taking off at a run into the forest.