A/N: Hey y'all! Here is a new Fenrir x Hermione story. It's inspired by the M83 song Go! so you should definitely check that out if you want. Although this chapter takes place in third year, don't worry, Hermione is going to be of age in this for sure before anything happens. The next chapter will involve a lot of time jumps. I think this will be around 15 chapters, but I am not really sure yet. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) if you'd like. I post sneak peeks, story previews, and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter one and be on the lookout for chapter two soon!


Hermione Granger wondered if her life would ever be normal with a best friend like Harry Potter. Here it was the third time that she was fighting for her life, and she was already more tired than a fourteen year old girl should be. The first year, they'd fought through the Professors obstacles to get to the Sorcerer's Stone. Last year, she'd been petrified by a basilisk whilst helping Harry figure out who the heir of Slytherin was.

And now, she was running through the Forbidden Forest, using her time turner for a reason that was certainly not authorized by the Ministry, no matter what Headmaster Dumbledore had told her. Still, she knew that it was a chance for her to bring some good to Harry's life, and the right the wrong of Buckbeak's execution.

Still, she hated the idea that it always seemed to fall to her to make sure they got out of scrapes with danger. It was difficult for her to always be on her game and try to remember everything that needed to fall in place. She'd already been through so much this night, and she wasn't even done yet...she had to do it all again, dragging Harry along and making sure that he didn't get them caught.

Not only had they confronted Sirius Black that night, but they'd learned that Ron's familiar Scabbers was actually a man, an animagus, and one of Harry's dad's old school mates. It was a disgusting realization that Hermione almost couldn't stomach, the thought of that twitchy little man hiding amongst the Weasleys for years, because he was the one truly responsible for the Potters' deaths.

Hermione had felt particularily vinidicated as Crookshanks had been constantly pestering the little rat, and she couldn't wait to rub it in Ron's face when he was finally out of the hospital wing. She was not mean enough to do it to him when his broken leg was still mending. But, she did plan on giving Crookshanks a vast quanity of treats for being such a good cat.

It was good, Hermione thought, that Harry learned that his godfather wasn't responsible for his parents' deaths. She thought that it would be a really positive thing in his life to have some connection to the people that James and Lily Potter were, especially after she'd seen just how much Remus's presense in his life had helped. Really, it was one of the only reasons she agreed to use the time turner for this purpose. It was just cruel to give Harry hope for literally only a few hours, only to lose it all again. Helping Buckbeak was just a bonus.

But, she had to go back to being the responsible one, keeping Harry out of sight and trying to remember each and every step they had taken earlier that day. Like, for instance, why weren't they leaving Hagrid's hut? They were going to be caught by Fudge and Malfoy!

Looking down, Hermione noticed an odd looking rock. Ah yes, she remembered, picking it up before taking aim at the open window. She felt a surge of confidence, knowing that she'd already done this once before. She was sure she'd be successful once again.


Fenrir didn't know what it was that was drawing him back to the Dark Forest month after month. He hadn't gone to Hogwarts when he was a child, seeing as werewolves like him weren't accepted at that time. Dumbledore hadn't made any exceptions for him, like he'd made for his cub - good, sweet, sad, shabby Remus Lupin.

No, instead Fenrir had been schooled at home by a resentful wizarding father and a weak muggle mother. He was sure that when his father had come to England from Norway he hadn't been expecting to raise a werewolf child, who snuck out one full moon to go camping. He'd received abuse from his own father and his mother never stepped in to save him, not understanding the beast that her son had become.

When he finally left his home, he only found continued abuse from wizards and witches who despised werewolves. He wanted to shout at them that he hadn't asked for this life, but it had been given to him none the less. It wasn't until he found a werewolf pack that he began to feel welcomed. Creating new werewolves only enhanced that feeling for him.

Even though he'd come to despise wizards, he'd found himself feeling compelled to head back to the Forest surrounding the school every time he began to feel the moon's pull. Perhaps he did feel some need to be with his packmates, and the pull of the werewolf's bite wanted to reunite him with Lupin, who was teaching at the school. He hated that his cub was constantly fighting against his werewolf nature by taking that thrice damned wolfsbane. The idea that the man would just curl up in his office, when he could be out, running in the forest, understanding his true natureā€¦

Remus Lupin always seemed to be a man of exceptions.

Sighing as he prepared for the change, Fenrir let some of the tension leave his body. It wasn't as if being a werewolf was an easy life, but he did find pleasure in simple things. Like the idea that his howling at night might be frightening Hogwarts students in their beds. He knew that he was quite loud. And it was nice to finally give truth to the old warnings that there were werewolves in the Forest. Even if there weren't any others than him.

He wondered what would happen if all the students realized that their precious professor was a werewolf as well.

Scowling at the sun still hanging low in the sky, Fenrir hated this time of year, when the days got longer and the nights got shorter. He longed for the summer solstice, so that each night, each time he was reunited with his beloved moon, was longer.


It hadn't been easy to get Buckbeak to come with them, but a few well placed Hippogryff treats had him trotting along happily behind her and Harry. Now she just needed to keep Buckbeak and Harry quiet enough to sneak away. She needed to see what happened with the wizards in Hagrid's hut.

To her immense relief, she saw they were utterly perplexed and frustrated that Buckbeak had somehow gotten free, having seen him tied up only moments before. The executioner they brought along had even raised his arms in furry, swinging down his axe to chop a rather large pumpkin in half.

Before she knew it, the sun was setting and the moon was quickly beginning to rise. That was when she remembered that Professor Lupin was going to be transforming in just a few short minutes, without having taken his wolfsbane potion. Hermione had been furious at having kept Lupin's secret all through the year, only to believe him to have betrayed them. She was slightly annoyed that Harry and Ron hadn't had an inkling that something was not right with their professor.

She and Harry had crept back along the Forest's edge towards the Whomping Willow, only to watch Professor Lupin transform before their eyes, in a sickening crunch of bones. She'd been horrified to see it before, but seeing it a second time didn't make it any easier. It looked incredibly painful.

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand tightly while they watched Sirius in his own animagus form trying to fight Professor Lupin off of them, to keep them safe. Her heart even softened a bit to see Professor Snape through himself between them and the werewolf. But she couldn't stop the niggling feeling that she needed to do something to help them out.

Her eyebrows drawn tight in concentration, Hermione struggled to remember what it was that got Professor Lupin's attention the first time through the night. Oh, it was so diffcult to keep all of the events straight after she'd been through so much.

Looking up at the moon, the memory struck her immediately. Cupping her hands around her mouth, Hermione began to howl at the moon, hoping that Lupin would answer the call of his own kind.

Harry shoved his hand over her mouth, halting the sound in her throat. "Hermione! What do you think you are doing?" He whispered fiercely, obviously not to keen on having a werewolf come looking for them.

"Don't you remember? Lupin will answer the call of his own kind." Hermione whispered back. "We need to draw him away from us, like it happened the last time." Unwilling to let Harry stop her, Hermione marched away from him, before repeating the call, her howl ringing out through the vastness of the forest.

Little did she know that that action was going to change her life irrevocably.


Fenrir had always trusted his werewolf instincts, even when he was a little child. There was nothing to do except to accept the changes that came over him once a month. He didn't fight it, and he found that quickly became less painful. He'd even gotten to the point that he could change at will, even outside of the full moon, if he wanted to.

Over the years, he came to relish the change into the werewolf that came without question every month. He delighted in the changes of his body, but most noticeably the change in his senses. If his nose told him to go somewhere, he would go there. If his ears heard something, he would follow them. If his eyes saw something in the periphery, he could guarantee that it was really there.

It was unthinking, a nearly total loss of control, but instead of inspiring panic, it inspired a calm that washed over him month after month.

So when he heard the sweet piercing howl, calling him, in the Forbidden Forest, everything seemed to click into place. He knew this was what had been drawing him to Hogwarts every full moon. It wasn't Lupin, as he'd initially thought. No, instead, it was something so much sweeter. His mate.

Fenrir had heard of many werewolves having found their life mate, but he'd never imagined that he would have one himself. He was always too hard, too difficult to deal with, that the idea of having one woman so perfectly suited to him was preposterous. No, he'd always been suited to being an alpha, dealing with squabbles for territory and keeping his pack in line. He wasn't accustomed to keeping a woman happy.

But now, hearing that perfect, melodic, beautiful call, it struck him to his core and he knew that she really was out there after all. He wondered what his mate would be like, a rare hope blossoming in his chest for the first time in years. Decades even. Thanking his werewolf instincts for never failing him, Fenrir took off in the direction of the howl, needing to get a glimpse of her.

He looked for her all night, and though he came close, he was never able to find her. By the time his body went back through the change, making him human once again, he'd completely lost the track of her scent. It was fine, though. Fenrir knew that he could wait as long as it took.

His mate was at Hogwarts, and he was going to have her.