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With bare feet, Hermione walked through the underbrush, her white robes billowing in the warm breeze that wound through the silent trees. She imagined if anyone saw her now, her clothes and too-pale skin glowing in the full moonlight, they would mistake her for a ghost.
They wouldn’t be too far off the mark either.
Everything had changed after the Battle of Hogwarts and not in a way she ever expected. So many died, but Tonks’s death had been the catalyst that altered Hermione’s fate forever. Remus had killed his sire, marking himself as the new alpha, only to witness his wife's demise a few moments later. His howls of grief had echoed through the castle and the pain had awakened something inside Hermione, drawing her to him like she was a planet previously adrift in the cosmos that had finally found its star. It wasn't until after the fighting ended that she understood why.
Hermione was Remus’s second mate.
No one had ever considered the possibility, because finding a mate at all was regarded as such a rarity amongst the werewolf community and if one was found, the strong bonding magic ensured the pair lived a long life together unless tragedy struck. In all her research over the past year, Hermione hadn’t uncovered a single example of a wolf finding another after the first was lost. They either lived well into old age or perished together.
Hermione chalked it up to the wolves’ unrelenting need to protect their mate until their dying breath and under normal circumstances she would consider it romantic. Only it was that same instinct to protect mixed with Remus’s grief over his dead wife and years of self-prejudices that had put Hermione in her current situation.
Her resistant mate's words repeatedly in her head as her fingers trailed over the rough tree bark on her pilgrim through the woods.
He was too old.
Too poor.
Too broken.
Too dangerous.
So many times those sentiments had been repeated. First as whispers. Then as pleas. They had been screamed at her once and sobbed so many times more, until the repetition and different tones blended together, creating the soundtrack of the past year of her existence.
All were the same arguments he used to resist Tonks before, only now the stubborn man saw her death as proof of their validity even though they played zero part in his wife’s demise. Still, Remus flat-out refused to saddle an even younger witch with such difficulties no matter how hard Hermione tried to debate his reasoning.
And it was hurting them both.
Hermione felt empty. Incomplete. Had felt this way for months and months until she could no longer enjoy any aspect of life. Food tasted like sand in her mouth. No amount of liquids - regular or alcoholic - could quench the thirst rolling in her belly and no other’s touch could calm the burning need that roared through her veins save one. Even thinking of him made her body pulse and ache with unfulfilled longing.
Worst of all, her magic had become erratic, like it was punishing her for not fulfilling her mating and she knew Remus had to be feeling the same. Yet he continued to turn her away, even when Hermione finally begged him on her knees with tears streaming down her face a couple of days ago.
All of this had given the young witch a newfound respect for what her dead metamorphmagus friend had suffered through Hermione’s sixth year. Not for the first time, she wished there was a way to contact Tonks in the afterlife. If anyone could give Hermione advice on what to do to crack the resolve of her ex-DADA professor, it would be the pinked-haired witch. Maybe then Hermione wouldn't have to resort to such desperate measures.
Measures that Remus would likely hate her for.
Measures which brought Hermione to the here and now, walking through the deep woods on the night of the full moon. She had been so nervous early in the evening that Remus would realize that she had tampered with his wolfsbane potion or that he would discover the dormant–and highly illegal–portkey she had hidden in his cage at Grimauld's place and was so relieved when it finally activated, bringing her mate to a warded part of the forbidden forest only a couple minutes after his transformation. All because she knew that while the man might be fighting their bond tooth and nail, there was a part of him that could not resist her. The wolf that called for her with growing intensity every night in her dreams.
Moony.
A howl echoed amongst the trees as if her thoughts had summoned him. Hermione turned towards it as she answered with one of her own, triggering memories of a similar scene from her second year. She should have known the truth then. She had read all about werewolves for the essay Snape assigned and the books clearly stated that while transformed, wolves only answered the call of their mates or pack. Hermione was definitely not pack which left only one option. With so little information on the subject of werewolf mates, she could only surmise that her age at the time had kept the bond from snapping into place.
Another howl echoed around her, closer this time, as she approached her destiny like a sacrificial lamb. Though she knew it was futile, Hermione wondered for the millionth time what would have happened if Tonks and Remus had never met. Then her and Remus’s mating bond would have come to light after her 17th birthday.
How different would her life have been if that happened? Mated before her 7th year, would she still go on the Horcrux hunt with Harry and Ron? Or would Remus have joined them? That likely would have been extremely helpful and kept them out of many disastrous events including what happened at Malfoy Manor. They probably would have found the Horcrux faster too.
Movement in the edge of her vision chased away her idle musings about a past that would never be.
Unafraid, Hermione turned to face the sandy-haired wolf as it approached her. After all her research and despite Remus’s misgivings she knew, as his mate, she had nothing to fear from the wolf. That protecting their mates was the single most driving instinct outside of procreating and even then, Moony would not do anything unless she initiated.
Golden eyes burned into hers as she opened her robes, exposing her naked skin to the elements and she saw Moony’s nostrils flare as he scented her arousal. Becoming wet the moment she was in his presence had become a regular thing the longer Remus resisted her advances. Like her body knew with his heightened senses he could smell it on her and was trying to entice him to her bed. It got so bad that the older wizard started to avoid her at every opportunity and any meeting had been meticulously plotted out on her part to no avail.
“Come here, Moony. Come claim your mate,” she cooed despite knowing every word betrayed Remus’s wishes. She just had to pray that he would forgive her once everything was said and done. Both of them were looking sicker by the day, having lost significant weight from the stress of his refusal and they couldn’t carry on like this for much longer.
This would be better for both of them in the long run.
Moony stalked closer and Hermione dropped the robes entirely as his warm wet nose went to the crevice of her thighs. She opened for him when he nuzzled further and gasped when she felt the soft fur of his snout brush against her aching clit as he sniffed her core. Hermione had not anticipated the pleasure that shot through her but after months and months of no relief from any source, including other lovers and muggle toys, what else could she have expected? Then when the wolf huffed out a breath of what she guessed was satisfaction, the unexpected current of air nearly sent her over the edge of a sorely needed climax.
Panting and desperate to be filled by him, Hermione tried to pull his head away so she could assume the on-all-fours position that her research said wolves favored while mating. Moony resisted with a whine and all her efforts ceased when his warm broad tongue darted out, tasting her cunt. A second lick wrenched the fastest, most brutal orgasm of her life out of her body and Hermione could do nothing but slump forward onto her wolf mate’s back to brace herself as he continued to lap up her release. The combination of his tongue and the soft fur rubbing against her too-sensitive nipples drew out two more rough orgasms in quick succession and they only stopped because her legs would no longer support her.
Hermione half-collapsed to the forest floor, the damp and cool leaf matter a blessed relief against her overheated skin as she panted for breath. That is, until a sandy muzzle nudged its way back between her legs again. Moony’s unrelenting tongue delved deeper with the new position and Hermione arched off the ground, clenching fists full of soft fur as her wolf feasted on her most sensitive flesh until her screams of pleasure echoed through the forest.
With all her research into both werewolf and natural wolf mating habits, never did she expect any sort of foreplay from her animal lover and a small part of her hoped that this was a sign of Remus’s influence and approval.
When every ounce of pleasure had been wrung out of her body, Hermione clamped her legs closed and pushed herself onto her knees. The sky above was lightening with the first hints of dawn and she knew if she and Moony did not seal the bond there may never be another chance. Looking over, she couldn't help but think that her wolf was looking rather smug with the wolfish grin and the way his tongue lulled out the side of his mouth. Then she noticed the bright red member peeking out of its furry sheath.
“You certainly seem ready to do this,” Hermione said nervously and Moony’s tail thumped against the ground as the wolf cock grew before her eyes.
Closing them, she took a deep steadying breath to prepare herself for what came next. A werewolf mating was more than just intercourse. Moony had to bite her to seal the mating bond and a werewolf bite during the full moon meant only one thing. Hermione knew out of everything she had done tonight, this was what Remus would hate her for the most. Not the tampering with his potion or porting him out of the house mid-transformation. Not sealing the bond behind his back. All those actions she had hoped he would forgive eventually.
No, what will likely damn Hermione in her mate's eyes was the act of using him to turn into a werewolf even though it was done with her full permission and knowledge.
The moment Hermione learned of their mating bond, she did what she did best and started researching anything she could. After many late nights, she decided that Remus would no longer suffer alone every month. So when they finally sat down to discuss how things would proceed between them, her first and only demand had been to be bitten. The older wizard had vehemently refused and continued to refuse at every turn but Hermione would not budge on the subject.
Another deep breath and Hermione turned around, positioning herself on all fours and arching her back, presenting her dripping core to her mate. She felt the soft brush of Moony’s fur as his big body covered hers and she held her breath when she felt his hot breath caressing her shoulder. Arching further, she pulled her hair to the side, baring her neck in silent offering as she felt the head of his cock press against the entrance of her cunt. Moony panted in her ears as his hips bucked back and forth, coating his length with her juices as he filled her inch by agonizing inch. Never did she imagine she could feel so full and yet there was still so much more of him for her to take.
Then her wolf hit a spot deep inside that made stars dance across her vision and her previously held breath hissed out as he started rutting atop her. Impossibly, Hermione could feel another climax fast approaching even as she felt his knot swell until she was bursting with it. Then her wolf clamped down on her shoulder, filling her with exquisite pain. The resulting orgasm was unlike anything she ever experienced before. It tore through her body, mind, and soul, fracturing her very essence. Hermione surrendered herself to the overwhelming sensation, fully accepting her mate’s body, bond, and curse as her own, all while keening her pleasure even as she was remade to something new. Something she was always meant to be.
Remus’s mate.
Still, Moony’s knot swelled deep inside her until Hermione was sure she would break. Then she felt something warm coat her insides and her wolf stilled. The pleasure was replaced by exhaustion and she lowered her top half onto the forest floor, careful to not pull away from where she was still joined with her mate. Research stated it could take up to 30 minutes for the knot to soften, allowing them to separate.
Black clouds edged her vision and Hermione wasn't sure she would be awake that long. She felt Moony’s tongue start to bathe the aching spot on her shoulder and the rhythmic movement lulled her to sleep, even as a deep satisfaction settled into her bones at the realization that Remus would never be alone for the full moon again.
~.~
When Hermione woke up, the first thing she noticed was how stiff she felt. The second thing she was a set of strong arms wrapped around her waist, holding her firmly against a hard chest. The third thing she noticed was her companion was not snoring, which meant Remus was likely awake.
It was time to face the consequences of her actions.
“I don't regret anything I did last night,” Hermione breathed. The body pressed against her stiffened, confirming her suspicion that the older wizard was awake and she continued. “We both know I did what needed to be done. What should have been done months ago but I understand you have every right to be upset. So just tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10, how much trouble am I in?”
Remus didn't answer for a long while, each passing second marked by the steady circling of his thumb where it rested on her hip, winding her anxiety tighter until she was ready to explode. Right when she was about to break and demand some sort of response, her mate answered in a tone she couldn’t place. “It was at about 100 when I first woke up and realized where we were and what you did.”
Hermione held her breath, waiting for the accusations and the yelling to begin, only to gasp when Remus's lips ghosted over the brand-new bite mark on her neck. Then rough hands brushed over the bare skin of her abdomen. They moved north, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples until they were taut.
This was not the wake-up she expected this morning…
Hermione considered her mate’s previous statement even as he continued his ministrations and realized what stood out.
“You said ‘was 100 when you first woke up,’” she managed to pant out between moans. “What is the level now then?”
“Out of 1-10?” Remus purred against her ear and Hermione could only nod her head as one of his hands traveled south through the forest of curls at the apex of her thighs. “Three.”
Hermione spun in her mate’s arms, disbelieving it could be that low only to come face to face with the most contented yet aroused Remus she has ever seen in her life. It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen and it took every ounce of her self-control to not kiss him for fear it was all a dream.
“Only three?” she asked hesitantly.
“You've been asleep for a few hours now,” Remus said as he brought her fingers to his lips. “And after seething here for a while waiting for you to wake up, I started to realize that in all my years of transformation, I have never felt this good the morning after. Even when I had the marauders as my makeshift pack mates, it was never like this. There is no pain. No bone-deep exhaustion. I'm just a little sore and tired. This nothing a good nap couldn’t cure.”
Hermione pulled her hand away and slapped his shoulder. “See! I told you! All the research I showed you said that werewolf transformations with a mate are the least taxing on the body, even if they are human but especially if they are a werewolf too. It makes your inner wolf feel more secure and less likely to fight the shift back to human. I may not have transformed last night but Moony knows what he did so it must have had the same effect.”
Remus caught her hand again, “Cease with the violence, witch. I am trying to admit I was wrong. It's an unusual feeling for me.”
“Well seeing as you are now stuck with the brightest witch of our age as your mate, you better get used to the feeling then,” Hermione teased.
His hazel eyes flashed, first with delight then with something much hungrier. The look shot hot desire through Hermione's body and she rolled into her back, opening her legs as Remus settled between them. They both groaned as he slid into her cunt with one sure stroke.
“Forever,” he panted against her mark.
Hermione yanked at Remus's hair, pulling his face up until brown eyes met hazel.
“Forever,” she swore before she caught his lips in the first of many kisses that would span the course of their long lives together.