Shifted

Icy

For the first time since Hermione landed on the shores of Shell Cottage, Lupin seemed to take mercy on her. When she'd come down the stairs, sputtering and flustered, he'd shot her a pitying glare and ascended the stairs himself.

When he came down an hour later, Hermione was four heavy pulls of firewhiskey straight from the bottle deep and her nerves were just as frayed as her now fading sobriety. She had just been about to unscrew the cap for a fifth when she heard footfalls. Heavy. Announcing their presence. She shot up on his approach, tensing when she spotted Malfoy trailing behind him.

Lupin threw something at her and she caught it with her free hand. She brought it to her face and stared blankly.

"A set of keys for the cabin you'll be going to." Lupin snatched the bottle out of her hand and reached for two glasses. "Can't be housing Death Eaters here, for obvious reasons." He handed Malfoy a heavy pour and drank deeply from his own cup. Hermione stared on with her mouth hanging wide.

"Am I missing something here?" she asked, louder than needed, as the other two boys sat on opposite sides of the table, completely unaffected.

Lupin raised his head from where it hung with his elbows on his knees. "You asked me to help Malfoy. This is what we came up with."

"I'm sorry, was I supposed to be down here preparing dinner while the big boys made plans on my behalf?"

"Wouldn't eat anything you cooked even if we are bonded," Malfoy muttered.

She pointed a finger at him. "You, shut up." She rounded back on Lupin. "I'm supposed to be getting back into the field."

"You're too unstable—"

"Unstable? I was getting along fine without you and if it wasn't for this— this—" she gestured wildly to Malfoy. "— I had him! He would be dead if this wolf wasn't so deluded—"

Lupin sprang up, stepping closer and pointing an accusatory finger at her. "You've been running on pure adrenaline since you were bitten and had anyone higher up than Fred Weasley been informed then you would have been immediately removed."

"No one knew because there was no one around." Hermione raked her fingers through her hair, yanking angrily at her curls. She was dizzy, the alcohol buzzing through her veins and anger burning in her chest. "We've been sent on these wild goose chases, with no way to reach out and contact if something happens—"

"This is not up for discussion!" Lupin towered over her suddenly and Hermione cut off, fear slicing through her like a knife through hot butter as his voice deepened into something inhuman. There was only the sound of her ragged breaths as Lupin pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to gain some control back. After a moment, he spoke, softer this time. More like the man she remembered.

"Werewolves do not get along. If you stay here, we'll continue to argue like this until one of us inevitably resorts to violence. Once that happens, I'm not sure we'd be able to control ourselves until the other was dead." He shut his eyes and turned away.

"I don't want to stay here," she whispered, heart rate calming. "I want to fight."

Lupin spun around, a look of compassion and understanding filling his eyes. "You fought! You fought the hardest battle and won, don't you see?" He grabbed her by the elbows and squeezed lightly. "With Malfoy here, connected to you, we have everything we need to take down the Death Eaters."

Hermione's brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to voice her confusion, but Lupin talked over her.

"I know you don't understand this bond yet, but just as you can't kill him, he will not be able to resist the compulsion to follow you and keep you safe." He leaned back slightly. "Eventually, the secrets he's keeping will come out. And we'll be ready."