Alpha of Alphas

A Squeaky Teddy Bear

Hermione could feel Harry's will pressing on her like a leash as she remained focused on the laser bright gaze of Mikhail Morozov. She kept her eyes away from the cute fluffy paws that wiggled in the air in front of Morozov or else she wouldn't be able to stop from trying to shove Harry out of the way. It had maybe been a bit conceited of her to think that she would handle the impulses and aggressiveness more easily than Harry, who had always had a temper.

She wanted to jump forward and snatch Elara away from Morozov, but Harry wanted her behind him and it took quite a bit of Hermione's willpower not to give in to that directive. Hermione had always been sensitive to Harry's moods. Keeping up with Harry had been hard as a kid — even more so as an adult. So Hermione considered herself something of an expert on Harry Potter. What he wanted, what he was trying to hide— most especially what he was feeling. Hermione could read Harry with a glance.

This feeling of his will pressing down on her though? The closest parallel Hermione could draw was the control of the imperious. Seemingly annoyed at her not giving in, Harry's fingers dug harshly into her forearm as he yanked her behind him forcefully.

Hermione would have to address this later with Harry, she understood a lot better now what exactly he felt with the wolf inside him but she wasn't putting up with this kind of bollocks behavior. Hermione had researched werewolf behaviors and symptoms for almost a decade — it had been one of her main priorities when she had worked at the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Alpha wolves in her research were typically extremely protective of their wives and others under their care. Harry had always had a thing for saving people and keeping people he cared about safe. He was probably going to be completely unmanageable now. Shit.

Just because Hermione had willingly accepted Harry's bite knowing she was going to become a werewolf didn't mean she was agreeing to him being her boss. She wasn't going to leave Harry alone on his journey and she wasn't going to meekly follow in his footsteps either, she was going to be standing right beside him like she always had since they were kids.

The other inside her felt frenzied, her whole body trembled with the need to jump past Harry regardless of his commands and attack the man holding the cub. That baby was hers.

Protect. The instinct whispered to her, and she could feel the intensity burning through her veins.

"Oh bloody hell, who touched Harry now, Hermione—oh." Ron arrived last seeing the standoff, but no one turned around to look at him. Ron wasn't a threat to her and Harry so their wolves weren't bothered by his presence behind them. While the wolves on the other side had judged Ron as less of a threat than Hermione and Harry and ignored his presence behind them.

The leader's gaze didn't waver from Harry's. "I have this proposal for you, Harry Potter. You will listen, yes?" He shook his hand a little and the cub whimpered, her paws clawing the air.

"Hermione," Harry said in a low warning tone, as Hermione pushed with more force against his hold, angry at how Elara was being treated. Mikhail Morozov didn't realize that Harry would just kill him. Hermione would lock in Morozov a bug jar for months. Really what was more compassionate? And now that Harry had amped Hermione's aggression up with his bite, who knows what fun punishments she might dream up?

Too bad Harry couldn't risk an all-out brawl even though he was fairly confident they could take them. The wolves in front of him except for Mikhail were significantly weaker than him– weaker than Hermione. But Harry couldn't risk the cub might be injured if a fight broke out and he didn't want Hermione touched either and there was no way he could keep her from engaging if a fight started.