Instincts

Some Truth

Hermione stood motionless, trying to sort out everything she was feeling as the werewolf stood calmly in front of her. He was quiet and still now; seemingly content. Unfortunately, the moment, whatever kind of respite it was, did not last long.

The witch willed her body to stiffen as Fenrir moved toward her once again. He was so close now. She could feel the heat radiating from his lips. Her heart began to pound, but to her horror, she realized that it was not from fear, but from anticipation. What kind of spell is this? It was not like any kind of love potion she had heard of before. It had to be some kind of magic. Greyback may have been deluded, but he was a powerful wizard, there was no denying that. He was crazy; steeped so far into his own lies that he was willing to take them into his own hands to make them a reality. She blatantly ignored the part of her mind that told her that he could be telling the truth; the same part that told her he was not exactly bad looking. A ridiculous thought.

Hermione's mind went blank as the heat from the werewolf's lips brushed hers. An unwelcome feeling coursed through her; not fear or disgust, she would have welcomed either of those; but of excitement. He was going to kiss her. Her mind practically buzzed with exhilaration for an instant after his lips met hers with a soft pressure. Then, the instant was over; her thoughts managed to catch up with her body and she reacted without thought to consequences. She just wanted him to stop touching her. She bit down as hard as she could on the werewolf's lower lip.

"Stop it!" she screamed. "Whatever you are doing to my head! Please. Please stop." She clutched her head in her hands, confused and sobbing. She did not see the enraged look in the werewolf's eyes as he wiped the blood from his wound off of his face.

Fenrir's loud growl broke her out of her own head. She did not bother to hide the tears that poured from her eyes as she met his. Her heart pounded in her chest, he was going to kill her. Her brain registered the sound of cracking bone, but she did not believe what was happening before her. She watched in horror as the werewolf's jaw extended, his teeth growing longer and sharper.

Then he spoke, his voice no longer human. If a wolf could speak, Hermione imagined it would make a very similar sound. It was a growl that formed words. She was not sure when the growl ended and speech began.

"You will respect me, mate," he spat, blood dripping from his lips as he pushed her roughly against the wall. "You will learn your place."

She knew now that he had been telling the truth; partly at any rate. He was very different from Lupin; from anything she had ever even heard of. What he was doing was not possible; but there it was, right in front of her eyes.

"My place?!" she shouted at him, "I am not some floozy that can be ordered around! I will not be subservient to anyone! Especially not you. There's no such thing as mates! You are just like the rest of us, except you are mad!"

His snarl of rage silenced her ranting and she shrunk away from him.

"Do I look human, mate?"

"N-No." Hermione stammered, trembling.

"What makes you think I will act human?"

She knew he would be angry with her answer, but she was angry as well; and if he hadn't killed her yet, perhaps he really was not going to. "Remus."

The werewolf snorted. "He refuses to even claim his mate. He clings to humanity though it will eventually kill him. A sentiment I do not share."

Fenrir snarled. He wanted to claim her now; to clamp his jaws around her the nape of her neck and mix his scent with hers. He wanted to mark her so that no one else would touch her, but something told him not to. He had to be patient with her. Licking his mostly healed lip, he buried his nose in her hair once more. Her neck was so close, it was so tempting to just sink his teeth into her shoulder and be done with it. He settled for planting a kiss on the nape of her neck.