Perfection

Everything changes

Everything falls apart

Can't stop to feel myself losing control

But deep in my senses I know

How stupid could I be?

A simpleton can see

That you're no good for me

But you're the only one I see

--Sarah McLachlan, Stupid

Perfection

Chapter 16: Stupid

Ginny was leaning against the train window with her eyes closed, vaguely aware of the fact it was pulling out of the station, when Draco found her. He needed to tell her, now, before this went a step further.

"Did you get my messages?"

She nodded, not turning her head.

She knows, he thought. Merlin, help me, somehow she knows.

Out loud, he said, "Is everything all right?" just in case.

She tried to nod, turning to face him, then paused and he could see her eyes were filling with tears.

Just say it, his mind screamed at him.

Trying to smile, she replied, "I don't know. That's the problem. If I did, then I'd be able to handle it, I think."

"Listen, Gin," murmured, sitting beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders. "It'll be all right, I promise."

"No." She shook her head emphatically. "I was bit. By Lupin. You know what that means."

His heart nearly stopped for a moment, but the revulsion she seemed to expect didn't come. "And?" he prompted.

"No one knows if... if I was infected. We won't know until I transform, and that could be in a few weeks, it could be a few years."

She was shaking against him, and he was helpless to stop it. Stroking her hair, he tried to comfort her, painfully aware how miserably he was failing. He couldn't tell her. Not now, when she was so upset. She needed him.

Finally, he asked the burning question. "How could this happen? I thought that there was a potion that could prevent this..."

She closed her eyes again, trying to stop the tears. "There is, and he drank it. It's useless for him now. His system's used to it."

They sat in silence for a moment as Draco tried to digest this. He didn't know what to say or do, but he wouldn't pull away. No matter what his instinct screamed at him, she was still Ginny first and foremost--not some creature. And he was still Draco Malfoy, first-class bastard and too bloody scared to let her know.

*

The Welcoming Feast was no different from usual, except this year Hermione found her attention divided between the silent red-head across from her and Severus, who seemed to be bored mindless.

"Eat something," she urged Ginny, considering the irony of the statement with a touch of bitterness.

The other girl only shook her head in refusal and left the table early, pleading a headache and leaving Hermione free to ogle. Finally, his gaze met hers and he signaled that they should leave, something she agreed to readily. Quidditch was the main conversation topic, and she really couldn't care less about it. They met outside by the entrance, and he smiled slightly as he fingered her gleaming Head Girl badge.

"Congratulations," he told her for about the twentieth time that day.

"Oh, shut up, you knew I'd get it," she replied with a laugh.

They pushed their way through the doors, hands joining almost unconsciously.

"Thank goodness for that," she added brightly. "One more year in a room with Parvati and Lavender and I think I would have jumped out of the window. I've missed having a room to myself."

She paused briefly, wondering if he would think she was implying something and glancing sideways to see his reaction. He appeared to have missed any innuendo, intentional or not, but it always was difficult to tell what he was thinking. She asked herself if she would mind, should he take it as an invitation, hoping there was no way for him to read her mind. The idea was a good deal better than unpleasant.

And why not? she speculated. It had almost happened once this summer, in Leipzig, and would have had it not been for the interruption. There had been a few other moments where they had started down that path, only to turn back when one of them regained their senses.

They paused when the reached the lake, looking over the dark, glossy surface in companionable silence.

"I'm going to miss working on the potion this year," she said finally.

He tilted his head to look at her. "It's not the only potion in the world, you know."

She sighed. "But to have reached my academic peak at the age of not quite seventeen is something of a let-down."

He laughed, a deep rumble that she felt as much as heard. "You have a long time before you can say that. We live much longer than muggles."

She didn't reply, only drew closer, the unspoken unless hanging between them.

*

Classes started up, and Ginny threw herself into her work with a never-before experienced fervor--anything to keep herself from dwelling on the unavoidable. Draco didn't abandon her, which was more than a slight relief, but the nasty voice in her head would sometimes whisper that if her fears turned out to be founded, he would be the first one to be running. During the day, when they were sitting together on the lawn this seemed unlikely, but her fears were difficult to curb late at night, when insomnia kicked in. Her nightmares, which had seemingly disappeared, were returning with increasing frequency and intensity, haunting her often several times in one night.

Harry, at least, was leaving her alone now. Maybe he was repulsed by the thought of her, maybe he had simply given up or was biding his time--she had no way of knowing. What energy she didn't focus on school, she poured into her own defense, preparing herself both mentally and physically for the attack that she wasn't even sure was coming. She would be ready.

*

"Happy birthday."

She clinked her glass against Severus's, glad that she had refused most of the alcohol offered to her in the Gryffindor common room before her escape because she would be more than slightly tipsy by now. She downed the contents in a split second, laughing at his expression.

"I'm not going to get drunk off of one glass of wine," she informed him. "And I'm seventeen now. As far as I know, it's legal. Pretty much anything is." She raised an eyebrow in suggestion, before adding, "Feel free to shag me."

"Are you sure you're all right to have that?" he asked, prying the glass from her hands.

"Of course I am," she insisted, tugging back.

"Because I don't want you to pass out before I give you your present."

She let go of the glass, smiling expectantly as he handed over a small, neatly wrapped package. She tore it open with impatience, reserving no respect for the paper, and gasped at the contents, not liking to think about the time and money it must have taken to get his hands on this.

"Thanks," she said, touched enough to overcome her half-drunken state. She reached across and hugged him, lingering there a moment to fully enjoy the scent of his aftershave.

When he didn't let go, she began nuzzling at his neck, nipping him on the throat and giggling when he jumped. He returned the favour, working his way up to her mouth and helping her out of her school uniform, until all she was left in was her skirt and a bra, which was removed without much further ado, though she was still wearing the vial containing the Golden Shield around her neck. It hadn't left that spot since their unexpected departure of Leipzig in July.

She was about to protest that he should take something off too, but he silenced her and drew back, running his hands down her ribcage deftly. Her skirt was halfway off when a knock on the door interrupted.

Severus swore under his breath, but before either of them could make a further reaction, it swung open, revealing Lucius Malfoy, who was tapping his cane impatiently.

"Severus, how nice," he greeted them. "I have some urgent business, if you don't mind."

Severus slid off of Hermione and she sat up, folding her arms across her chest protectively.

"Is your toy able to keep her mouth shut, or will she have to leave?" the elder Malfoy inquired.

"If she knows what's good for her," came the reply.

Hermione felt a remark on the tip of her tongue regarding the tackiness of pimp canes, but bit it back, feeling fear encompass her. She wasn't entirely sure that she liked being called a toy.

"I have to speak with my son. Where is he?"

"Have you looked in the Slytherin common room?"

"I'm not a complete imbecile, Severus. Of course I have."

"The library, then," Severus snapped impatiently. "Couldn't this wait for a letter?"

Lucius appraised the two on the couch. "You forget what tonight is, don't you? My business is not only with Draco. The Dark Lord wishes me to extend a more personal invitation to you this time around. I'm not sure that it extends to her, but generally the more mudbloods the merrier, isn't that right?"

Severus was backed into a corner, Hermione realized. She couldn't see any way for them both to get out of this alive.

"I suppose that we should track down your offspring then," he replied acidly. "Put something on," he barked at Hermione, confusing her momentarily. She hadn't heard that tone directed at her for months now.

As she yanked her clothing back on, it dawned on her that it was a part of his act, and he was hoping she would understand and play along. Head bowed, she followed the two men into the corridor, mind racing nearly as fast as her heart.

*

"Thanks for walking with me," Ginny said, giving Draco a quick hug.

"Do you want me to stay for a bit?"

She glanced warily at the infirmary door and shook her head. "There's not much time left. I can last the night fine."

"If anything happens, will you..."

"I'll let you know," she cut him off, suddenly cold.

Panic set in and she tried to keep her breathing steady by telling herself that he wasn't just hanging around to see what happened. Why would he bother?

Calm, she reminded herself. Just remember to breathe.

She studied Draco's expression, making no motion to enter the infirmary, and watched it tense.

"Ah, Draco."

Ginny closed her eyes, not wanting to look at Lucius Malfoy.

"There has been a change in plan."

What plan?

"I still have a month!" Draco protested.

Ginny opened her eyes and stared at him, blinking back confusion.

"Not any more," the elder Malfoy informed him. "I see you've at least saved us the trouble of gathering the girl."

It couldn't be what she was thinking. He wouldn't. Not Draco.

She watched his expression transform from confusion to something cold and hard, something that made her shudder.

Draco grabbed her arm roughly and shoved her in the direction of his father, leaving Ginny staring up into gray eyes devoid of anything.

"Miss Weasley," he greeted her, tracing the outline of her face with a finger. "There is someone who is most anxious to speak with you."

She closed her eyes against the flashback, but it came to her anyway. The eyes staring her down now belonged to a boy her own age, sixteen yet without any trace of youth. His mouth curved upwards dangerously as he lowered it to her ear, whispering...

Cutting it off before she could become lost in the memory, she glanced past Malfoy to see Snape standing before Hermione, his face unyielding. For a moment, she felt comforted, but the way that the other girl looked at her made the feeling disappear. Both of them had been double-crossed. Or perhaps Hermione had been a part of it as well.

Ginny reassured herself with the knowledge that she, at least, would not abandon her principles. But as they marched her down the hall, her outlook became increasingly bleak.

*

Hermione wasn't sure how, but one way or another managed to keep her face as hard and expressionless as any seasoned Death Eater's. Thankfully no one was paying any attention to her--their eyes were all trained on little Virginia Weasley, who was being led across the clearing of trees in the Forbidden Forest by Lucius and Draco Malfoy towards Voldemort.

Hermione, however, couldn't take her eyes off of the dark wizard. His appearance was more than slightly creepy and unnatural, granted, with the slanted red eyes and scaly skin, but it was the way he held himself that frightened her more, the utter cruelty that had written itself into lines on his face.

Each Malfoy grabbed an arm and forced Ginny to her knees, but before either could react, she had broken the grip on her arm and swung out a punch at Draco, knocking him back. Hermione felt compelled to do something, but instinct made her stand still as masked men collapsed onto the red head as the blonde boy recovered his balance.

Voldemort said a few words that Hermione couldn't hear and smiled--his humour was nearly as sickening as his perversity.

Ginny's expression was one of fury and defeat, as the Dark Lord drew near her, the look of one who knew that they had lost, but wasn't prepared to give up quite yet. And subtly, so that only someone watching the drama unfold as closely as Hermione was, would notice, that look turned to triumph.

*

Breathe, Ginny ordered herself. He can't do anything to you that he hasn't done before...

It was the end. She would loose. She accepted it. But she wasn't going to give up without giving them resistance. She still had her wand--for being the living, breathing definition of evil, Voldemort and his minions didn't seem all that bright--but she didn't want to use it until necessary. As soon as she attempted to, she would lose it. But if she could save it until the last possible moment, then she might still have a fighting chance...

There was something else there, something she was forgetting, a gut feeling that was trying to tell her something. She felt as though her mind was splitting in two. One part was focused on the here and now, sweating, afraid, while the other--the other was more than ready to attack, it was screaming for it. She couldn't stand here and just take what they threw at her; she had to give them a little back.

She realized where the second voice was coming from, and instantly felt herself grow afraid. She didn't want to fight two battles at the same time, didn't want to focus on remaining human...

Don't fight it, reason told her. There's no point, not now. They won't be expecting this, of all things. Maybe then you'll make it out of here alive.

Ginny let down the barrier she had built in her mind, letting the part of her that was wolf spill into what was human and it let it take control.

The last thing she was aware of was Draco screaming, "Avada kedavra!" and a burst of green light.

*

All hell had broken loose. Severus glanced away from Hermione and at the chaos that had erupted upon the Weasley girl's transformation. He aimed some hexes at the nearby Death Eaters, but there was too much confusion for any real fighting to occur.

Hermione screamed his name--he looked in time to see her down a sip from her vial of potion and rip it off her neck before it came flying at him. He caught it in his left hand and had unstoppered it, when someone crashed headlong into him, causing him to tumble down. As if in slow motion he watched the vial fall, smashing on the ground. Before he could react, someone cast the killing curse on him, but it was smothered in a blast of golden light that illuminated the entire clearing.

For a moment he lay there, stunned, but before there was a chance to see whether or not luck would be on his side a second time, he was on his feet, Stunning as many people as he possibly could on his way over to Hermione.

He was vaguely aware of Ginny bounding away into the darkness of the forest, but she had stopped being the main priority. Draco was fighting his father inside a ring of figures, the Dark Lord among them, and to all appearances losing ground, while Hermione tried to prevent anyone from intervening.

Severus found himself impressed with her insight--she could finish off Lucius Malfoy now, but she realized that Draco wouldn't thank her for it and it would mean that their concentration would shift back to themselves.

Once he reached her, she shrieked, voice breaking, "Get Draco out of there! He'll listen to you!"

He nodded as they covered each other. This time, running was going to be the only way.

*

As another curse hit against his ever-weakening defense system, Draco asked himself how he had let things get this far out of hand. He could have told Ginny. He could have told her anytime between last Christmas and now, before it had come to this.

She would have despised him, but that didn't matter to him now. None of this would have happened.

His father might have disowned him, but by the looks of things right now, that might still happen--if he survived.

He was vaguely aware of someone grabbing hold of his neck, but before he could fight them off, he felt himself dissolve and a moment later he, along with whoever had grabbed him were standing outside the main doors of Hogwarts.

"I think it's safe to say," came the voice of Hermione Granger from behind him, "that we are royally screwed."

*

It was well into the night, when Hermione and Severus returned to his chambers. She had refused a trip to the infirmary staunchly, but her resolve wavered at the thought of spending the night alone in the head girl's room. Severus was clearly furious and not talking, but she knew it was directed at Draco, not her--not to mention that she was exhausted beyond caring.

When he slumped into his armchair, Hermione felt a wash of something--not pity, but close--wash over her. Perhaps it was exhaustion that made her do it--she would never be quite sure--but instead of sitting in another chair, she settled herself on his lap and began to caress his shoulders.

"Merlin," he moaned. "Don't do this to me now."

Rather than protest, she stopped, resting her head against him, feeling the way his breath was coming in ragged gulps.

Was that her doing?

It was right about then that Hermione completely quit caring about any social barriers that were still between them. She wanted, more than anything, to know that everything around her was real, that the thoughts flooding her mind weren't something her mind had created for comfort.

It began with her hand creeping up him and massaging his neck where she knew it was the tensest, then let her mind stop thinking as their mouths mashed into each other and they began tearing at one another, releasing something more animalistic than she had believed herself capable of.

Severus held back momentarily, but it was obvious that this confirmation of reality was what he needed too. Before they went over the edge, he cast a spell against pregnancy and led her into his bedroom, leaving behind a trail of clothing. This time, as she fell back onto his bed, sinking into the sheets and arching her back up into him as he followed, there were no interruptions from unwanted visitors.

When he rolled off of her, still breathing hard and sweating, she curled up against him, smiling to herself as she slipped an arm around him. He had become everything now--teacher, mentor, friend, and finally--lover. She then allowed her eyes to close and promptly fell asleep. They would need all of the rest they could get when recounting the night's events to Dumbledore.

*

Ginny stirred as the rays of sunlight hit her and opened her eyes, moving stiff joints gradually and trying to adjust to the strange feeling of her human limbs. The grass she was lying on was prickly and uncomfortable, not the soft bed of the night before, and her head was pounding nearly as bad as the time in fourth year when she and a few friends had managed to smuggle a bottle of Odgen's Firewhiskey out of Hogsmeade...

She tried to remember the events after her transformation, but it only came to her in a string of senses--Merlin, was that a bit of rabbit caught between her teeth?

A shudder ran through her as she examined the pink, fleshy remnants of what appeared to be last night's dinner and clutched at her stomach. It was then that she realized her clothing was gone, her wand with it.

Panic overtook revulsion as she pondered how she was going to make it back into Hogwarts stark naked, mixed with surprise at the realization that a part of her--the part that was wolf--didn't want to go back at all. It would mean never having to look at Draco again and remember how gullible--how utterly stupid--she had been. She should have known that it had nothing to do with her--he was a Malfoy and she was a Weasley and that was the end of that. But a tiny, traitorous voice was reminding her of the way he had looked at her when his father had shown up--a look of desperation and despair...

She shook her head and stood up. She would have to go back, Draco Malfoy or no Draco Malfoy. She couldn't survive off of a couple rabbits every full moon--she would have to go back and search for her clothes. Standing to leave, she realized that she didn't know the way back to the clearing, let alone where the school was. Only the wolf part of her knew where the hell she was, and that was useless, unless...

No one had ever properly explained what being a werewolf meant to her, assuming that she didn't want to think about the consequences until she had to. She knew that every full moon she had no choice in the transformation, but not whether she could transform whenever she wanted. The only other werewolf she knew was Lupin, and Ginny was certain that he had never wanted the transformation in his life.

Sincerely wishing that she had paid more attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts and strongly suspecting that the chance was a slim one, she settled cross-legged back on the ground, squeezing her eyes shut tight and waiting.

*

Hermione snuggled closer to the warmth next to her, keeping her eyes closed and willing the night to never end. Severus's arm snaked around her, making her smile in her half-awake state, and she rolled over, struggling slightly with the tangled sheets, so that they were facing one another.

"Morning," he murmured in her ear.

"Morning," she replied, burying her nose in his chest and inhaling his scent.

"Any regrets?" he inquired after a pause.

She shook her head emphatically in a no and opened her eyes, grinning up at him and making him moan.

"Don't look at me like that..."

"Why?" she asked, blinking innocently and allowing her hand to trail down his side.

"Merlin help me, I've created a monster," he growled, pulling her in to him and claiming her mouth.

"Damn right," she replied once they broke up for air, only to continue more insistently as he rolled on top of her, shoving the blankets aside.

His weight on top of her was by no means bone crushing, but it still seemed to shove all of the air from her lungs. Or maybe it had nothing to do with mass at all. She stared up at him, keeping eye contact as long as she could stand it, but eventually closed her eyes, allowing her mind to slide away from her.

*

Ginny opened her eyes, tears of frustration gathering in the corners of them. What felt like hours had passed and she was no closer now to transformation now than she had been at the beginning. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't bring to life the memories of the wind as she bounded through the trees, the freedom that her strength lent her.

Something rustled in the underbrush, and she jerked, feeling the wolf rise up inside of her and give her the absurd urge to sniff the wind. Relief rushed through her as she tried to grasp the other part of her mind and use the physical aspect of it while keeping her mind human.

After several minutes of sniffing at the wind, she felt her senses grow more acute and her limbs shift and reform. Ears perking up, she curiously examined the area, taking in the details of the forest, nose and ears making up for her poor eyesight.

Focus, human reminded wolf. Where did we go?

Smelling out the trail of the previous night, she wove between the trees in the direction she had come.

*

Dumbledore stared across the table at them, face more serious than Hermione had ever seen it. He didn't ask what they had been doing when Lucius Malfoy had interrupted them, which was a relief, but Hermione had a feeling that he already knew.

"And where is Miss Weasley now?"

Hermione and Severus exchanged guilty looks. Neither of them had considered tracking her last night--the focus had been entirely on making it out of the forest alive.

"I see," the headmaster speculated. "Well, thank you for coming to me and if you will excuse me, I will now write to Molly Weasley to inform her of the night's events. Severus, if you will be so kind as to bring the young Mr. Malfoy to my office, I would like to speak with him." He shook his head sadly and paused for a beat before continuing. "These are troubling times and I am sorry that you should be living in them. We must take what happiness from them that we can."

Hermione jerked her head up, looking surprised as she shot a sideways glance at Severus. He nodded at her with a faint twitching of his lips. In his roundabout way, it seemed that Dumbledore had just given them his approval.

Mutely, the two exited his quarters and walked side by side down the corridors, to much speculation of the early rising student body, until they neared the Slytherin Common Room.

"Meet me in the dungeons," he muttered to her through the side of his mouth. "I believe we have some investigating that is long overdue."

She nodded and left him to deal with Draco, jogging down flights of stairs with an odd mixture of elation and panic filling her.

*

The process was a slow and tedious one. Ginny continuously had to battle her wolf instincts, causing her to lose her tentative grip on the shape and start over again from scratch. As time wore on, however, it became easier for her to make the change and when she finally reached the clearing, was barely recognizable in the daylight, she felt as though she had been forced through a blender--or hit with a few rounds of Cruciatus at best.

Luckily for her, her clothing and wand had been left forgotten on the forest floor, half buried in dead leaves. There were signs of a scuffle--more than a slight scuffle--leaving Ginny to wonder what had gone on after her... departure.

Making a mental note to ask about it, she yanked on her more than tattered robes and snatched up her wand, enspelling it to point her in the right direction.

*

Agrippa stirred some sugar into her coffee, grateful that she had had the foresight to work today, even though a day off was long overdue. The tension in the house was more than palpable and the thought of spending more time in it than necessary was not entirely pleasant. Everyone seemed to be waiting for news, but unwilling to say anything about it.

When an owl finally flew in, dropping a letter on the table, Mrs. Weasley--or Molly, as she insisted on being called--snatched it up so quickly that it almost didn't land. The rest of the table froze as the letter was torn open and read frantically. The redheaded woman let out one brief sob before composing herself.

"Well?" her husband inquired, resting a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

"It's happened. She transformed."

The effect of this pronouncement on the others at the table was more than visible--Mr. Weasley dropped his cup, several of the people who came and went tried to look comforting, and the one other constant, Remus Lupin, gave a quick apology and left the table. She couldn't help but notice his stiff limp and weakness as he did so.

She had some idea what was going on, but not much. Lupin was a werewolf, she had finally been told that night when the little Weasley girl was attacked. It was then carefully explained that he was only dangerous once a month--she would do well to remember that. But the amount that she didn't know about this world was alarming. Even though she didn't have to learn the actual magic, learning about it was complicated enough, especially with all the wizard slang they took for granted that she would know.

Occasionally, she would wonder whether her home was safe yet, but they would always shake there heads at that and tell her that in times like these, nowhere was safe. She didn't understand what they meant by this--there were mentions of some man who was never named and attacks on people and places that she had never heard of. She didn't want to ask and appear ignorant and they seemed to assume that she did know, so her only information came from snippets of conversations and a hell of a lot of guesswork. She hated that, more than she had hated anything in her life--even Steve.

With a grim smile, she downed the rest of her coffee and went upstairs to get ready for work.

*

Remus leaned against the attic wall, chest heaving as he dried to drown the panic. Not his fault, they told him, over and over. Not his fault. When he knew the truth--it bloody well was. And now Ginny, who had come to him asking for help--help, dammit, not this--had transformed.

How in hell was that not his fault?

He sighed, tired of going in hopeless circles around himself. It wasn't his fault. Not entirely. He had to believe that. But the blame did rest on a part of him--the wolf was a part of him, whether he liked it or not.

That thought filled him with a deep self-loathing, the urge to cut that half out of him--but it didn't work, Merlin knew that he had tried.

Well, as long as he was in the mood for angst, he thought bitterly, why not think about Sirius. Sirius, who was dead. Sirius, who he had spent the whole seven years at Hogwarts admiring and following, while the rest of the male population of the school had been doing the same to Lily Evans--with the possible exception of one or two Slytherins.

Of course, Sirius had not known then--he had never really known the extent of it. Even after the Order had taken up residence at 12 Grimmauld Place and they're... whatever it had been--romance wasn't quite the word--had begun, Remus had been careful that he didn't know the depth of his feelings.

He recalled lying awake, Sirius's arm draped over his side, the scent of sweat wafting into his nose as he wondered, night after night, if the other man viewed him only as an escape. But there were other memories too. That one night when Sirius had lost his temper, two years ago now, and one thing led to another until they were in bed. That had been Remus's first real intimate experience with anyone, the first time there had been anything for him beyond the physical--he had learned quite quickly that what girls were after wasn't him, it was the wolf and the best thing to do was to satisfy their curiosity and send them on their way. After that, they had been together almost every night and on the nights when he transformed, Sirius would change into his other form and they would... Well, needless to say, it was the only time he had ever enjoyed being like that.

A few nights before his death, Sirius had snaked an arm around him and whispered I love you. Remus had pretended to be asleep because he didn't want to answer, because a part of him couldn't bring himself to believe it. In spite of the part that had wanted to.

Merlin. Remus rubbed his face with his palms, heaving a loud sigh. How had he gotten on this track? He should be concerned about Ginny, not whether or not a dead man had loved him. Ginny, dammit.

And then his mind returned to where it had begun.

*

They worked in uncomfortable silence, copying down possible variables to be tested and details to be further researched. Severus felt unsure--was her lack of comment due to disappointment, did she want him to say something first, or was she only concentrating? The question was almost enough to make him bite his nails.

But then she glanced up for a second, sending a little grin his way and he felt his stomach soar momentarily. Until it faded and she went back to work.

Concentrate, he ordered himself. She's focusing fine--you're the one who's acting like a hormonal teenager.

Wasn't that a thought at the age of thirty-nine?

*

Agrippa drummed her fingers absently on the elevator wall, flicking her gaze every so often over to the man who was guarding her. She finally understood what was going on and it made her sick to her stomach.

They had taken her aside shortly after breakfast that morning and detailed it to her carefully--shocked, at first, that she didn't know. They explained that because of her daughter, she might soon become a target and, unless she planned on quitting work entirely, some precautions would be necessary. Like this one.

As she stepped onto her floor, he followed behind closely--she could sense his presence--but not too closely, so that unless it was known that he was following her, no one would be able to tell.

*

"So I'm really quite useless, aren't I?" Draco drawled with his trademark sneer, although this time it was directed more at himself. "Neither side wants me--I've already betrayed them both."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm not here to judge. I only wanted to impress upon you the serious nature of your actions."

The twinkle was gone and he looked so old, so very old. Draco felt sick to his stomach, but forced himself to continue meeting the piercing blue gaze.

"You think that I don't already know?" He laughed bitterly at this. Someone contact the press--the man wasn't omniscient after all.

Dumbledore smiled tiredly at this, but it was without humour. "The other thing," he began in a voice that demanded no interruptions, "is that Miss Weasley has gone missing. She did not return last night, nor has she been seen since."

His heart constricted, but he didn't let the older man see that.

"The possibility exists, of course, that she is merely lost but under the present circumstances, that hardly seems likely. Most of the staff members are, of course, out looking--"

Mid-sentence, Flitwick burst into the office dragging with him a furious-looking Ginny, who took one look at the blonde boy sitting in the office before glancing away haughtily. Draco knew better than to open his mouth.

"Miss Weasley," Dumbledore greeted her, with no trace of his former displeasure.

Her mouth twitched unpleasantly in reply. There was an awkward silence that lasted a few minutes before it was broken.

"You are dismissed, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco stood to go, not missing the venom being directed at him from Ginny's gaze as he did so.

*

She finally found Hermione hunched over piles of books from the restricted section, copying down notes in her meticulous hand. Ginny might have known that she would be in the library.

"Hey," she greeted the back of the bushy head.

Hermione grunted in response, continuing on with her work until she realized who it was.

"Ginny!" she exclaimed, spinning around, relief scrawled across her features. "I was so worried!"

"Listen," Ginny said, sitting down opposite her, "I want you to tell me everything you know about werewolves."

Luckily, Hermione didn't argue. As she reeled off information that sounded like it was being quoted straight out of a textbook, Ginny felt her stomach drop out. It didn't sound like what had happened to her at all. If Hermione was right, werewolves could only transform on the full moon and never at will, which meant that something wasn't quite right...

Shit.

"I'd offer to look into it a bit more, but I have to research something for Sev--Professor Snape."

Ginny didn't miss the slip-up, but she held her tongue. "No, that's all right," she replied, a little too quickly. "Thanks, it helped."

"Is everything all right?" Hermione asked, studying the redhead in concern.

"As right as it can be, I guess."

"Well, if you need help with anything, you know who to ask."

Hermione was already going back to her own world at that last comment and, not wanting to overstay her welcome, Ginny left, her head spinning.

What the hell was going on?

*

The next weekend, Ginny entered the hospital wing for what felt like the hundredth time that week. She was sick of blood tests. Her arm hurt like hell where Madam Pomfrey had jabbed the needle repeatedly and the thought of more made her want to hit something. Hard. Surprisingly, though, the bruises had been fading within almost hours after, making her wonder whether it was more due to the nurse's skill or the wolf.

This time, however, it was not only Madam Pomfrey waiting for her. After her initial shock, she could only thank Merlin that it wasn't more blood tests.

"Professor Lupin," she greeted him politely, sending an inquiring look at the nurse.

"Miss Weasley."

There was a moment of awkwardness where she stared him down, waiting for him to explain. She sincerely doubted that he would have come on his own--he was more likely to assume that she would never want anything to do with him again.

"Dumbledore thought that you might... need someone to talk to," he told her finally, breaking the silence.

Dumbledore. That explained a lot. She forced a smile and nodded her head encouragingly.

"I'm glad," she replied, meaning it--there weren't many other people that she could ask advice from.

Madam Pomfrey led them to her workroom mutely, where she held the door open and ushered them in.

"You can just leave when you're finished," she informed them as it clicked shut.

"So..." Ginny began after a moment, hoping that he would fill in the blanks.

"I didn't have a chance to apologize before you left--"

Like hell you didn't, she thought wryly. You were avoiding me.

"--but I want you to know that I truly am sorry for--for what happened."

"I know," she told him, with a bit of a rueful smile. "But what's done is done, I suppose."

They lapsed back into a painful silence--Ginny fidgeted, looking anywhere but at Lupin's face as she did so. Finally, he cleared his throat and tried to pick up the thread of conversation.

"So, how was the--er, the transformation?"

She shrugged, not wanting to tell him that a part of her had liked it--a part of her that she was trying very hard to ignore. "It didn't hurt or anything--I was sore the next few days though. And I kept finding bits of rabbit in my teeth."

The last part was meant as a joke, but instead of joining her in a short bark of laughter, he snapped to attention.

"Rabbit?"

"Yeah, why? Is there something wrong with the rabbits here?"

He shook his head slowly. "As far as I know the only prey for us is, well, humans."

She bit her lip. Yet another thing that had seemingly gone wrong. Damn.

He studied her without speaking for a moment, before asking, "Is there anything else strange that happened?"

Lying crossed her mind. Shaking her head seemed so appealing just then. If there was anything else abnormal about her, it would be better off not to know. Wouldn't it?

"Well," she began carefully. "There was something--but maybe I was just confused. I don't know. I didn't want to tell anyone, not even Madam Pomfrey, just in case I imagined things..."

He nodded encouragingly as she swallowed.

"See, the morning after--the morning after I first transformed, I woke up in the middle of the forest and I didn't know where I was and somehow--I don't know how, maybe I just wanted it badly enough--somehow, I changed again so that I could navigate. At first I thought that maybe I only had to change on the full moon, but if I wanted to, I could transform whenever I wanted. But I looked it up after--well, asked Hermione," she grinned sheepishly, "and she said that wasn't the case. I thought maybe you would..."

She faltered, seeing his bewildered expression.

"Have..." he tried, voice faltering. "Have you tried since then?"

Ginny studied her nails, suddenly afraid of his reaction, and nodded, feeling the heat rise up into her face. "I locked myself in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom so that I couldn't get at anyone and they couldn't get in. It's hard and I almost fainted after, but I did it."

He flinched visibly. "I don't know what caused it. Do you think you could do it right now, if I asked you?"

"Maybe, but what about---"

"I won't let you escape this room if you do. And don't worry about me. You can't do anything that's not already done."

She didn't miss the shadow that passed across his face, or the bitterness.

"I need to sit down," she told him. "It takes a while."

Lupin nodded grimly as she seated herself cross-legged on the floor and he settled himself into an armchair. Squeezing her eyes shut, she concentrated on moving inward, past layers of human thoughts and feelings, searching for the barrier in her mind that separated human from wolf.

*

"Stupefy!"

The gold light exploded, blinding him temporarily. As he blinked away light spots, Hermione's voice reached him.

"It's still holding. I doubt it will last forever though. Do you think it only lasts a certain time period, number of spells, or a combination of the two?"

He raised his wand again, aiming it in her direction. "There's only one way to find out."

She sighed audibly. "I really wish there was a better way to test this."

"So do I. Stupefy!"

Again the flash of light, but nothing else. After several more attempts, he lowered his wand again.

"All this is doing is wasting time," he sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "What we really need to test is its ability to repel the killing curse, and quite frankly that's a risk that I would rather not take."

Hermione nodded, leaning against their workbench and grimacing. "I'm all for animal rights, but if worse comes to worst, we could test on some nice fluffy rabbits or something--horrible as it is."

"Even if we did come to that, it wouldn't work," he reminded her. "In muggle science, the relationship might be close enough but definitely not with something as delicate as this."

She shook her head slowly. "As useful as this potion may turn out to be, I'm starting to regret the day I set my heart on being the fourth person to ever brew it..."

Severus laughed, albeit somewhat bitterly. "Don't I know it... Come, we've been at this long enough. I think a lunch break is in order."

He didn't miss the look of reluctance that crossed her face as she stood up and followed him to the door, but put it down to a disinclination to put on hold their research rather than the other, far less desirable alternative.

*

Remus felt a chill run through him as he watched the girl's features ripple into those of a wolf and back again. He had never watched a transformation, only been a part of it, and it filled him with a sick sense of fascination that made him shudder.

Ginny frowned in concentration and regained her grasp on the shape, this time shifting entirely. A sudden, irrational jolt of fear filled him as she rose off of her haunches and approached, sniffing the air curiously.

She can't do anything, not a damn thing, he reminded himself, sweating heavily.

Wolf eyes that were bright with an alien intelligence met human ones and reluctantly, almost, her tail began to wag.

*

The smells were the first sign that she had completed the transformation. Aromas far too tantalizing for her human nose to pick up filled the wolf with an overpowering curiosity to explore. As she stood, she sniffed at the man watching her and caught the scent of sweat. Fear.

She approached him cautiously, sorting through the smells until she knew which ones were his, and he flinched away. It was so faint that she only detected it because of the rustle of clothing that ensued.

Friend, the girl said. He won't hurt us.

The wolf studied him more closely, wondering why he didn't run in spite of the fear so strong that it was almost tangible.

Look at him. Show him that we recognize him and won't hurt him.

The wolf raised her head slowly and their eyes met. She sensed no aggression--he realised her dominance here. Inching forward so that her head rested on his lap, she wagged her tail to show that she accepted him.

Friend.

"Ginny?" he tried. "Can you hear me?"

Nod, the girl suggested. Like this.

She cocked her head in question.

It means you understand.

The motion was awkward and foreign, but the wolf did her best.

"Can you change back?"

Again, a nod as the wolf let the girl take control once again and faded into the background to observe.

*

Why did I go into dentistry? Agrippa asked herself, collapsing on the sofa and propping her feet up on the coffee table. I could've done anything--I could've been a lawyer, dammit, and never had to deal with bratty kids who don't realise that if they brush their teeth I won't have to give them a filling, but no, I had to be a dentist...

She moaned audibly--attracting the attention of the woman who had guarded her all day, but not really caring--and pressed her hand to her forehead.

"Rough day?" the auror asked and Agrippa nodded. "You and Remus should chat sometime--maybe you can put things in perspective for him."

Agrippa forced a smile as the other woman laughed and wandered into the kitchen. Forget the bratty kids--she hated Floo powder even more.

*

Hermione smiled to herself and rolled over so that her head was resting in the hollow of Severus's chest--she really could get used to this.

"So much for a quick break," she commented wryly and was rewarded by his bark of laughter.

"We wouldn't have achieved much, at any rate," he said by way of reply. "Particularly not at the rate we were going."

"True." She buried her face in his chest and inhaled. "Not to mention that I do rather like the alternative."

His fingers began tracing designs on her side and she felt a delicious shiver run through her. "Then by all means," he whispered in her ear, "we shall indulge."

*

"What do you think?" Ginny asked, her bewildered expression bearing no resemblance to the wolf she had been only minutes ago.

Lupin shook his head and she felt a stab of fear, wondering if she were some sort of freak of nature or something was terribly wrong.

"I don't know what to think," he replied carefully, "but I do have a few ideas."

Her eyes widened. Anything, any crazy thing that he could come up with would be better than being completely in the dark.

"You displayed the traits of an animagus more than those of a werewolf," he began, "but you say that on the full moon, you had no choice in the transformation."

He glanced at her for confirmation and she nodded quickly.

"My thought is that perhaps your shape that you would shift into naturally is a wolf and this and the werewolf genes blended together to create a combination of the two. You have more control over your mind when transformed and though you have to change when nor--most werewolves do, you have a choice the rest of the time."

She nodded again to show that she understood what he was saying. "Anything else?"

"There is one other explanation that I can think of, but it's slightly less likely..."

"And it would be..." she prompted.

"Have you ever heard of the muggle biologist Charles Darwin?"

"No." Ginny shook her head, wondering how the two were related.

"I'm sure your brother Charlie could give you a more accurate description of it, but it basically states that all life evolved from a common ancestor and variation within a species led to the formation of a new species. Do you follow?"

"Not really, but keep going. I can look it up."

"Random mutation of genetic material would occur and if the mutations proved favourable, the animal or plant or whatever it was would survive to pass the traits on, eventually creating a new species. At any rate, that isn't the important part..."

"So what you're suggesting is that I'm the beginning of a new species of werewolf?"

He shrugged. "Possibly. Maybe it's a combination of the two, maybe it's neither one."

"Is there any way to find out?"

"Not really."

*

Hours later, Severus found himself still awake, despite the late hour, with Hermione sleeping peacefully beside him. After taking care of other matters, they had returned to trying various experimenting with the potion, but to no avail and, both frustrated by the failure of reason, they had retired--once again--to his quarters.

Even with his irritation, he might have still found sleep if a solution to the problem hadn't suddenly popped into his head. A solution that--if possible--was more daunting than the problem itself. He groaned, knowing that there would be no way to avoid it, and rolled out of bed, wrapping a dressing gown around himself as he made his way into the next room. As he dug through his desk, searching for writing materials, he became aware of a tapping at his window. Rolling his eyes, he opened it and allowed the barn owl to swoop in, drop a neatly rolled letter at his feet and fly away again.

How does she do it? he wondered, stooping to pick it up and unrolling it.