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The Wolf, the Otter, and the Slytherin	By : Tri Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 32023 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the world of Harry Potter. I merely write for fun.

Chapter List
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The sweet of rich honey and the spicy tang of cinnamon drifted through her nostrils, and like a light switch being turned on, Hermione’s body jolt up. A soft groan slipped out of her lips as Hermione cracked open her eyes. Above her, like an outline of a star, blades of a fan spun in a lazy circle, filling the room with the sweet smells and warm air. Blaring light manage to make it past the curtains, nearly blinding her. She bounced up as her hand met the soft material of cotton rather the hard woolen sheets she had come to know in Grimmauld Place.

Expecting to find that she had in fact slept in the wrong room again, Hermione felt her breath caught faster than Harry catching the Snitch. Instead of the drab gray and mute color walls of Grimmauld Place, the walls were in fact a bright, welcoming pink as white painted flowers flew down like rain along the bright color. A desk greeted her with its familiarity, covered in books and framed photos of her friends and family. To her left, the window was surrounded by a tall bookcase and a dresser.

“Hermione? Time to wake up, sweetie!” A voice through the white door called.

Hermione reached for her wand but as the voice was processed through her head, her hand stilled. That was her mother’s voice! And this was her bedroom!

Hermione suddenly leapt from her bed, throwing the blankets to the side. She threw the door open and rushed outside into a hallway full of photos of her and her family. The smell of hash browns being fried and the sweet scent of freshly squeezed orange juice ran her senses over like a car. Like a bee to a flower, Hermione followed the scent all the way downstairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, Hermione felt her breath being taken once again. Across from her, in the normally sized kitchen, was her mother. Her mother bounced between the stove top to the fridge, grabbing more ingredients for breakfast. Hermione could see the purple polka dotted apron tied around her waist, the same one that her mother had worn when the Granger family was first greeted by the letter from Hogwarts.

After cracking an egg to put in the skillet, Jean Granger’s dark green eyes peered over her shoulder to look at Hermione. “Sweetie, come and sit down before the hash browns get-Ompfh!”

Hermione wrapped her arms tighter around her mother’s body, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume; lavender and violet. The young witch buried her face into her mother’s shoulder, hoping to grab more that scent for safe keeping.

Her mother squirm under her arms as Hermione had locked her arms to the side. “Hermione? Are you alright?” Jean’s voice was full of worry.

“Is everything alright in here?” The male voice was the one that broke Jean free of Hermione tight hug.

Standing in the doorway to the dining room was her father. Under his arm was the daily paper, rolled up and ready to read. His brown eyes peered at Hermione, full of questions as always.

“It’s like she hadn’t seen me in years, David!” Jean cried out, answering her husband’s question.

Before he could answer, he too was embraced in Hermione warm arms. Tears began to sting her eyes, making everything all cloudy. David coughed and patted his daughter on the head, awkward at the strange hug. “It is alright there, Hermione, we are here....Don’t cry.”

Hermione sniffled, trying to brush back tears but they kept coming down faster than she could wipe them away. Both of her parents were looking at her like she lost her marbles. But, they were there...in front of her. They knew who she was. She was home.

“I missed you two so much. You have no idea how long I have missed you.” Hermione cried in joy. Hermione went to embrace her parents once more.

“No, we wouldn’t have, would we?” Her mother’s voice hissed out like ice cracking.

“What?” Hermione never heard that tone in her mother’s voice. Her mother was gentle and kind.

“Since you left us here for dead after all,” like her mother, her father’s voice was as cold as ice. “Did you really think erasing our memories would keep us safe?”

Hermione felt her heart taking a sudden drop to the ground. In a flash, the appetizing scents of the food around her turned sour as her nostrils were filled with this metallic sensation, making her stomach turn. “I...I wanted to protect you!”

“We trusted you...”

“We loved you...”

Her parents moved together, shoulder to shoulder as they began their approach to Hermione. At each step they took it as one more step backwards for Hermione. Their eyes began to morph from bright and warm to dark as black. Her parents complexion turn a sharp white as cuts suddenly appeared around their bodies. Hermione gave a horrified gasp as she saw her mother’s throat being sliced open and blood dripping out and trailing down her shirt to stain the polka dotted apron. Her father’s knitted sweat was soon stained red as a large and deep cut spread from his neck and all the way down to his stomach.

“You left us to die!” Her mother hissed, blood gurgling from her neck.

“Left us to die so you could shag a werewolf! Some daughter you are!”

As her parents moved to strike their daughter with bloody hands, arms snaked around Hermione’s arms and trapped them around her back. The young witch cried, thrashing under her assault, wanting to break free and end this madness.

“You can’t save them, girl. You are too weak. Too distracted from the main event!” A voice hissed in her ear, sending shivers of disgust down her spine. “Some brightest witch of her age you turned out to be!”

Twisting her head around, Hermione was witness to a horrible sight. The long and twisted face of Dolohvo as he sneered at her, his rough beard scratch against her cheek as his pin thin black hair looked as filthy as a dark mud. The Death Eater’s face split in a twisted and dangerous grin. His eyes sparkle like he found the most wonderful of all treasures. As his hand kept her secure, his other hand raised an already bloodied dagger to her throat.

“Now, to finish what I started all those years ago. I’m going to love to hear you scream, girlie!”

He raised his dagger to plunge it deep into heart. Hermione screamed through the intense pain as he moved the dagger down toward her hip. Hermione felt the heat of her own blood seeping from her body. Her vision swam as her blood began to pool on the kitchen floor of the house she treasured. Dolohov yanked the dagger from her and Hermione felt the faint touch of his hand as he pushed her forward.

Time began to stall as Hermione fell toward the floor. Her parents stood idly by as she fell, their eyes black as the nights sky and just as lifeless. Before Hermione could meet the hard kitchen floor, warm arms wrapped around her body and cradled her head in the crooks of the arms.

“Hermione...wake up...” the soft voice of an angel cried out to her. Hermione turn her head and found comfort in the silver orbs of her angel before everything turned dark.

--

“Hermione! Wake up! Please!”

Her body began to shake as the voice vibrated in her ears. Hermione groaned in pain as the shaking grew too violent for her to handle. That little soft groan was all the arms shaking her to stop. She had only a split second to see silver eyes looking at her before she suddenly felt her body being squished against another body.

“Oh, thank Merlin.” the voice breathed in relief, keeping her close, wrapping arm around her body.

Hermione nose began to tickle as it rubbed against the tiny hairs on the chest she was begin held against. The young witch squirmed and the arms, the feel of Dolohov trapping her was still fresh in her mind. The scent of freshly cut grass and the heart beat against her ear calmed her in a flash. It was like cold water splashing against her cheeks but without the harsh bitter water sending shivers down her spine.

“I was so worried.” The deep voice rumble against her ear.

With a start, Hermione pulled quickly away as she soon recognized the voice. Sitting on her bed was Remus Lupin. A shirtless Remus Lupin. All he had on was a pair of dark blue pajama bottoms, tied loosely with a white string. His chest shone brightly as the silver patches of scars lit up in the moon light behind him. His hair was unkempt, ruffle from sleep, strands of brown hair tickle his cheek.

“Hermione? Are you alright?” Remus call to again her.

Hermione’s heart thump heavy in her ears, deafening the noise around her. The young witch glance around the room (her eyes refusing to land back on the worried werewolf on her bed). She was in her room at Grimmauld Place and there no one else in her room beside Crookshanks who sat at the edge of the bed, his ears perked up to see what was the matter with his mistress.

No Dolohov.

A warm hand touch her cheek, sending a jolt of electricity down her spine. Hermione suddenly had to face the man she had been avoiding for a whole week. Ever since that...that wolf incident in the cell. She could still feel the hard grip around her body of that creature that took over Remus’ body on the first full moon. Every time he was in the same room as her, Hermione quickly made up an excuse to leave. Hermione couldn’t even muster up the courage to ask Remus about what happen, if he could shed on light on his wolf self. Some Gryffindor she was.

“You’re crying....” A thumb brush against the soft skin under her eye, wiping away the salty water.

At his words, the dam holding back so much stress, frustration, and fear burst open. Tears began to spill rapidly down her cheeks before Hermione could hold them back. The young witch buried her face in her hands, blocking the world from seeing how weak she was. As each drop of tear splashed against her hands the more Hermione began to ridicule herself. How dare she cry? She faced strife and hardships that would break a strong man but, she kept going in order to fight for another day. And here she was, crying like a small child!

Her hands were yank away from her face and pin to the bed beneath her. Hermione was face to face with an angry looking werewolf. Remus silver eyes flash gold and he stared her down, looking right into her soul. His anger was not directed toward her but rather whatever caused her tears.

“Hermione, why are you crying?” his voice rumble through clench teeth. “Tell me.”

Hermione wanted to turn her head away, shield her crying and pathetic self away from this man. But, her brown eyes are trapped under his gaze. His voice was like cleansing charm, clearing the fog that trapped her. Her tears were the cause of many things that kept piling up against her.

“I...I had a dream I was back at my parents’ house. They were fine, they were happy. They remembered me. But...” Hermione swallow down a lump in her throat hoping that would cease her voice from cracking. “They hated me....They thought I abandon them. They began to come at me with so much hatred. Before I knew it, Dolohov grab me and stabbed me...”

Once Hermione explain her dream, Remus let her hands go. “I am sorry, Hermione. But it was only a nightmare....It won’t hurt you.”

Hermione shook her head, sending her wild hair spinning around her. “It’s only a reminder that I betrayed my parents’ trust in me. I erase their memories of me....change their lives and mine. I might just erase my memories of them as well!”

“You can’t mean that, Hermione!”

“If it wasn’t for this damn soul mate problem, I would have gone to see them and fix the memory charm. But now, I have to see if I can help Narcissa Malfoy with her problem,” Hermione threw her fists down in anger against the lumpy bed. “Why do people ask me to do all of this? Haven’t I earned my rest?”

“Of course you have earn it, Hermione,” Remus move his body next to her and even when it was a few inches away, Hermione could feel the body heat coming off his skin like waves. “If it wasn’t for you, our boy Harry might not have made it long.”

“Harry had the strength to survive against Voldemort. I wasn’t needed much. All I did was get myself in trouble or cry like a pathetic baby.” Hermione snip back at him.

The werewolf shook his head, “He needed you...and Ron while you were all on your own. You stood by your friend. Harry might have survived hunting down the Horcruxes but, if it wasn’t for you or Ron, the Harry we know might be different. All three of you kept each other grounded, stable; sane. It takes a brave person to be able to fight through that mess intact. Yet, it takes a stronger person to admit that they needed friends to support them along the way.”

Hermione felt tears well up in her eyes again. “I’m not strong, Remus, I’m not,” her voice was a whisper despite the fact that it was only her and Remus in the room. “If I strong, I would to be able to fix everything. I can barely get over this soul mate hurdle!”

Suddenly Hermione felt the smooth skin of Remus’ arm against her back as it draped over her shoulder. The werewolf pull her closer to him, burying his nose in her wild mane. She could hear the gentle inhaling and exhaling as the werewolf breathe in her scent.

“You have no idea what this man, Remus, thinks about…dreams about. All about you. So many of them range from sicken sweet to dark and so delectable things. Last time you wore your pajamas around him, Remus imagined he could rip that tight shirt of yours and gorge himself on those pert breasts of yours.”

The werewolf words ran to the front of her mind, pushing past her worries just so the wolf’s deep voice rumble through her head. Hermione gave a large leap in her chest as her throat felt dry as the Sahara desert. The young witch stomach twisted into a tight ball as Remus’ fingers drew lazy circle on her arm like the mirror feeling of the wolf’s fingers running against her clothes. Did Remus really think those thoughts?

The idea that this kind and caring man next to her might have those wicked thoughts threw her mind in a spin. Not only was everything coming crashing on top of her but now she had to deal with the warning coming from that vicious creature. Hermione would have filed it away as just the werewolf playing mind games with her if it wasn’t for the simple fact; Hermione might want to see Remus lose control like that.

They had kissed once before but like a drug dealer giving his new client a free sample, Hermione wanted to know how far she could go with the werewolf. The muggle-born witch began to wonder if Remus might be alright with taking away her worries by snogging her brains out. The idea of him on top of her running his padded tongue against her skin, licking up the salty bitter taste of her sweat as the witch start to writhe under his touch, sent a warm bolt go straight to her groin.

“You’re not alone in this,” Remus mutter against her hair, his voice waking her from her day dreaming. “You can always ask me and the others for help.”

What struck her down the hardest was not his hand pulling away from her skin but his tone. He was speaking to her like a father to a child, offering up help when he knew she was too proud to say yes to. The very image of him taking her wildly on the back straining bed disappeared as his fingers slid off her skin. She was left with a cold feeling brewing in her stomach. Hermione let her own hormones overtake her sense of being.

“Yes...I understand...” Hermione glance down at her pillow. She didn’t want him to see the lust in her eyes when it was obvious he didn’t want to act on her unspoken lustful wishes.

Remus got up from the bed, “We can talk about out our game plan later. Do you think you can sleep for the rest of the night?” Hermione nodded simply. “There is some Dreamless Draught in the bathroom cupboard if you need some. Goodnight, Hermione.”

“Good night, Remus,”

It was only until the door squeaked closed that Hermione let gravity pull her down back to bed. Her hand took refuge in the warm spot where Remus was sitting in. Her fingers curled, hoping to capture that feeling of him beside her but to no avail. Why did he have to leave? Hermione wanted him beside her, wrapping his arms around her and washing away all her worries at each kiss. She wish she was stronger to tell him her feelings that.

The cold feeling blossom over her entire being, icing up every nerve in her body. Hermione let out a strain whimper, pain curling her body into a tight ball. All the witch wanted was to get up and chase after the werewolf but this panging pain kept her still for rest of the night.

--

Author’s Note: *slinks back* Uh….hi all…Sorry for the crazy delay of nothingness. It seemed after the last chapter, life decided to screw me. And not the good kind where we can smoke a cigarette after, the bad kind where I felt like I needed to run away. I’m back now, with chapters that are waiting to be posted. Please, review and tell me what you think.
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The Wolf, the Otter, and the Slytherin