Chapter 4

Warning - Explicit Content Ahead!

By: MauradingIntoTuesday

Hermione lay on the bed in the Hospital Wing, the cool, sterile sheets a sharp contrast to the heat that still seemed to linger under her skin. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of Madam Pomfrey moving about in the far corner. The events of the night weighed heavily on her, the memories swirling in her mind—Remus's growls, the overwhelming need that had consumed her, and the sudden shock of being pulled apart by the teachers' magic.

She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sound of her own breathing, but the dull ache in her chest wouldn't go away. It wasn't just physical—though her body still felt raw from the intensity of the heat—but there was something deeper, a sense of confusion and shame that made her stomach churn.

Dumbledore had said it wasn't her fault. He had reassured her as they guided her back to the castle, wrapped in a cloak to shield her from the cool night air, his voice calm and comforting. But that didn't make it any easier. The things she had felt, the way her body had acted on instinct—it was terrifying.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes landing on the small window beside her bed. The moon was still high in the sky, but its light seemed gentler now, no longer the harsh, controlling force it had been in the Shrieking Shack.

Hermione's thoughts drifted to Remus. He had been taken to another room, Madam Pomfrey fussing over him as they both tried to recover from the night's ordeal. She wondered how he was feeling, what he was thinking. Did he feel the same shame she did? Or was he used to it, after so many years of living with the wolf inside him?

The door to the Hospital Wing creaked open softly, pulling Hermione from her thoughts. She lifted her head just as Professor McGonagall stepped inside, her face set in a stern but sympathetic expression. Her robes swished quietly as she approached, her eyes scanning Hermione carefully, as if checking for any lingering effects of the night.

"Hermione," McGonagall said softly, pulling a chair up beside her bed and sitting down. "How are you feeling?"

Hermione swallowed, her throat dry. "I… I don't know," she admitted, her voice small. "I still feel… strange. Like it's not over."

McGonagall nodded, her expression understanding. "It's to be expected. The heat, especially your first one, can leave lingering effects for some time. Your body is still adjusting to the transformation."

Hermione looked down at her hands, wringing them together as she spoke. "Professor… I didn't realize it would be this strong. I thought I could control it. But it just… took over."

McGonagall sighed softly, leaning forward as she rested her hands in her lap. "Becoming an Animagus is one thing, but when your form is something as powerful and instinctual as a wolf… the rules change. The instincts tied to that form are different from other animals. You are not like Sirius or myself—wolves have a pack mentality, a hierarchy. The heat is part of that, and it's much harder to control than you anticipated."

Hermione sat up slightly, her brow furrowing as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. She could still see Remus's face, the way he had fought so hard against the pull of his instincts, and the guilt that had weighed heavily on his features even as the transformation consumed him.

"This wasn't his fault," she blurted out, her voice more urgent than she intended. "Professor Lupin—Remus—he was fighting it the whole time. I know he was. He tried to stop it, to hold back, but… it was me. I was the one who couldn't control it. I don't want him to feel like he did something wrong."

McGonagall's gaze softened as she listened, and she reached out, placing a steady hand on Hermione's. "I understand, Hermione. And I believe Remus knows that too, deep down. But you must remember, the wolf inside him is powerful—just as yours is. His instincts were pushing him, just as yours were pushing you. The difference is that he's had years of experience learning to suppress it. This isn't new to him, but that doesn't make it easy."

Hermione bit her lip, her mind spinning with conflicting emotions. She could still feel the intensity of those moments—the overwhelming heat, the pull toward him, the way her body had acted on its own. It had felt like she was drowning in it, helpless to fight the wolf that had risen inside her. But even in the haze, she had seen Remus struggle. He had resisted, tried to keep her safe, even when the wolf inside him had been clawing at him to give in.

"I just… I don't want him to think he's to blame," Hermione said, her voice quieter now, filled with the lingering worry that gnawed at her. "He was doing everything he could to protect me."

McGonagall's hand tightened slightly on Hermione's, her expression thoughtful. "I'll speak to him," she said gently. "He's resting now, but I know Remus. He takes responsibility for things even when they are beyond his control. It may take some time for him to forgive himself for what happened, but you both need to understand that this wasn't something either of you could stop."

Hermione felt a lump form in her throat, the weight of the night's events pressing down on her again. She had thought becoming an Animagus would be an achievement—something that would make her stronger, more capable, but now it felt like a burden she hadn't been prepared for.

McGonagall's eyes softened even further, a flicker of something almost maternal in her gaze. "You're not alone in this, Hermione," she said softly. "We're here to help you—myself, Dumbledore, and Remus. You're still learning, and it will take time to fully understand what this means for you."

Hermione nodded, though the uncertainty still weighed heavily on her. "Thank you, Professor," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

McGonagall gave her a small, reassuring smile before standing up. "Rest for now," she said, her voice firm but kind. "The full moon will pass soon, and you'll feel more like yourself in the morning. We'll talk more when you've recovered."

As McGonagall turned to leave, Hermione lay back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, her thoughts still swirling. The heat was fading slowly, but the emotions it had stirred up remained, leaving her with a deep sense of unease.

She closed her eyes, her mind drifting back to Remus once more.

Hermione drifted into a restless sleep, her mind unable to quiet itself despite the exhaustion weighing down her body. The events of the night replayed over and over in her thoughts, but soon, the hazy memories gave way to something more vivid—more primal. It was as though the remnants of the heat still simmered beneath the surface, pulling her back into that intense, overwhelming need she had felt in the Shrieking Shack.

In her dream, she was back there, standing in the dimly lit room, the rough wooden walls pressing in around her. The moonlight filtered through the cracks, casting an ethereal glow over everything. She could feel her skin prickling with the same heat, her body alive with that undeniable, desperate need. The fire inside her was stronger now, hotter, as if it had never truly faded.

Remus was there, standing just as he had been before they were torn apart by magic. His golden eyes glowed in the moonlight, half-man, half-wolf, his chest heaving with barely-contained desire. He looked at her with the same intensity, the same hunger, and it made her blood sing.

Her body moved toward him instinctively, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the distance between them closed. Her fingers reached out, trembling, desperate to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin, the strength of his body. The heat radiating from him was intoxicating, and she could feel the pull of their connection, the unspoken bond between their wolves drawing them together.

"Alpha," she whispered, the word falling from her lips like a plea.

Remus growled low in his throat, a deep, guttural sound that sent a shiver through her entire body. His hands moved, rough and possessive, gripping her waist as he pulled her against him with a force that left her breathless. His mouth found hers, hot and urgent, and Hermione moaned into the kiss, her body arching into him as every nerve sparked with electric sensation.

It was raw, intense, and all-consuming. His lips trailed down her neck, teeth grazing her skin, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, wanting—needing—more. Her heart raced, the pulse of the wolf inside her matching the rhythm of her breathless moans.

Their clothes seemed to vanish, the rough material falling away, leaving nothing between them but skin and heat. Hermione's hands roamed over his bare chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, her fingers brushing against the scars that marked his skin. She felt his growl reverberate through her, a sound so primal it made her tremble.

He was bigger than she had imagined—larger than anyone she had ever been with before. The feeling of his hard length pressing against her made her gasp, her body trembling with both anticipation and fear. It was overwhelming, the size of him, the heat between them so intense that she could barely think.

"Alpha," she whispered again, the word catching in her throat as her body ached with need.

Remus growled in response, the sound vibrating through her, primal and possessive. She pressed her harder against the rough wooden wall, his growl low and rumbling as he positioned himself at her entrance. Hermione's hands clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she braced herself. The heat inside her was unbearable now, her body screaming for release, for him to fill the aching void that had consumed her.

But as he began to push into her, she realized just how big he truly was.

Her breath hitched, her body tensing as he stretched her beyond anything she had ever felt before. It was too much—almost too much to bear—and for a moment, she wondered if she could take him at all. The sensation of him filling her, inch by inch, was both exquisite and terrifying, the intensity of it making her cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain.

"Alpha" she gasped, her voice trembling as her body strained to accommodate him. "You're… too big…"

He growled again, low and guttural, his mouth grazing her neck as he continued to push deeper, the sensation of him inside her almost too much to handle. It felt like he was going to tear her apart, the sheer size of him stretching her to her limits, but at the same time, the pleasure that coursed through her was undeniable, overwhelming every sense she had.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to adjust to him, her body shaking with each movement. He was relentless, the wolf in him taking control as he drove into her, his growls deepening with every thrust. The weight of him, the heat between them, and the primal force of their connection left her mind spinning, her body on the brink of something she couldn't fully understand. Her vision blurred as he pushed her further, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

"Alpha," she whimpered, her voice cracking as her body ached for release. The word came unbidden, a desperate plea for more, for everything he was giving her. The wolf inside her howled in satisfaction, responding to him with a need that felt limitless.

Just as the pleasure became too much, threatening to consume her completely, everything shattered. Her body tensed, the overwhelming sensation of him inside her sending her spiraling toward a climax that felt like it would break her.

And then, suddenly, she was awake.

Her eyes flew open, her body jerking upright in bed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The cold air of the Hospital Wing hit her like a shock, but the heat still lingered under her skin, the intensity of the dream refusing to fade.

"Alpha!" she screamed, her voice hoarse, echoing through the quiet room.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her body trembling as the remnants of the dream clung to her, the vivid sensations still coursing through her. It had felt so real—too real—and now, in the cold, sterile light of the Hospital Wing, the reality of it all hit her like a wave.

She was drenched in sweat, her skin flushed, her hands gripping the sheets tightly as her mind raced to catch up with her body. The dream had been more than just a dream—it had been a reflection of the raw, primal connection she had felt with Remus. The wolf in her still ached for him, even now, as the remnants of the heat pulsed beneath the surface.

The door to the Hospital Wing opened suddenly, and Madam Pomfrey rushed in, her expression filled with concern.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed, hurrying to her bedside. "What is it? Are you all right?"

Hermione's breath hitched, her heart still racing as she tried to find the words. But the intensity of the dream still held her captive, and all she could manage was a whispered, shaky, "I… I don't know."

Madam Pomfrey's eyes softened as she placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder, her voice gentle. "It's all right, dear. The effects of the heat can be disorienting, especially after what you've been through."

Hermione nodded, though her mind was still reeling, the echo of "alpha" still ringing in her ears.