A Werewolf at Hogwarts

Hermione Granger was just starting to fancy Ron Weasley but will that all change when she pops outside to take a glance at the moon?

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11. The Shrieking Shack

~Chapter Eleven~

Devon had been running for almost an hour, he couldn't located the exact spot of the howl. He had tried to pick up a scent but it was muffled with the smell of Hermione's blood that had dried on his claws, he could taste the kill he was so rudely ripped away from. He had been searching for another five minutes when his ears pricked up to the sound of a howl not far from where he was standing. He stretched out his shoulders and bounded after the call. Not long after he had heard the second call, he picked up a scent but stopped dead in his tracks, this wasn't his territory... If he set another foot inland, he would be ripped apart by the other wolf. A third howl sounded, Devon moved his ears around and he understood from the howl that the fellow wolf was asking for help. He wanted to help, but he needed to leave... Devon took a deep breath of the cool air and bounded after the call.

 

Ron had finally reached Dumbledore's office and was a few feet away when he was stopped by Professor Mcgonagall.
"Mr. Weasley? What are you doing out of bed at this time?"
Ron turned around and walked up to her, he handed her Hermione's snapped wand. Mcgonagall squeezed the snapped wand, her face pale.
"Explain."
"Hermione has been attacked, she nearly died." He stretched out his blood-stained shirt, showing Mcgonagall the amount of blood Hermione had lost when she was in his arms, being brought back to the castle.
"And you were coming to get Professor Dumbledore, correct?"
"Yes," He stepped back and pointed toward the door leading up to Dumbledore's office. "May I go now?"
"No, you'll have to take me to Madam Pomfrey as Professor Dumbledore is busy." A little colour returned to her face and they went back to the hospital wing. As they entered, Ron's face lit up - Hermione looked like herself again. Madam Pomfrey had worked her magic again, most major cuts had been healed completely, Hermione's knee no longer looked purple and out of shape, she had stitches in one cut and only the gash on her cheek remained untouched. Ron instantly left Professor Mcgonagall's side and sat next to Hermione's bed, he reached out to hold her hand.
"Mr. Weasley?" Madam Pomfrey asked.
"Y-yes?" Ron replied.
"I understand that you care for Miss. Granger, but you can't hold her hand yet. I'm sorry." She said.
Ron plastered a weak smile on his face, "That's okay." He turned back around and just stared at Hermione, hoping that she'd wake up from this. Madam Pomfrey took Professor Mcgonagall away from the bedside, she wore a grim face.
"What happened?" She asked the nurse, already knowing the answer.
"I'm not completely sure," She confessed. "Mr. Weasley burst in with Miss. Granger huddled in his arms, bleeding everywhere. He just said that she'd been attacked." They looked over to the students, sympathetically.
"I need to know where Mr. Weasley found Miss. Ganger, do you know?" She faced the nurse.
"No, but you could ask the boy." She suggested. Minerva nodded. Madam Pomfrey left the room to get some more potions.
"Mr. Weasley?"
"Yes?" He answered without looking up.
"When you found Miss. Granger, what were you doing?"
Ron thought for a moment. "Well," He sighed. "We were at Hagrid's, I might of said something to hurt her feelings and she stormed out, Hagrid told me to go after her but I... I didn't," His voice trailed off. "It was my fault. It's my fault she looks like this." He murmured He put his shoulders on his lap and buried his face in his palms.
"It's my fault!" He shouted to the room. He started to sob and Professor Mcgonagall was taken aback, she pulled up a chair and sat beside him, telling him over and over: It's not your fault.

 

Devon had followed the scent of the other wolf and had located it down to The Shrieking Shack. He sniffed around, just to make sure the wolf was in here and not somewhere else. His claws scratched at the paintwork on the outside of the door, he grunted a message to the other wolf: I'm here to help you. His claws scratched at the door a little more, then it opened with the clank of a rusty hinge falling to meet the wooden floor on the inside. He swiveled his ears around and awaited a reply... Nothing. He walked in and searched around the first room for any sign that the wolf was here. He held his head high and sniffed the air, he could smell the wolf but beneath that he could smell his kin. It was a faint and worn smell but it was there, he followed it and stopped at an old arm-chair. He didn't think twice before settling down on it and suddenly he felt tired, shutting his eyes he drifted off.

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