A/N: I hope you like this one.

xx-Kitten.

Devil in Me

By Kittenshift17

Chapter Four

21st October, 1964

Remus Lupin blinked his eyes open at the soft sound in the dead of the night. The soft snick of claws clicking across the hardwood floor of his bedroom. Eyes gleamed from the corner of the room, coming closer and he froze in terror.

"I wasn't under the bed," a gravelly voice said quietly, coming from the direction of the glowing yellow eyes.

Remus was too scared to scream. It could talk. The monster could talk. Daddy said he was too old to worry about monsters in his room, but there was a monster, and it could talk. He couldn't make out any other features other than its glowing eyes. He could hear that repeated snick-snick of claws against the wood as the eyes moved closer.

"Don't scream, little cub," the voice said as the end of Remus's bed sagged, the monster climbing up on top of it. "This won't hurt…. Much."

A terrible sound of cracking bones and ripping flesh rent the air and the monster writhed on the end of his bed, pinning Remus's feet. Too scared to scream or to try to run, Remus pulled his blankets over his head, hoping the monster might go away if it couldn't see him.

It didn't.

A terrible growl rocked through Remus's tiny frame and a little whimper of terror tore from his throat when the blankets were slowly dragged down, no matter how he fought with them. Looming over him when he dared open his eyes despite being curled into a defensive ball, a terrible, enormous wolf filled Remus's sight. He didn't bare his fangs or snarl at Remus once the blanket was out of the way and when he made no immediate move to lunge at him or attack, Remus blinked.

He might be young, but his Daddy had been teaching him about magical creatures since he could talk. And Daddy often said that if the creature didn't immediately attack, it might be friendly.

"Are you… a werewolf?" Remus asked fearfully, eyeing the enormous black wolf and wondering if the monster could still talk.

When the wolf nodded, Remus suspected that though he was a wolf, he could still think like a human.

"Are you going to eat me?" Remus asked, having learned from Daddy that werewolves were dangerous, mindless killers.

The wolf shook his head, sitting back on the haunches and regarding Remus carefully. Remus stared back, slowly uncurling when the monster made no move to attack him. He sat up and held the golden-eyed gaze of the beast sitting on the end of his bed.

"Why are you here if you don't want to eat me?" Remus asked. "Daddy won't be happy if he sees you. He doesn't like werewolves."

The wolf nodded again and Remus took that for agreement.

"Can I pet you?" Remus asked when the wolf still didn't move, the urge to pet the enormous creatures overwhelming him. He looked like a really big, really hungry dog.

The wolf huffed in surprise at the question, obviously surprised by his slowly receding fear. He leaned forward slowly, bowing his head and offering it to Remus to pet. Remus's hand trembled as he reached out slowly to pet the enormous monster. His thick fur tickled Remus's palm when he touched him. Remus could feel the magic coursing through the dark creature, powerful and pulsing. Through the window, the light of the full moon illuminated the two of them and Remus laughed quietly, wondering how this could be.

How could Daddy say that werewolves were mindless, ravenous beasts when this one was sitting so politely in his presence, letting Remus pet him?

"You're big," Remus told the werewolf. "I wish you could still talk. I have questions."

The wolf opened his eyes and met Remus's gaze, tilting his head to one side and looking intrigued. Remus wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Remus?" Daddy's voice came from the hallway. "Who are you talking to, son?"

The beast growled when Daddy turned the doorhandle and Remus reached for him with both hands, gripping the monster's furry face, trying to keep his gaze on him even as Daddy pushed the door open.

"Daddy, don't," Remus begged, sensing the evil intent in the wolf's eyes when Daddy gasped, his hand diving for his wand.

"Remus, run!" Lyall Lupin shouted, flinging hexes at the werewolf.

Remus clung tighter to the wolf.

"Don't attack him. He doesn't know you're friendly. Daddy, stop!" Remus shouted, trying to reason with the werewolf before yelling at Daddy.

"I'll kill you for this, you bastard!" Lyall shouted at the werewolf and Remus hissed in surprise when the wolf leaned forward and licked him right between the eyes.

"What was that for?" Remus asked, more surprised than afraid.

He regretted it when the wolf stood, nudging Remus's chest with his enormous head and pushing him back until he was lying flat, as though to protect him from the Killing Curses that Daddy was flinging at the monster.

Remus held his breath when the werewolf loomed over him once more before it lunged. That huge maw wrapped around Remus's left shoulder and Remus howled in pain and shock and betrayal that his new friend had bitten him.

"NOOOOO!" Lyall screamed.

The werewolf bit Remus hard and Remus began to cry, screaming and sobbing with the agony of the bite. Bounding off the bed and leaving him there, bleeding, the werewolf leapt through the open second story window, disappearing from view.

Remus writhed on the bed as Daddy chased the werewolf across the room, flinging more curses at the beast that bounced right off.

"Remus?" Hope Lupin rushed into the room, hurrying over to her young son where he screamed on the bed, blood staining his pyjamas and his sheets.

Remus cried harder when Mummy saw the bite and pulled him into her embrace, holding him snugly as she began to cry.

"My precious boy," she said over and over again.

"Hope, that was a werewolf," Lyall told his wife. "We need to make a paste of powered silver and dittany. He bit Remus and if we don't apply it, Remus will die."

Daddy was crying and Mummy was crying as they carried Remus down the stairs and into Daddy's office. Remus screamed and cried and writhed, and when he was sat upon Daddy's desk while Daddy made a paste and began painting it on Remus's bite, Remus would swear he spied a pair of intelligent golden eyes watching him through the window.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

17th January 1965

Della Stone writhed upon the bed, her body thrumming with need. This was getting out of hand. Every month now since the birth of Hermione in the lead up to the full moon, her body thrummed and ached and positively trembled with need. She knew it was the result of the full moon, the bite on her shoulder, and her lycanthropic link to Fenton as his mate driving her body mad with the need to seek him out.

For five years, she had resisted. For five years she'd holed up in her room at the full moon, hidden far from wherever Fenton might find them and hoping against hope that he might find them, just the same. Just for a little while. Just to relieve the terrible throb in her nethers. She didn't dare go to him. She didn't want to get pregnant again. She didn't want to face him when she'd hidden from him for so long, hiding herself and their daughter far from his reach.

He would be angry. He would punish her. She barely knew him and she didn't know how he might react should she just turn up at his cottage one day, out of her mind with lust. What if he tried to take Hermione from her?

Della whimpered, struggling against the urges the moon pushed through her.

Hermione was growing wilder with each passing moon. She'd been enrolled to start school and already Della had been forced to move them three times because the girl didn't understand how not to talk about her condition. She'd tried sending the girl to muggle schools, which helped, since the other children thought her weird, but didn't believe in werewolves enough to think it more than just a game. But when the teachers started asking questions about her imagination, Della tended to move them.

Maybe she should go to Fenton. She was struggling on her own. The two of them against the world wasn't healthy, and Hermione didn't make friends easily. She was too much a lone wolf, too weird, too wild, too different. She was territorial, and she didn't like letting strangers onto their land whenever they moved house - vehemently defending their 'den' to the point where she'd bitten the kindly old man who lived next door at their last residence.

Della was so tired.

Tired of running. Tired of hiding. Tired of the letters from her parents that urged her to leave Hermione to Fenton and to run far away. She was tired of the aching need inside her soul for a man's touch, so long unfulfilled.

"Mummy?" Hermione asked quietly, padding into the room sporting her tail, her wolf ears, her fangs and her claws. Her usually brown eyes gleamed a bright canine gold.

"What is it, darling?" Della asked, her breath laboured.

"You hurt like this because you miss my Daddy," Hermione told her matter-of-factly.

Della nodded, whimpering.

"Why do we hide form him?" Hermione asked, climbing up on the bed. "If you hurt without him, and he's like me, shouldn't we be with him. What if he hurts without you, too?"

Della hated that the girl's thoughts were running parallel to her own. Maybe it was time. Maybe she should go to him.

"Do you want to meet your Daddy, sweetheart?" Della asked her quietly.

"Will he hurt us, Mummy?" Hermione asked innocently. "You said we had to stay away from Daddy because he might hurt us."

"He'd never hurt you, darling," Della assured her.

"Would he hurt you?" Hermione asked, frowning, baring her fangs at the very idea.

"He might, darling. Mummy ran from him when you were born and hasn't let him find us since. He might not be very happy that we've been hiding from him. He might be very angry with Mummy."

"I wouldn't let him hurt you, Mummy," Hermione said, tangling her hands in Della's hair and growling fiercely.

Della laughed. "Daddy's quite a bit bigger than you, sweetheart. You might have needle sharp fangs, but Daddy has fangs, too. He wouldn't consider you much of a wrestling opponent, darling."

Hermione growled again.

"Would you like to go to him, sweetheart?" Della asked quietly. "He's an Alpha werewolf with a Pack. There might be others like you who live there."

"What if he's mean to you?" Hermione frowned.

"We'll leave if he's mean to us, darling," Della promised. "But it's probably time you met your Daddy, don't you think?"

Hermione looked thoughtful, twirling some of Della's curls arounds her little claws over and over again.

"Would I have to hide my ears and my tail?" Hermione wanted to know.

"No, darling. You wouldn't have to wear shoes either. The pack are all used to tails and ears and no shoes, I'm sure."

Hermione's eyes lit up at the thought.

"Can we go now?" she asked.

Della shook her head.

"It might be better to wait until tomorrow, darling. After the moon."

"You said I don't have to hide," Hermione protested.

"You don't. But Daddy is a full-blown werewolf, Hermione. He's a wolf right now."

"I wish I could be a wolf," Hermione sighed.

Della smiled gently at her daughter. "Maybe Daddy can teach you how," she offered.

Hermione grinned.

"We should go while the moon is full. Daddy will be tired tomorrow and he won't be as likely to be upset with you if you're there to make him feel better after the moon," Hermione told her.

Della thought about it seriously, frowning for a long moment. Maybe the girl was right. Maybe it would be better to ambush Fenton in the morning, arriving when he wouldn't immediately attack her. Maybe she should go to his cottage and let him see her there. The separation of species for the night would keep him from rutting her, she was sure, and he'd promised that her bite mark meant she'd be safe.

Sighing, nervous about the idea of going to him, but so utterly in need of her mate, Della made a snap decision.

"Alright, sweetheart. We'll go," Della whispered. "Let me get changed and we'll go."

Hermione nodded, bounding off the bed and scampering down the hall to change out of her pyjamas.

"Mummy, will you cut a hole for my tail?" she asked, racing back a few minutes later with a pair of jeans and a jumper on.

"Of course, darling," Della said gently as she dressed in clothing she wouldn't mind seeing shredded by Fenton's claws if he lost his temper with her.

Using her wand, Della carefully created a hole for Hermione to thread her tail through, hemming it carefully with magic. The girl had wrecked many a pair of pants on the full moon by using her claws to make tail-holes and she'd learned that it was better to ask for help than to tear them since she usually tore too hard and shredded the pants completely.

When it was done, Della handed them back to her daughter, surprised that the girl wanted to wear them at all. Usually, this close to the full moon, she didn't like to wear pants. Perhaps the winter chill in the air drove her to it. Hermione threaded her long, fluffy wolf-tail through the hole and pulled the pants into place before buttoning them. Her wolf-ears swivelled back and forth atop her head, almost lost in her messy curls, and Della waited for the girl to turn and look at her before offering her hand.

"Ready, darling?" she asked her daughter.

"You're scared," Hermione told her, stepping closer and curling her arms around Della's waist, breathing in her scent and undoubtedly listening to the rapid hammering of her heart.

"I am," Della said. "It's alright to be scared sometimes, darling."

"Scared of Daddy?" Hermione frowned up at her.

"Just scared of his reaction, sweetheart. It's been a long time since we've seen each other and he's missed out on seeing you for so long."

"If he hurts you, we're leaving, Mummy," Hermione told her resolutely, ever mature for her young age. "I don't care if he is my Daddy and can teach me to be a real wolf. If he hurts my Mummy, I'm going to bite him silly and then we're leaving."

"I love you, Hermione," Della told the little girl, tears prickling her eyes.

"I love you too, Mummy," Hermione grinned toothily at her before cuddling into her more firmly and closing her eyes, waiting to be Apparated.

Della tried to calm her racing heart to little avail, before twisting on the spot and Disapparating with a sharp crack. They landed outside Fenton's cottage in the snow and Della shivered at the frigid temperature amid the deserted village. She could see paw prints littering the snow, telling tales that the pack did still live there, but not a light was lit and not a soul was in sight.

"It's deserted," Della frowned, squinting by moonlight at Fenton's cottage.

"No," Hermione whispered, pulling out of her mother's hold. "It's not."

The girl's eyes glowed in the dark, seeing things that Della couldn't.

"Are the pack close, Hermione?" Della asked, frowning.

"They're watching," Hermione whispered. "Mummy…. I think, maybe…. We should go inside."

She never looked away from something in the dark, her eyes fixed on the woods and Della looked fearfully in that direction before taking Hermione's hand and tugging her up the porch steps of Fenton's small cottage. Inside, the fire was almost out and Della hurried over to it, stoking it up while Hermione locked the door.

"Mummy?" Hermione asked, standing by a window while Della stoked the fire.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

Hermione sniffed slowly. "Is this Daddy's cottage?" she asked.

"Yes," Della nodded. "This is Daddy's cottage. He's out there in the woods."

"Have you ever seen him as a wolf?" Hermione asked softly.

"No, darling."

"Oh… He's um… bigger than I thought he'd be…" Hermione said softly and Della looked over at her daughter when she noted the faintest tremor in the girl's voice.

"Hermione… are you scared?" Della asked her daughter softly.

Hermione tore her eyes from the woods and looked over at her carefully, her little face scrunched up like the word offended her.

"Maybe a little," Hermione whispered truthfully.

Right at that moment a long, triumphant seeming howl sounded from outside and Della almost jumped out of her skin. Hermione tensed and Della watched the urge to howl with the pack crawl down her daughter's spine. She understood it. She felt the same urge though she wasn't a werewolf, and she feared what might come of it if the girl howled with the pack.

"Don't howl, darling," Della whispered, crossing the room quickly and wrapping her arms round Hermione. "Promise me you won't howl."

Outside the pack joined the first lonely howl and the woods seemed to ring with the sound. Della closed her eyes. There were more of them than before. When she'd been here the first time there hadn't been that many.

"Mummy, I have to," Hermione whispered, struggling in her hold.

"Don't," Della said. "Please don't."

But the girl's instincts had overtaken her sense and before Della could stop her, Hermione tore free of her arms and dashed across the cottage, flinging the door wide and racing onto the porch. Standing on the top step, Hermione flung her head back and howled as loudly as she could.

Della's heart was racing inside her chest and she fearfully followed the girl to the porch, peering through the door worriedly, hoping Fenton had been right and that the bite he'd given her to mark her as his mate would protect her from the rabid hunger of the wolves. She scratched at her skin as she stood there, the howling and the scent of Fenton that lingered in the cabin making her predicament worse.

The woods fell silent at Hermione's howl, the wolves surrounding the village all pausing to listen the voice of the intruder in their pack. Della prayed they wouldn't hurt her baby girl. Hermione's howl tapered off and she whimpered softly in the silence that followed. Della held her breath, waiting, wondering if they would attack or if they would accept the daughter of their Alpha.

Gods, what if Fenton was dead and they weren't safe at all? His scent clung to the cabin, and the fire had been burning, so she doubted he was dead, but what if he was? What if he was gone and the wolves were coming for her now?

"Mummy?" Hermione said fearfully, her ears twitching back and forth as she listened to things Della couldn't hear. "Close the door. Lock it. Mummy, get into bed."

"What's wrong, darling?" Della asked, fearfully.

"They're coming," Hermione whispered, looking over her shoulder at her mother with fear glittering in her eyes before she dropped her head back again, howling this time in challenge and defiance, just daring the pack to try and hurt her mother.

Della's heart was in her throat and she almost swallowed her tongue when she heard the heavy sound of rapid paws rushing in their direction. Eyes appeared out of the darkness, glowing yellow and green in the night. Della almost screamed as one pair settled upon her, moving fast, closing the distance between the two of them quickly. Hermione moved to intercept her father, not recognising him for who he was and Della moved to capture the girl before she could get herself killed. She doubted Fenton could or would hurt her, but she didn't want to risk it.

The huge Alpha werewolf sprang onto the porch just as Della snatched her daughter out of his way and pushed her behind herself, forcing her back into the cabin. Hermione growled and clawed at her, wanting to protect her. Della braced once hand in the doorway, holding the girl back and blocking the path of the werewolf as he skidded across the porch toward her. He slid to a stop just short of her face, less than a foot separating them. Della narrowed her eyes, reaching for her courage as the wolf rose to his full height – his glowing eyes level with her own despite her five-foot height.

His hackles rose, baring his teeth at her, his eyes feral and wild, bearing no shred of humanity. Della curled her own lip in retort, listening to Hermione growling behind her. The wolf licked his chops when she snarled at him and Della knew without a doubt that it was him.

Her mate.

"Hello, Fenton," she said quietly, never breaking her stare.

"Daddy?" Hermione asked, peeking around her and ceasing the way she growled so.

Fenton stopped growling too, his eyes widening just a little as they dropped from Della's gaze to peer at the tiny girl peering around her mother's legs.

"Hermione, sweetheart?" Della said softly. "This is your father."

Hermione gulped audibly behind her before sniffing frantically, clawing at Della some more, wanting to get a closer look. Fenton's nose twitched, too, and Della might've smiled at the meeting of father and daughter if not for the way the rest of the pack were slinking closer, converging on them, snarling and growling. She gripped her wand tightly, wanting to fling hexes at them all, though she knew it would do no good.

A low sound from Fenton stilled them, and Della met his eyes once more when the wolf looked at her. She couldn't make out any emotion in them that she would call human, but she could see that he was in control enough not to hurt either of them. He leaned in closer, sniffing her face before emitting a soft sound akin to a whine and Della suspected it was a happy sound. He licked the middle of her forehead when she leaned toward him subconsciously in return and Della's whole body thrummed with need. The trail of his wet nose down her chest and to her stomach made her tremble and she huffed in surprise when he nuzzled her belly, probably picking up on the scent of her desire.

When he nudged her a little harder, nosing her aside, Della realised that she'd been right. Separation of species would keep him off her until morning, and the obvious curiosity he had about his daughter outshone his desire when he nosed Della aside and sniffed inquisitively at Hermione.

"It's alright, Hermione," Della told her softly when Fenton yipped at her, stepping back a little as though inviting her to come out of the doorway so he could see her better. "He won't hurt you."

"He's big," Hermione whispered, peering up at her mother for a moment.

"Show him your tail, darling," Della said quietly.

She peeled the girl off her, nudging her out onto the porch and letting Fenton see their child. Hermione's ears were almost flat against her head, her tail curled between her legs in her fear and Della's heart clenched. Fenton stepped back another step, showing her that he meant no harm, and Hermione's ears twitched.

Slowly, her tail uncurled and she stood before her lycanthropic father with her fully lycanthropic traits on display. Her ears swivelled back and forth, her tail beginning to swish very faintly like it might wag. Her nose twitched, trying to draw in his scent and Della held still as Fenton circled the girl, assessing her from every angle.

When he stopped in front of her once more, Hermione bravely met his gaze, tipping her head back to hold his eyes when he towered over her.

"Hi, Daddy," Hermione said softly, her voice hopeful and curious as her tail began to wag.

Fenton's tail twitched too as he crouched until he was at eye level with the little girl. He darted a glance at Della before looking at Hermione again and Della felt a terrible prickle of shame as his tail began wagging too. He whuffed in Hermione's face, leaning in and licking her between the eyes and on her cheeks. Della felt awful when she realised how happy he was to meet their daughter, knowing it was her fault it had taken so long for them to meet.

Hermione giggled, her hands coming up to card through his thick fur. He licked her again, yipping happily and many of the wolves surrounding the cottage began to yip and bark, too. Their happiness was evident and Della's heart clenched as she watched Hermione cuddle the wolf her father became every full moon.

She nearly jumped out of her skin a second time when Fenton dropped his head back and howled once more, the sound triumphant and happy as it rang through the forest surrounding the village the Pack called home. The pack joined him and Hermione added her voice to the mix. Della's heart stirred and without meaning to she threw her head back and howled too.

When the sound petered out, Fenton crossed the porch with Hermione hanging from his neck and he licked Della's cheek once more, surrendering the girl to her. Della picked up the little true-born lycan girl and cuddled her close. Fenton butted his head against her chest, nudging her back toward the doorway, and Della got the message that though he was pleased to see them, they needed to stay inside where it was warm, rather than being out in the snow with the pack.

He eyed her meaningfully when Della carried their daughter inside and she could tell the gleam in his eyes was a warning that she better still be there in the morning.

"We'll be here," she promised softly. "I'll see you at dawn, Fenton."

He narrowed his eyes but nodded his head, stepping over the threshold and nudging her toward his bed. Della rolled her eyes even as she carried the little girl over to the bed and sat down upon it.

"I want to go with you, Daddy," Hermione said, squirming in Della's arms and reaching for the werewolf.

"It's too cold outside tonight for you, darling," Della told her. "You can see Daddy in the morning, and maybe, if you're good, you'll be able to run with the pack when the weather warms."

"But I'm not cold," Hermione protested, lying. She shivered as she said so and Fenton whuffed at her, nuzzling her hair and nipping her ear very gently in punishment for the falsehood.

"You're cold and you're tired. It's late, darling. Daddy will be here in the morning, I promise," Della assured the girl. "We'll have a nap and by the time we wake up, Daddy will be human and you'll be able to ask him all your questions."

"I do have a lot of questions," Hermione said innocently before a yawn escaped her.

Della laughed softly, peeling back the covers on the bed and tucking Hermione into them when she blinked sleepily. While the girl burrowed down under the covers and closed her eyes, Fenton licked her cheek again and pushed away from the bed, turning feral gold eyes on Della. She held his gaze boldly, aware that he was probably angry with her for all he'd missed, even if he was also pleased to see them.

He growled at her softly when she got off the bed and walked to the door, waiting to close it behind him. Della sighed softly.

"I know you're angry," she told him quietly. "But there's nothing for it, Fenton. We're here now."

He growled again and Della held still when he bared his teeth at her, invading her personal space once more. She narrowed her eyes on him.

"Hurry up," she chided. "It's cold and if you don't get out of here, she'll jump back up with a million questions you can't answer yet. Snarl at me in the morning, Fenton."

He growled at her once more before ducking down in front of her. Della frowned at him. Unsure what he wanted, before she squeaked when he stuck his head under her skirt and burrowed his muzzle between her legs. She squeaked in protest, dancing out of his reach and swatting at him.

"Not when you're all wolf, Fenton," she grumbled when he followed her and licked at her core – knickerless as she was.

He made a little growling sound of contentment, letting her push him away and tugging her skirt back into place. She was painfully aware of the pack watching them and seeming amused by his actions. She would swear by the gleam in his eyes that though he couldn't articulate it, he planned to fuck her silly tomorrow, just as soon as he was human again. Della hated herself just a little when the very thought made her tremble with need.

Fenton padded back out the door looking wickedly amused and he barked at the pack to disperse them while Della watched him. He glanced over his shoulder at her when she slowly pushed the door closed, watching her until the latch clicked and Della turned, pressing her back against the cold wood and trying to think about anything other than the thrumming, aching need between her legs that promised to soon be quenched.