A/N: *Skulks by, dropping the chapter in your picnic basket*

*Leaves a trail of hot werewolf photos in her wake*

xx-Kitten.

Where The Wild Things Are

By Kittenshift17

Chapter Two

Hermione packed lightly for the trip, intending to stay no longer than a week in Uilebheist Fearann. If she hadn't captured the hybrid she'd been sent after within one week, she was out of there, position with the Ministry be damned. Well-armed with her wand, and number of specimen cages, enough medical supplies to heal a small army, and enough weapons and food to keep her and the five men travelling with her alive, Hermione was prepared for anything, and she was determined that no matter what, all six of them would be making it out of there alive.

There would be no repeats of last time's mistakes.

When dawn broke, Hermione apparated to the Ministry, hurrying with her pack as she made her way into the office. Inside, five men were already waiting, and Hermione frowned, not recognizing a single one of them. When she spotted Skasgard handing out extra cages and extra supplies, she hurried over to him.

"What is this?" she demanded. "Your sending green recruits with me? Who the hell are these guys Aibek?"

She hadn't had her coffee yet and she was in no mood for being polite to others, even if this man did happen to be her boss.

"They're not DRCMC," he informed her. "These guys are special forces, a sub-division of the MLE specializing in magical creatures."

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"I've never heard of them," she sniffed.

"And you never will again," Skasgard smirked. "Top secret, these lads are. Keeps people from thinking they can aim for their job. These guys are hand-picked, and they're the best for the position. They'll get you into Monster Land and keep you safe for as long as you're there. Just… play nice with them, Granger. They're there to protect you, so let them do their job, alright?"

"If any one of them gets in my way when I'm trying to capture specimens, I reserve the right to hex them," Hermione snapped, not at all liking the idea of venturing into the wilderness with five men she didn't know.

It fleetingly crossed her mind that they might all be monsters who'd brutalise her, but she pushed the thought out of her head. The Ministry wouldn't hire rapists, she was sure.

"I'm sure they'll be happy to defer to your command," Skasgard said, smirking just a little and shooting a wink at one of the men, who gave a low and gravelly sort of chuckle as though they shared a private joke.

Hermione didn't like that either, but she chose not to say anything.

"One week," she warned Skasgard. "I'll be gone one week and if I haven't found any evidence of this ridiculous hybrid in that time, I'm leaving Uilebhesit Fearann and then I'm coming right back here and taking your job, Skasgard. Got it?"

"Sure, Granger," he said, rolling his eyes.

Hermione bared her teeth at him in frustration and she blinked in surprised when he returned the gesture, baring his teeth at her like a mongrel and surprising her with the display.

"Right," he snarled, narrowing his eyes on her in annoyance as though she was to blame for his undignified actions. "You lot, move out. You have your orders and you will follow them. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," the five men replied simultaneously.

Hermione didn't like that either.

"Good. Then get lost. And Granger?" Skasgard asked when one of the men moved over and put a hand on her shoulder, apparently intending to apparate her to Monster Land himself.

"Yes?" Hermione asked.

Skasgard grinned in a way that made every hair on her body stand on end with sudden paranoia.

"Have fun, gaelai," he said just before an uncomfortable jerk behind her navel signaled the apparation had begun and she was sucked away and into the last primitive, monster filled hell-hole known to wizarding Britain.

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

When they landed Hermione stumbled, feeling like she'd been sucked through a vacuum and spat at with all of her bits in the wrong order.

"Alright there, Granger?" the man who'd apparated her asked.

"I… yes," Hermione said, shoving a fistful of her curls out of her face and scrambling onto her feet. "Right. You lot. Names, please? Or am I to give you numbers for the length of this expedition?"

They all shared a loaded glance and Hermione didn't like it one bit.

"Frankston, Strand, Bellby, Fortknock, and Hallgath," the one who'd apparated her said, pointing at the others of the group in turn, before pointing to himself last.

"Right," Hermione muttered, shaking her head at their provision of only their surnames. "Well, I'm Hermione Granger."

"We know," that said simultaneously, and Hermione started to feel just a little bit nervous.

"Come on," Hallgath said. "We're burning daylight and we've got a lot of ground to cover before we're even remotely near the site of the last hybrid sighting."

Hermione nodded, turning to face the thickly treed forest before them and realising the shimmer in the air wasn't a trick of the early morning light, but was actually the wards protecting this part of the world and ensuring that none who ventured too close could cross it without assistance.

"You'll need to be escorted across, Granger," Hallgath told her, circling around behind her and putting his hands on the tops of her shoulders. "Walk, witch."

Hermione didn't like how bossy he was being when she was supposed to be the one leading the mission. But she'd never been to Uilebheist before, and these men clearly had, so for now she would defer to their skill.

"We can just step right through?" she asked, frowning and peering over her shoulder at the man.

She noticed idly that he had a rather fierce visage, his face bearing a nasty-looking scar that ran across his right cheek and down his neck. It looked like claw-marks. His eyes were unnaturally bright too, a rich shade of hazel green and Hermione felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when it occurred to her that Hallgath was a werewolf.

Were they all werewolves?

Why would Skasgard send her on a trip with a fully lycanthropic team? Why did the Ministry even have a lycanthropic team of any kind? Her research during her years of study with the DRCMC had taught her that while most of the text books had their facts about werewolves wrong, it was undeniable that one fact was correct. And that fact was that when more than three werewolves were in the same vicinity, they would immediately build a pack hierarchy, no matter their personal distaste for one another. It was the nature of the wolf to seek out a hierarchy and to band together. Being trapped alone in the wilderness with five of them was not a comforting thought.

"There are wards that will prevent you from stepping through unless I escort you," Hallgath replied evenly, confirming to Hermione that he was a magical creature and not purely a wizard.

"How peculiar," Hermione said, wondering if these men had heard about how clever she was, and whether she might be able to fool them into thinking her silly.

It would play to her advantage if she could. She needed to get away from them immediately, but showing fear or seeming untrusting would be very unwise. Especially since Hallgath currently had hold of her.

"It's all in the training, Granger," Frankston piped up, and Hermione traced her eyes over him, noting the flash of a claw-mark scar on the back of his left forearm and the wiry quality of the muscle moving under his skin.

Yes, she realized. He was a werewolf, too.

They all were. That much was clear as she traced her eyes over each man in turned, watching the way – when they reached the barrier of the wards protecting the patch of the world deemed Monster Land – each and every one of them shuddered and gritted their teeth as though crossing was painful.

"Will it hurt to cross?" Hermione asked, looking over her shoulder at Hallgath once more when the other four men had gone ahead of them.

"A bit," he nodded. "Feels a bit like being zapped with a Stunning spell, but not so sharp as the Curciatus."

Hermione nodded, biting her lip and wondering if he knew his answers were giving more and more away about his background. She hadn't become third in line for the DRCMC leadership role by being foolish, and she hadn't passed Auror training alongside Harry and Ron by being unobservant.

"Been here many times, have you, Hallgath?" Hermione asked of the wizard when he pushed her none-too-gently toward the barrier, apparently intent on shoving her through without letting go of her. She wondered what might happen to her if she tried to cross without being touched by a magical creature.

"It's like a second home," Hallgath said, and Hermione noticed that the other four all turned and smirked in their direction for the statement.

Oh, that didn't bode well. Hermione had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that these men weren't affiliated with the Ministry at all and she wondered if Skasgard knew just what sort of men he had sent her off with. She was distracted by the pain of crossing the wards, her legs trembling and every cell in her body screaming in protest. When she'd been pushed all the way through – Hallgath having to bodily shove her along to keep her moving when her knees almost gave out – Hermione fell to the ground, panting and trying to catch her breath and to think straight again.

She didn't like being so vulnerable, and she didn't like knowing that, unlike her, the five werewolves escorting her were not so badly affected as she was. Scratching viciously at the scar on the side of her neck which, she was sure, had led to her insatiable curiosity about the lycanthrope condition in the first place and might very well have gotten her into this mess, Hermione realized that not only was she was in the most hostile place on Earth, but she was also surrounded by men who could turn into savage beasts every full moon, and she was in their midst because her supervisor had shipped her off to the middle of nowhere with them. She was essentially alone, she realized.

Skasgard was either an idiot – which she very much doubted – or he was in league with these wolves. And she was thinking that whoever he answered to was someone she did not want to tangle with.

"You alright there, Miss?" the werewolf who'd been introduced as Bellby asked, reaching down and putting a heavy hand on her shoulder.

Hermione could feel the prickle of claws tipping his fingers and she panted, keeping her head hanging low for a minute and feigning a weakness that was rapidly receding.

"I wasn't… expecting… it to hurt… quite so much," she panted, aware that she was milking it, but desperately needing a minute to think.

"Aye, it's a bit of a sting the first time you cross-over, I'll grant," Bellby said, and Hermione's skin crawled when he traced what he must think was a comforting circle over her back. "Let's get you back on your feet, eh, Miss? Don't want to be looking weak and vulnerable on the ground in a place like this. You never know what kind of hungry critter is watching and licking his chops."

"I just need a minute," Hermione said, nodding. "I think my knees have turned to pudding."

Hallgath chuckled and Hermione heard more than saw the way Frnakston leaned over to Hallgath and whispered in his ear.

"Are you sure this is the one the boss said was his?" Frankston whispered. "She shouldn't be this weak."

Hermione dragged herself to her feet, letting Bellby assist her as much as he liked and noticing that for all that he'd been trying to help her, he kept his hands in only the most appropriate of places on her person to help her up.

"Thank you, Bellby," Hermione said, smiling kindly at the man and noticing that he wasn't even trying to hide the traits that gave him away for a werewolf. His eyes glittered a shade of greenish-yellow that was unnatural in humans or even wizards, and his hands were still tipped with claws that tapered to long, sharp points.

"No worries, Miss," Bellby grinned and Hermione realized suddenly that he was very young, perhaps only in his late teens or early twenties. No more than twenty-one, at most. "S'our job to see that you're looked after, eh?"

Unfortunately for him, it would be his undoing

"That's very kind of you, Bellby," Hermione said, pulling her want from the sleeve of her cloak whilst still leaning against him just a little, one hand clutching his upper arm. She continued to smile, dazzling the young werewolf it seemed, because he didn't see the blast coming when Hermione dug her wand tip into his chest.

"Protego Maxima!" she murmured, still smiling even as the shielding spell generated a wave of violent magic that forced all five werewolves away from her, sending them flying through the air one way while she was blasted back in the opposite direction.

She stumbled just a bit when she landed, twisting her ankle, but Hermione didn't let that stop her before she Disapparated with a sharp crack, thinking only of getting as far from these werewolves as possible.