The transformation had been more than just a change in form for Hermione; it had profoundly altered her abilities and her magical core. As she adjusted to her new Lycan identity, she discovered that she had inherited Harry’s remarkable powers. Her physical abilities were now on par with his—superhuman strength, speed, agility, and enhanced senses were at her disposal. The shift was not only physical but also magical.

Hermione’s magical core, once formidable, had been further enhanced by her transformation. She found that she could perform wandless magic with ease, her control over spells strengthened by her new form. Simple spells became almost effortless, a reflection of her Lycan-enhanced power. For more complex and demanding spells, she still required her wand, but the proficiency she displayed with it was extraordinary. Her magical abilities were now intertwined with her Lycan traits, making her a formidable force in both realms.

The bond between Harry and Hermione deepened as they continued their journey together. They spent much of their time in their Lycan forms, finding solace and efficiency in their wolf-like existence. Their travels often took them through the shadowed forests and moonlit landscapes of England. The nights were their domain, and they traversed the land under the cover of darkness, avoiding detection and covering vast distances with their enhanced speed.

Hermione began her Animagus training with renewed vigor. Her transformation into a Lycan had unlocked new possibilities, and she was determined to master her Animagus form. The process was both challenging and exhilarating. Hermione’s natural aptitude for magic made the training somewhat easier, but the added complexity of her Lycan abilities presented new hurdles. She was determined to push through the difficulties, knowing that mastering her Animagus form would be crucial for their journey.

Months of rigorous training culminated in Hermione’s successful transformation into a Direwolf. Her Direwolf form had brown fur and chocolate eyes, a striking and elegant appearance that complemented her enhanced abilities. The transformation was a testament to her perseverance and skill, reflecting her deep commitment to their shared mission and her desire to be an equal partner to Harry.

Harry’s own Direwolf form was a stark contrast. His fur was as black as night, and his green eyes glowed with a fierce intensity. The two Direwolves, one dark and the other brown, roamed together through the night, their bond evident in their synchronized movements and mutual understanding. Their shared form allowed them to communicate non-verbally, their thoughts and feelings conveyed through subtle gestures and expressions.

Their nights were filled with a sense of freedom and adventure. As Direwolves, they could cover great distances and explore areas that would have been inaccessible in their human forms. The quiet of the night was punctuated only by the sounds of the forest, and their enhanced senses allowed them to perceive even the slightest changes in their environment. The connection they felt in their wolf forms was profound, a reflection of their unity and the strength they drew from each other.

Traveling by night also provided practical advantages. The darkness concealed them from prying eyes and allowed them to move swiftly and silently. They often used their heightened senses to detect any threats or obstacles in their path, their keen hearing and smell providing them with valuable information about their surroundings. The nights were their sanctuary, a time when they could escape the dangers of their quest and focus on their journey together.

Their bond as Direwolves went beyond mere companionship. It was a connection forged in the crucible of their experiences, a deep understanding and mutual respect that transcended words. In their wolf forms, they were more than just partners; they were a single, cohesive unit, their actions and thoughts perfectly aligned. The challenges they faced had only strengthened their connection, and their shared abilities made them an unstoppable force.

As they traveled through the moonlit landscapes, Hermione and Harry often took moments to reflect on their journey. They discussed their progress, their plans for the future, and the challenges they had overcome. The night was a time for introspection and planning, and their conversations were filled with a sense of purpose and determination.

Despite the hardships they faced, their love and commitment to each other remained unwavering. The bond they shared was a source of strength and solace, a reminder of the love that had brought them together and the future they hoped to build. Their journey was far from over, but with their newfound abilities and their unbreakable connection, they were prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

In the quiet of the night, surrounded by the beauty of the moonlit forest, Hermione and Harry found a sense of peace and fulfillment. Their transformation had not only altered their physical forms but had also solidified their bond and their commitment to their mission. As Direwolves, they were more than just allies—they were a symbol of the strength and unity that had carried them through their journey.

The night was a time for renewal and reflection, a reminder of the power of their love and the strength they found in each other. As they continued their quest, Hermione and Harry knew that they were not alone. Their bond, forged in the shadows and strengthened by their shared experiences, would guide them through the trials ahead and lead them to the future they sought.

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The moment the Death Eaters leaked the news that Harry Potter had been bitten by Fenrir Greyback, the entire wizarding world erupted in chaos. It was a well-known fact that Greyback didn’t just bite for sport—he bit to curse. To the public, there was no doubt about it: The Boy Who Lived had turned into a regular werewolf. It was a narrative they readily accepted, not needing proof beyond the rumors that had taken root.

Harry stood by the window of the small, hidden cabin where he and Hermione had been staying, staring out at the dense forest that surrounded them. The moonlight filtered through the branches, casting long shadows on the ground, much like the ones that now hovered over his life. His reflection in the glass showed not the boy who had once been hailed as the savior of the wizarding world but a man who had been rejected by the very people he had fought for.

"They were always going to turn on me eventually," he muttered, the bitterness seeping into his voice. "I was only their hero when they needed me. Now... now I’m just a threat."

Hermione glanced up from the table where she was pouring over an old text, her brow furrowed. "You’re not a threat, Harry. They just don’t understand what you’ve become. And you’ve never given them a reason to believe otherwise."

He turned to face her, his expression hard. "I don’t need to correct them, Hermione. Let them think what they want. They’ve made up their minds already."

The silence that followed was heavy. Hermione closed her book and stood, walking over to him. "But you’ve never been a regular werewolf. They have no idea what you are... what we are."

Harry’s gaze softened as he looked at her. She had been his rock through everything, and while the world had turned its back on him, she had remained by his side, unwavering in her loyalty and love. And yet, unlike him, Hermione’s status in the wizarding world remained intact. No one knew the truth about her transformation, and for that, Harry was grateful.

"They don't need to know," Harry said quietly. "The fact that they think I'm a werewolf is enough for them to shun me. But you... you still have your life, your reputation. You're still respected, and that’s what matters."

Hermione’s eyes flashed with frustration. "It matters because it’s based on a lie! The only reason I’m still in good standing with the Ministry, the only reason I still get those awards and invitations, is because they don’t know what I’ve become. They don’t know that I’m just like you, Harry."

"That’s exactly why we keep it that way," Harry replied firmly. "If they knew you were a Lycan too, they’d strip you of everything. You’d be cast aside like me, and I won’t let that happen."

Hermione crossed her arms, glaring at him. "I don't care about the Ministry or their awards. I care about you. And it infuriates me that they treat you like you're less than human."

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It’s not just me they fear, it’s what I represent. The moment I was bitten, I stopped being their hero. Now, I’m a walking reminder of the dangers they think they’ve beaten. It’s easier for them to paint me as a monster than to admit that I’m still the same person."

The memories of how quickly things had changed after the rumors spread flooded his mind. The wizarding world had turned its back on him almost overnight. The Daily Prophet had gone from praising him as the Chosen One to publishing scathing articles about how his "condition" made him dangerous, unpredictable, and unfit to be a part of their society.

"It wasn’t long after the Battle of Hogwarts when the stories started," Harry continued, his voice distant as he recalled the events. "The Death Eaters saw Greyback bite me. They probably assumed I’d become just like him—another weapon for their side."

"Except they didn’t count on you surviving and keeping your humanity," Hermione added softly.

"Exactly," Harry nodded. "And those who saw me in my Lycan form... well, let’s just say they didn’t live long enough to spread the truth."

Hermione winced at the reminder. The truth was, Harry’s Lycan form was far more powerful than any ordinary werewolf, and the rare times he had been forced to shift in battle had left no survivors among his enemies. But even with that power, he had never succumbed to the savage nature of a traditional werewolf. He had maintained control, kept his humanity intact, but the wizarding world didn’t know that. And Harry didn’t feel the need to correct them.

Hermione stepped closer, her hand resting on his arm. "But you could tell them the truth, Harry. You could show them what you are, and how different you are from the monsters they fear."

"And what good would that do?" he asked, shaking his head. "They’ve already made up their minds. They don’t want to see the truth, Hermione. They’re afraid of what they don’t understand, and it’s easier for them to reject me than to try and figure it out."

He could still remember the first time he had seen the fear in someone’s eyes. It had been at a wizarding gathering, shortly after the news of his supposed lycanthropy had spread. People who had once looked at him with admiration now averted their eyes, whispered behind his back, and moved away when he walked past.

"It doesn’t bother me anymore," Harry said, though there was a flicker of sadness in his voice. "I’m used to it now. The prejudices they have... it’s not something that just appeared overnight. It’s ingrained in them. They’ve grown up hearing stories about werewolves, about how dangerous they are, how they can’t be trusted. It’s impossible for them to overcome that. Not when they think I’m one of them."

Hermione’s hand tightened on his arm. "But you’re not one of them. You’re different, Harry. And I hate that you have to carry this burden alone."

Harry gave her a small, reassuring smile. "I’m not alone. I have you. That’s all that matters."

Hermione’s expression softened, but the frustration in her eyes remained. "I just wish they could see you the way I do. I wish they understood what you’ve done for them."

"They won’t," Harry replied simply. "But that’s alright. I didn’t do any of it for them. I did it for the people I care about. For you."

Hermione leaned into him, resting her head on his chest. "And I’ll always stand by you, Harry. No matter what."

They stood there in silence for a moment, wrapped in each other’s presence, as the weight of the world outside seemed to fall away. In this small, hidden corner of the world, they were safe from the judgments and fears that plagued the wizarding community.

But even here, the truth of their situation lingered. Hermione had never been exposed as a Lycan. She still had access to the Ministry, to the recognition and accolades she deserved for her role in the defeat of Voldemort. She received awards, invitations to important events, and continued to be seen as the brilliant witch who had helped save the world. And Harry was grateful for that.

Harry knew that Hermione’s silence about her true nature allowed her to continue her work, but it also meant that he carried the weight of their secret alone. He had become the scapegoat, the one cast out by society, while Hermione remained in the world that had turned its back on him.

And though she stood by his side, unwavering in her love and loyalty, the divide between them and the rest of the wizarding world grew wider with each passing day.