Chapter Text
Chapter One – Moonrise
The night belonged to the moon.
It rose swollen and argent above the forest, spilling silver across the glade in a tide of light. The wards shimmered faintly at the perimeter, quiet traces of ancient craft: runes etched long ago into the bark of oaks, ivy that glowed in threads of green flame where it climbed the trunks, moss beneath the canopy thrumming with a low, enchanted hum. Old magic lay everywhere, gentle yet absolute, cradling the clearing in silence.
The wolf prowled within its circle.
He was no hulking brute but a lithe shadow, all long limbs and stark lines. His flanks were narrow, ribs etched against the silver glow, fur thinned in places where battles had torn through, though what remained caught the moonlight in a lavender sheen, soft as mist.
Amber eyes burned from his angular face, restless and wary, unblinking in the hush. Violence seemed carved into his body, yet when he moved it was with dreadful elegance, as though ruin itself had been reshaped into grace.
At the edge of the glade, another light unfolded.
Moonlight bent into form. Pale hair dissolved into fur, and a hare crouched in the grass, white as frost. Her coat glimmered faintly, her wide eyes luminous as twin moons. From her brow rose antlers, velvet-sheathed and impossible, gleaming like branches rimmed with silver.
The wolf stilled, growl fractured into silence.
The hare stepped forward. Dew scattered from her fur like falling stars. She did not falter, unbowed beneath his shadow. When she reached his chest, her luminous gaze met the amber blaze.
For a heartbeat he loomed above her, ribs heaving, jaws parted in hunger. A sound then tore from his chest, cracked and raw, neither rage nor desire but something deeper, almost breaking. Slowly the wolf folded down, curling himself around her slight form, tail sweeping close to seal her within his body’s hollow.
The hare pressed against his chest. Her nose touched the thin fur above his heart, antlers tangling lightly. What she found was not harshness but unexpected softness — velvet warmth carrying the scent of earth, faint smoke, and the ghost of chocolate lingering.
The Animagus self accepted this without question. Yet the woman within understood: this tenderness was his humanity, buried yet alive, woven into lavender fur and fragile ribs, present in the steadying of his breath as he sank into sleep.
The forest inclined itself.
Moondew lilies unfurled at the edge of the clearing, petals glowing with pale blue light. Flutterby bushes sighed, blossoms bleeding silver to indigo with each pulse of the wards. Even the devil’s snare, restless in its lattice beyond, slackened its coils.
At the treeline, a unicorn lingered.
Its coat shone white as starlight, its mane rippling silver, horn gleaming with quiet radiance. The creature did not turn away. Instead, its gaze fixed on the hare crowned with antlers. Slowly, solemnly, it bowed its head.
The wolf did not stir. He did not devour her. He guarded her.
Moonlight crowned them both as silence sealed the night.