There were two rules every student at Hogwarts knew. Never challenge an Alpha. And never ask about the Blood Moon. The first rule was easy enough to follow. The second was impossible. Every hundred years, whispers spread through the castle like wildfire. Portraits seemed to listen a little closer. Professors grew strangely quiet whenever students mentioned the coming moon. Even the ghosts refused to speak of it for long. Because the Blood Moon did not simply light the night sky. It chose destinies. Every witch and wizard carried an inner wolf, one that awakened as they grew older. Some wolves were timid, others fierce, but all belonged to a pack. And at the top of every pack stood an Alpha. This generation had five. Mattheo Riddle. Theodore Nott. Blaise Zabini. Draco Malfoy. Tom Riddle. Five names that could silence an entire corridor with nothing more than their presence. They ruled Hogwarts without titles, crowns, or votes. Respect wasn’t requested. It was instinct. Students stepped aside as they passed. Conversations stopped. Even professors thought twice before interrupting them. Rumors followed them everywhere—about the strength of their wolves, their impossible abilities, and the way no one had ever managed to earn their complete trust. No one knew the truth. No one knew they could hear every thought that drifted through the halls. Every lie. Every insult. Every hidden secret. It was exhausting. The constant noise of thousands of minds was enough to drive anyone mad, so the five Alphas stayed close only to those they trusted. A small circle. An unbreakable one. Pansy Parkinson. Astoria Greengrass. Daphne Greengrass. And Y/N. Y/N, who laughed loud enough to drown out the thoughts they wished they couldn’t hear. Y/N, who treated fi