As promised, a little something I came up with. Remus is such a wonderful character, and I have really enjoyed writing for him. One day, I will probably give him a longer tale, worthier of him. But for now, I hope this satisfies ...
I have a banner for this story. There is a link on my profile page. I've also put up links for many other banners I've made for my stories. Also, if you are not aware, I updated Sense of Taste recently, and will be continuing to post regularly on it for a while.
So - all you need to know is - Remus and Tonks did not die in the war, but apart from that, things are much the same. He is married to Tonks, and they have young Teddy. Hermione is living with Ron, but they are not engaged yet. I suppose this takes place two or three years after the war.
As ever, I hope (with the exception of two main characters surviving who did not survive!) that I write a story which could feasibly happen in JKR's universe. Remus and Hermione always seemed to have a special bond. That is what led to this.
"Remus!"
Hermione could not hide her expression of surprise completely as she answered the door late one Tuesday evening.
"Hermione. Hi."
The wizard leaned against her door frame, his head lowered a little, looking at her awkwardly through his lashes. The sight of him was so unexpected that a sense of panic rose quickly in Hermione.
"Are you alright? What's the matter? Is Tonks OK? Teddy?"
Her look of clear anxiety brought a slight smile to Remus' face. "No, no, they're fine. I thought I'd just pop over to ... say hello."
"Oh. OK." Hermione smiled, still bewildered. "Ron's not in I'm afraid. He's away training for a few days with Harry. In fact ... I thought Tonks was supposed to be with them?" Hermione's confusion was growing. Surely he knew Ron wouldn't be in tonight?
"Yes, that's right, she is. I just thought ... it would be nice to catch up with you for a change."
Hermione smiled mildly at him, before realising she had not yet actually let him into the flat. "Sorry, Remus." She came to her senses, her need to provide hospitality allowing her to forget the late hour. "Come in. You're in luck - I've just opened a bottle. Now I won't have to feel guilty about finishing it myself!" She walked swiftly through the house to the kitchen, laughing over her shoulder. He watched her retreating form carefully before shutting the door silently behind him.
She and Ron had been living together in the ground floor flat of the elegant Georgian house for half a year. They had discussed marriage, but it was Hermione who had resisted, declaring that she was much too young to think about such a thing. Ron, to give him his due, had respected her wishes and not mentioned it again. Ron was often away. She did not mind especially. She appreciated having the time to lead her life as she wished. And tonight, the unexpected surprise of seeing one of her dearest friends filled her with a sudden rush of happiness.
Remus followed her into the kitchen. "Sit down." Hermione poured another glass, topped up her own and sat down opposite him at the table. Remus pulled out the chair and slumped into it.
"You look weary." She pushed the glass towards him with a smile.
"Yes. Long day. It's good to see you though."
"Where's Teddy?"
"He's at my mother's. He tends to go there when Dora's away. Mother dotes on him and it means that I can have a bit of time to myself, you know ..." He finished with a faint sigh.
Hermione smiled, but averted her gaze and looked into her glass. She didn't imagine the same rules applied when it was Tonks on her own with their son.
"There's nothing as exhausting as having a young child. And when you have a busy life as an Auror too ... I can imagine it can be tough. You're lucky to have your mother to help out."
"I know."
She smiled gently, although was still not entirely sure why he had come over. Hermione glanced at him. He was looking at her intently from under his long eyelashes, his head slightly lowered. When she met his eyes, he dropped his gaze with a faint smile, and took another sip of wine. There was a moment's silence.
"Remus. Is everything alright?" Hermione frowned with tender concern.
He looked at her, his eyebrows raised as if surprised. "How do you mean?"
"Well, I'm not sure." She hesitated. But this was her friend. His wife was her friend. If he had come round to talk, there seemed little point in not clearing the air. "I suppose I mean ... between you and Tonks."
Remus drew himself up suddenly and spoke with overly firm conviction. "Yes, yes, fine, fine, of course."
Hermione dropped her head again. The man opposite laughed a little in embarrassment. But his laugh died away abruptly and a heavy silence followed it.
"Actually, I don't think it is."
At that moment, his words did not surprise her. What did surprise her was the lack of dismay she felt; the neutrality of her emotions was stark. Hermione looked up at him and waited.
Remus' hand held the glass, his fingers tracing along the rim. He stared hard at it and drew in a deep breath.
"I don't know. I just ... It's been tough with Teddy. She's so absorbed in him, and then there's her work as well. I just ... seem to have forgotten what she used to be like. She seems to have forgotten what she used to be like ... what we used to be." The significance of his words was more wistful than his tone of voice.
Hermione waited a moment. He did not speak again. "These are all normal reactions after a baby arrives. Nothing is going to be as it was. I know the father often feels left out. You have to forge out your own role within the new dynamic as well. It takes time. But, a woman's instincts naturally lie with providing the best for her child. You need to respect that. I know you do. It may seem that she has forgotten about you, but she hasn't. It just takes a while to adjust."
He smiled, still staring at his glass. "Good old Hermione. Ever the voice of reason."
She flushed with a combination of embarrassment and annoyance. "Don't say that."
"I meant it as a compliment."
She shook it off. "Yeah, well, there's more to me than calm pragmatism."
"Oh ... I know that."
She looked up at him, surprised at his smooth personal tone. He was staring hard at her again and did not drop his gaze. She had never seen such rich brown eyes, such long, long lashes. They had always been there – had it not occurred to her before?
Hermione was aware she had been looking at him for longer than she should. For something to do, she reached over and filled up his glass. He held it for her. Her fingers inadvertently brushed against his. Her breath caught silently.
"Thank you." Remus smiled deeply. She at last looked away. He sighed and took a long drink, leaning forward onto the table, his voice suddenly more animated. "I don't know. I adore them both, it's just ... life is very different now, and sometimes ... just sometimes ... I want ... no, I yearn ... for what was ... I almost miss it – the danger, the adventure we all used to have. Don't you?"
His body was now tensed, his eyes alight. The sleeve of his shirt was rolled up to the elbow and Hermione could see the taut muscles straining along his forearm; a dark vein throbbed within.
She frowned. "Well, I know what you mean ... I suppose I do, but ... I envy what you have now. You mustn't forget how wonderful it is just to have survived, Remus."
"Is that enough?"
"After what we went through, surely it is."
"Is that what you're doing, Hermione, just ... surviving, just existing? Is that what you're doing with Ron?" His tone was hard, almost confrontational.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean ..." He was reaching a tense arm ever further across the table. "... is he enough for you?"
She did not reply, merely looked at him, a frown on her forehead. His eyes burned into hers.
"Remus ... why are you here?"
"I wanted to see you."
Hermione could sense the shift. She was no fool. But equally, it was not with fear of what Remus would do that she then stood, but fear of herself. She knew her resolve was not as strong as it should be. She rose and made to walk out of the room, her mind whirling. He caught her wrist as she walked past and held her there. "Where are you going?"
Hermione pulled herself politely but firmly out of his grasp. She was not sure what she was doing, but knew she could not stay in the atmosphere of the kitchen any longer. "I don't know ... It's late, perhaps I should go to bed."
There was a moment's silence. Then, with a sudden sigh, the man beside her slackened, his voice reassuringly normal again. "Finish the bottle at least. Come on. We'll go into the living room." With that he stood and picked up the bottle and both their glasses, leading the way before her. Hermione stared at his retreating form, but at length found her legs carrying her after him.
Remus stood in her newly refurbished living room, turning on low lights and lighting candles. "You've done this room beautifully. I know how much time you spent on it. Just perfect. It sums you up."
Hermione sank into the sofa, unable to prevent a glow rising through her at his compliment. It was true. She had single-handedly redecorated the room a month or so ago. Ron had done less than nothing. Hermione watched as Remus lit the last candles with his wand. The room flickered with the warm light of the flames.
Remus tucked his wand away and came and sat directly beside her. He smelt of forests, forests after a heavy summer rain. She should have moved up, away from him. She did not.
"I'm sorry to be so miserable. It's also ... with Teddy ... I still worry."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, about my ... situation."
"You know that just isn't an issue. You and Tonks are ridiculously sensible about it. As long as you are far from him and restrained at the full moon, you have nothing to worry about at all. You will always ensure that that is the case. And we are your backup."
Ron, Harry or Hermione would personally check Remus was carefully restrained during the full moon, after he had locked himself away under Tonks' supervision. It was virtually impossible to get wrong.
"But ... I still worry that it will reveal itself to him at other times, inadvertently. I don't know. I'm very quick to temper these days, I've noticed."
"You're tired. You work too hard. It happens to us all. God, I've been a complete bitch to Ron recently when I've been busy."
He looked curiously at her. She smiled and lowered her eyes.
"You spoke this way before, even before Teddy was born. You came over to Grimmauld Place. You were really worried, distressed. You'd sort of ... run away from it."
His eyes glazed over with the memory. "I remember. Harry was ... not impressed."
"No. That was not a pleasant time." But she then turned to him with renewed optimism. "But ... it's all been alright, hasn't it, Remus?"
He did not answer, and looked at her with unnerving seriousness. She took another drink. After a while he sighed, seeming to relax again.
"I've known you a long time now, Hermione."
"Since I was fourteen."
"Seven years?! Longer than I realised." He smiled deeply at her. "You made quite an impression, even then. The brightest witch of your age."
Hermione rolled her eyes before smirking at him. "I got the feeling you rather resented me for that."
"Me? Gods, no. Why should I have done that? I remember thinking what a wonderful partner you'd make for some lucky wizard one day."
"One day ..." she repeated wistfully.
Silence descended upon them.
"Don't rush into anything with Ron."
She turned to him sharply. "I'm not. Why would I do that?"
He smiled. Hermione allowed her tension to wash away. His smile reminded her of the first moments she had known him.
"You were a wonderful teacher. It was such a shame you couldn't have continued. The best DADA teacher we ever had." The wine had further numbed Hermione's judgement of what was appropriate. She laughed a little and dropped her head. "I suppose I had a bit of a crush on you."
"Me!?"
"Yes. Don't sound so surprised. Why is that so hard to believe?"
He shrugged, smiling instead. "I'm deeply flattered."
"Flattered?"
"Of course. A beautiful and brilliant young woman confessing to harbouring secret fantasies about me ..." His voice trailed off low and smooth. Hermione hadn't quite expressed it like that, but he had hit the nail on the head. She blushed.
"Especially you, Hermione. You could have your pick of any man you wanted."
"Hardly." She pushed a lock of hair around her ear in embarrassment.
"Of course you could," he smiled, taking another drink of wine, the smile then fading. "And you end up with ... Ronald Weasley." He spoke the name with faintly disguised incredulity, staring into his glass before downing some more.
Hermione looked at him sharply, trying to summon up some indignation. "Don't say it like that." Her words lacked the force she had been aiming for.
He did not reply, but turned to her again with that same melting smile. "Hermione ..." The hand holding his glass came up and he extended the forefinger, lightly placing it on her cheek and stroking down a fraction. She did not pull back. His fingers were so warm. "Such soft skin. I always wanted to touch it, feel its vitality." She swallowed hard. His fingertip stroked ever so slightly down her cheek. It felt so good. Don't stop. She felt her breathing grow heavier. But suddenly, with another wry smile, he allowed his hand to drop. His voice became even again. "Did you still like me after you found out about my little ... predicament?"
She inhaled and turned to him with conviction. "Yes. Of course. I was the first to realise it. It didn't change my opinion of you in the slightest. In fact, it made me care even more."
"Even when I almost killed you?"
"But that wasn't you ... it isn't you, when it happens. We all know that."
"You know that. I know you do. You, more than anyone, just ... accept it ... no apprehension, no pity, just acceptance. Even Dora's not like that ... I sometimes think she feels it gives her some control over me, a reason for me to be beholden to her. It makes her feel needed."
Hermione opened her mouth to disagree. No words came out. She turned her eyes to him. He was staring hard at her again, his eyes glowing in the candlelight. She adored him so much, as a teacher, a friend, a mentor. He sat beside her now, so warm and so real. They had always been close, and yet had rarely found themselves alone together to talk deeply. Staring at him now, she was fully aware of the significance of not dropping her eyes, and remembered his finger on her skin. It had felt so warm.
"There's always a little of him in me, Hermione." His voice was soft, as if imparting a deep secret to her. "Always ... deep inside. I can't get rid of that."
"I know that. We all know that ... that's why we love you." Still his eyes remained staring into hers.
She was breathing ever more rapidly now.
"Hermione ..." he murmured. A curl of hair fell over his eyes.
Without thinking, instinctively, Hermione reached up a hand and pushed it off his face, curling it around his ear.
His hand caught her wrist, holding it there. She froze. But she did not pull it away. His eyes held hers, searching them. Still he held her wrist. His thumb moved over the delicate inner flesh.
His fingers were as warm as they had been earlier. She frowned a little in bewilderment.
Still she did not draw her hand back. He pulled it instead, not taking his eyes from hers, up, towards him. Turning that same tender underside towards him, he lowered his mouth towards it. Hermione could not look away from his large brown eyes, but she knew his lips were descending. She did not want him to stop. He did not. His lips, warm and firm, pressed against her wrist, softly at first, but with growing intensity.
Hermione exhaled.
"Don't do that." Her words lacked any conviction. He was kissing her inner wrist ardently now, his lips rubbing over it with delicious sensuality.
Then his free hand rose up and curled around her neck, not hard, but unquestioningly. She was being pulled into him. She allowed it to happen. She wanted it to.
He moved his head, slowly, staring at her lips, closer and closer until they touched.
It was a tender kiss; innocent, chaste. They pulled apart. Hermione looked deep into his eyes. It could be explained away as a moment of lonely affection between close friends. For a moment, that was how it remained. Only for a moment.
And then they were back into each other, hard and desperate. She met his lips brutally; he forced her mouth open with his teeth, thrusting his tongue in urgently, possessing her, absorbing all she was.
Remus' hands came up hard around her head, digging into her scalp, angling her to open for him more. She did so without hesitation. Her mind screamed at her to stop; but she knew she would not.
His mouth eventually tore itself from hers and travelled down hungrily, devouring the milky flesh of her throat. He moaned against her silken skin. "Hermione, my beautiful, brilliant Hermione. At last, at last."
She felt a strong, hot hand searching over her belly, down coming to rest between her thighs where the fingers moved urgently over her sex, rubbing with frustration through the thick material of her jeans.
"Stop. You must stop doing that." His mouth was at her neck again. She bared it for him, breathing out long. "We don't really want this."
"Yes, we do." His voice vibrated against the soft skin of her throat.
And indeed, despite her words, her hand told another story, as it moved over his, pressing it ever harder against her.
With a grunt of need, Remus reached up to her shirt and pulled it apart roughly, sending several buttons flying off. He groaned aloud as her pert breasts revealed themselves, clad only in the thin lace of her bra.
"So beautiful, Hermione. I've wanted this for longer than I dare admit." His voice was thick with gruff desire.
Hermione could not stop her body's actions. She shrugged off her top, pulling her bra straps off her shoulders. Still, she tried to fight back with words. "This is madness, Remus, for god's sake, what are we doing?"
"Shh, my sweet, don't think ... that was always your problem ... you thought too much." He smirked. She felt his fingers undoing her bra clasp quickly. The garment fell from her, and with it his eyes followed. He exhaled audibly at the sight before him.
Tenderly, reverently almost, he reached out his hands and cupped a breast in each. His thumbs came up and rubbed over the nipples, softly and gently. Hermione moaned, her head falling back. Instinctively her hands came up to his head and, almost in a maternal gesture, she pulled his head down, down, until she had brought his mouth to a nipple. With a final groan of longing, Remus' mouth opened and he enclosed it tight around the taut, pink bud. And there he stayed, sucking, nuzzling, nibbling; the soft sounds of his contentment the only noise in the heavy air between them. Hermione enjoyed it as much as he, and for the moment, needed no more. She stroked his unruly hair slowly, as he moved from one breast to the other, drawing up each nipple in turn to a hardened peak.
"We must stop now." Her words were soft. He at last moved away from her breasts.
"OK," he murmured, coming up to recapture her mouth, kissing her so deliciously she thought she had melted into him.
His hand was down. She heard the chink of metal, the slide of leather. Something loosened around her waist. He had undone her belt.
"Stand up," he muttered. She did so instantly. He quickly undid the buttons of her jeans, and pushed them down her legs, sucking in a breath as her small black knickers were revealed to him. She stepped out of the jeans and kicked them smoothly to the side.
Remus slid down to his knees before her, his fingers curling into the sides of her knickers.
"Seriously, Remus, this is crazy. What the hell are we doing?"
He ignored her. She ignored her. His hands moved her underwear down towards her knees and he pushed her down to sit once again, quickly kneeling before her. His face was mere inches from his goal. Remus fixed his eyes on the sight before him, and tugged her knickers off completely. She parted her legs immediately.
"Yes, at last, so beautiful."
For a time, he could only stare, holding her legs reverently as he took all of her in.
His hands were at the apex of her thighs, pushing them ever further apart. Hermione sucked in a breath and held it. Long, warm fingers touched her folds and parted her. And then his head descended, and with a long slow sweep of his tongue, he licked along her from bottom to top.
Hermione's head fell back and she released her breath, long and slow.
Remus groaned against her. "Gods, you taste delicious. Delicious perfection, witch."
"Do that again."
He did, before setting about licking, sucking and pulling her pleasure from her with ardent skill. Two fingers were pushed deep inside her, while his tongue continued to apply delicious pressure to her swollen clit.
Ron was forgotten. Tonks was forgotten. At that moment, she and Remus were the only two people in the world. She needed him, wanted him so much. Had she always? At that point, it seemed she had.
His lips circled fully about her clit and sucked hard, his fingers working ardently inside her.
"God, you shouldn't do that, really, don't ... oh, fuck, yes, there!" She was barely aware of her mumblings. Remus' growl of delight vibrated against her flesh, causing her to pull in her breath before she fell. He laved his tongue once more hard along her, ending at her primed clit. With that, she came.
"Oh god, Remus! Shit! Oh god!" Her body jerked sporadically against him. He pressed her thighs down, preventing her body from shaking off the pleasure too rapidly.
Hermione slowed and settled, a limp hand coming up to brush her hair off her face.
"Oh god, thank you, thank you, but really, god, what are we doing? This has got to stop now. Please, god, it has to stop." She reached a hand over and ran it down his chest, trying to push him away, but merely succeeding in stroking sensuously over his torso. He gripped her arm and pulled her to her feet. Immediately, she fell against him, her mouth seeking out his lips once more. He gave them to her, opening his mouth and delighting as he felt her tongue slip rapidly inside him. She was pressing against him so hard, he could only walk backwards. Her hips ground into his painfully engorged erection, causing them both to moan in longing. He came against a table of some kind. At last, their mouths tore themselves away from each other, but only to regroup and focus on what was to follow.
"Do you still think we should stop?" Remus asked breathlessly, his head resting against her forehead. His hands were down releasing himself.
"Yes," she mumbled, reaching down to help undo his fastenings.
"OK." His trousers fell to the ground, followed by his underwear, and at last he was there before her.
Hermione looked down and took his considerable length in her hand. "God, I dreamed about this." She knew it was the truth.
He manoeuvred them both around so that Hermione was now pressed against the table. Remus spoke with factual urgency as her hand stroked slowly along his rigid cock. "Can't wait any longer, my sweet. It has to be now."
She lay back, spreading her legs wide for him. He positioned himself swiftly, and once his eyes were fixed into hers, pushed into her.
Remus' eyes closed as pleasure gripped his body. She was as tight and wet and perfect as he had imagined, as he had hoped, for so long.
Hermione's hand came up to grip his shoulder. Her eyes were wide with delight. She smiled at him in wonder. He filled her so deep she felt things never before imagined.
"God, that's good. That's so good," she exclaimed. He smiled triumphantly before his face shifted into a grimace of ecstasy. He had to move. Gripping her hips firmly, he pulled back before stroking hard into her again. Hermione clenched around him, drawing him in deeper. Remus grunted in blissful satisfaction.
He began to move faster now, urgently, his eyes moving from hers to the sight of his engorged cock thrusting in and out of her velvet pussy. "Gods, Hermione, you are incredible; incredible, incredible beauty." His words were hissed out amidst groans of pleasure. "Do you know how long I have wanted this? How long I have wanted you? Do you know how long I have wanted to fuck you?"
His now brutal plunges were met with low moans from Hermione as her body felt itself ready once again.
Her fingers dug into his shoulder, and she fixed her eyes into his. With a juddering breath she came, her pussy tightening in frantic spasms around him. "Remus! Oh, fuck, at last!"
With the sound of her slurred declaration, he could hold back no more. Groaning his own pleasure out loudly, he burst into her, his hot seed hitting her forcefully as he came explosively.
He slumped onto her body. Hermione could not even bring her arms up to hold him there, so limp was she with the experience. Remus lay atop her, panting deeply. After some time, and without a word, he slipped out of her and moved away. Hermione rolled over and raised herself from the table. For a time there was silence. Neither spoke nor looked at the other.
Remus was standing apart from her. He had bent down to retrieve his clothes and, for the first time that night, she detected uncertainty in his eyes, not for his choices, but for her reaction.
But what had just transpired between them had affirmed Hermione's behaviour yet more. His body, his being was right, at this moment, it was simply right. And she had wanted him for so long. She knew that. Looking across at him now, standing naked, apart from an unironed shirt hanging louchely over his sinewy body, he looked as dishevelled and delicious as that first time she had seen him on the Hogwarts Express.
She walked over to him. He could hardly raise his eyes to her. When he did, they contained an apologetic tenderness which took her breath away. Reaching up a hand, she ran her fingers in the scruffy hair at the nape of his neck and kissed him. It was his turn to be diffident. Her desire rose swiftly again. She parted his warm lips with her tongue and slipped it in slowly to taste around him. He responded once more, his tongue flitting against hers, his ardent skill unable to be disguised. Without breaking the kiss, Hermione took his hand in hers. And then, reluctantly dragging her lips from his, she pulled him upstairs.
They went into the spare room, where they quickly removed the rest of their clothes. Once again, Hermione took the lead and walked over to him. His eyes almost had to shut against her blinding sensuality. Her hands came up to his torso, running over the scars she found there, brushing the nipples. He breathed hard and fast, his chest rising and falling rapidly under her touch. Then her head descended, her lips and tongue tasting him, soothing him, teasing him. She licked around his nipples, pulled them lightly in her mouth, nipping them with surprising conviction in her teeth. He sucked in a breath of surprise, but immediately his hands came up to hold her there. "That's right, that's right, my beautiful sweetheart."
Her lips grazed down, her tongue coming out to run down the centre of his tight, lean torso, down over the downy hairs which ran to a point below his navel. She was sinking down along him, her mouth approaching ever closer to her goal.
She could hardly avoid it. His rigid cock rose out so large and proud she had to move to the side to continue her progress. But then her head was level with it, and she took in the sight before her. Like his body, it was long and taut, but swollen to a considerable girth with desire. The head had a drop caught desperately on the smooth tip. Her tongue came out to slick over her lips. The man above her groaned with anticipation.
"You must. You must. I have dreamed about this, Hermione. I have dreamed about you." His hands took her head in them, and with surprising determination, he guided her onto his cock. Hermione allowed him to. She opened her mouth and felt him slide past her lips. Her tongue caught him as he moved into her and he growled with rapture. "Yes, yes, witch. Do it. I want it so much. Suck it, suck me hard."
His honest expression of need took her by surprise, but fired her own desire. She pulled her cheeks in around him, and moved, guided by his own hands working her. She raised her eyes. Remus was looking down, a slight frown of amazed abandon on his face. Her tongue and lips dragged hard and deep over him as he moved her with increasing rapidity over him. He was allowing an incessant stream of groans and grunts to rise from him with each pull of her mouth.
"I have to come now. I have to come, my angel." He was trying to pull out of her, but she quickly brought her hand up to the back of his thigh, and before he could move off, pushed him back onto her, at the same time as moving hard down along him.
A cry rose from him, and his body froze, paralysed with ecstasy. His fingers curled in her hair and he instinctively pushed fully into her again. She felt his hot bursts fall thick onto her tongue, as his groaning cry continued to echo around them.
With a stumble, Remus staggered back and collapsed onto the bed, his eyes only just able to take in the sight of Hermione swallowing his seed silently and secretly.
She came and crawled up beside him, nestling her head against his scarred torso. He drew an arm around her, running it through her hair.
"Did you expect that when you called on me tonight?"
He smirked, but no words came.
"But seriously, Remus. Is this why you came over tonight?"
"I confess - the thought did cross my mind. I wanted it. I wanted it so much. But I didn't dare hope. I couldn't. I don't know. I just ... found myself arriving at your door. I was feeling so damned wretched. You always make me feel better."
"And you, as you have clearly proven tonight ... make me feel better too."
There was silence for some time.
"Why aren't we together, Hermione?"
She took a while before responding. "Because for many years you were regarded as my teacher, I am with someone else ... and you are married with a child." She spoke the brutal truth frankly.
He sighed deeply before speaking again.
"It's odd, isn't it? You can see these paths through your life, the choices you've made, the decisions you had to take for whatever reason. You do what is right at the time, what may be the only option at the time, but when you look back, you think – well, if I'd taken that path this would have happened. Or if that option was available then, it would have worked out like this. And that can cause ... regret."
"But that's the beauty, and brutality, of hindsight. You must remember that, at the time, those options, those pathways simply were not there."
"But you, Hermione. You don't follow a path, do you? You blaze a trail. You make your own way, carving it, forging ahead." He leant on his elbow and seared her with his eyes. "Did you ever think what it would have been like if you had forged it over to me?"
"I have tonight."
"Only tonight?"
She smiled. "Don't think so much. I thought that was my problem."
He returned the smile ruefully and inclined his head to kiss her again. His mouth moved softly and silently over her lips, then rose to cover her cheeks, kiss over her eyes, up to her temples. She sighed in perfect contentment. His mouth was at her ear, his lips tingling her lobes, whispering. "Can I stay here tonight?"
"Yes ... yes, of course ... you must."
It was as if an unspoken agreement existed between them, that for now, there would be no guilt, no regret, just happiness. For now, for this moment, their paths had met, converged.
They lay, still and silent for some time. Hermione eventually rose to wash and get into bed. Remus did the same. And then, holding each other tight, they fell asleep in each other's arms, content and safe.
Hours passed, still and silent, but then in the darkness of the time between one day and the next, Hermione blinked her eyes open.
Something had awakened her.
There is was again; a low rumble of thunder, distant. Then came the slow and steady thud of heavy raindrops on the window. Hermione rolled over. The wizard beside her continued to sleep. She smiled and kissed him lightly on the shoulder, then moved back the covers and rose from the bed.
Hermione crossed to the window, opening the curtains a little and looking out over the rooftops of London. Rain was falling frantically on the pane now, thick hot drops of a broken summer night. The sky was illuminated with increasingly frequent bursts of blue light, which cast a ghostly glow over the pale Portland stone of west London's fine houses.
Hermione sighed deeply. The thunder grew louder, closer. At other times she would have retreated to her bed, pulling the covers up tight until the storm had passed. This night she found the tempest strangely enervating. A surge of glowing power swept through her, and she stood tall before the raging elements.
And then hands enclosed about her waist. She allowed herself to be pulled into the hard, lithe body behind her.
Remus' arms encircled her, his muscles firm and tight, comforting her yet further against the storm.
She allowed her head to fall back, exposing the soft flesh of her neck. Immediately, firm pliant lips were running along the skin. Hermione's hand reached up, holding his head hard against her.
"What are you thinking?" came the muffled murmur from the man on her body.
"Nothing."
"Tell me."
"Goodness, strength ... warmth."
"And ...?" his voice hummed against her skin.
"Want you ..."
"Want you," he repeated amidst the encroaching fog of lust.
Remus spun Hermione round abruptly and pulled her in hard against him, his mouth lowering instantly to capture her lips. She opened urgently for him, as his tongue sought within for her own. A groan rose from her which was quickly smothered by his desperate mouth. His hand was down, clasping the rise of her buttocks and plying the soft flesh.
"Remus ..." She ground her hips against him, feeling the rock hard questing on her belly, dampening it already in its need.
"Must have you, must have you my beautiful, brilliant girl." His voice was deeper, darker than she had heard before. Her belly twisted, his lust revealing a danger hitherto unsensed in their lovemaking.
"Yes, yes ..." she repeated, clenching her fingers in his hair, as his mouth travelled hungrily down over her collarbone stopping only when he had found a tight nipple to suck deep into his mouth. He groaned loudly against her breast, then with sudden and surprising force closed his teeth around the taut flesh. Hermione's eyes darted open and she inhaled sharply in shock. He did not stop. Hands were gripping her hips and pulling her down. Her knees gave way and she sank to the floor. Holding her firmly, he turned her round onto all fours.
Hermione's teeth bit into her bottom lip, partly with delighted expectation, partly to prevent herself begging too desperately. Never had she thought her lust could be so unbridled, that it would be brought from her by this man. There was a desperation in Remus now that she rarely if ever saw. She knew what was driving it. She delighted in it as much as the tender gentle attentions he had lavished on her earlier.
With a moan of anticipation, Remus knelt swiftly behind her, positioning himself fluidly. His hands gripped her hips hard, and with a growl of her name, he thrust fully into her.
Hermione was pushed forward with the force. Quickly, he pulled her back up against him, his cock jolting against her cervix. She cried out a little with the unexpected pang. He did it again. This time she was ready and met him equally.
"Please ... please ..." She had given up trying not to beg. Flexing her muscles, she elicited a groan of pleasure from the man embedded within her.
Remus pulled back slowly, only to plunge deep and full into her again. He had built up a regular rhythm now, sliding out to the point she feared he would fall from her, only to thrust hard back at the last moment. He caught her sweet spot inside each time, and Hermione soon felt her muscles shifting, her mind clouding as pleasure gripped her over reason.
"Hermione, Hermione ... should be mine ... you should be mine." His deep tones were almost unrecognisable, but so real, so genuine that they propelled her faster towards the precipice. "Can't hold on, can't hold on ..." His last words morphed into a growling wail of ecstasy. Gripping her hips yet harder, his fingers clawed into her flesh, and he pushed as deep into her as was possible. Remus threw his head back and came so hard his body juddered against her. He felt himself exploding hot and frantic into her body, which at that moment shattered around him. Hermione gasped, pulling in her breath as pleasure ripped its way from her core throughout her body. She released it with a long cry of delirium, her fingers flexing into the rug beneath her, her arms rigid, her eyes unseeing.
They stayed like that, Hermione kneeling with trembling aftershocks, Remus behind her, unable, unwilling to pull himself from her perfect body.
But then her body gave way, and with an uncontrollable jolt, she collapsed down onto the rug. Remus fell with her, slipping out reluctantly with a mourning groan.
After a few moments to focus back in on their surroundings, they raised themselves, holding each other, and slumped once again onto the bed.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked with genuine concern.
He smiled at her, all tenderness restored. "I am more alright than I can ever remember."
She ran a finger down his damp torso, the many scars and ridges prominent under the glow of sweat. "You are magnificent."
He drew his arm around her and pulled her in close to him. "Sleep now, my darling."
With her head cradled between his arms and his chest, she did. As did he.
Morning dawned and time slipped away. Still, the two lovers lay cradled together. They both knew that when at last they left the bed, they would never return to it. Their paths were once again about to diverge.
Just after midday, Remus sighed, his exhalation heavy with inevitability. "I am picking up Teddy at two o'clock."
Hermione was silent for a time before replying genuinely, "He'll be pleased to see you."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry, Remus."
"For what?"
"That this can be no more. That I chose something that made anything else between us impossible."
"As did I." He paused and glanced at her. "But you are not sorry it happened?"
"No."
"Neither am I. I never will be."
"I know."
"I love my wife. I love my son. They are my life. They are the path I am treading. But, for this moment ... thank you. You have ... renewed me."
She reached her head up to kiss him gently.
"And what of you?"
It was Hermione's time to sigh. "We shall see. Like you said, I won't rush into anything. It's funny," she stared into the middle distance, "I don't feel remotely guilty."
He held her tight, kissing the top of her head.
"I have to go."
With a final deep kiss, Remus rose from the bed, washing and dressing. Hermione watched his every move carefully.
And thus, they were merely friends again.
"I'll see you soon. I have to bring some things over for Ron about the trip to Latvia in two weeks time. There's quite a lot of kit involved. Can you tell him I'll owl to find a convenient time?"
"Of course."
He finished the last few buttons on his shirt and looked across at her. "Goodbye, Hermione."
"Goodbye, Remus."
After a final deep smile, Remus turned and left to tread his own path.
And Hermione continued to blaze hers.
Mmm ...
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