Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: For the purposes of this story: Lupin, Tonks, and Fred did not die in the Battle of Hogwarts; nothing romantic ever happened between Lupin and Tonks; and Hermione and Ron dated briefly in their sixth year before deciding they were better off as friends.

Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love.

It will not lead you astray.

—Rumi

Be Silently Drawn
Part One

"If you take a picture, it'll last longer."

A startled Hermione Granger turned left to find George Weasley grinning at her.

"That's what the Muggles say when someone's staring," he told her matter-of-factly. He nodded in the direction Hermione had been gazing. "Don't tell me you still fancy Ron?"

"I wasn't staring at him, and no. Definitely not."

Hermione grabbed a bottle of butterbeer while George looked over at who was standing with his brother. His eyebrows rose.

"So it was dear Remus you were admiring?"

"I wasn't admiring anyone."

"Why are you blushing, then?"

"I'm not!" she argued, but felt her face warm up as she did so.

"That's convincing," said George sarcastically.

"I wasn't staring at anybody. I was thinking about some things, and I must have been unconsciously looking that direct— oh!"

Hermione had looked over at Remus Lupin just as his roving gaze had flickered her way. She hastily turned away from him, nearly sloshing butterbeer all over herself. He was too far, Lupin couldn't possibly hear what she and George were talking about, could he?

"If I didn't know you any better," George said, surveying Hermione's flushed face with a playful gleam in his eyes, "I'd say you were hot for teacher."

"I am not—"

"He's a bit old for you, but if you fancy him—"

"I don't!"

"He's a good man, really. I totally approve if you want to start dating him, or, you know, just stay secret lovers—"

"George, that's ridiculous!"

"Is it?"

He was obviously amused by this conversation, but Hermione felt flustered. She struggled to deny the accusations, spluttering, "I do not fancy— we are not—"

"Hermione," George interrupted, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Relax. I'm only joking. It's a thing I'm known to do every so often."

Of course he was only joking.

"Right," she said, embarrassed at having gotten so worked up.

George let her go and grabbed a butterbeer. Hermione took a long swig of her own.

"Sorry. I guess I'm a little tense," she apologized.

"That's why I came over here. You looked too serious."

"I was thinking."

"Care to share?"

"Not really. It wasn't anything particularly interesting."

"Fair enough. Anyway, you should do less thinking and more lightening up. Look around."

George and Hermione took in the scene at the Burrow.

"I've never seen Mum so cheery," said the Weasley twin. "And Luna's… Well, I suppose that's what she calls dancing. And Hagrid is singing merrily—"

"You mean drunkenly," Hermione laughed. "I think some people have had too much firewhiskey."

"Maybe so, but the point is everyone's enjoying themselves. And it's not just the firewhiskey that's got everybody in a good mood. This is Harry Potter's eighteenth birthday party. The Boy Who Lived still lives! Tonight's a celebration. Voldy's dead, the war is over, and we're all still kicking!"

George was right. They were all here, and they were all together. Hermione decided to put aside her previous preoccupations and enjoy the present moment. Tonight was a celebration after all.

Later on that night, after she'd succeeded in relaxing so that she could fully enjoy the presence of her friends, she stood with Harry and Ginny in the sitting room of the Weasleys' home, listening as they recounted to her the latest prank Fred Weasley had pulled.

"…Mum was so distracted she actually took the chocolate from him and ate it!" Ginny was telling her, her eyes bright with impish glee. "So every time she tried to speak after that she would burst out singing opera."

"She was furious," Harry said with a grin. "She tried yelling at Fred but ended up warbling at him instead."

While Hermione was laughing along with her friends, Lupin came over to bid farewell to the birthday boy.

"You're leaving already?" Hermione asked, her worries from before suddenly returning.

"I'm not as young as I used to be," Lupin replied pleasantly, his green-gray eyes kind as always as he looked into her brown ones. "It's a bit late for me."

"I'm glad you came, Remus," Harry said. "I'll see you soon?"

Lupin nodded, and then he was on his way. Feeling uneasy, Hermione watched the man with the graying light brown hair disappear into the kitchen.

"It is late," Ginny agreed. "I'm surprised Mum and Dad are still up."

"Actually, I think they've gone to bed," Harry said, noting their absence from the room.

"You're right. They must have— Hermione, where are you going?"

"I — um — need to…"

Hermione didn't have time to make up an excuse. She left her friends guessing as to what she needed to do and dashed toward the kitchen, through the back door, and out to the garden just as Lupin reached the gate.

"Remus, wait!"

He turned around, looking surprised to see her hurrying towards him.

"What is it, Hermione?"

She joined him by the gate where the light pouring through the open kitchen door illuminated their figures.

"Hagrid told us earlier that Professor McGonagall offered you the Defense Against the Dark Arts post," she said. "I was wondering if you were going to accept."

"Oh. Well, honestly, I haven't decided yet."

"I think you should," Hermione told him. "You really are a great teacher, and Hogwarts is in desperate need of those after all that happened last year."

"Hogwarts is in good hands. McGonagall will find the right people to get the school back on track."

"She wants you to be one of those people." Hermione could see the hesitation in his eyes and thought she knew what was holding him back. "You shouldn't say no because you're a werewolf. That doesn't matter now. Things have changed."

"But I have not," Lupin replied wryly. "I am still the same werewolf who put you and your friends in danger in your third year."

"Only because you hadn't taken your potion, and that was due to extenuating circumstances. That wouldn't happen again, not as long as you're careful."

Lupin looked away from her, shaking his head slightly, and examined the rose bushes growing next to the gate.

"I know Harry and Ron will be starting their Auror training soon," he said, carefully reaching out his hand to touch a particularly gorgeous red rose, "so they won't be going back. I assume, however, you'll be returning to finish your seventh year?"

Hermione confirmed this, and unable to hide her pride or excitement, she added, "And McGonagall's made me Head Girl!"

"Congratulations, Hermione!"

Lupin picked the rose he'd been admiring.

"Here," he said, offering it to her. "For you."

Hermione blushed as she took the flower.

"I can't say I'm surprised," Lupin told her. "Well deserved."

"Thank you," she said, tucking her barely tamed brown hair behind her ear. She breathed in the rose's lovely scent. It made her feel strangely lightheaded.

Remus frowned slightly as he glanced between her and the rose.

"Well, I should be going now," he said, stepping away from her. "Goodnight, Hermione."

Hermione bit her lip as she watched Lupin pass through the gate. The thought of him leaving tonight unsettled her for some reason, but there was nothing she could think to say to make him stay. He'd closed the gate behind him and gone a few paces before she called out to him again.

"I'll see you at Hogwarts?" she asked uncertainly.

"Perhaps," Lupin answered with a faint smile. Then he turned on the spot and Disapparated.

Hermione was slowly being pulled away from sleep, but she didn't want to wake yet. Waking meant getting out of bed, and she was perfectly content where she was. Normally an early riser, eager to start the day, this morning she was simply too warm and comfortable to be in any hurry to get up.

Lost in the dreamy state between being asleep and fully awake, it took Hermione several minutes to realize she wasn't alone in her bed…

She wasn't aware at first of the light, even breathing on the back of her neck, nor was she conscious of the warm physical presence lying closely next to her, the legs entangled with her own, the arm wrapped around her waist. Only when her bedfellow began to stir, only when she felt the shiver-inducing sensation of his hand sliding across her stomach, did Hermione's eyes fly open.

Her bedfellow went still, his hand halting near her hip. Then, as though he'd been administered an electric shock, he abruptly pulled away. Heart beating fast, Hermione twisted around to see who was lying with her.

Staring back at her was an alarmed Remus Lupin.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in a review!