All the usual disclaimers, she is a genius, I am not... anything recognisable is not of my making! If it was I'd be typing this on a much better computer...
This started off as a 2,000 word one shot, and it grew a little. I hope you enjoy! Please review xx
Two Long Years
His voice always did send a tremor running deep inside her.
"What's that?"
He'd seen her pause as she sorted through the photos, years gone by. She'd been making some half arsed attempt to sort out the chaos of her apartment and he seemed to be happy to watch and listen. The pictures conjured up countless memories and she supposed she must have giggled out loud, as well as in her head.
"It's a photo of Harry, Ron and I, fifth year I think. I've never really looked at it before, Ron's almost drooling over me. How come I didn't notice?"
"It was a wonder to all of us, Hermione. You'd turned into a pretty girl by then, he was so obviously crazy about you."
Hermione smiled and ran a finger across the picture, Remus didn't miss the gesture, or her words...
"We were so young."
And he didn't miss her meaning. They had been so young, so innocent, but still so brave.
"The trials of youth, hey?" His words were light but his tone was heartfelt, they could both have written the book on the trials of youth.
He'd stepped closer to her and she could almost feel the heat from his body as it radiated against her. He was so hot, had he always been so hot or was it just the past two years?
"I can't work out if it was a happier time, or, well, not."
"What do you mean?"
Pause, breathe.
"You know what I mean."
He'd stepped closer still now, and his hands rested lightly on her shoulders as he gazed at the picture before her. She'd trained herself so well not to lean into his touch, but it was getting harder. Merlin, she hadn't thought it could be any harder to resist him, but after all this time that small voice she'd silenced so often had been screaming to be heard.
One touch, one little kiss, get it out the way and move on. Where's the harm? It's not much of a marriage after all.
She slapped the thought away, and as she did she became aware of his thumbs as they began to trace circles over her skin. They were soft at first and then harder, manipulating tensions she hadn't known were there until they faded away, bliss, it was just bliss.
"I do."
She knew, he knew, Harry knew, Ron knew, Sirius knew, everyone fucking knew. Didn't make it right though, did it? Didn't make it kind to his wife, didn't make it proper in the eyes of the world. It didn't matter who knew, or how they felt, nothing made it OK, and as far as she was concerned it didn't make it acceptable.
"Remus?"
"Hmmm... yes?" His voice was so low it made her shiver, and she didn't know how much closer he could come, there was so little space between them. Mind you, for the last two years she'd been wondering if the space between them was particularly skilled at carrying sparks and currents, even if he was across the room she could always feel that blasted heat.
"What are you doing?"
He stepped back immediately, and she heard his sigh and could picture the exact way his shoulders would slump. His hands stayed on her shoulders though, still now, and heavy as though the weight of the world rested on them.
"I don't know... Merlin, I don't know anything anymore."
She stayed silent, for someone so wordy she never could think of the right words at times like this.
He rested his forehead against the back of her head, sending those same shivers down her spine as she felt his breath tickle against her. Her head bowed slightly with the weight of his, it would be a simple motion, just one step away from him and the weight would be gone. Simple but not easy, nothing between them was every easy and try as she might her feet would just not move. Would it matter if they did? Would the weight ever really leave? She doubted it.
"I wish I were a better man."
But this couldn't go without words. She turned and clasped one of those magical hands between her own.
"You're a good man, Remus"
"Tell that to my wife, Hermione."
And she was back to silence; of course she was now unable to meet his eyes as well. She knew it wasn't right but she hated that woman, hated her with all her might.
"She knows you're a good man."
He stepped back from her and ran a hand through his soft, sandy hair.
"She just wishes I were a different one."
This wasn't a new sentiment, when the 'event' had first happened Hermione had finally conceded defeat. Tonks had her 'different' man now and all of a sudden his usually absent wife couldn't be parted from her husband. It was just what he'd wanted, he'd been in love with Tonks for so long and now he had his wife back, now he had the passion back, she could see it in his eyes. His marriage was back on track. His son, born of love, could grow up in a proper home, part of a proper family.
She'd known there was nothing left for her then, no room for the alternative she offered, and no hope for them. She'd done what any self respecting Witch would have done, she'd stepped back.
Not just back actually, she'd stepped away, far away. She'd thanked Merlin for work and the options it had given her as she'd felt the sand between her toes and tried to stop her heart breaking at the sight of the sunset.
And it hadn't been Sirius' words which had brought her back;
"He's kidding himself, love. We both know it."
No, it had been the fact that one morning she had clambered out of her bed to discover that the first thought on her mind was not amber eyes and warm hands, albeit hands she'd never felt where she wanted them most. No, her first thoughts had been on the colour of the sky and her plans for the day, and she knew it was safe to go back, she was healed.
Wrong.
So, so wrong. It was just seconds after seeing him again before she realised how mistaken she was. She doubted she would ever be healed, all through her life she would love him, and all though her life she would miss the feel of passionate moments they had never shared, of kisses which had never been stolen and breathless promises she had never heard outside of her dreams.
It wasn't the first time she'd heard those words from him, but it would be the last. She wasn't a fragile girl but everyone had their limits. She could live with knowing she would never have what she wanted, but she couldn't see it in front of her face every day, so close, but almost as if he was a thousand miles away.
"Do you ever get tired of the look on my face when you walk away, Remus?"
He blinked at her in surprise; it seemed like an odd question, it was so bold, so honest. They never talked like this, they skirted around the issue with unspoken words and thinly disguised touches. If he answered her, really answered her honestly, it would be like opening a door he could never close.
"I have to go, my wife... Dora will be waiting."
Well that was it, the knowledge crashed down on her like a wave and for one moment she wondered if she would ever breathe again. She tried, for the first time she'd tried. And who knows, if he'd answered her she might have carried on trying, she could have tried so hard he never walked away again.
But it had been such a delicate hope, and it had fractured so easily. It was time to stop the world, she wanted off.
"Don't come back."
That stopped him, his froze on his way to the door and she could feel the atmosphere in the room change with his shock.
"What?"
"When you leave, when you go back home again, like you always do. Safe in the knowledge that nothing happened, that you've done nothing wrong. Don't come back."
His face was calm, he had himself as well disciplined as she did. But his eyes told another story, panic.
"Hermione, I know it's hard but..."
"No, Remus. I've never really been honest with you before, I will be now. I guess it's the first time, and it will be the last. I love you, I love you more and more every time I see you."
She couldn't miss the light in his eyes before the sadness crept in.
"I don't know what to s..."
"You don't get to say anything." Her tone was sharp and it surprised them both, but she knew the words had to be said, and this was it, the time to say them.
"Everyone knows how I feel about you, Merlin, Tonks probably knows herself. For two years I've been listening to people tell me it was just a matter of time before you woke up. For two years I've watched your marriage crumble and seen how hard you worked to keep it standing tall. It made me love you even more, how desperate you were to save it, to give Teddy what you think he needs."
"When you were lying in that bed I didn't even notice you'd changed. I was just so relieved to see that you were OK. You didn't ask for the truth but you're going to get it anyway. I didn't notice, but Tonks sure as hell did, didn't she? You were always perfect to me, Remus. I won't deny the change in you, I won't deny the effect you have on me, but it's always been the same for me. Not for her though, was it? She's so beautiful, and you're..."
She let her gaze travel over him, her eyes showing raw hunger through her pain. She took in his soft, sandy hair, the stubble covering his strong, handsome jaw line. He felt her eyes as they stared into his, as they traced the outline of his shoulders and the shape of his thighs. He felt himself heat under her gaze until he couldn't stand it, taking a seat just to break the connection. He tried desperately to think of something to say to save her from her own confession, one he knew he couldn't return, but he came up blank.
"Well, you know what I mean. She loves that doesn't she? Even if she doesn't love you."
Too cruel, Hermione? Too close to the bone?
She caught the brief look of hurt in his eyes but pressed on regardless. Ultimately if she had her way when he walked out the door it would be for the last time, maybe a bit of cruelty would aid that process?
"She lusts after you and you revel in it, you thought it was enough. You're the only one who knows if that's true. You say she wishes you were another man? Well I would never wish that, I could never wish that, not when you're the only one I've wanted this way. You're the only one who's made me feel like you could split me in two and put me back together with one touch, the only one who makes my chest feel tight while every other part of me is burning."
She heard him swallow even as she felt herself blush horribly. She had never said anything like this to anyone, prim little Hermione Granger confessing lust like this? Never.
"You're the only person who makes me tremble with need for you in my dreams, and the only one who can make me feel like the most interesting person on earth. I know what I'm like, Remus. I know I'm bookish and earnest, I know the world sees me as prim and proper and stuck up, but you see something else. You see me, Remus. And I'll never forgive you for that."
Shock in his eyes again, she was the master of the surprise statement this evening, but what had to be said had to be said. Maybe he'd even thank her one day.
"You've brought me out of myself, you've made me aware of what's possible in this world, how two people can connect on so many different levels. I ache for you, Remus, in every way. I love you so damn much."
She turned away from him now, hoping against hope that she could finish this without tears.
"And it's killing me."
He'd walked and walked, maybe for hours now. Damn Dora and her incessant questions.
Where were you? Who were you with? Why are you always out these days? Don't you love me anymore?
Well he could answer her so easily; I was in London, with Hermione, because it's occurred to me that five minutes in her company is more exhilarating then the last two years have been in yours, and in truth? No, maybe I don't.
But it was never that easy, was it?
No, he had made a vow, one he would never regret. He had stood up in front of his friends and promised to be true to this Witch. And he had been, no matter how hard it had been, he had been.
Oh it hadn't been hard to begin with, they had shared a passion he hadn't felt in years. They hadn't been able to get enough of one another, had devoured each other wherever and however they could. They had laughed together and spent long, cosy winters nights hidden from the rest of the world. She had been the first woman to accept him for what he was, and a part of him would always cherish her for that.
But there was a girl that accepted you before Dora even knew you existed, wasn't there?
It was just a shame that his wife, who accepted him for what he was, couldn't accept him for who he was.
It had begun just before the war had ended. They had spent three years fighting, determined to see it through, and they had supported each other through that, through the long, terrifying nights and endless losses. Maybe the battles and adrenaline and turmoil had hidden the facts. They had distorted the facts which had become glaringly apparent to anyone who knew them both.
They had absolutely nothing in common.
She wanted noise when he wanted quiet, she wanted company when he wanted to relive their intimate nights alone under the stars. Dora wanted parties and Quidditch matches and gigs by weird bands he'd never heard of.
That wasn't to say he didn't want those things. He knew he wasn't dull, he'd never have been able to keep up with Sirius and James if he didn't have Marauder in his heart. He loved to socialise and could drink and party with the best of them, but not all the time. She was 'on' all the time and he was tired. He'd wondered what had happened to the Witch he'd first met, the one who'd seemed so content in his company?
The doubts had started to roll in and before long he couldn't stop them. Had they done the right thing? Could they last? Was it time to walk away?
And then she'd fallen pregnant and after his initial shock and fear, and terrible behaviour, he'd felt such an overwhelming joy he wondered how he had ever thought of leaving her.
The first four years of Teddy's life had been a miracle to him, in truth his little boy still was, every day he marvelled at his good fortune. The dust of the war had settled, Sirius had been returned to them with Voldemort's fall, and it was perfect. Or it would have been perfect if it hadn't been for that one little fly in the ointment.
Teddy hadn't been enough to fix them, not that a child should ever been considered a way to mend a broken marriage. But for a while he had hoped that their beautiful son would cause them to bond again, to find a common ground.
But their differences became even more apparent. She was a boisterous mother who only seemed interested in sport and fun and the world outdoors. She seemed to almost purposefully overlook that side of her son which took after his father, the fact that Teddy would happily spend an afternoon holed up in the library with his father, heading his own investigations into the world of the written word. More than once she'd accused Remus of being boring and of trying to make his son boring too.
"For Merlin's sake, Nyphadora. If I'm so damn boring why do you stay with me?"
"Because you're my husband."
And there it was, because he was her husband. Not because she loved him, not because she couldn't imagine her world without him in it, just because he was her husband.
How those words had stung. He'd never ceased to love her, even through their differences, but she had made it harder and harder every day.
And then, one bright, hot day, he'd been trawling through case work in his Ministry study while the sun filtered through the window and she'd walked back into his life.
Shock had been his first reaction, swiftly followed by lust, sharp, burning lust.
Hermione Granger had never been a knock out beauty, pretty would have been the best way to describe her and even now and it would be fair to say that she lacked the confidence women like Tonks carried with them, the air that accentuated their looks. No, Hermione didn't seem to be at all aware of the changes she'd undergone in the two years since he'd seen her.
Two long years, how had that happened? After all, America wasn't that far away when you had magic at your disposal. She'd been studying the very latest in magical forensics before returning to join the Auror division back in London. He knew she'd been back now and again, he'd heard tales of her successes at University through their friends and had even received two beautifully written Christmas cards, but somehow their paths had never crossed. He wondered if she would have had quite such an effect on him if he'd had seen the changes come over her gradually?
But instead he felt the full force. Her hair was still simply indescribable, he supposed not even magic would ever change that. Although she'd been a pretty girl, her hair had always been almost comical. Now though she seemed to carry it better, it seemed wild rather than then messy, more striking than amusing, heaven help him, it was sexy. And so was the rest of her, even if she clearly had no idea. She'd wondered into his study in Muggle jeans and top and he'd worked hard to keep his eyes from sweeping over her from top to toe.
Her skin was almost luminous, and his errant mind strayed to images of soft, pale thighs before he could stop it. Her eyes shone at him from across the room and her smile was infectious, even through his shock he couldn't help but return it.
It wasn't that she was stunning, although there was no doubt that two years of the intense physical training which formed part of any Auror focused Degree had done wonders for her. She was toned and fighting fit but she hadn't lost the softness in the places that mattered. There were still curves there, obvious, enticing curves.
So pretty, yes. Attractive, definitely. But it wasn't that which blew him away.
It was her freshness. She wasn't wearing makeup, in fact it looked as though the thought wouldn't occur to her. He could smell her from across the room and she smelt like a summer's day, grass and flowers and something just a little bit exotic. But there was nothing forced, nothing fake. Her lips looked pink and inviting without the aid of any gloss and the skin at her neck didn't need jewellery to adorn it.
It was her innocence which first drew him in.
And it was her heart and soul which kept him there.
It had happened quickly after that; short conversations leading to longer ones. Group lunches gave way to quiet drinks between the two of them. Smiles became lingering glances, which in turn became full on gazes, gazes which held oh so many questions.
Questions he wouldn't be able to answer, even when they were given a voice by his oldest friend.
"What's going on, Remus?"
"With what?"
"Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you. With Hermione?"
He'd thought about lying, to his friend as well as himself, but it was almost a relief to get things out in the open.
"I don't know Sirius, she's... she's... Merlin, look at her."
"You're married."
"I know."
"Where does that leave Tonks?"
"Where she's always been, she's my wife, I love her."
"Do you? Do you really?"
"I do."
"Well, where does that leave you?"
Where indeed..?
And there the situation had stalled, for a while anyway. He'd fought against every instinct in his body and soul and had stayed away... for a grand total of two weeks.
Of course when he sought her out again it had been worse than ever. She retained that same fresh, gloriously innocent beauty he'd seen when she'd returned from America and he'd almost wept. It was hopeless, he'd just have to face it, he was in love with two women.
At least he could be certain of one thing, it was one sided. She may be curious about him, may even harbour some kind of crush, after all the looks weren't one sided. But he couldn't persuade himself that she could really want him, that she could honestly look at him the way he did her.
But then the looks became touches. Innocent ones, of course, he was a man of honour after all.
And maybe if you kept telling yourself that it will be true.
No, there was nothing sordid, nothing untoward. It was just simple things, a brush of her hand, his hand on her elbow as he steered her through a crowded bar, one, and only one, 'friendly' kiss goodnight. He hadn't let that happen again, he cheek had been soft under his lips and her smell captivating, almost as captivating as her big brown eyes as she'd gazed up at him.
"Take care, Remus."
Take care with what young Witch? My heart, my wife's heart, and maybe even your heart? As hard as it had been he'd slowly allowed himself to wonder if, perhaps, it wasn't as one sided as he had once thought.
Eighteen months, eighteen long months and her steady, calculating gaze hadn't wavered. It still held the same depths of... something he'd seen when they'd first met again. And the way she shivered when he touched her, like he'd struck a chord somewhere deep down, one she hadn't known was there. Her eyes had looked so surprised at first, as if he'd slapped her, and he'd realised with a start that she'd never felt that jolt before.
It had caused his mind to wonder, had she just never felt that lust? Or had she never felt any of it? Had a man ever touched her? Caressed her? Pushed her up against a wall and tasted everything she had to offer, had no one ever...
Ye gods man, keep yourself under control.
So he had spent his days in a daze; he was a good father, or he hoped he was, he was so in love with his son he couldn't see how he could strive to be anything less. He was a good husband too, in name anyway. Dora never wanted for anything, he worked hard these days, at least he was allowed to now, the Auror division had welcomed him with open arms after his actions in the war. He looked after his family financially, and his son emotionally. His wife never had to hear rumours about him the way some wives did, she hadn't had to worry that their marriage would go the way of some formed during the war; in a storm of infidelity and acrimonious divorce. He tried to be there for her, tried to understand her, but somehow he always felt himself lacking.
He'd thought that maybe he hadn't tried hard enough, perhaps subconsciously he was only half there with her. Of course he knew where the other half was, it was locked in his study with Hermione, discussing the intricacies of a case in such detail it would drive less well suited minds to distraction. Or perhaps it was sharing a walk through a city park while she revelled in the grass under her bare feet while extolling the virtues of Muggle literature with a determination that never failed to make him smile.
It had been with that thought in his mind, and a vow to try harder, to make his marriage work, that he had left for work that day.
That strange, bizarre day in which everything had changed.
"Oh god, oh god. Is he OK?"
Hermione had been running before she'd even finished the words. Hospital, accident, unconscious, Remus. That had been enough to send her world into free fall, and heaven knows what the results would have been if Ron hadn't stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder.
"Hermione, listen to me. Tonks is there. I... well I don't know what... if anything... that's not to say I think anything is... Merlin, I mean Tonks is there, of course, she's his wife."
He'd seen her questioning look begin to transform into an angry glare and he'd hastily come to the point.
"I just know you'd regret it if there was a scene."
She'd softened towards him then, there was no judgement in his eyes or his words. He didn't know if anything was going on, he probably didn't want to know. But he did know her, and he was right. She would never forgive herself if she allowed her depth of feeling for Remus to become public, outside their small, intensely private circle of friends anyway.
And so it was that she'd approached his hospital room with caution, overwhelmingly aware that the space inside this little room contained both the man she loved and wanted more than she could ever have imagined and the reason she would never be able to act on those emotions.
Her conversation with Tonks had been short and to the point, and as she gazed at him she'd hardly noticed anything different although the doctors had been clear.
"An accident apparently..."
"Strange combination of potions that Wizard kept..."
"... never be able to replicate the exact circumstances..."
"Yes, younger..."
"Strangest thing, no other effects..."
"Looks around thirty, I'd say..."
But to her he'd just looked peaceful, like he didn't have a care in the world as he slept. And once she'd assured herself that he was OK she had offered to bring Tonks a coffee when she came back from the canteen.
Her response had said the words they would never acknowledge out loud.
"He's fine, Hermione. There's no need for you to stay."
Mine.
It was funny how she'd known what Tonks' reaction would be, she didn't really know the Witch all that well. But something told her that things would change now. Tonks had a young man, not a tired Wizard, he was in the prime of his life and she would celebrate that. How strange, Hermione thought, to be so concerned with what was only skin deep. Tonks would be all too aware of what a catch she had these days, how lucky she was.
What a shame she hadn't realised that it wouldn't change what lay within his eyes, or his heart.
And, of course, Hermione had been right.
Tonks had launched a full force charm offensive when her 'new and improved' husband had woken up, and Hermione had heard enough snippets of conversation to know that her battle plan included events inside the bedroom as well as out.
And for five months something inside her had died. She'd lost hope if you like. There were a lot of things Hermione Granger was sure of; she could spot a lie a mile away, could read between the lines of a suspects statement as if the words were written a foot high, she could recite the exact phrasing of almost any line of Othello and could smell a badly brewed potion as soon as she entered the room.
She was also sure that never, in her most explicit of dreams, could she compare to the entertainment a Witch with Tonks experience and raw sex appeal would be able to offer.
So she'd given up, almost completely. When he knocked on her door all that time later there was only the smallest shred of hope left alive within her. When Sirius had confided in her that things were not quite as rosy as they may appear within the Lupin's marriage that shred of hope blossomed ever so slightly. And he'd offered her the only comfort he could;
"Just give it time, love. I'm sure of it, give it time."
And she'd allowed herself to dream again. Dreams of warm, strong hands and firm thighs, dreams of feelings she had never imagined and actions she had never considered. Dreams she had subconsciously suppressed until it seemed that maybe, just maybe, there may be hope.
She'd even come to terms with the morals of the issue, or tried to anyway. Merlin knows there was enough gossip and speculation within their group about the way Tonks had been eyeing up Charlie Weasley, about the way their giggles could be heard as clearly down the table at dinner as the sweet stream of conversation Hermione and Remus always fell into. The marriage was failing, everyone knew it.
Everyone but Remus, anyway.
Or maybe he did, maybe he just didn't want to face it. Or maybe he did know but he just didn't want her the way she wanted him. Her stomach clenched at the thought, but she had to face facts.
She had given him chance to talk about things this evening and he'd turned away from it. She'd looked at him, with his broad shoulders and smooth skin, free of the lines born of the cares and worries of the past few years. She'd seen firm thighs and strong arms, hands which she'd always loved, now even more enticing, if that was possible. She'd seen eyes which had never changed in the way that they looked at her, in the wisdom they held, and the trace of something deeper which she caught on occasion, eyes which had never been able to hide who he really was, no matter what face they shone from.
She'd looked at him and spoken with all the honesty she could muster, she hadn't talked about the tears, hadn't even shown them, she hadn't talked about the advances she'd spurned from other men because they would never quite measure up, hadn't told him about the nights where she felt so lonely she wondered how she would manage to face another day. But she'd told him what was important, what he needed to know.
And then she'd asked him to leave. And he'd gone, in silence.