Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the people, places (in short, anything) associated with it.

Author's Notes: This is just a short little scene, and it's not exactly 'shippy' either. But it could be.

Hermione fell to an ungraceful heap on the floor.

"All right?" Came a soft, albeit hoarse voice from above her. Followed shortly by Remus Lupin's extended palm. Hermione glanced at a little longer than necessary before taking hold of it and allowing him to help her up. "That was a bit of an improvement," he said kindly as she dusted off her school robes.

Since Remus knew the grounds at Hogwarts better than any of the Order of the Phoenix members (or anyone else for that matter), his latest assignment was working secretly within the school. Specific mission details not disclosed, naturally. But secret or not that had not kept Harry, Ron and Hermione (and Ginny) from finding out about his post. Hermione in particular had been pleased to hear about it, though no one was exactly sure why. They all assumed, however, that it was a strictly educational reason. She would not admit that that was less than half of the reason. But their assumption seemed further justified when she had asked the former professor to assist her in her endeavour to become at least slightly more skilled at occulmency.

"It's very important to learn these sorts of things. Especially if you find yourself in the company of death eaters." She had told Harry and Ron. When she had told Remus, he had replied that he quite agreed. Though it hadn't been all positive.

"I'm not the best person to teach you. My occulmency skills, well they leave something to be desired." He had insisted. "You should ask Professor Snape he's very skilled, as I'm sure you've heard."

"Snape? Eugh." Hermione replied, and Remus tended to agree.

"Professor Snape. And not 'eugh'. Try blah. It's a much more pleasant sound." His arguments, however, had proved fruitless, as Hermione simply would not take no for an answer.

"Very well," Remus had relented at long last. "We could meet on Thursdays, when I'm not busy with the Order. I'll find somewhere for us to meet, and let you know." That was how Hermione now found herself, a few months after their initial agreement.

"I think that'll do for the night," he said walking over to the fireplace, and gently prodding it with the poker.

"Once more?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"I'm glad that your eagerness hasn't wavered. But I must put forth some authority on this one. It's time for bed, Hermione."

"Very well – er – will we be meeting again next Thursday, Remus?"

"Now, now. Professor Remus." He grinned at his rather lame attempt to remove the disappointment from her face. "And – er – no, we won't be meeting next Thursday."

"Why? Oh – right. That."

"You needn't sound so bitter about it Hermione. It's just one of those things."

Hermione shrugged. It couldn't possibly be 'one of those things' to him, but she went along with him anyhow. "If you say so Professor Remus." He smiled.

"It's not the first time I say it, and I suspect it won't be the last; you really are the cleverest witch of your age. You see to the core of everything. Even through a weary man who's grown rather accustomed to lying."

"Is that all I am? Clever?" Hermione asked suddenly. She wasn't sure what she expected to achieve by asking this of him, but she was becoming increasingly annoyed that it seemed to be her only recognizable trait. Remus too was unsure of her expectations. She took his silence for a yes, and started to the door. Her hand reached the knob, she turned the handle, opened the –

"You're so much more than just clever Hermione. I've always known." He paused ever so briefly. "But I hoped you wouldn't need me to tell you." It was a whisper, hardly audible, but it sprung through the silence of the room like a shout, then echoed loudly in her head. She turned around and smiled genuinely at him. The fire crackled in the hearth, as if in anticipation.

"I know," she replied hesitantly. "But, I think, I just wanted to hear you say it."