Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot on this fanfic and a couple
or more characters you certainly won't find in the HP books so when I say
anything I mean anything! Heck, I don't even own this computer! I'm just
renting it until I get my own. So please bear with me if my updates are
slow? ^___^;;;
Spoilers: You'll know 'em when you see 'em! ^o^v!!!
Author's Note: Enjoy!!! ^__~*
Chapter One:
The Scarlet Knitted Wool Scarf
Remus Lupin was drunk. There was no other way to put it. He didn't care. He knew no one in the whole damned house was likely to know he was drunk or care. No one would dare look him in the eye since Sirius' death. No one cared. He was alone again like he always was when he was just a little boy running wild in the countryside, feared by every other animal because they could sense what he was. An unnatural being of evil, condemned by the very earth itself. There was no comfort to be had, except in the bottom of a firewhiskey bottle.
It's been over a year since Sirius died but this was the first time he actually allowed himself the time to mourn him. Truly mourn him. He busied himself with his work for the Order to keep him from facing the pain, the agony of the reality that Sirius will never come back. But tonight... tonight, as Harry celebrated his seventeenth birthday and with Voldemort dead at last... he couldn't keep the pain at bay any longer. He grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey as soon as everybody was sound asleep. He just wanted to drown his sorrows and numb his whole being into oblivion. His logical self knew it was not reasonable to do that but he didn't want to be reasonable anymore. He just wanted to die and be free to curse the world around him for it's selfishness in dealing with the likes of him...
He stumbled as he reached the landing that led to the second floor bedrooms. One more flight of stairs to his room. He fell face down on the floor, not even wanting to get up. He just wanted to die. He just wanted to die and join Sirius and James to wherever they were and be with them again. Why?! Why did they have to leave him?! He was alone. All alone again with no hope of ever having anyone care whether he lived or died anymore. It was hopeless. He will never be whole again.
Remus lay there, contemplating on the emptiness of the world around him. A world which only left him in no doubt, how impossible it was for him to be happy. He wanted out. He just wished that he could act as wretchedly and violently and savagely as the animal inside him did whenever the moon bloomed full and claimed his sanity. Right now, it would be a blessing to him. At least he could let the anger out. But good, stable Lupin must always be sane. It was embedded in his brain as the result of his fear about hurting innocent people in his rampage. It's too late to teach himself otherwise now.
Just as he was about to fall asleep on the floor, his sharp hearing picked up on a pair of delicate little footsteps stopping in front of him. Hazily, he wondered who it was. His mental question was answered by a familiar gentle voice and an equally gentle touch on his shoulder.
"Remus?" she asked gently. "Remus, can you stand up?"
Slowly, he raised his face and, in front of him, saw an angel. She was looking at him with such concern but there was no condemnation on her face. No indication that she was disappointed in him because he was drunk. Him. The ever reasonable, ever reliable, ever sensible Lupin. He felt ashamed of himself all of a sudden. He felt as if he failed her by breaking down like this without warning.
Remus sat up and leaned against the bannister, facing her. She was now sitting in front of him on her haunches eyeing him with concern. He hazily admired the way her cream colored nightgown flattered her ripening body. Her frayed scarlet knitted wool scarf looked becoming against her cinnamon brown hair which was loosely braided for the night. The sight of her comforted him and filled him with an unexplainable sense of loss that reached into the deepest recesses of his heart like icy fingers, making the misery he felt all the more acute.
"Hermione..." he whispered bitterly, desperately as she looked at him. "I'm... so... sorry..."
She only gave him a small, gentle smile full of soft warmth and understanding and he took what he could from it. She alone always seemed to understand him though she never said anything. She treated him the same as she always did. With respect and fondness and admiration. She was the first one of all the teenagers in the whole house who called him by his first name. Everybody else just copied her. She was the only one who did not stay away and treated him condescendingly or insensitively. And he always thought of her as an angel. An angel he was unworthy to even look upon...
"I'm going to take you into your room now, alright?" she asked him in a whisper as she took out her wand.
Tiredly, he nodded. If he can trust anyone to point a wand at him, it would be Hermione. He saw her nod and wave her wand.
"Mobilicorpus." She whispered.
He felt himself float in mid air towards his room with her trailing behind him, holding her wand to keep him up. When they reached his room, she lay him comfortably on his bed and he just stayed there, closing his eyes.
"You can go back to sleep now. I'm sorry I woke you." He told her.
But instead of leaving, he suddenly felt someone gently bathing his face with warm water. He snapped his eyes open and saw Hermione gently washing him. Remus watched as she performed a series of spells to rid him of the sweat and the stench of alcohol until he felt thoroughly clean and normal again. Comfortable.
He closed his eyes and swallowed the tightening in his throat. The man who conquers her heart will be the luckiest man alive indeed. And Remus will envy him forever. If Hermione could care for a person like him, of no possible importance to her other than a teacher, what more if the person was the one she would give her life to? No one ever cared for him like this in his life. No one! Her kindness spilled over him like warm sunlight and he drifted off drowsily...
He felt her lips make contact with his forehead. Feather soft and light. Remus answered her caress with a tilt of his head so he can catch her lips with his own but he failed. His mouth opening slightly with anticipation, with an ache from the very core of his soul. Every part of him was craving her. Every single piece of him was yearning for her and wanting her in the worst way possible.
"Remus..." she whispered against his ear.
His heart was fit to burst with all the pent up emotion he's been holding back all this time. He could feel her sweet breath warming his ear, her lips as she kissed his face. He wanted to touch her so much and yet he couldn't convey his desire with the eloquent words he'd been so adept at disposing. Until now. All he could manage were feeble words of yearning.
"I need you..." he moaned hoarsely.
He saw her smile gently and felt her caress his face. He leaned into the touch, savoring every glide of her skin on his. Basking on the warmth of her body. It was like being taken to heaven. He felt her sliding her body on his and he arched back. His body silently begging her for a much deeper, more intimate contact...
"Hermione..." he whispered in a trembling voice. "Please..."
It was a plea for acceptance. A plea for the impossible. A plea for love...
She opened the buttons of his shirt and placed a lingering kiss on his chest. Heat spread all over his body at the contact. He had to have her. He had to feel her taking him. Pretending that she loved him. Just this once... Just for this moment he wanted her to love him...
"I love you, Remus..." she whispered to him as she lowered her lips on his and her body straddled him. "I always will..."
The dizzying surge of joy was weakening. She loved him! Him! He was actually trembling as he watched her lips drawing nearer to his. Her hands were caressing his face tenderly. Her eyes searing with such love he could hardly breathe. In an upsurge of urgency, he raised his arms to embrace her...
"Hermione..."
...Only to enfold empty air...
Shaking with supressed emotions, Remus sat up on his bed and looked around him. His room in number twelve Grimmauld Place was dark and spartan just as he kept it. The firewhiskey bottle at his bedside. And he was completely alone...
With a heartsickening lurch he realized that he was only dreaming. None of it was real! He closed his eyes and lay back down on the bed, ignoring the pain that broke inside his skull. He felt like crying.
No. Not all of it was an illussion. He could feel that he was clean and comfortable despite his headache. She must have left when he passed out though he could not remember when that came to pass. Remus gulped down the disappoinment. It was just a dream after all. Just a figment of his imagination. An illusion. A fantasy. The real Hermione Granger would never permit herself to be touched that way by a werewolf no matter how fond she was of him. No woman in her right mind would ever let themselves be sullied by the likes of him. He had to accept that. He had to wake up to that reality.
He clenched his fists and recited the words like a mantra in his mind but he halted when his right hand caught something soft and warm beside his pillow. He raised it up and stared at the scarlet knitted wool scarf. Without thinking, he raised the material to his face and clutched it close. Inhaling deeply and hungrily devouring the warmth emanating from it. Praying for the dream to start again. Begging it to come back and at least let him live with the illussion for a few minutes more... Just a few minutes more...
He fell asleep soundly after awhile. Thoroughly comforted, yet the tears left their trails from his eyes to his cheeks... and dropping onto the well worn material he was clutching so tightly like a lifeline...
/**/*/*/*/
A/N: Mushy, isn't it? Anyway, I'm going to put this fic on rated R just in case I flip and decide I need to go dark on the later chapters (and I plan to though I don't know if I'm going to be any good at it. ^_^;;;) Anyway, read and review, guys!!!
Spoilers: You'll know 'em when you see 'em! ^o^v!!!
Author's Note: Enjoy!!! ^__~*
Chapter One:
The Scarlet Knitted Wool Scarf
Remus Lupin was drunk. There was no other way to put it. He didn't care. He knew no one in the whole damned house was likely to know he was drunk or care. No one would dare look him in the eye since Sirius' death. No one cared. He was alone again like he always was when he was just a little boy running wild in the countryside, feared by every other animal because they could sense what he was. An unnatural being of evil, condemned by the very earth itself. There was no comfort to be had, except in the bottom of a firewhiskey bottle.
It's been over a year since Sirius died but this was the first time he actually allowed himself the time to mourn him. Truly mourn him. He busied himself with his work for the Order to keep him from facing the pain, the agony of the reality that Sirius will never come back. But tonight... tonight, as Harry celebrated his seventeenth birthday and with Voldemort dead at last... he couldn't keep the pain at bay any longer. He grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey as soon as everybody was sound asleep. He just wanted to drown his sorrows and numb his whole being into oblivion. His logical self knew it was not reasonable to do that but he didn't want to be reasonable anymore. He just wanted to die and be free to curse the world around him for it's selfishness in dealing with the likes of him...
He stumbled as he reached the landing that led to the second floor bedrooms. One more flight of stairs to his room. He fell face down on the floor, not even wanting to get up. He just wanted to die. He just wanted to die and join Sirius and James to wherever they were and be with them again. Why?! Why did they have to leave him?! He was alone. All alone again with no hope of ever having anyone care whether he lived or died anymore. It was hopeless. He will never be whole again.
Remus lay there, contemplating on the emptiness of the world around him. A world which only left him in no doubt, how impossible it was for him to be happy. He wanted out. He just wished that he could act as wretchedly and violently and savagely as the animal inside him did whenever the moon bloomed full and claimed his sanity. Right now, it would be a blessing to him. At least he could let the anger out. But good, stable Lupin must always be sane. It was embedded in his brain as the result of his fear about hurting innocent people in his rampage. It's too late to teach himself otherwise now.
Just as he was about to fall asleep on the floor, his sharp hearing picked up on a pair of delicate little footsteps stopping in front of him. Hazily, he wondered who it was. His mental question was answered by a familiar gentle voice and an equally gentle touch on his shoulder.
"Remus?" she asked gently. "Remus, can you stand up?"
Slowly, he raised his face and, in front of him, saw an angel. She was looking at him with such concern but there was no condemnation on her face. No indication that she was disappointed in him because he was drunk. Him. The ever reasonable, ever reliable, ever sensible Lupin. He felt ashamed of himself all of a sudden. He felt as if he failed her by breaking down like this without warning.
Remus sat up and leaned against the bannister, facing her. She was now sitting in front of him on her haunches eyeing him with concern. He hazily admired the way her cream colored nightgown flattered her ripening body. Her frayed scarlet knitted wool scarf looked becoming against her cinnamon brown hair which was loosely braided for the night. The sight of her comforted him and filled him with an unexplainable sense of loss that reached into the deepest recesses of his heart like icy fingers, making the misery he felt all the more acute.
"Hermione..." he whispered bitterly, desperately as she looked at him. "I'm... so... sorry..."
She only gave him a small, gentle smile full of soft warmth and understanding and he took what he could from it. She alone always seemed to understand him though she never said anything. She treated him the same as she always did. With respect and fondness and admiration. She was the first one of all the teenagers in the whole house who called him by his first name. Everybody else just copied her. She was the only one who did not stay away and treated him condescendingly or insensitively. And he always thought of her as an angel. An angel he was unworthy to even look upon...
"I'm going to take you into your room now, alright?" she asked him in a whisper as she took out her wand.
Tiredly, he nodded. If he can trust anyone to point a wand at him, it would be Hermione. He saw her nod and wave her wand.
"Mobilicorpus." She whispered.
He felt himself float in mid air towards his room with her trailing behind him, holding her wand to keep him up. When they reached his room, she lay him comfortably on his bed and he just stayed there, closing his eyes.
"You can go back to sleep now. I'm sorry I woke you." He told her.
But instead of leaving, he suddenly felt someone gently bathing his face with warm water. He snapped his eyes open and saw Hermione gently washing him. Remus watched as she performed a series of spells to rid him of the sweat and the stench of alcohol until he felt thoroughly clean and normal again. Comfortable.
He closed his eyes and swallowed the tightening in his throat. The man who conquers her heart will be the luckiest man alive indeed. And Remus will envy him forever. If Hermione could care for a person like him, of no possible importance to her other than a teacher, what more if the person was the one she would give her life to? No one ever cared for him like this in his life. No one! Her kindness spilled over him like warm sunlight and he drifted off drowsily...
He felt her lips make contact with his forehead. Feather soft and light. Remus answered her caress with a tilt of his head so he can catch her lips with his own but he failed. His mouth opening slightly with anticipation, with an ache from the very core of his soul. Every part of him was craving her. Every single piece of him was yearning for her and wanting her in the worst way possible.
"Remus..." she whispered against his ear.
His heart was fit to burst with all the pent up emotion he's been holding back all this time. He could feel her sweet breath warming his ear, her lips as she kissed his face. He wanted to touch her so much and yet he couldn't convey his desire with the eloquent words he'd been so adept at disposing. Until now. All he could manage were feeble words of yearning.
"I need you..." he moaned hoarsely.
He saw her smile gently and felt her caress his face. He leaned into the touch, savoring every glide of her skin on his. Basking on the warmth of her body. It was like being taken to heaven. He felt her sliding her body on his and he arched back. His body silently begging her for a much deeper, more intimate contact...
"Hermione..." he whispered in a trembling voice. "Please..."
It was a plea for acceptance. A plea for the impossible. A plea for love...
She opened the buttons of his shirt and placed a lingering kiss on his chest. Heat spread all over his body at the contact. He had to have her. He had to feel her taking him. Pretending that she loved him. Just this once... Just for this moment he wanted her to love him...
"I love you, Remus..." she whispered to him as she lowered her lips on his and her body straddled him. "I always will..."
The dizzying surge of joy was weakening. She loved him! Him! He was actually trembling as he watched her lips drawing nearer to his. Her hands were caressing his face tenderly. Her eyes searing with such love he could hardly breathe. In an upsurge of urgency, he raised his arms to embrace her...
"Hermione..."
...Only to enfold empty air...
Shaking with supressed emotions, Remus sat up on his bed and looked around him. His room in number twelve Grimmauld Place was dark and spartan just as he kept it. The firewhiskey bottle at his bedside. And he was completely alone...
With a heartsickening lurch he realized that he was only dreaming. None of it was real! He closed his eyes and lay back down on the bed, ignoring the pain that broke inside his skull. He felt like crying.
No. Not all of it was an illussion. He could feel that he was clean and comfortable despite his headache. She must have left when he passed out though he could not remember when that came to pass. Remus gulped down the disappoinment. It was just a dream after all. Just a figment of his imagination. An illusion. A fantasy. The real Hermione Granger would never permit herself to be touched that way by a werewolf no matter how fond she was of him. No woman in her right mind would ever let themselves be sullied by the likes of him. He had to accept that. He had to wake up to that reality.
He clenched his fists and recited the words like a mantra in his mind but he halted when his right hand caught something soft and warm beside his pillow. He raised it up and stared at the scarlet knitted wool scarf. Without thinking, he raised the material to his face and clutched it close. Inhaling deeply and hungrily devouring the warmth emanating from it. Praying for the dream to start again. Begging it to come back and at least let him live with the illussion for a few minutes more... Just a few minutes more...
He fell asleep soundly after awhile. Thoroughly comforted, yet the tears left their trails from his eyes to his cheeks... and dropping onto the well worn material he was clutching so tightly like a lifeline...
/**/*/*/*/
A/N: Mushy, isn't it? Anyway, I'm going to put this fic on rated R just in case I flip and decide I need to go dark on the later chapters (and I plan to though I don't know if I'm going to be any good at it. ^_^;;;) Anyway, read and review, guys!!!