A Year to Remember
By Ange de Socrates
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of her characters, whose copyrights can be found in about a billion different places. (Flicks numerous attorneys off the computer into a goalpost formed by my best friend's fingers, briefcases flying open and papers scattering everywhere.) Now, on to the story.
Chapter Two – Reunited
"PROFESSOR LUPIN?"
Hermione gawked at her former professor, who laughed and nodded.
"It's nice to see you, Hermione," he greeted, leaning over the booth to give her a hug.
Hermione smiled with unrestrained joy and gestured for him to sit with her. "Get over here!" she exclaimed. "We need to catch up!"
Remus gathered up his coffee and newspaper and sat down across from Hermione.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked incredulously once he had taken his seat.
Remus shrugged. "Well, I really didn't know where else to go. I've heard that there's a lot that I didn't see when I was last in London, so I figured, 'Hey, I'll go to London!' I'd heard you were living right around here, but I never expected to see you."
Hermione observed the older wizard as he spoke. He had definitely changed a lot after the war. His blue eyes were brighter and had lost the dark circles that once plagued him. The wrinkles had seemed to diminish, leaving a much more youthful appearance that was true to his age. Remus had also gotten his hair cut, a decision that Hermione quietly applauded – it was shaggy and a lot shorter with a purposely messy style, though it still had a few silvery strands weaving through the sandy locks.
"Well, you were the last person I expected to see here," Hermione replied, warming her hands on her mug. "And you were the last person I expected to be stalking me." She feigned annoyance, but couldn't stop a laugh.
"I didn't want to frighten you," Remus admitted, flushing slightly. "I mean, if I had just showed up behind you all of a sudden, I figured you would have hexed me."
"Honestly, I nearly hexed you just now," Hermione admitted. "But the hex probably would've been sloppier if you'd just snuck up on me – since I saw you tailing me I had time to prepare."
"Very true. My mistake." Remus grinned. "Next time I'll be sure to jump out at you rather than creep around."
Hermione signaled for the friendly waitress, who bustled over carrying a tray with a pot of coffee.
"More, dear?" she asked, putting her hand on the handle.
"Oh, no thanks. I just wondered if I might have the check."
"Oh, right!" The waitress set the tray down and dug the check out of her pocket. She began to hand it to Hermione, but Remus intercepted it.
"No, I insist," he told her when she began to protest. "And I'll take my check as well, ma'am."
"Yes, sir."
Remus took the two checks and dug out some pounds. He went up to the register to pay, and Hermione sat and watched him from afar.
He certainly is looking a lot better, she thought. He's gaining a lot of muscle back. That final attack really did a number on him. Hermione shuddered at the memory. Remus had been one of the few that stood up beside Harry to ultimately defeat Voldemort, and he had been battered by several well-aimed spells from the surviving Death Eaters and Voldemort himself.
"Ready to go?"
"Sure," Hermione replied, breaking off her thoughts. "But where are we going?"
"I was hoping you might come shopping with me," he told her, offering his arm. "I honestly have no idea where I'm going. I've been spending most of my time between Paris and Bruges, so London is a bit foreign to me."
"Sounds like fun," she said, taking his arm. They went outside and walked toward Hermione's car.
"Wow," Remus breathed as he caught sight of the vehicle, kneeling to thoroughly examine the body. "Nice pony, Hermione. How in the world did you get this?"
"My parents bought it for me when I got my Head Girl letter," she explained, wondering how a wizard like Remus knew the first thing about classic American automobiles.
"Really? Congratulations!" Remus exclaimed, squeezing Hermione's shoulder proudly. "I knew you would do it!"
"Yes, well, I had to work quite hard to get it," Hermione told him modestly.
"And no one deserves it more than you," Remus said, ignoring Hermione's humble foot-shuffling. "Now let's get going. I've heard terrific things about what's been done with Harrods."
"You were just there!" Hermione laughed as she unlocked the car and dropped unceremoniously into the bucket seat. "Remember? You were stalking me!"
"And since I was stalking you, I had no time to look around," he countered, opening his door and sliding in.
"Of course – how could I forget?" Hermione rolled her eyes. She started up the car and smiled at the hearty sound. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked happily, turning to Remus.
"Yes," he said softly, staring into her eyes. "Yes, it is."
Hermione blinked a few times, feeling the blood suddenly rushing into her cheeks. "Well, let's get started, shall we?" she said, her voice faltering slightly.
Remus also snapped out of his trance, feeling incredibly foolish. "Right. Let's go."
Hermione put the car into gear and drove leisurely through the city, taking in the sights. She never tired of the simple beauty and majesty that lurked in every corner of the city.
Remus, too, was doing a bit of sightseeing. It had been so long since he had been in London. Well, it had only been a year, actually, when he had done some damage control for the Order after a battle accidentally carried into Trafalgar Square. He spent so much of the last five or six years battling Voldemort and his remaining followers that he'd had no time for himself. Remus didn't regret it, naturally, but sometimes still felt an uncontrollable longing for a simple and settled life.
Only minutes later, the two had arrived at Harrods and were walking toward the men's clothing. Hermione immediately began analyzing Remus in an incredibly by-the-book manner: his build, eye color, hair color, and overall style. Then, she grabbed a light blue crew neck sweater and thrust it at him.
"Try this," she commanded, rummaging through slacks. Remus suppressed a laugh and marched to the fitting room. While he was yanking his shirt off of his head, Hermione threw a pair of dark-wash jeans over the door.
"And these!"
This time, Remus couldn't help but chuckle at Hermione's methodical approach to shopping. His laughter suddenly faded when he saw his unclothed chest in the mirror. He frowned and turned to see his back. Both sides were tainted by scars from various hexes, bullets, knives, and an unstoppable animal that took refuge inside his own body.
Remus traced his finger over a rather long, ragged line on his left upper chest. That was where he had taken a slash from a knife that was meant for James. And on his right lower back was the small, ring-shaped scar he had received when he had accidentally been branded on a Scottish farm as a boy while playing amongst the calves.
He snorted bitterly. You'd think a wizard would be able to get rid of the marks. Remus turned around once more, and then pulled the blue shirt over his head. Proof of my heroism, he thought sardonically. He took off his ragged pants and pulled on the new jeans. When he looked in the mirror again, Remus smiled. Much better.
"Are you going to make me wait all day?" Hermione called from outside the door. She heard it open, and Remus walked out a new man.
"A perfect fit," he told her. "How did you know what size I am? Do a little bit of stalking as well?"
"Well," Hermione said, shrugging, "I'm not too bad at guessing." She gave him another look-over, and then walked to the back. "Looks great!"
"It does," Remus agreed, smoothing the shirt down self-consciously. "Anything else?"
"I did happen to find a few more things…"
ABOUT AN HOUR and a half later, Hermione and Remus were walking out of Harrods with four bags full of clothes for Remus. They loaded them into the trunk, got into the car, and was about to start it when she gasped.
"What is it?" Remus asked as he buckled his seat belt.
"I've totally lost track of the time!" Hermione exclaimed, letting her head fall onto the steering wheel. She jumped back with a yelp when her horn honked and ignored a startled old man who shook his fist at her. "My mum's going to kill me!"
"Don't worry. I'm sure she'll understand. Just tell her you ran into an old friend."
"I doubt she'll listen," Hermione stated glumly. "My mum's always been the strict type."
"Well, if you need any support, you know where to find me," Remus offered, patting her hand.
Hermione looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Actually, I have no idea where to find you. I don't know where you're staying."
Remus frowned. "Good point. As a matter of fact, I don't know where I'm staying."
Hermione's face brightened, and for a moment her innate aversion to anything irrational or unplanned disappeared. "Stay with me!"
"What?" Remus was sure he misheard.
"I said, stay with me!" Hermione repeated, a sense of apprehension and fear of rejection growing inside her. "It would be great! And I wouldn't be alone in the house for the rest of the summer."
"I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Remus started, rubbing the back of his neck. He had a great deal of control, but if he were left to his devices in a house alone with such a beautiful woman…
"Oh, come on," Hermione pleaded.
"Your mum and dad wouldn't be happy with me…" Remus tried, propriety beginning to fail him.
"They won't know! And honestly, they wouldn't care." Hermione laughed at Remus' incredulous look. "Okay, maybe they would care! But please, stay with me. It's the least I can do for a friend."
Remus sighed. "Fine. I guess if they don't know…"
"Great! Let's get going."
Remus couldn't continue to argue with her because she had already turned on the radio and was singing along to the Beatles' "Hey Jude."
This is going to come back to bite you in the ass, Remus thought to himself. What are you thinking? Staying alone with a seventeen-year-old without parental consent? Dumbledore would kill me!
Remus kept berating and questioning himself for the rest of the ride to Hermione's house.
About a half-hour later, Hermione pulled into the driveway and turned off the car.
Remus whistled softly. "Nice place," he whispered.
"Thanks," Hermione whispered back.
"How do I get in?" Remus asked quietly, guilt still burning inside him.
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. Can you use magic?"
It was Remus' turn to shake his head. "It would be all right, were it not for the fact that your parents are Muggles." He looked around at the countryside surrounding them, only seeing cows and horses grazing in the distance. "They appear to be the only ones for miles."
"All the better that you're here to keep me safe and company!" Hermione said brightly.
Remus couldn't help but return Hermione's enthusiastic smile.
After a few moments of deep concentration, Remus snapped his fingers. "I've got it!" he said excitedly. He grinned sheepishly at Hermione, who was holding a finger to her lips. "I've got it!" he repeated in a softer voice. "I'll use…" he rummaged through the small bag at his feet, "This!"
"You've got one as well?" Hermione asked in awe.
"I got it a couple years ago, when I… Well, the circumstances aren't important." Remus suddenly felt a bit embarrassed as he sat holding his aged Invisibility Cloak, which he had acquired through questionable means.
"Well, come on then, put it on! We've got to get you inside," Hermione said hurriedly, throwing open the trunk and pulling out the bags.
They walked to the front door, and before Hermione could put her key in the lock, the door swung open, and she was face to face with her mother.
"Where have you been?" Lydia exclaimed, pulling Hermione in and quickly shutting the door. Hermione heard a muffled grunt and coughed to cover the noise. "We have to leave in five minutes and you're out parading through London!" She shoved Hermione toward the stairs with instructions to put her bags in her room so she could help with the luggage.
Hermione quickly dumped the bags on her bed, crept downstairs, and opened the door. "Upstairs, right staircase, second door on the left," she whispered, shutting the door quietly as she felt Remus brush past her.
"Hermione!" Hermione whirled around, her eyes wide. "Hurry up, dear! You know your father can't lift the bags because of his back!"
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, afraid her parents somehow knew about her houseguest. "Right, Mum." She took the steps two at a time and found the bags waiting for her by the door to her parents' room. She took both at once and lugged them down the steps, wishing for the thousandth time that her mother hadn't insisted upon building such a long staircase when they had remodeled.
"Good Lord, Hermione!" Lydia shrieked when she spotted her daughter walking down with both suitcases in hand. "You're going to throw out your back, too, you silly girl!"
"I…am…not!" Hermione protested, huffing and puffing.
"Fine, but don't come running to me when your spine snaps!" Lydia walked back to the kitchen to nag her husband about plane tickets.
"Let me help," a voice whispered in Hermione's ear. Hermione shook out her right arm as the bag was slipped out of her hand and carried by another invisible one.
"Thanks," Hermione said, still panting.
"It's the least I can do," Remus replied. They reached the bottom of the stairs and continued outside to the Granger family van. The two loaded the bags into the trunk and went back inside.
Suddenly, Lydia came bustling out of the kitchen with Christian close behind. "Goodbye, love," she said hurriedly, kissing Hermione's cheeks. "See you soon! And don't forget the rules!"
"Bye, kid," Christian said, kissing his daughter's forehead. "Don't forget to write once you're at school."
The elder Grangers rushed out the front door and the younger one locked it. Behind Hermione, Remus stripped off his cloak and marveled at the size of the Granger residence.
"Great place, Hermione," he told her, staring at the huge ceilings and chandeliers that hung from them.
"Thanks," Hermione replied, smiling proudly. "We call it…"
Her words melted in her throat stopped as the deadbolt was unlocked and the door started to open.
"Shit!" Hermione whispered. She looked around wildly, and then, without thinking, shoved Remus into the living room, sending him crashing quietly into a squashy couch. A curse echoed through the room as he toppled over and behind it.
The door creaked all the way open and Christian Granger stepped into the foyer. "Forgot the tickets!" he exclaimed, walking into the kitchen. He ran back out as Lydia honked the horn in the driveway. "Bye darling!" He kissed Hermione again and started back out the door, but paused as he caught sight of a silvery, flowing material lying on the ground.
"What's that?" Christian inquired, stepping closer to the cloak.
Hermione was dumbstruck for a moment, but quickly recovered. "Oh!" she said overenthusiastically, sweeping up the cloak, "Just something I bought at Harrods today. It's the latest fashion in cloaks!" She held it up for him to admire.
"Wow," Christian said, reaching out to touch the cloak. Hermione flinched, but luckily the horn honked again and Christian yanked his hand away. "Best be off! Bye now!"
"Bye, Dad!"
Hermione sighed with relief and locked the door behind her father, waiting to hear the van pull away. She went into the living room, where Remus was rubbing his rear.
"You know, I could have gotten back under the cloak!" he told her grumpily.
Hermione looked remorseful. "I'm really sorry, I just couldn't think!"
Remus gave her a smile, not having meant to upset her. "It's all right. Just going to have a sore bum tomorrow." They both laughed, albeit nervously.
"Oh, by the way, you should know that I have plenty of Wolfsbane potion for when…" He trailed off, knowing Hermione could fill in the blank. "So, are you going to give me the grand tour?" he asked, taking his cloak back.
"Sure!" Hermione said happily, taking Remus by the arm and pulling him into the foyer. "I was going to tell you that this place was called the Owen House."
"Interesting. Any particular reason?"
"A man named Candide Owen built this house." She nodded at the look of recognition that planted itself on Remus' face. "Yes, like the book by Voltaire." Hermione guided Remus through the house as they chatted amicably about what each had been occupied with over the past few months.
"So you've been doing business for the Order?" Hermione asked.
"A bit," Remus said, avoiding divulging too much information for the sake of Hermione's own safety. "Some spells here, some hexes there, that sort of thing. Mostly just traveling, though."
"You said Paris and Bruges?" Hermione sighed. "I bet it was beautiful."
Remus looked incredulous. "You've never been to Paris?"
Hermione shook her head. "I've always wanted to go, but I've never had the chance. My studies keep me pretty busy." She grinned. "And that Fleur Delacour sort of put me off the idea."
"That's really too bad," Remus said sympathetically. "You know, I've always wanted to go to Budapest, and I've never had the chance."
The young witch smiled. "Well, one day you can take me to Paris, and I'll take you to Budapest."
Remus smiled outwardly, but inside his stomach was twisting itself into knots. "I'll take you up on that."
As Hermione continued to lead him around the house, Remus struggled internally. Student… Harry's best friend… Young enough to be your daughter… Wrong on every imaginable level. The wolf growled inside. Do not touch.
"Professor?"
Remus jumped. Hermione was looking at him oddly.
"Mm?
"You growled." Hermione crossed her arms looking a bit worried.
"Yes. Yes I did," Remus said lamely. He tried to improvise as they stood in the kitchen. "I was, er, hungry. Very hungry. Do you have any… kiwi?"
Hermione laughed a bit, though she marveled at her former professor's strange behavior. "Sure. Kiwi." She walked to the refrigerator and pulled two kiwis from the crisping drawer.
Remus paced the kitchen as Hermione peeled the fruits. He walked to the bay window and looked out on the garden. "You've got lovely roses out there," he remarked, peering out at the perfectly-pruned bushes.
"My dad loves his roses," Hermione said, flipping a piece of kiwi peel down the disposal drain. "His other children, you see."
"Did he want more kids?" Remus asked, realizing too late how personal the question was. "I mean, you don't have to answer that…"
"My mum didn't want any others," she answered, brushing off the apology. "I'm trouble enough for her!"
Remus laughed. "I wouldn't say you're trouble."
Hermione glanced at him. "Really?"
He knew better than to answer that question. Honestly, he was beginning to think she'd be a lovely bit of trouble to handle.
"Order up!" Hermione finished slicing the kiwi and arranged it on a plate, sliding it along the counter to where Remus stood admiring the gardens.
"Thanks," Remus said graciously, tasting of the bittersweet fruit.
Hermione smiled. "Not at all. Have a seat, and I'll just wash up." She ran the knife under the water and accidentally dropped it under the strong current, slicing her finger down the side. The pain seared almost as hot as the water running down the sink, carrying her blood with it.
"Bloody fucking hell!" she mumbled grumpily, examining the shallow wound that ran down her right index finger.
"You all right?" Remus asked.
"Just a little cut, that's all." Hermione winced as the cut trickled blood.
Remus' senses perked up at the smell of the fresh wound, but he maintained control. The wolf couldn't have control of him for another couple of weeks.
But when Hermione took the injured finger in her mouth to stop the bleeding, the man, not the werewolf, lost control. He quickly jumped to his feet.
"Excuse me for a minute," Remus said shakily, hurrying toward the restroom.
Hermione removed the digit and looked at it again, and then in the direction in which Remus had scurried. It wasn't anywhere near the full moon – why had the cut startled him so?
And then it hit her.
"Of course!" she said triumphantly. "Any grown man would've been turned on by that."
But a former professor?
Hermione was slightly perplexed. She was no innocent, but the idea that her professor was harboring some kind of feelings for her was… Actually, it was exciting. Foreign, but exciting nonetheless.
And I could be reading into this far too much, Hermione reminded herself. Maybe he just really had to use the loo. The fact that I was sucking a phallic object was a complete coincidence.
A few moments later, Remus reentered the kitchen. "Sorry. Had to… you know."
"No problem," Hermione said, not sure what else to say. They both stood awkwardly for a moment.
Remus faked a yawn, anxious to distance himself from temptation. "Well, I realize it's early, but I'm feeling quite tired. Mind showing me to my room?"
Hermione finished drying the knife that had sliced her open and put it in a drawer. "Absolutely. Follow me."
The two walked upstairs in silence and down the hall across from Hermione's room.
"Thanks for giving me a place to stay," Remus said, breaking the uncomfortable quiet. "Whenever you need me to pack my bags, just let me know."
"Don't be silly!" Hermione laughed. "You're staying for the summer, and that's final."
Remus smiled. "I'll see you in the morning, then."
She nodded. "See you." Hermione turned and entered her room before another silence could develop between them. She shut the door softly and got ready for bed, turning on her stereo so that she could talk to herself without risk of being overheard.
"A teacher? A teacher!" Hermione tugged off her clothes and slipped into a comfortable pair of gym shorts and a white shirt. "This can only end in tears. Or litigation." She sighed. "I mean, is it worth pursuing a tiny little crush when you run the chance of being expelled or ruining your future career?"
As a matter of fact, this "little crush" had persisted since her third year at Hogwarts. Remus Lupin was, as far as she could tell, the perfect man. Charming, traditional, incredibly masculine, quite good-looking, and (more recently) well-dressed, Hermione could hardly see a downside. And where her young, racing hormones were concerned, the danger of his monthly transformations made him even sexier.
"Since when did I think of him as sexy?" Hermione wondered aloud. She snorted, slipping under the sheets and picking up a book. "He is, and I've always known that."
Across the hall, Remus lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. I've had plenty of feelings that I've been able to ignore, he reasoned. What makes Hermione Granger any different?
A/N: As a reminder, this story is to be considered both AU and OOC. Obviously certain characters aren't alive as of HP7, and obviously Hermione would never hook up with a teacher, let alone have such devious thoughts to begin with. Remus, on the other hand, would definitely be a beast in bed. ;-)
Thanks for reading. As long as you're reading, I'll keep revising. And eventually writing new chaps.