●Chapter Three●
Keeping Secrets
Hermione stood at the door as she watched the group of witches and wizards, containing Alastor Mood, Nymphadora Tonks, and Aveon Thistle, depart from Number 12 Grimmauld Place. She waved, smiling as best as she could as she listened to the pops signally disapparation. After a few moments of staring out the door at the night, which was quickly becoming morning, Hermione closed the door and retreated into the kitchen. Her eyes fell upon Remus Lupin, who was fast asleep near the end of the table, his head resting in his folded arms.
Hermione smiled weakly, walking about the table. She picked up dirtied cups that had contained tea and coffee; both meant to help the group of people stay away while Aveon finished his recuperation in the parlor. Before departing, Tonks had hugged Hermione and told her to take good care of Remus, Mundungus had clapped her on the back while making a few lewd jokes, and Moody had given her a reassuring smile. Now, there were gone and Hermione couldn't help but admit to herself that she already missed their company.
The brunette carried the cups over to the sink, setting them as gently as she could in the sink. The clinked a little as she tried to organize them gently. She heard Remus let out a snore that made her giggle slightly as she turned on the water and begin to wash the cups. While she rubbed the residue from the drinks out of the inside of the various mugs and goblets, her thoughts couldn't help but backtrack to the past few months and what Moody had told her. He was right. She needed to be prepared to tell everyone of the bun she had in the oven, because both Mrs. Weasley and her daughter had very strong intuition when it came to find things out. It was almost clairvoyant.
Hermione had been so enthralled with her thoughts that she hadn't heard the chair sliding back as Remus stood up. He rubbed his eyes, trying to rid them of sleep. He turned and saw Hermione standing over the sink, washing out cups. It was the first time in a long while that he was able to just look at her, without feeling weird. She had matured a lot in her years, having turned from a little girl with her nose always in a book to a woman who had so much passion and love for everything she did. He watched her as she finished up the cups and looked at the wall before her. Her hand came to rest on her belly, where there was a little bit of a bulge forming.
Hermione was a sweet girl, and, when he thought about it, he was very angry at the person who had put her in such a situation. He didn't know who the father of her baby was but whoever it was he should have considered himself lucky to have been with a girl like Hermione. How could they have abandoned her? He sighed and rubbed his head. Who was he to talk? He didn't understand women himself. He had been so sure that Tonks was ready to settle down with him, have a family with him…but he'd been so wrong. He knew it was being selfish, but maybe, if the father of Hermione's baby never surfaced…maybe he would have an active part in its raising…like an uncle figure or something of such.
"Remus?" Hermione questioned, pulling him from his reverie. He looked up and saw that she was standing in front of him, a concerned look on her face. "Are you alright? You look pale." Remus shook his head a little, coming back to himself.
"Oh yes, I'm fine, Hermione," he reassured, giving her a gentle smile. "Just tired I suppose. You should be getting to bed soon, too. You've been up all night and I'm sure you're exhausted, with the day you had yesterday." Hermione smiled at him, stepping toward him. She cupped his cheek gently.
"You always were terribly sweet, Remus," she said. She felt a lurch in her stomach as she recalled just who the father of her baby was. She felt the urge to tell him rising up in her but she pushed it back within her. "I'm not all that tired, though, after all of that excitement." She chuckled a little, her hand finding her stomach again. "But, judging by that nap you just woke up from, you could probably sleep for the rest of the day."
Remus laughed a little, making his way over to the counter and preparing to make coffee. "A little bit of coffee in me and it will be like I slept for eight hours."
"That can't be healthy," she joked, sitting down at the table and picking up Fleur's baby shower invitation from where it had remained.
"Do you want some coffee?" asked Remus, looking over his shoulder at the brunette sitting nearly four feet away. Hermione turned back to him and gave him another sweet, but sad smile.
"It's probably not good for the baby," she replied, patting her stomach affectionately. Remus nodded, returning to his task. A heavy silence fell between them.
He was filling his cup when Remus spoke again. "Hermione…I hope you won't think me too forward but…do you plan…erm…do you plan to keep the baby…when you have it?" He felt strange and awkward, asking her questions like a nosy schoolboy.
Hermione was stunned silent. This was something she hadn't thought too heavily about. She had been too worried about keeping it quiet and Remus not finding out the truth that giving up the baby for adoption had never crossed her mind. And now that it had, it didn't seem very appealing. She was already sad that her child would probably never know its real father as anything other than a friend that mommy had. The thought of giving her child up where it wouldn't have either of its real parents made Hermione's heart squeeze uncomfortably.
"Yes," she breathed, folding her hands in front of her. "I could never get an abortion and…I don't want to give up my child…even if they will never know their real father…" She realized how quiet she was speaking and turned to look at Remus, who was stirring something into his coffee. "I'm sorry. I probably sound really depressing."
"Not at all, 'Mione," he replied, giving her a sweet smile and taking the seat next to hers. "I think you are handling everything really well considering your situation. I think you will make a fantastic mother." He took a sip of his coffee, resting his hand over hers affectionately.
"Thanks, Remus," she said, smiling as tears filled eyes. "That really means a lot to me coming from you. You always know the right thing to say." She sniffed, wiping her eyes and patting his hand with her free one. "You will make a wonderful father someday, Remus."
An awkward silence fell between them, Remus drinking his coffee with Hermione staring at the door leading to the lobby. A couple of times one of them would open their mouth to speak, stop, and then think better of it.
"Hermione," began Remus, finally, "when you do have the baby…you know, I will always be here for you. If you need a babysitter, I'm your man. I love kids." Hermione felt the tears coming quickly and before she knew it, she was broken down, bawling on the kitchen table.
Remus comforted her, holding her and rubbing her back, not quite sure why she had broken down so suddenly, but choosing to attribute it to her pregnancy. After a while, Hermione had cried herself to sleep. Remus chuckled to himself as he scooped her up into his arms and left the kitchen, starting his ascent up the long staircase. When he finally reached Hermione's room, he shouldered open the door. Her room was dimly lit by a fire and the smell that greeted Remus was distinctly feminine, rushing him. The smell was incredibly familiar, like he had smelled it in detail before.
Shaking his head to bring himself back to reality, he crossed the room to Hermione's large bed. He struggled a little to pull the covers back but eventually succeeded in his attempts. He leaned forward to set Hermione in the middle of the bed, shrugging more of the covers aside. He was getting up to cover her when her arms, which had found their way around his neck while he was climbing the stairs, tightened around him and pulled him onto the bed. Hermione let out a quiet snore as he tried to pull away.
"Noo…" murmured Hermione, pulling him closer to her. "Don't go…I don't want…alone…" Her brows furrowed together in her sleep and she gave a slightly hurt and haunted expression through her dreaming, which caused Remus to feel bad. With a sigh, he climbed into the bed and settled himself next to her. He pulled the covers over Hermione as he lay over them, trying to preserve propriety.
Remus turned on his side to look at Hermione. Throughout most of his years, he had watched Hermione grow from a thirteen-year-old girl into a young adult, and it had always prevented him from making the mental transition that Hermione was now a woman. Furthermore, she was a beautiful woman and incredibly intelligent. Remus had respected her, even as a thirteen-year-old girl, for the amount of knowledge that she was able and willing to absorb. She was a fantastic student and a noble and passionate woman. Any man would have been happy to have had her, and the man who would put her in such a position and then leave was a bastard.
Through all of his thoughts, Remus fell asleep, his hand resting on Hermione's, as the sun slowly began creeping over the horizon.
When Hermione awoke, she let out a long, lethargic yawn and stretched. Well, she attempted to stretch anyway. And, as a result of that attempt, she smacked someone in the face. Without thinking, she jumped out of bed, yelling a hurried "I'm so sorry!" She stopped as she stared at Remus, holding his nose as leaning over the edge of the bed. He groaned and pulled his hand away, staring at the blood on his hand from his nose.
"Quite a right hook, 'Mione," he mumbled, rubbing his nose gingerly.
"Remus, I—you—why are you in my bed?" she asked, still standing back by the side of the bed.
He sniffed, wincing at the pain as more blood dribbled out of his nose. He tilted his head back to prevent the blood from splashing onto the floor.
"I was bringing you to bed last night—er—this morning," he began, dabbing his nose on his sleeve. "And as I was putting you in your bed, you asked me to stay—or something along the lines of not wanting to be alone. I promise I was a gentleman, 'Mione."
Hermione stared at Remus for a moment, wondering why she felt so nervous. She sighed, straightening up a little, and climbed back onto the bed. She crawled over to him, took his chin, gently, in her hands and looked at his nose. It didn't seem to have been broken, but it had been smacked fairly well. She blushed a little, examining the damage she had done and avoiding his golden stare.
Remus watched Hermione as she looked at his bleeding nose. Her hand was very gentle as she touched his chin, guiding it from side to side to get a better look. He felt the softness of her skin against his five o'clock shadow and watched as her chocolate eyes took in the features of his nose. He noticed something resembling a sad insecurity dwindling in her eyes and brushed a few stray strands of chestnut hair from her face.
Hermione stopped and watched his hand flutter her hair from her face, a slight blush covering his cheeks. She picked up her wand from her bedside table, carefully avoiding his gaze, and tapped her wand on his nose. The bleeding stopped immediately and the pain vanished. She smiled weakly as handed him a tissue from a box beside her bed. Her eyes followed his hands as they lifted the tissue to his nose to dab the blood away.
"Sorry again," she mumbled, eyeing him as he tossed the tissue in her wastepaper basket. He gave her a reassuring smile as he wiggled his nose a little.
"It's alright, Hermione," he laughed. "Stop apologizing."
Silence fell between them once more as Remus sat on the edge of her bed and Hermione sat, on her knees, in the middle.
"It seems we've been at a loss for words quite frequently of late," Remus stated, scratching his stubble.
"Yeah…" Hermione replied, fidgeting nervously.
"Hermione," ventured Remus, drawing her gaze to him. "I have been getting this feeling lately—this feeling that you have something you want to say…but you never say anything. Have I done something wrong, perhaps?"
"No!" exclaimed Hermione, a little louder and more enthusiastically than she had meant to. "I mean…no, Remus. You haven't done anything. It's just been all this stress lately with everything that's been going on and—well, you know—and I feel like I'm passing my stress onto you. You've looked just dreadful the last few months."
Remus paused as Hermione finished her sentence and then let a chuckle escape his lips. He pulled Hermione into a strong hug, patting her back.
"Such a charmer, 'Mione," he laughed, looking down at her with a smile on his face. After a moment of chuckling, he sighed. "Hermione, you are very dear to me. You and I have spent a lot of time together these past few months and it has become increasingly easier everyday to tell when you are upset." Hermione opened her mouth to respond but he shook his head. "I know I haven't looked my best these last four or five months, but you have to take into account that Tonks and I had been rowing back and forth for a good bit of time, which was stressful and depressing in itself." Hermione felt her heart sink as she saw the saddened look that crossed his face at the mention of Tonks. "Along with that, I've had to deal with the horrible side effects to those nasty Wolfsbane potions that I have to take. My senses have been dulled and after more than thirty years of having such keen senses, I'm a little put off and out of sorts without their normal sharpness. Yes, my senses of smelling, hearing, and seeing are still better than average, but for a werewolf, they are horribly dull. In fact, it's gotten to where I can't distinguish smells between people, which is both a curse and a blessing. I mean, sure, I don't smell the awful scent of that Mundungus brings in with him, but I also don't' smell the exquisite smells of food as I once did, either. I've adjusted, sure, but it's still a little bit of a put off and still throws me off from time to time." He smiled at Hermione once more, patting her head gently. "So don't go off thinking it's all your fault, 'Mione, because I assure you that it isn't. Alright?"
Hermione nodded, returning his smile weakly. "Alright."
"Now, let's get up and head down into the kitchen for breakfast and tea," he said, releasing her from his embrace. She nearly frowned at how cold she felt so suddenly as he stood from the bed and started toward the door. "I'm sure you want to change your clothes and possibly take a shower, so I'll wait for you in the kitchen. Molly was talking of coming over sometime this week and I'm sure it would lift your spirits to see her and the young Miss Ginevra Weasley."
He closed the door behind him as he left. Hermione listened to the sound of his footsteps as she descended down the stairs and then, when the sound disappeared she fell back onto the bed. How was she going to manage to keep her secret from him if he insisted on being such a gentleman?
A/N: So there it is; the next installment of Wolf Mother, incredibly late and probably not making any sense. I hope you all like it, though. Next update to come shortly. 3
