PART IV: IMPERATIVE

As a child, Remus Lupin had always determined to make the absolute most of his twisted life, combating the lunar physicality with mental acuity at all other times. It shouldn't matter that he lost control once a month; after all, his female friends did it with much less regularity and predictability! And that was without mentioning the Id personified that was Sirius Black! Sadly, however, that flippant careless attitude was lost with the onset of true maturity. Life became a constant restitution for Greyback's umbrage.

It was brutal that his life should be further complicated by the loss of many of his strongest supports and friends.

After dinner, once again ensconced in his cell-turned-confessor, Remus allowed himself to relax upon his bed, thinking meanwhile, how very much Hermione had reminded him of Molly Weasley for a moment as she left. A strangled vocalization split the quiet of his room.

He laughed again.

Amazing how so much choler from the previous events in his sanctuary could be dispelled by uninhibited laughter. He laughed at Hermione's upset that he would miss her tea-party, at Molly's indignation towards his revulsion of spinach casserole. Harry's face when Severus begged his pardon for upsetting his glass of water, Fred Weasley's not-to-subtle attempt to get his girlfriend alone, and the resemblance of the centerpiece to Hermione's untameable hair all prompted uncharacteristic chortles from him, not heard since the days of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.

His door slammed open, revealing Hermione's concerned face, followed by those of Molly, Ron, Harry, Fred, and Moody's scent could be detected through the wall. Remus shut his mouth, but his stomach vibrated, the corners of his mouth turning inexorably up. He clapped his hands to his mouth as an incredible guffaw escaped him, making the onlookers look at each other, obviously telepathically inquiring whose strait jacket was more conveniently located. Remus attempted to get up, and it worked for a second before he fell upon his knees, forced by his jolliness to point at them and laugh uproariously.

Hermione was the first to crack. Her pleasure at seeing Remus whole for a change transformed her face into a smile, prompting a couple of answering gleeful laughs from her throat. She jumped forward and tried to give him a hug, landing on her bum, at which event, the comic value of Remus fruitlessly striving to look apologetic as his whole body shook broke whatever reserve she maintained. She leaned against Remus with tears of amusement leaking periodically out of her wrinkled eyes, joining him in wholehearted laughter.

Ron edged closer to Harry unconsciously, his always easily-read face declaring his fear for his safety near Lupin. Unfortunately for him, he was noticed, and the hilarity was catching. Harry smirked, feeling the bubbles of merriment rising in him, even as he experienced triumph for Remus' obvious happiness.

Harry giggled.

Moody snorted at Harry.

Molly observed them all in bewilderment, eyes sparkling as her expression fought between sternness and humor.

Ron nervously laughed at Harry's reaction, then couldn't stop upon seeing his mother lose her poise.

Fred observed everyone deadpan, then apparated away. Only a few moments of unadulterated joy later, the two Weasley twins reappeared, rolling on the floor in the throws of hysterical levity.

This gleeful exuberance continued for only a few more minutes, as breathing does become a necessity, even for wizards. Remus and Hermione didn't notice as Mrs. Weasley ushered, and in Fred and George's case, levitated, everyone out of the room, still sniggering.

Finally reaching the aftermath of the temporary insanity, Remus observed a flushed Hermione wiping the tears from her face and hands. She caught his eyes, hope and humor calling most loudly from her changing expression. Leaning forward, she clasped him in a tight embrace, sighing with the relief of a patient faithful lover for a soldier returned from beyond hope. "I cannot describe how seeing your smile has cured me."

Hugging her back, Remus found himself naturally reaching with one hand to support her neck against him, the other clutching her waist as if her loss was an expected event he could not bear to face.

Sitting there, silently holding each other, there was inclination, no need for the next few minutes to contain actions, so they remained, in a caress of quietude.

Regretfully, the pair disengaged as if by mutual consent. Needing to distance himself from the previous moments, he stood up and leaned against the wall, several feet from Hermione's seat on the floor. The corners of her mouth curved up, attempting to hide the fear of his rejection. They both knew that was what this scene should hold, by the standards of many.

Remus broke the peace, speaking as gently as he could, "You know that I, at least, am not 'cured' by any means, and that such a cure does not, in fact exist? I cannot turn around from a suicide experience and embrace life with a carefree heart." Admitting it out loud, though he had known it was his doom since childhood still brought a fresh batch of grief, even just for the sad state of his own existence. "I am grateful beyond words that you thought me worthy of battling my worser self, and you may be sure that I will recall your fierce words when I am most lost."

"I am so relieved and proud!" Obviously wanting to support him with a hug, Hermione fought her impulse and spoke instead the truth of her anxiety, "But can't I be there to speak to you? Must we rely upon memories of each other to keep us alive!"

"No, of course," Remus replied cautiously. "We'll remain friends. That's-"

"Friends? Remain friends? Why, how long has this been going on? I had no idea we were friends!"

"Hermione-"

"No, hear me out! First, I was your student. Perhaps we were friends then, but you went away to work for the Order, and I grew up. Next we were guests in the same house, civil acquaintances I would call us, or if anything, I was still your charge until I left school. Even then you kept to the role of protector, and you have no idea how much obsessive and stalker-like observing it took to get to know the real you- and don't look at me! I didn't mean it like that! Must everybody in this dratted house have a mind like a Weasley boy!" She paused for breath. Shaking her bushy hair she continued, "That was in the past. In the last twenty-four hours I declared my love for you and somehow convinced you to preserve your life. And we're 'remaining friends!'"

"As I was trying to tell you before, with considerably fewer histrionics, it would be imprudent as well as incredibly destructive to even discuss a relationship of the kind you wish to attempt while I am such an unholy mess." Remus was showing a few signs of irritation.

"Why?" She barked. "Do you think I cannot support you? Do you think I am afraid of the wolf? Are you afraid of needing someone? You cannot even say 'love'!"

Irritation was the least of her worries now. His wolfish pride roused itself. "Miss, I do not need to be supported, I don't need your approval, and I am NOT afraid of you! It is common sense that when one is in a less-than-stable mental state, it is bloody stupid to try and be with anyone else! I cannot believe how selfish you're being!"

If one listened carefully, which is impossible when blood is rushing in one's ears, one could hear the slight creaking outside from an eavesdropper. Her fury joined his, strengthened by hurt. "WHY REMUS LUPIN! I'M selfish! I love you so much I'd give my life for yours, I told you! How could you say that?"

He winced. "Perhaps a better way of sharing that would have been to question your maturity, but I was wary to do that. If you really love me, you'll wait." 'Bloody hell,' he thought, 'I sound like some ingénue protecting her virginity in a cheap comedy.'

She recognized the humor, as well as the sense, in that remark. Her facial flush diminished as her rage subsided. "But-" Her lip pouted. He could see that her delicate girlish fantasy of Florence Nightengale-ing him to health broke now it had more reality than romance. Her gaze at him was having a definite response, but he knew that if he could make a life, someday, with Hermione, he did not want to be responsible for ruining it as he had her fairy tale love story.

And truly, how long could she be expected to wait? He was only getting older, and she must have turned down many men, perhaps some in the house, in her love for him. True, young love often did not last, but she was right. If any man deserved a try at happiness at last, it was him. He deserved to be adored by a woman who would keep him young with her lively discussions and youthful passions. She deserved a man who would treasure her for her prodigal wisdom, her instinctive heart, and her precious love for him. And, he realized, he was that man.

While he'd lost himself in thought, Hermione had grown resigned to his refusal to consider her love. She visually deflated, slowly stepping to her feet, seeming smaller than she had in the midst of her fury when she'd been seated on the floor. A light sigh escaped her lips, and she turned to the door.

"Wait." His voice, calm and rational as he could make it, was able to halt her progress. "You know this is the right thing to do? You know we shouldn't rush into decisions that could harm us?"

"I-" Her voice was scratchy all of a sudden. "I suppose so."

"After all, if anything were to happen, you'd no doubt want it to happen naturally, as a result of pure romantic love, not polluted by emotional neediness." She nodded, obviously not hearing him. "Since I don't think you understand, let me give you a point of comparison until then-"

Smoothly, he stepped in her path, raised her arms to his shoulders, and lifted her chin. A few tears of pain showed in her eyes, amplifying the confusion he'd hoped to create. A step closer had her trembling as he tenderly smiled into her eyes. The kiss was short by make-out standards, but by no means a chaste peck. He directed his newly-realized love, his despised neediness, his willingness to try, and his fear of failing her into it, which was quite enough to overwhelm the bookish young woman. He was overwhelmed in turn by the emotions she kindled in him. Several momentary doubts about putting off the relationship endangered his resolution to take some time off before declaring his own unforeseen amorous partiality.

He pulled away, giving them a chance to share awe-filled and admiring glances. When Hermione made to 'improve' upon it, Remus stepped back further, an amused but still desirous look on his face. "While my whimsy would gladly be whisked away by you, I refuse to allow yourself to be used so cheaply. This, whatever it ends up being, will start off slowly. We'll be friends first, is this acceptable?"

She just smiled at him, admiring both his physical attributes, so recently experienced in their embrace, as well as his courtesy and higher values evidenced by his restraint. If this was what he needed, her face showed, she would wait, at least for a little while, until he sorted himself out. Her eyebrow said that he'd better hurry.

Remus crossed back to her and squeezed her tightly, finally counting her among his blessings. As she left the room, floating, he put his hand to his mouth and decided something.

'We will definitely have to do that again.'