Hermione had left the room silence and tense. Remus was irate at himself. He didn't know what had compelled him to say what he did, but he knew that he regretted it. The look on Hermione's face had been terrible. It was like all her insecurities and fears welled up, so visible to him as he watched her.

He needed to do something, and at least try to make it up to Hermione. He decided that he'd start with Severus. The bloody bastard had it coming after being so cruel about his punishments towards Gryffindors. Remus wouldn't let Severus get away with this.

The werewolf stormed down to the dungeon, seething with anger and frightening a couple first years along the way. He knocked on the Potions Master's classroom loudly. It was a moment later that Severus opened up, a bored expression on his face. "Make it quick, Lupin. I'm brewing."

Remus clenched his jaw, "Why did you give Hermione detention?" His voice was strained with irritation.

Severus seemed amused, which only angered Remus further. "Did she not tell you the whole story? She drew her wand at another student. I don't know what standard you hold your wife to, but I will certainly not tolerate such aggression."

"The others were provoking her!" Remus barked back, his voice rising, "Surely you realize that she must have had a reason for acting like that."

Severus sighed, "Drawing a wand is different than simple childish taunts. I won't be revoking her detention, especially after this little tirade you put me through. Miss Granger should be more responsible than this. The Head Girl shouldn't have to resort to using her husband to get out of detentions."

"It's Mrs. Lupin now," Remus said flatly before turning and storming out of the dungeons. He didn't look back, but if he had, there would probably be a self-satisfied smirk on Snape's face. The bastard.

Remus arrived back to his rooms, falling onto the couch and mulling over how much he'd messed up tonight. Suddenly, he just felt a million times more terrible for this whole situation. Hermione was a bright, young, beautiful girl. She had never planned on getting married to her old, worn out professor. He'd always been fairly sure that Hermione had planned on marrying Ron one day. That had seemed to be the general consensus between everyone they knew.

But she couldn't marry Ron anymore. She was stuck with Remus. Instead of having a husband who she loved, she got an awkward roommate and a blaring stain on her reputation.

After her little disagreement with Remus, Hermione had made a couple laps around the school to clear her head. Once the other classes were out, she went to dinner with Ginny, Ron, and Harry. None seemed to notice that something was amiss with Hermione, but she was glad that she didn't have to talk about it.

They hung around the Common Room after dinner. She spent some quality time with her friends, and it did brighten up her mood a little. Nevertheless, when she realized that it was after curfew and she had to go back to Remus, her mood dropped.

As the Head Girl, Hermione was allowed to stay out an hour after curfew. She occasionally made post-curfew rounds along with prefects and teachers. Tonight, however, she didn't have rounds to make, and therefore wasn't really supposed to be out of bed. Plus, Snape was apparently on patrol tonight, and she definitely didn't want to run into him.

With a heavy heart, Hermione made her way back to Remus' rooms.

She found him on the couch, fast asleep, a book steepled on his chest. After watching his sleeping form for a few minutes, a strange pain began to stir inside of her. She was still a little angry, but the irritation seemed to wash away with each rise and fall of his chest. He was peaceful and young in his sleep. She wondered if he felt bad, or if he was mad at her for running out. They had been growing into such a nice friendship, but then the word got out, and everything had just fallen apart.

Perhaps she was being overdramatic. Things would probably be better in the morning. Hermione retired to the bedroom with a heavy heart, wishing that maybe Remus would wake up and join her in bed. Probably not.

The next few days were terrible. Hermione believed that there wasn't a person in the school who didn't know about the scandal. She was lucky that she had Harry and Ron. They'd taken up the habit of walking with her to most classes, looking as intimidating as they could so that no other students could ask their stupid questions about the marriage.

The worst part of it all was the fact that there was this immense sea of awkwardness separating Hermione from Remus. She spent her evenings in the common room until late at night, and avoided raising her hand or making eye contact during DADA.

They talked to each other, but only when necessary. The morning after their disagreement, Hermione had asked Remus if they could just forget about it. He had agreed, but things hadn't gone back to normal, and she knew that neither of them had forgotten about it.

She felt like he hated being married to her, and he hated having her living in his rooms, sleeping in his bed. After Wednesday night, he had slept beside her, but the distance between them had seemed further than on any other nights. It was starting to feel like they would never have the friendship she had been hoping for. Hermione resigned herself to trying to stay out of Remus' way as much as possible, and to never letting on that she wanted more from him.

When the weekend came, Hermione was happy to devote her time to her friends and studies. However, Ginny seemed to be catching on to what was going on with Remus.

"Alright, what happened?" the redhead asked, pulling Hermione along on her way to Quidditch practice. Hermione had agreed to meet Neville and Luna down by the pitch, so she didn't mind being dragged down the hill.

"What do you mean?" she replied, looking down at the ground.

"You know what I mean. You've been acting like something's wrong, and whenever somebody mentions Lupin you get this sad look on your face. Did he say something to you?" Hermione looked up at Ginny and noticed the girl's fierce protectiveness, very similar to a look she had seen on her mother's face a couple times before.

"It's nothing," she sighed, gazing down at the pitch, where a few figures were flying around, "things are just awkward between us."

Ginny was wary, "are you sure?"

"Yeah," Hermione breathed, tying her Gryffindor scarf around her neck and parting from Ginny.

She sat with Neville and Luna, talking with them about school and Quidditch while they watched practice. Neville was still uncomfortable with the idea that she was married to Professor Lupin. Luna kept making odd comments about how well-suited they were.

When practice ended, Hermione found herself being approached by Harry. She was disappointed to find that he also wanted to bring up Lupin. It seemed that everything in her life was starting to revolve around her husband.

"How are you?" Harry asked, removing his gloves and stuffing them into his pockets.

"Fine. You?"

"I'm good," he nodded, "But listen, Hermione, I wanted to ask you a favor."

"What?"

"I've been thinking… Dumbledore isn't giving me much information lately about the Horcruxes. He's holding back, and I feel like we need to know more. Lupin's our DADA teacher, so I figured he might know a thing or two about Horcruxes. Maybe you could bring it up and see if he knows anything useful?"

She really didn't think Remus would want to talk to her about this, but Hermione couldn't say no to Harry's hopeful expression. They'd been coming to dead end after dead end for weeks with the Horcruxes, and to be honest, Remus could quite possibly know something useful.

"I suppose I could ask him."

"Great!" Harry beamed, "but you have to swear him to secrecy, and don't tell him anything too important."

"Of course," she said, smiling lightly at Harry as they parted ways. She needed to get to the library and do something relaxing. Talking about Horcurxes with Remus could wait until they were at least a little less awkward.

So Hermione and Remus remained in a sort of limbo, at least until the next Saturday came around. It had been a fortnight since their marriage, and they were due to have sex again. On Friday evening, Hermione was embarrassed to return from her post-curfew patrol to find a suspicious looking potion waiting for her.

It turned out to be a birth control potion. Hermione grimaced as she drank it. According to the note attached, this one would last for a few months, and Madam Pomfrey had made sure that Snape put extra care into brewing it. She was mortified that Snape had brewed her birth control potion, but told herself to just get over it. The last thing she was going to do now was care about what Snape thought of her.

On Saturday, Hermione visited Hagrid with Harry and Ron, allowing them to keep her out as late as possible. It was shortly before curfew that she decided to return to their rooms. She said goodbye to Harry and Ron and slipped inside.

He was sitting at his desk, seeming to be drawing up a lesson plan or something. She had learned that he was very devoted to putting a lot of work into his lesson plans. It was endearing how much he cared about teaching.

"Sorry I'm back late," she murmured, removing her jacket and stepping into the dimly lit sitting area.

"No problem," he replied, looking up and studying her. There was discomfort hanging in the air. They both knew what they had to do tonight.

"How was your day?" she asked conversationally, leaning against the back of the couch and facing him.

"It was nice, actually. Got a lot of work done. Yours?" He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. She thought that he seemed nervous.

"It was good. We went to see Hagrid."

He nodded, and a silence hung between them for several odd beats.

"Did you- ah- did Madam Pomfrey give you a potion?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah," she exhaled, looking down at her hands, "I'm good for a few months now." She could feel her face burning.

He stood up then, moving away from his desk and closer to Hermione, "alright… should we… take care of this then?"

She watched him anxiously. Sex wasn't scary anymore, but he still made her feel just a little bit nervous inside. "Sure," she said, her voice tight.

He studied her face for a moment before reaching for her hand, and gently pulling her towards the bedroom. Hermione felt a wave of butterflies take flight in her stomach, but she trudged on bravely.

They arrived in the bedroom and he closed the door. It was strange to think back to the last time they had sex in here. Here she was, sexual encounter number two, and it was already off to a horribly awkward start.

He turned to face her then, his expression just a little bit different than it had been outside. They were still standing just inside the room, only a foot or two separating them.

"Look, um, I want to apologize for what I said…" He ran a hand through his hair anxiously.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh."

"I was just angry with people finding out about us, and I was angry about what happened to you. Anyways, I shouldn't have said that, and I realize how hard this is for you." He looked pained.

She suddenly felt terrible for running out on him. "It's fine, and I should be apologizing too. I shouldn't have left. I just don't want you to feel bad or ashamed for me. I don't care what people think of me, I'm really just grateful for everything you've done."

"Thank you," he said, his expression softening. "Now maybe we can actually move past it?"

"I'd like that," Hermione grinned.

Their eyes were locked for what felt like a long moment before he finally leaned in. Hermione felt a giddy flutter in her stomach. It had been two weeks since their wedding. Two weeks since he had kissed her.

He was much more heated and needy about his kissing than the last time. Hermione was delighted by the way he began to push into her, melding their bodies together. He grew possessive and confident, despite their rocky start this evening. It was when she let out a quiet moan that he finally pulled her to the bed. They fell onto the mattress together, Hermione letting out a little squeak at the impact.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. "Sorry," he breathed, "I get like this around the full moon."

Comprehension dawned on Hermione's face as she remembered the date. 'The full moon is Tuesday."

He nodded, crashing in to kiss her again.

So it was the wolf, then. Hermione vaguely remembered her study of werewolves back in her third year. She had written that terrible essay for Snape, and something in there had been about werewolves exhibiting increased aggression and sex drive closer to the full moon. That explained the way he was kissing her, with possession and heat.

Soon she was shifting beneath him, finding herself hot and needy as a result of his hastier mood. He had divested her of all clothing. His mouth was tracing over her breasts with reverence. She moaned loudly when he lightly bit her nipple, receiving a chuckle from him in response.

It was funny how much confidence she had gained. She wasn't nervous about her body like last time, she was just immersed in this lust that Remus seemed to be sharing. Their awkward relationship just faded into something else when they were doing their fortnightly "duties".

Hermione decided that she needed to remove some clothes from him. She flipped him over with difficulty, but managed to get herself on top of him. He still wore a light jumper, which she pulled over his head quickly, bending down to kiss her way across his chest, tracing a few scars as she went.

He let out a deep breath of air, lifting his hands to finger them through her wild hair. She smirked at the control she had over him. Her hands trailed down to his trousers, which she quickly unbuttoned and unzipped. She glanced up at him to see a challenging expression on his face. Before she could do anything more, he flipped them back over.

With a flick of his wrist, he wandlessly vanished his trousers and boxers. She didn't have much time to admire his wandless magic because he was soon grinding himself into her.

"Remus," she let out a low whine. He was teasing her, his erection pressed up against her entrance, but not where she wanted it to be.

He chuckled, "ready, then?"

"Please!" she almost shouted.

He did as she asked, pushing into her with a vigor that she hadn't experienced the previous time.

It was so different from last time. Last time he had taken it slow because of her inexperience, but now most of her discomfort was gone and his movements just felt blissful.

He proceeded to move in and out, bending over to kiss her chest, then her collarbone, then her neck, nipping lightly as he went. Hermione wrapped her legs around him, aiming for more friction. He seemed to understand her intentions and brought a hand down to touch her clit, releasing a whole new round of moans from her.

It wasn't long before he was thrusting faster, letting out low grunts as he buried himself inside of her. She lifted her hips to meet his, desperate for release. Soon the slow-mounting tension seemed to snap, and it was so much more intense than anything else she'd experienced. Hermione cried out, and Remus grunted, thrusting unevenly a few more times before he was spent.

He pulled out and collapsed beside her. They lay there silently for a few long moments, regaining their breath. Hermione wondered not for the first time if all sex could be like this. Was it the full moon? Was it just some strange chemistry they had between them?

"I'm sorry," he spoke after a stretch of contented silence, "I didn't mean to be that rough about it."

Hermione laughed, "that was great, Remus, you've nothing to worry about."

Without much more to say, she shifted under the covers and turned herself over, allowing the tiredness to seep into her bones and her mind to drift off.

Coming up next: The full moon approaches.