Disclaimer: I do not own or stake any claim in the massiveness of the fortune that is trademarked with J.K Rowling or Warner Bros. I don't expect to gain anything from this story, except many hours of procrastination from my schoolwork, possibly reviews, and certainly many hours of lost sleep.
AN: I apologize that it has been three months since my last update. Well, this chapter is a great bit longer than all of the previous ones so at least you have that to look forward to. I expect there will be only a handful of chapters to go before I finish Reminiscent and move on to Blind. The next chapter is actually about to go into beta, so if I get another couple reviews to boost my morale I'm sure you'll be getting sooner rather than later.
Thanks Jess, for beta-ing as always and thanks to you who is either reading this for the first time or returning to see the next installment.
To Smeg Head and SB01: thanks for some truly inspiring reviews.
I am aware that this chapter is lengthy, but stick with it! There is a lot of plot points and then the second-half is something I think all of you will enjoy. If you're reading this I want to hear your lovely opinions!
Hermione looked out over her class of fifth years who all had their head down, practically crying over their essays. It was necessary, but apparently her students did not agree with her. How were they ever to pass their O.W.L's without practicing essay-writing? A few of the Hufflepuffs were looking up every few moments to signal their anxiety about this exam. It gave her more reason to let the exam go on. It would not be possible to ask the exam-instructor for help. The fifth years had had three different professors for DADA and that meant they were extremely weak in a few subjects and surprisingly advanced in others. This was all crash course review anyway. It allowed her to go over the problems that the majority of the class was having trouble with. As the silence continued on, Hermione looked over her grades for the class. She would have to arrange mandatory study sessions for the students who were doing 'poor' and 'troll' in her class. It would not be her fault that they failed on the O.W.L's. As she made a neat list of the names on a clean piece of parchment, her mind wandered. Wandered to the hot hand on the back of her neck and that fiery kiss he had bestowed upon her.
It was about then that she reminded herself she was a terrible person. How did she end up in such a situation? A student had kissed her, right there in her office. Her eyes glanced to the door that seemed to be etched with guiltiness. If her subconscious was able to do things without her hands stopping them, there would be GUILTY written in red lettering all over that damned door. She hated herself for letting him kiss her and she hated herself more for kissing him back. He was a bloody married man. He had a kid. He was dead.
Hermione paused and looked away from the door and over at her students. The Ravenclaws had finished already and she gave them a proud smile. She made an announcement to excuse anyone who had finished early. As predicted, all the Ravenclaws, the majority of the Slytherins, and a few Gryffindors crossed to her desk immediately. They seemed happy to be free. About a quarter was left of her students as she looked down at her papers again. She decided to send out the notes of the 'troll' and 'poor' students over breakfast tomorrow. The ache of 'Remus' and 'dead' in the same sentence, even if it was never spoken out loud, hurt her. She would save him if she could. But, it still didn't make it right that she should be involved with someone that had a family. Then again, he didn't have one yet. Hermione tucked in an askew chair in the back row with the flick of her wand more harshly then she should. She spent more time thinking about Remus then she ever thought of Ron. Maybe it was because Ron was always there. Hermione was fed up with herself. She shouldn't be so interested in Remus like the schoolgirls she was teaching.
As the last few worn looking students trickled away from their scribbled messes, Hermione saw the stout form of Peter Pettigrew push past the two final Hufflepuffs crowding the doorway. He seemed smug about something and if there was one thing she had learned about Pettigrew since she had come to this place was that Peter had absolutely no reason to be smug- ever. Yet, he crossed to the front of her desk with the sort of brisk movement and bright smile that made her feel a chill deep in her bones. He handed her a smoothed out essay and thanked her so soundly, she began to wonder if this was some scheme.
"Thank you so much for letting me turn this in late. Things get a bit stressful around this time of the month." It was a sickening feeling in her stomach that made her think too long about his smile and how terribly crooked and malicious it looked. She smiled back in an instant, pouring teacherly concern into her smile, while trying to mask the jolt of anxiety she felt.
Then, James was standing there in the hall with his hands on his hips like some hero from an action comic. Peter's smile faded instantly. He looked over his shoulder at James and then back at her. He smiled at her again and then winked at her. Wormtail took his sweet time walking past James and dawdled down the hall, probably hoping to find out some little tidbit of information. Prongs adjusted his glasses and gestured for Hermione to follow him.
"Professor Quirrell has returned. Dumbledore requested you visit his office as soon as possible." James added professionally as she followed him. There up ahead, Hermione saw one of the scariest things she had seen in quite a few years. Wormtail was there at the end of the hall talking in hushed tones to Narcissa Black. Narcissa gave her a measured gaze over the shoulder of her informer and they continued down a parallel hall. James crossed his arms.
"It is quite all right, Mr. Potter, you can continue your duties. I will be just fine walking myself to Albus' office." James looked grateful, his circle-glasses glinting from the sunlight flooding the windowsills. He gave her a mischievous smirk before he disappeared into a passage nearby, behind a bowl of fruit still-life. Hermione tried not to think about what kind of trouble he was going to get into with the Head Boy badge pinned proudly to his chest.
She understood how Remus must have felt knowing that Harry, Ron, and she were running around with the cloak and map third year. She tried not to think of such bodice-ripping fantasies such as an invisibility cloak, a half naked Remus and her in just his Oxford-collared shirt combined. She needed to quit or go to prison, or both. First and foremost, he was double her age, but he never kissed her before either. Hermione rounded the final flight of the moving staircases pausing only momentarily to be connected to the correct floor. As she stood in front of the statue hiding Dumbledore's office from view, she pent up a breath and released it slowly. As she let out the air, with it she rid herself of daydreams that ended with busted buttons on the carpet discarded from her least favorite blouse.
"Quirinus, here she is now. This is Hermione." She felt slightly awkward being pulled in through the threshold; the flights of fancy melted away as she was brought into the familiar office, her former Defense professor eyed her carefully. He looked less anxious than she had ever seen him. He was absent of his purple turban that she had known him for and when he greeted her, he did not stutter even once. Hermione shook hands with him and looked at Dumbledore awkwardly as if she was unsure what came next. Dumbledore crossed behind his desk and offered them both seats that zoomed into place from across the room. Quirrell looked happy. He looked brighter in the eyes than she had ever seen him. Maybe it was his rich blue and gold robes. They were fetching on him, or perhaps it was the fabric itself. The fabric looked like silk, like it would have come fresh out of the 1000 Arabian Nights. Dumbledore cleared his throat and spying a glance at Quirrell's face, he was thankfully not looking at her, but at Fawkes who was chirping gleefully across the room. They snapped to attention a second later and Dumbledore gave them both his charming grin.
"Hermione has been covering Galatea's space, since you took your sabbatical." Hermione looked over at Quirrell, confused for all the world.
"Really! Well, I do apologize, Miss Granger. Albus told me that he hadn't exactly explained why my absence should have anything to do with Merrythought's position." Quirinus offered, looking at her as if he had some sort of joke on his mind.
"It is actually that, well-" Quirrell started, but Albus continued for him.
"Galatea has been out since the beginning of the year, recovering from a Horntail's bite. Quirinus was kind enough to help me with her Defense classes while he took care of his Muggle Studies. It was lucky you came along to help ease the burden, Hermione. I'm glad you took some time though, Quirinus you were looked quite anxious there before Yule Tide."
Quirrell just smiled at the sentiment before nodding to Hermione amicably. "What we are getting at here Miss-may-I-call-you-Hermione?"
With a slight nod from Hermione, he patted down his wavy chocolate hair and looking at Dumbledore reassuringly he continued on, "Well Hermione, we were wondering if you were still planning to stay until graduation?" He paused and waited.
Without missing a beat, Hermione nodded. She knew what they were playing at then. Their jobs had them both at capacity and then eyeing Dumbledore carefully she rethought her last. Dumbledore could probably take more than a few jobs on his shoulders without any issue. Without this job to keep her busy, she would be going absolutely insane with all the free time. It was always hard to pin down the true character of a person, especially someone like Dumbledore. As she left the two wizards moments later, she realized how much she had really grown since the war. She was young then; a world in turmoil calls for one to believe that their side is all good and that the opposing side is bad. If she had given pause to the character of the key players in the plot, would things have changed? That was a silly question. To have blinded followers was Dumbledore's greatest weapon. Harry could have had hours, days, and months if he had known the whole story, to consider his death. Dumbledore relied on Harry's moral fiber and Gryffindor brashness to make sure that Harry would save us all. The Dumbledore she saw in the room just a few minutes ago had many layers.
Hermione let her fingers run beside her on the stone wall in an abandoned hallway toward her room. It would be lunch soon, but she didn't feel like eating. Dumbledore would be there in the Great Hall as well. It was easy to be disillusioned and ignorant of a person's character. After having read The Life and Times of Albus Dumbledore and finally seeing him again face-to-face, Hermione wondered if she had idolized him all along. A younger Hermione had always seen Dumbledore as the most powerful wizard she knew, but now he was essentially flawed. From the littlest dialogue over a teaching role, to plotting his own death, Hermione realized everyone had a part of his plan. It made sense then that Dumbledore should hold the utmost importance in well-meaning and intention.
The time up through the N.E.W.T.S and the graduation ceremonies passed in the blink of an eye. Hermione did not see much of James or Sirius in the last weeks of their schooling, but she did see Remus here and there. What truly vexed her was the heavy amount of time she noticed Wormtail skulking about. She noticed not only an increase of Peter wandering about, but several uncomfortable moments of odd scratching sounds coming from her rooms late at night. A mouse could fit through almost any hole, keyholes not being one of them. Yet, opposable thumbs were better at that. So, Hermione made her list unreadable to anyone but her. Paranoia was a feeling she had never really found succor in. Peter Pettigrew was the sort of person that when he was being truly sneaky he asked no questions, simply watched. Hermione found it almost offensive that he should believe himself sneaky. Even a dementor could have been subtler. He would skulk down the halls just out of her gaze, following her every movement. The final ceremonies had wrapped for the seventh years and they had an extra two days after the school had left for the summer to have a farewell luncheon and have time to snap magical pictures and the like. Still Peter pursued.
It took every sickle of conscience that Hermione had left to not turn and snatch up that irritating rustling that was following her and throw it into the Black Lake. It was one of her greatest pet peeves intensified. Irritating enough was the idea of someone reading over her shoulder, but this was a constant in every second of her life. She could, naturally, tell no one, since it would disrupt the bloody universe. Whenever she saw the other parts that made up the group, Hermione just wanted to scream out exactly what Mr. Pettigrew should be pitched out for. Of course, she never did succumb. Peter's constant pestering would end soon enough, considering school's end was so close. She hastened it.
Remus, Sirius, and James did notice their companion's strangeness and closeness to Hermione of late, but besides some good jokes here and there, they did not investigate further. Pettigrew always came out harmless after all.
As promised, Remus was scarce for the remainder of the school year. The Express had been packed with all the graduates' things and Hermione felt a hint of jealousy as she watched James and Lily zap their year into a stone as many classes had before them in the Great Hall walls. She never had the chance to zap or even watch as it were. At least, not properly. The ritual ended and all the former students left the Great Hall, some reminiscent, others somber. All of them filed out and feeling Peter's eyes on her once more, she stood without hesitation, her eyes moving markedly from their target on Remus' back. Before half of the students had gone, Hermione had too.
She was in her room packing the few things she had accumulated into a trunk. If the castle was going to be empty, there was no point in staying here after all. She would follow up on the people of her list. She felt she should drop the letter to Fred Weasley, personally. Who knows who could be intercepting owls these days. Satisfied with her plan, even if it was the tiniest of one, she pushed into her office to collect the stack of books she had left on her desk. There on top of her stack was a bright green one that she hadn't remembered picking up for herself. Looking around, she locked the door and plugged the hole underneath. Feeling the slightest bit better, she made a careful glance over her shoulder and then sat in her cushioned chair. It was a copy of Through the Looking Glass. She opened the cover carefully and a smile crossed her face in an instant. Remus' handwriting was on the inside cover.
My muggle father read this to me when I could not read for myself. I told him I couldn't read something like Alice in Wonderland because that was for sissies. So he read this to me because a fight between chess pieces and cards is much better.
Hermione settled into her chair and started reading Remus' copy directly. It wasn't too long before she found an underlined word. She made note of it and moved on and before long another underlined word would pop up. Curious, she flipped through the pages and wrote her findings on a spare bit of parchment.
Dear Alice,
Meet this Hatter at eight this night and we can discuss why a Raven is like a Writing Desk-
There was a bookmark on an illustration of the White Queen, just a Honeydukes sweet wrapper. Butterflies flooded her stomach almost as quickly as guilt. She was unsure if she could hate herself more for being so enamored with a someday-to-be-married man. How could someone ever turn this invitation down? She would have to be Voldemort himself to not feel for Remus Lupin after he had painstakingly gone through the trouble of sneaking his copy of a childhood book with certain underlined words, just to ask for her company. Oh yes, she had to go, even if she was going to rue her very existence when next she saw Teddy or Tonks. Merlin, if Remus and his future family did survive all this, there is no way she would ever show her face to them again. She gathered her books and took them to her room, taking great care to give Through the Looking Glass the place of honor in her bag.
Feeling a sudden burst of nervousness, she looked around the room. The side table where she had normally kept her photo of Remus, Kingsley, and herself along with her list was left ajar. Hermione Granger never left things open if she could help it. Although it looked as if the inside was relatively untouched, she knew better. Happy she had concealed the blanked-out photo and list into her copy of Paradise Lost's lining just that morning, she felt oddly relieved. She incinerated the parchment with Remus' note for good measure. Next, she would be warding her every step with a constant sweep of 'muffliatos.' Wait, that was just paranoid. Hermione took a deep breath and shut her sack with a sort of finality. She tried to ignore the rustling of rat's feet behind her as she looked out the window.
Crossing her arms over her chest to boost the feeling of security, her gaze caught a quick shot of the Giant Squid's tentacles coming out of the Black Lake for a split second. She was sure that creature knew the children were leaving for the summer. The rustling from behind her was silent and just a few moments later she figured out why. The train left promptly at three pm from the grounds and Hermione wished that her life had turned out that simple sometimes. But, Harry and Ron were her best friends and the three of them always seemed to have bigger fish to fry from the very beginning. As she looked out across the grounds, it was almost as if she could see the three of them trotting off to Hagrid's hut at a simpler time. Was time ever simpler? She missed Harry and her parents terribly. Although she would never admit it, she missed Draco too. How much would her tinkering change them?
As she watched the ghosts of her memories cross the grounds of her Alma Mater, she saw a young aristocrat with white-blonde hair cross toward the entrance hall from the Thestral-drawn carriage. She was struck with how much Lucius looked like Draco standing there, as if for all the world the most proud. Narcissa came out to meet him in the next moment. He offered his arm and handled her luggage magically into the carriage. There was someone else in the carriage. A lady's thin hand outstretched to greet Narcissa. Hermione felt a chill flow through her as she recognized them as Bellatrix Lestrange's. She wondered if she should be pleasantly surprised that the body that came out to meet her was not Lestrange's but some unfamiliar woman with hair matching Lucius'. The woman held Narcissa at arm's length for a moment and said something to Narcissa that made her straighten impossibly taller. Although she could not see Narcissa's gesture, the woman looked slightly put out and patted the young lady on the shoulder. The older woman disappeared in the carriage a moment later and Lucius helped her in. They shared a private moment, looking into each other regally before her face disappeared into the carriage looking sullen. Hermione figured that whatever news had come, it was bad, or Narcissa would have met her family like anyone else would have at King's Cross. The carriage moved with vigor and was out of sight in a few moments time.
Hermione remembered the last time she saw Draco looking so very proud as his father had, helping Narcissa into the carriage. She would always remember that day because it was the day she started to respect Draco, even the teensiest bit.
It was mid-January; a year after the war had ended. Hermione went over to 12 Grimmauld Place like she normally did on Thursday nights. When she let herself in, she found Draco Malfoy lounging on Harry's favorite loveseat next to the fire. Draco smirked at her and greeted her, although he did not stand. Instead he lay there slowly ripping page after page out of a book she could not catch the title of. Hermione was absolutely livid in that moment. What gall this asshat had to come into Harry's house and start ripping up his property as if he owned the bloody place. And of all the things to rip apart, it had to be a book. Draco seemed to notice when Hermione stayed glued to her spot on the threshold, eyeing him maliciously. Draco laughed and chucked the ripped pages into the fire before he continued. Hermione crossed her arms and laid a finger on her wand that was inside her left sleeve.
"What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing here? How dare you come to Harry's house completely uninvited- how the bloody hell did you even get here? Never mind that, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Hermione said through her teeth, grasping at the few straws left of her self-control.
"Well, Miss Granger, aren't you demanding? I know you are supposed to be bright and all, but really what kind of interrogation is this? Isn't it obvious what I'm doing?" He punctuated the end of his statement with another loud rip.
"Give me a reason why I shouldn't jinx you into next week, Malfoy." Draco stood at that and approached her casually, as if the wand pointed at him was a bit of licorice.
"But there are so many, Granger. Let me just start with the most simple." He handed her the ruined book, the gilded handwriting of the title gleamed in the firelight.
Harry Potter: A Hero or a Humiliation
"Because it's a book no one in this house has a taste for. If there needs to be a reason number two, then I suppose I should mention that Harry likes that particular part of me that you have your wand pointed at. And if you need any further reasoning for why you shouldn't jinx me, then you should ask Harry if I had been welcomed here in the first place before you start attacking his date." Draco's voice sounded as cool as the Black Lake was around that time of year.
Hermione was still silent as she lowered her wand and turned a deep shade of red in embarrassment. Draco set the book on the back of the couch and offered his hand to shake. "Perhaps we should start anew, Granger?"
Hermione was hesitant and she could tell he had sensed it, even when she did shake his hand. He pulled her in and whispered into her ear, as if the room was full of people. "I've been dating him for some time Granger, and believe me, if I felt the same for Mr. Chosen One as I had once, then I wouldn't be here meeting his friends formally" He gave her a look that she was sure translated as an "obviously" in the Malfoy universe.
Then he added, "And don't you EVER tell him I said any of that rubbish." In the next moment, Harry entered, running his hand through his wet hair, anxiously. The rest of the evening went swimmingly, but not before she had found a new respect for Malfoy as he fed the remainder of the book about Harry to the flames.
Hermione packed the rest of her things into her bag for a week's worth of travel, trying to get her mind off of the people she was really getting homesick over. She was not positive where the week would take her, but she was sure where her first stop would be in just a few hours time.
Hermione took the one-eyed witch's passage to Honeydukes and she was not the slightest bit surprised to find Remus opening the door for her from the cellar. He offered her his arm as she witnessed him tucking a spare bit of parchment into his brown tweed jacket. It was strange to see the jacket that he had been wearing the day on the Express. It looked brand new and Hermione found herself touching the lapel of the tweed that she remembered as threadbare. Remus cleared his throat, his face red with bashfulness. Hermione stepped back and gave a little nervous chuckle. "Sorry, it's just a really nice jacket." Smooth opening line, right, good job being an idiot, Hermione.
"Hmm…really? You think so? Mrs. Potter gave it to me at the graduation ceremony. Actually, she gave me the whole suit, but I figured that would be too formal. Have you ever met James' parents?" Remus took her hand carefully in his and headed out of the dimly lit sweet shop. Now that they were passing through the shop, there were several boxes stacked on top of each other and the shelves were bare. Apparently Honeydukes packed up for the summer. Learn something new every day. It was humid out, really disgustingly humid and hot. She wondered how he could carry on wearing that lovely jacket when it was so muggy.
They were heading away from the town altogether before Hermione remembered to answer his question. His hand was getting clammy so she took his arm instead in one of her braver attempts. "I haven't met James' parents actually." She wondered what type of people they were. She wondered if they accepted Lily wholeheartedly. Then she stole a sideways glance to Remus' scarred face and she knew her answer. She thought on Sirius' family issues and she knew. James' acceptance of things that were not easy or people that did not uphold the 'old ways' had to come from someone. As she thought on Harry's grandparents she also absorbed the look of worry that was still imprinted on Remus' face. The look faded and it was replaced with a wide smile that looked good on him. They were in front of the Shrieking Shack now.
He asked her if it was okay that they should apparate and with a simple nod, they were in the little town that Godric's Hollow resided in. It was a completely different place since she had been here last. The shadow of James' house in its entire splendor completely dwarfed everything around it for miles. Remus pointed out the house and several other landmarks as they made their way out of this town, too. Just as she thought the road would end, he turned toward a very well lit café called The Lotus Leaf. So they were going to have Chinese. He led her into the crowded restaurant and did not pause for a second when it seemed too packed to even get by.
He just pulled Hermione closer, directing her with his hand on the small of her back toward the very back of the place and out onto the back patio. There was only one other couple here, completely enthralled in themselves to even know that Hermione or Remus existed. So they took their seats at the table farthest away from them. The table was a tall round one with tall chairs that looked like they had been taken from the bar inside. As soon as they sat, an extremely putout-looking waiter came by and laid the menu on the table. He nodded at them and then he retreated back into the bustling center of the dining room. Hermione shrugged her shoulders when Remus looked over his shoulder at the waiter's retreating back. Remus just smiled again and he patted her hand across the table.
"Glad you're not impatient like James seems to be every time we come here. I think he forgets that this place is the only one in town whose food is any good. Well, this and the bakery, but they really are more of a breakfast sort of thing." He offered her the menu and crossed his arms. "I come here too much. Seti already knows what I want."
It was hard for Hermione to focus on the menu, rather than look at the view. Had there always been a lakeside view from Godric's Hollow? She was uncertain. It was dark enough now that the stars were reflecting onto the small lake and then when she did rip herself away from the amazing view, she had another one just over the top of her menu. It was obvious that Remus was trying not to stare and she hoped to anything that was listening that she didn't have something on her face. Nervous suddenly with the butterflies filling her stomach, Hermione found the menu plenty interesting. When she had decided on the Moo Goo Gai Pan, she shut her menu and set it aside, her red face absorbed with the shut of her menu.
"What are you having?" Remus asked curiously, looking a little more than slightly amused. She named her choice and noticed that he had removed his brown jacket, now it was on the back of his chair. He was rolling up his sleeves. With interest he mentioned that dish was Mrs. Potter's favorite as well.
"Do you take anything with your tea?" He asked as the waiter, now known to Hermione as 'Seti' trudged back over to them, a fresh stain on his red apron.
"Just Ginger," Hermione offered feeling relieved when Remus started ordering for her. His hand found hers across the table and her eyes flickered away from Seti to watch Remus give her a glance out of the corner of his eye.
The dinner went smoothly from then on and he asked her a billion questions, none of them on things that she was sensitive on. Remus should have received a medal for that accomplishment. Hermione knew he wanted to ask the questions she would definitely be asking if things were reversed, but he was certainly a gentleman. They exchanged ideas on their favorite books and Remus shared on his best mates. Hermione was unsure that she ever really needed to know that Sirius still sucks his thumb when he falls asleep after having one too many. She found out about Remus' ambition to become an apprentice to Ollivander. Apparently he was fascinated in wand-making techniques, but he said he saw himself only staying there for so long.
"After all, once any business finds out about my furry little problem, how can I expect them to keep me?" Hermione just shook her head at his insecurity and Remus raised his eyebrows excitedly. She did not want to give Remus false hope but perhaps it was better to not look so negatively at his future. After all Dumbledore hired him knowing that he was a werewolf all along. He did only teach a year. Looking at him over her teacup she was uncertain of what his future held before his year at Hogwarts. Did he ever get to apprentice with Ollivander? Did he have girlfriends? She did not know the answers to these questions and for once she was happy she did not. A good man always had a little bit of mystery to him and in Remus' case, it was certain she knew precious little.
"Well, if it counts for anything, I would hire you." Hermione said finally and he replied by drawing circles with his thumb on the back of her hand. He gave her a lopsided smile and then glanced out across the small lake once more.
"I think that we can safely assume that you think differently than the rest of the world, Hermione." He brought her hand to his lips and with a tinge of red on his face, he brushed his lips against her knuckles. "I cannot say even I would have the same brave nature as you do if the tables were turned." A tinge of guilt touched his voice. Feeling weightless from that compliment she found the courage to intertwine her fingers with his on the table.
"I doubt that, Remus." Hermione said simply, lifting her tea to her lips for another sip.
"Really, you think so?"
"A person does not know what they can handle until it comes toward them head on. For example, you can practice a patronus, but it isn't until you truly need to use it, do you realize that you can be proficient at the charm." That got a chuckle and Hermione smiled too, when she realized exactly how teacher-like that last expression must have sounded.
"Some would rather avoid any with lycanthropy altogether, I would expect." Remus countered.
"Yes, and let such a good mind and able hands go to waste? I think not." Hermione replied just as quickly. Her face went red at her words almost instantly, begging secretly that he wouldn't let on to that comment. Of course, he did. Remus flushed, but refrained from commenting.
They ended up on the lakeside not long after dinner and Hermione's heart sunk. She could not remember ever being on a lovelier date or being so very attracted to a single man. Any formality of the first date that she felt with Remus was in areas that she implied that he keep his distance. He never asked on things about his future, instead he asked on her profession. Instead of asking about how she got here, he asked her on books. She really did enjoy her time with him, even though it was obvious he was positively bursting with questions, he kept them contained. They laid back and he complimented her on her white blouse with the lace on the collar. Then, when she considered asking him about her skirt as well, she was reminded of how exceptionally female that question would be. So she refrained and he asked her on "Ronny and Harold." She chatted to him, her eyes on the stars. It was all too soon that Remus gathered up his coat from the grass and offered his arm. At the gate of Hogwarts, he paused and she did not really want to let him go. So they chatted for an hour longer and when he finally said "goodnight," he started to lean in.
Before Hermione really considered what she was doing she grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him hard. She could feel his hands staking claims on the small of her back. The kiss was hard at first then it turned wild. His fingers were twisting in her hair and his tongue plunging deep into her mouth. All Hermione could think of was how amazing a kisser he was and how she could really get used to kissing him more often. She hoped that there would be a 'more often' to choose from. When he leaned her against the closest tree and stole a few kisses on her neck, she heard it. Amongst all the things in the world she wished to not hear at this moment, it was that. There was a rustling and then a squeak. Hermione carefully pulled away from Remus, his flushed face even from the poor light the Moon gave off was clear as day.
"I should get inside Remus, but-" Hermione tried in vain to catch her breath. She adjusted her white shirt and blue skirt before trying to continue. "Thank you for everything. I really enjoyed spending time with you tonight." She kissed his lips chastely and started for the gates.
"And the next time you go to that restaurant, tell Seti I said 'hi.'" She watched Remus' retreating back before he paused and looked over his shoulder.
"Can I firecall you?" Remus' eyes were even sparking from where she was standing.
Hermione laughed and nodded.
"Anytime you want." Hermione heard a light-hearted chuckle from him before a loud crack. She undid the gates' lock quickly, feeling someone's eyes on her back. She had no greater wish than to stun him into next Sunday, but that would mean that she would have to know his animagus form.
Feeling ridiculously paranoid she locked the gate, carried on up towards Hogwarts in a fast jog up the hill. She tried not to think about the young man who was just in the corner of her eye, beyond the gate.