Chapter 21 – It's a Date?
Hermione's stomach growled; her day with Fenrir had been comprised of lots of walking and little food. They had eaten a quick lunch with Elise and a group of the younger women, but it was getting near to evening.
Fenrir chuckled at her, not missing the quite sound. "Time for dinner, mate?"
Hermione rolled her eyes at his address, but nodded. "I am fairly hungry. It's been a while since we've eaten." We've. Everything was still sinking in. She had agreed not to run; she had promised. Not that she wanted to leave anymore, not really. She glanced at the werewolf, who was gazing at her intently. The witch gave him a small smile. "What?"
He huffed quietly before returning a smile. "What do you want?"
"To eat?"
Fenrir raised his eyebrows as if she had asked the most obvious question of the day. He stared at her, his golden eyes roaming over her body more than usual. "Well, I suppose we could broaden the subject."
Hermione did not like the smirk that followed his clarification, she did not miss the hungry look in his eyes when he stared at her. She slipped out of his reach, suddenly nervous under his gaze, and replied, "I think food is a good topic."
Fenrir laughed quietly, "Whatever you want." He grinned and stood back, waiting patiently for her to answer.
Hermione bit her lip, she knew what she wanted as soon as he had asked, but she did not feel like she should bring it up. Her mind flew back to some of her quieter summers, before the war. Her parents took her to France often, and she missed the cheerful country and the food that went with it. More than either of those, however, she missed the feeling of normality that had long since left. She deeply wished for things to be normal once more; Fenrir was starting to be normal for her. He was certainly more attractive an option than running everywhere. Perhaps, she could find some form of normalcy in France again. She would not mind sharing her love of France with Fenrir; it had just been her and her parents for the longest time. Fenrir was beginning to be home almost as surely as her parents had been, albeit much slower. She wanted to share this with him; to find some sense of normal and have him be a part of it. But no, it was too dangerous to go out, wasn't it? Perhaps they could make something... Hermione was caught up in her thoughts and did not realize she was frowning until Fenrir spoke.
"What are you thinking about, love? It's certainly more than dinner." He paused and then grinned, "Unless the dinner you are thinking about involves nothing but vegetables; that is certainly worth that frown."
Hermione stared up at him, her mouth half-cracked in an incredulous smile. "I—France."
Fenrir nodded in mock solemnity, "Ah, yes. I often frown when I think of France as well."
Hermione opened her mouth, but was unable to form anything coherent to shoot back at him. He was certainly in a good mood. Hermione felt odd attributing it to herself, but according to Catia, Fenrir was just glad to have her back.
He grinned at her. "You'd better get dressed, Hermione."
"I am dressed," She frowned at him, wary at the sudden change of subjects.
He shook his head at her. "No. Not to go to France."
Hermione continued to stare at him. She could no longer tell if he was still teasing, or if he was actually being serious. She watched his grin broaden eagerly. "Really?" she began, excitedly, "We're going to France? For dinner?"
Fenrir shrugged, still grinning at her, "I said whatever you want."
She narrowed her eyes at him, sporting a grin of her own, "What if I want vegetables?"
"That's just plain mean," he whined at her, his voice still playful.
"I guess France will have to do then," Hermione sighed dramatically.
Fenrir chuckled. "You'd better get ready. I hear that females take ages to go out."
"Is this a date, Fenrir?" As soon as the words left her mouth, Hermione held her breath. She hadn't really meant to say that, she had only been trying to tease him; but the words were out. She could not take them back, she just had to wait and see how he responded.
Fenrir turned to her, his grin gone. "Do you want it to be?" his voice was oddly soft and his eyes bored into hers.
Hermione thought about the situation. She might as well get to know him, right? She wasn't leaving, and he would not let her go if she tried. He was quite a character, and she knew there was much more to him than first impressions gave. Catia had said she should just give him a chance; and that's what she would have said had she been there. She smiled shyly as she responded, "Yes. I would like it to be a date."
Fenrir grinned, "We'll leave in half an hour."
Hermione nodded and attempted to walk away calmly. Her mind was reeling slightly as she stepped around the corner. She was going on a date with Fenrir. A date. With Fenrir Greyback. She giggled quietly at the thought, it never would have crossed her mind a few short weeks ago. He was so very different than she had thought. He was actually a decent person. Werewolf, she thought with a smile; he would probably not appreciate being called anything else. She stopped and bit her lip; a date. She had never really gone on a date before. Victor Krum had taken her to Hogsmeade in her fourth year, but that was her only real experience. The war had put a bit of a damper on her dating life; not that she had really thought about it until now. This was their first date; she wanted to look nice.
Hermione wished that Catia was available to help her, but having just given birth it was not an option that she even considered. She quickly ran through the list of werewolves who might help her. Elise was busy helping Catia, and Hermione knew the vivacious woman was worn out as well. She thought through the list of women she knew in the castle, and did not know any of them particularly well enough to ask them for help. One name stuck out in her mind, however: Elena, Peter's mother. Hermione had spent some time with her several weeks prior when she had helped Catia in the nursery. Elena was very friendly and Hermione got along well with her, for the short time they had spoken.
Her mind made up, the brunette headed down the stairs to one of the many family wings of the castle. She made to knock on the door to Elena's family's quarters, but the door was opened before she could. She stepped back to find the toddler peeking his head out from behind the door.
"Mynee." He stared at her with wide eyes, unwilling to come out from behind the door.
"Peter, is your Mama here?"
The little boy nodded and darted off, calling loudly for his mother.
Elena appeared a few moments later, carrying her son. "Mistress. I wasn't expecting you, what do you need?" She sent her a smile and opened the door to allow her inside.
Hermione took a deep breath. "Fenrir asked me on a date. I—I've never been great at girling-up. I was wondering if you could help me."
Elena grinned widely, a sparkle in her eye. One of the things she had picked up about the woman right away was her ability to get what she wanted. "Alpha won't know what hit him."
Hermione could not help but laugh at the woman's enthusiasm.
"Mama, Hitting Alpha is not okay." Peter said quietly from his mother's arms.
"Oh, you are quite right, honey. We aren't going to actually hit him. We are just going to surprise him. Why don't you go find your daddy, Mama's going to be very busy for the next little while, okay?" She placed the toddler on the floor.
Peter immediately scampered off and Elena turned to Hermione, "How much time do we have?"
"Half an hour."
"Well," Elena set her hands on her hips, tossing her red hair over her shoulder, "He'll just have to live with you being a little late."
Forty-five minutes later, Elena had finished her artistry. Hermione surveyed herself in the mirror with wonder. Elena was quite amazing. She was only mildly made-up, but the other woman's limited use of makeup did not limit her in any other way. Everything was mildly extenuated; her eyes looked bigger and brighter, and her lips were somehow slightly fuller. They were all subtle changes, only noticeable if one was really looking, but she knew Fenrir would see it. Nothing escaped his notice. She was wearing one of the dressed that Elise had picked up for her weeks ago. It was a light blue that Elena had matched to the twin clips that were holding her hair out of her face. Her hair, which was tame for once. Fenrir did not seem to mind her unruly waves, but they occasionally bothered Hermione; she was glad Elena had dealt a bit with her hair.
Elena grinned, "Have fun, Hermione. Don't worry about Alpha; he won't be able to take his eyes off you."
Hermione grinned back and nodded, suddenly nervous as she walked out of the family's quarters. She set her jaw and went to find Fenrir.
Walking up the stairs toward their quarters, Hermione saw the werewolf before he saw her. She giggled; he looked slightly annoyed, but the expression vanished the moment he turned to see her; his frown washing into immediate awe.
"Nothing to say, Greyback?" She quipped as she approached him, her heart beating faster than normal.
"You're beautiful," he managed to growl.
"Only today?" Hermione pouted slightly.
Fenrir quickly closed the distance between them. "You're always beautiful, love."
Hermione blushed; she had never thought much on her own beauty. She was the bookworm, only pretty when she was made-up; but the werewolf's actions seemed to contradict that. He just wanted to be around her, and she knew it by more than just his words. She surveyed him as he stared at her. He had cleaned up as well; half of his hair was neatly pulled back, the rest hanging down to his shoulders, and for once he was not sporting his rather well developed chest muscles. He was, however still in the leather pants he liked so much. She smiled, not expecting anything different of him.
"Ready?" He asked quietly, looking as timid as she had ever seen him.
Hermione nodded and took his hand, equally shy in her movements. "Ready."
A/N: Aww. More fluff. They are so cute.
In other news, school is out for the summer, so updates should be more regular. This semester was pretty brutal.