Chapter 52 - Resulting Remorse


Harry frowned. He could have sworn he had seen Hermione arguing with the werewolf before he and Ron had walked into the library to talk to their friend. Why she put up with all the arguments they seemed to have in private, he couldn't figure out; and then she acted as though they never even happened. Harry was determined to get to the bottom of it, and had left the room he and Ron shared for exactly that purpose.

The black haired boy jumped when he heard a door slam shut. If he was not mistaken, it had come from the direction of the library. Harry went straight for it, barely skirting past an angry looking Fenrir on the way out. They were clearly fighting, Hermione could not deny it this time. It was odd that she so vehemently denied it, and that she defended him so much when all they seemed to do was argue. Her attitude toward both of the werewolves in the house was very odd. Remus seemed to skirt around her almost as much as he did Fenrir; and Harry noticed Hermione did not have the same principled, respectful manner toward their former professor that she had always used.

"Hermione?" He entered the library cautiously, looking concerned when he noticed that Hermione was crying. Her face was red, and tears streamed down her cheeks, though she was trying her best to hide it.

Harry sighed and walked over to her, "You fight with him so much; you don't need to go at it alone."

He watched as she sniffed and looked up at him, her features blank, as though she had no idea what he had even said.

"We haven't been fighting," she sniffed again, looking surprised at the thought.

"Hermione! You can't keep hiding it from us; you've obviously been fighting," he said, upset that she was brushing it off again. There was clearly something wrong.

She shook her head, "We haven't fought like that…not since…" she trailed off and began to cry again.

If anything, Harry was even more confused. If they hadn't been arguing, what on earth had they been doing? There had to be an explanation for Hermione's odd behavior toward him. She defended the werewolf so vehemently…

"Hermione," he started, "Er— correct me if I'm wrong, because, I mean, I'm just guessing, and it seems impossible, so I totally—"

"I love him," she squeaked out so quietly Harry thought he had imagined it.


Hermione cringed and hid her face as the tears came once more. She could not bear to see Harry's face when he found out. She was not ashamed of her relationship with the werewolf, but she was afraid of her friend's reactions to it. She inhaled sharply when she felt Harry's arms come around her in a brotherly hug. She immediately looked up at him in shock; he did not look surprised, not really.

"Hermione, why didn't you tell me?"

"You aren't angry?" She looked up at her friend in wonder at his calm reaction.

He laughed quietly, "After the battle we tried to have, Hermione. I wouldn't have been surprised if you had secretly always known him." He frowned slightly, "You haven't, have you?"

She shook her head and a small giggle escaped her. "No, but do you remember what happened at the Weasley's?"

Harry shook his head, "I remember hearing you and Ron talk about it, but then we got snatched."

"Fenrir was looking for me...he's— Harry, I don't know how best to explain it." She took a deep breath and wiped away her tears. After several shaky breaths, she spoke once more. "He's my mate," she managed to say.

"Hermione! I did not need to know that!" Harry exclaimed with wide eyes, "I do not need that image in my head!"

Hermione started to laugh, "No! Harry, that's not what I meant! We— we're like Remus and Tonks." She proceeded to explain to Harry what she had said to Tonks about werewolves only a few days prior. All he did was nod occasionally and ask a vague question or two. When she was done, he still looked concerned.

"So...what were you two fighting about?"

Hermione frowned. "I— I don't really know," she admitted quietly. "Everything?" She tried to think back over the last several hours. "He seemed like he was in a good mood, and then you and Ron came in…" she paused, and sighed, "Because he doesn't want to hide this anymore. Well, not that he ever did...It was all my idea. I did not think it would go over very well…"

Harry nodded thoughtfully, "I think I would agree with you there."

"Not that it matters," she sighed quietly, "I think I'm just as tired of hiding as he is, he's just more impatient." She laughed bitterly, her tears returning; she hated that they had fought at all, but she was still queasy about what he had done. "I forget sometimes how much of a wolf he is."

Harry sat with her for a while longer, but it was soon dark and the pair was called down for dinner.

Hermione trudged down to dinner, hoping no one would talk to her; she really did not want to talk to anyone in that particular moment. Luckily, Tonks seemed to notice her mood and sat Hermione at the end of the table. At one point, Hermione looked around the room to realize that Fenrir was not there. She frowned, he never missed dinner. She shook her head, ignoring a pitying look from Tonks; he was an adult, he was perfectly capable of feeding himself. Hermione did not think she could look at him yet, anyway. She picked at her food for most of the meal, her stomach still queasy from the fight. Eventually she gave up and headed toward her room, ignoring anyone who may have called after her. She didn't care, she was tired and just wanted to go to bed.

She frowned up the stairs as she walked past. She knew she was calm now, but she was still angry at Fenrir for what he had done, and he was clearly not over it, if the lack of his presence since had anything to say about it. Fighting back frustrated tears, she snorted and stomped to her own room.


Hermione started awake, immediately aware of another presence in her room. It was not Ginny, the other girl had come in hours ago. Her wand was halfway up before her vision cleared enough to recognize the glint of werewolf eyes. It was too dark to see anything else but his silhouette against the faint light from the hall. She could not see his expression, but his shoulders were slumped. She clenched her teeth, it served him right. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath, they needed to talk. She stood slowly and followed him out the door as quietly as she could manage.

The pair walked in a strained silence down to the kitchen, where it seemed Fenrir had prepared a pot of tea. It did not escape her that it happened to be her favorite kind. She looked up at him only to find his gaze downcast.

They sat in silence for a time, until Hermione could no longer bear it.

"Fenrir—"

"I'm sorry," he interrupted quietly, still unable to look at her. "I— I should not have done what I did."

Her first instinct was to be snippy at him, but she took another deep breath; he was apologizing. Amazingly, he was apologizing.

"You are my mate, and I should have acted like it."

Hermione looked up at him once more, but he refused to meet her gaze. She saw only the faintest glimmer of his yellow eyes. In fact, the more she looked, the more she realized his eyes were red around the edges...like he had been crying. The only time she had ever seen him shed a tear was with the thought that he could not protect her. She gave him a sad smile; he had not managed to protect her from himself, and of course he was upset that he had hurt her, though she doubted he would say much more than he had already. Taking a deep breath, she leaned against his shoulder. His warmth seeped through to her skin and comforted her as much as his calm, familiar scent. She wrapped her arms around him, realizing that his body language told more about his remorse than he could ever put into words. The short sentences he uttered were probably the longest apology he had ever spoken to anyone before; and they were sincere. He was not just saying them to get back into her good graces.

The werewolf responded with an apologetic whine as he curled his arms around her.

"I forgive you, Fenrir," she said quietly.

The way his grip on her tightened as he whined again made her understand he was still apologizing. She smiled slightly, that had not gone as painfully as she had feared. The day had been horrible, but he was making up for it.

"Fenrir— I— I'm sorry too," she said, now came the hard part. "I haven't—"

She cut off when his head jerked up and he growled gently. "I knew what I was getting into from the beginning, love. This was my fault. I can't expect you to—"

He clamped his mouth shut when Hermione pulled back and frowned at him.

"You're right." She admitted softly. "I need to stop hiding...It's just hurting everyone."

The way he gaped at her would have made her laugh at any other time, even so, she smiled.

"Don't go getting a big head, Alpha." She cautioned with glint in her eye.

He returned her gaze for the first time that evening. "I think I've had enough of that today," he whined, his brow furrowed.

Hermione leaned into his arms again, "Me too."

"Hermione?" Fenrir said quietly after quietly holding her for a time.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

Hermione smiled sleepily at his admission. "I love you too," she mumbled, very nearly asleep in his arms. "Can we go to bed?" She managed to squeak out; it was clear that Fenrir was distracted, and may not have gone upstairs if she had not mentioned it.

She felt him nod before he kissed the top of her head. "Whatever you want, mate," he replied earnestly.

Despite her sleepiness, she perked up at his particular choice of words. "Whatever I want, Fenrir?"

He nodded once more, apparently missing what exactly she was hinting at.

Hermione sat up, pulling slightly out of his arms. She put a hand on his cheek and met his golden eyes before leaning in for a kiss that the werewolf hesitantly returned. The witch shifted, boldly climbing onto her mate's lap and wrapping her legs around his waist.

His arms wrapped around her and he let out a surprised grunt that quickly turned into a quiet moan. "Hermione…" he mumbled against her lips, not quite protesting, but obviously unsure. It was an odd sensation to be on the receiving end of for the witch.

"Alpha?" She pulled away putting a coy smile on her face.

"Merlin, mate," he looked at her with his large golden eyes. "I—"

"Shh," she bade him quietly, tired of hearing him apologize, "Make it up to me?"

He looked at her, his eyes beginning to return to their normal state. His eyes lit up further as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his jaw. In moments, he was on his feet, bodily lifting her with him. The bench chair screeched against the floor as Fenrir stumbled slightly, the motion and momentum of the two of them together caused Fenrir to slam into the wall, only adding to the noise they were making. Hermione giggled into his mouth, no longer caring about the noise.

"If we keep up like this, they'll find out rather quickly, I think." Hermione managed to say between heated kisses.

Fenrir pulled her into a hug before setting her down, his head cocked to the side in a concerned manner.

Hermione paused for only a moment before shrugging and jumping back into his arms, attacking his lips once more.

Fenrir growled happily, but still made his way upstairs. Hermione followed him, a smile on her face, the day's earlier quarrel forgiven and forgotten as she chased him up the stairs.


A/N: Didn't expect that, did you?! Fenrir?! Apologizing?! Madness! I thought about stringing it out for longer, I really did, but...I like this better. Perhaps a bit healthier for them than letting it stew.

Cheers~

Rev