Chapter 32: Sunday, May 11, 1980

"Love can be hard at times. You risk a lot when you love- your heart and soul at the very least."

-J. E. B. Spredemann

"Shit," Remus groaned as his eyes flashed gold before he squeezed them shut, his chest pulling forward as he buried his face into the nape of Hermione's neck, his hips snapping up at furious pace.

Hermione wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer to her as her hips ground down to meet his, her breath heaving as she cried out, praising Remus with everything she had in her.

"Yes, right there, Yes. Oh God, Remus, don't stop, don't stop!"

If she could pay attention to the words coming past her lips, she may feel embarrassed for the way she was pleading for release, but then again, with the way he felt inside of her, she wasn't sure she could be arsed to feel embarrassed. In the couple of weeks since the first time they had sex, Remus had taken upon himself to be ever the studious learner and had damn near perfected bringing Hermione to orgasm. She was honestly a little impressed with his stamina and the precision of his strokes, seeming to always know when to speed up or to give that little extra push to send her flying over the edge. More than once, she mused that perhaps Moony was giving him some guidance.

He had become the most attentive lover she had ever been with, in the span of just over two weeks. She wasn't sure if it was some primal knowledge locked inside of him that she couldn't understand or if they were just compatible in so many ways that he just knew what she needed, but whatever it was, Hermione was certainly not complaining.

Remus sunk his hand between them, his fingers tracing over where they were joined before finding their way to her clit, swiping pressured circles that timed with every thrust of his hips. Her fingernails dug into his back, scraping at the skin of his shoulder blades and digging little crescent shaped cuts into his skin. She took a sharp breath and felt her walls clamp down on him as he hit a spot deep inside of her that shoved her over the edge, screaming his name and clutching onto him for dear life. As the stars burst behind her eyes, for the second time, she felt his breath catch against her neck as he chased his own release. He pounded into her several more times before he finally found it, a low growling sort of groan filling the air as his head fell back and hit the back cushion of the arm chair.

Once they had finally caught their breath and Remus had pulled his head from the back of the chair, Hermione leaned forward, stealing a slow kiss before pressing her forehead against his.

"Merlin," she breathed, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she sighed contentedly. "You keep that up and I'll never let you leave my house again."

Remus chuckled, pecking the tip of her nose, "You're the one who said practice makes perfect, you know."

"And I don't regret it one bit."

Hermione pouted a bit as Remus adjusted his hips under her, slipping out from her in the process. If she had it her way, he would never leave her. She would keep him trapped under her, inside of her, for the rest of eternity. However, very little ever went her way, and unfortunately, they had other things to attend to.

"What have you got planned for the day?" Hermione asked, reaching to grab her wand off the floor and summoning a blanket from the back of the sofa. She draped it over them both as she curled into Remus' lap, the side of her head on his chest. She silently delighted in the feeling of his heart fluttering against his sternum under her cheek.

Remus wrapped his arms around her, tightening his hold as he placed his chin on top of her head, "I've got to go to Gringotts and see if I can get a loan," he whispered.

"A loan? What on earth do you need a loan for?"

Gringotts wasn't exactly known for their ease of process when it came to loans. And with Remus being on the werewolf registry, regardless if he shared that information with anyone or not, there was a really good chance he would get denied any money he asked for.

"I need to find a flat," he mumbled. "I've got a little money put back from muggle jobs I've had over the years, but I need something more substantial."

"You're moving?" Hermione asked, pulling away from him to look at his face, "You haven't mentioned anything about it before. I was just with Lily yesterday and-

"I haven't told them yet," he said.

"Why are you moving?"

Remus sighed, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "They're about to have a baby. I've got the biggest room, they need the space…"

"What about Sirius?" she asked, "Can't you get a place together?"

Remus shook his head, "He's got himself a studio flat in Muggle London, he offered to get a place together, but I don't want him to… To pay for everything. And he will if we live together."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, her mouth twisting down as she tried to organize her thoughts. She had a spare room, and Remus was over more often than not, anyway. Sure, he had only known her seven months, and they had only been really dating three months, but she had the space. And imagining him leaving, going to live on his own somewhere made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

Truth be told, Hermione hadn't decided if she would stay much longer or not. She knew she was treading in dangerous territory with the feelings she was developing for Remus, but she did have this cottage. And when she left, it wasn't as if the cottage would disappear with her.

"Move in here, with me."

She spoke so softly that if Remus didn't have heightened senses, she was certain he wouldn't have heard her. As it was, Remus blanched, his eyes flashing between green and gold as he pulled away from her, looking at her in shock.

"W-what?"

"You heard me," she said, with a little more confidence.

"Hermione, I can't-

"You can."

"Then I won't," he said.

"Why not? You stay over more nights than you do at Lily and James' anyway! And when I'm gone it's not like I'll have need for it and-

"When you're gone," Remus repeated, his voice dropping considerably. "What do you mean, when you're gone?"

Hermione sighed, really regretting her mouth right about now. She was also regretting the fact that they were both still completely starkers, save for the blanket wrapped around them. Hermione stood up from Remus, bending to grab the overly large tee shirt she had been wearing before this morning's escapades. She slipped it on over her shoulders, handing Remus his boxer shorts.

"You know I don't have an infinite amount of time here," she said.

"Are you leaving soon?" he asked, his tone laced with worry and… something else. Something that sounded a lot like fear.

Hermione bit into her lip, looking down at Remus where he sat in the chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, holding herself as she spoke, "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I mean I haven't decided if I'll do the ritual to stay or not."

Remus frowned, but sat unmoving, his eyes trained on her as he seemed to process what she was saying. Finally, he spoke, quiet as a mouse, "You..You're choosing to go back."

"I haven't chosen anything, yet."

"But you don't know if you'll do the ritual to stay."

Hermione shifted her weight from foot to foot, "That's correct."

Remus swore in Welsh under his breath and stood up, stepping into his shorts and pulling them roughly up his thighs and over his hips. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the sandy locks before scrubbing his face with his hands. Hermione could feel the shift in the air the second his mood changed from confusion to anger. She stood still as a statue in the center of the room, watching him as he began pacing. He spoke quietly, the only way she even knew he was muttering to himself was by the slight movement of his lips, his eyes weaving between deep green and sparkling gold. Finally, he stopped, turning quickly on his heel and stared at her, a broken look on his face.

"I-I knew it was too good to be true," he whispered. "I knew it was too good to be mine."

Hermione's mouth fell open as her eyes widened, hot tears pricking inside the rim of her eyes, blurring her vision as her throat felt thick and her chest tightened. For once, Hermione didn't know what to say.

It was a rare occasion that Hermione Jean Granger, brightest witch of her age to some and insufferable-know-it-all to others, was rendered speechless. She always had the words. When she was young, she had the words to a fault. She could explain anything she was thinking or feeling down to every minute detail, most of which the boys she considered her best friends didn't care to hear. She could explain theories, she could talk about ideas and always had an answer.

The older she got, the less she felt the need to fill the air with all her knowledge. As the war pushed on, taking people from them left and right, words became exhausting. They didn't offer comfort anymore, they didn't explain why the world was crumbling around them. She no longer felt the desire to push the words past her lips, but she always had them, should someone need them.

But right now, standing half naked in her living room, staring at Remus' tortured face as the realization hit him that she wasn't meant to be here in the first place, and that she would have to leave, that she would choose to leave… She had nothing. She couldn't think of a single phrase, a single word, a single fact that would make this better. Nothing came to mind to ease the twist in her gut, to comfort the pain written on his face.

The weight of the silence around them was crushing. It was heavy and suffocating and Hermione suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe. She couldn't possibly stay here any longer! She had already wasted so much precious time by chasing information, or lack thereof, in hopes of getting a conclusion that was never meant to be found here in the first place. She had come to 1979 on a whim, on an idea that she had that she would find answers, only to have the hope of finding them completely dissolve right before her eyes thanks to a bloody line through a list that she paid no attention to beforehand!

The longer she stayed, the more likely she was to ruin everything. To completely screw up the future that was already hanging in broken pieces thanks to what felt like a never ending war. Every thirty days that she remained, she was risking lives. She could have already fucked up past the point of no return, she knew that. But the longer she stayed, the more opportunity that she did something she couldn't take back.

But then again…

As she looked at Remus, her stomach fluttered and her chest ached. She knew that whatever feelings she had developed for him had started instantaneously, the second she laid eyes on him the night she arrived. And now, she craved him. The moments they weren't together, the very short time he spent away from her, she felt like half of herself. Had she always had feelings this strong for him? In her own time, she knew she must have felt strongly about him, the lack of emotion in what little memories of him she could bring forward was shocking, a tell-tale sign that those memories had been altered to reduce the emotion.

Was pursuing the feelings she had for Remus more important than continuing her mission? To find the cure for the curse that thrummed inside her veins and seeped into her magical core. She would turn if she didn't find the answers. She would be gone, probably forever, or at least until someone else figured it out. And who else was there? At the rate of which the Order was losing people, they would be abolished within a few years. The Death Eaters would win and Dolohov would take over. No one would care about Muggleborns or dementors!

But if she stayed…

If she stayed here, she could at the very least enjoy her time before she was gone forever. She could feel what it was like to love someone, to be loved in return. Not the kind of love she and Harry shared, not the love she thought she had with Ron… But real weak in the knees and dry in the mouth kind of love. Because that's what this was, wasn't it? The feelings she had been stamping down and shoving away everytime they reared at her. She was in love with him.

As the realization finally put words to the feeling in her chest, she felt her eyes leak the tears she had been trying to hold at bay. Her mouth twisted as her teeth sank into her lip, trying to keep her chin from trembling as she dragged her eyes up to meet Remus' face.

"Move in here, with me." Hermione whispered, afraid that if she spoke any louder her voice would crack and she would completely fall to pieces.

"I don't want your cottage when you leave, I don't… I don't want your fucking pity, Hermione."

She had to make a decision. Right now. Does she stay, or does she leave? Does she continue risking the future to remain in the past, to satisfy her own selfish needs, her own wants? She hated not knowing what to do. She hated not having the ability to research, to make a truly educated decision. But this wasn't battle and this wasn't healing. There wasn't a book or a journal that she could obsessively take notes over and come up with a formula to give her the best possible outcome.

Hermione had made a mistake, a monumental mistake, when she followed the voice in her head that told her that Draco was right, that she would find all the answers she needed in this time. But that mistake had already been made. If she left, would she just be making another mistake?

"So, I'll stay." The words left her lips on a breath, before she had even thought about it fully. Again, following her not-so-reliable gut feeling, letting the first words her mind supplied leave her mouth.

"Can you?" Remus asked, a bitter edge to his tone.

Hermione felt her shoulders lift in a shrug, "As long as I do the ritual every thirty days, I can stay. If you want me to stay, Remus, I will stay."

"Do you… Do you even want to stay here? You have nothing here, I know that."

I have you! Her mind screamed, forcing her to look up at him. "Do you want me to stay?" Hermione asked, her eyes burning into his, holding tight on his gaze and refusing to look away.

"I want you to do whatever you have to do," Remus said, his jaw clenching tight for a moment, the muscle beneath it jumping. "If you have to leave… Well, I should've known it was coming, shouldn't I?"

"Ask me."

"Ask you what?"

"Ask me to stay. If you want me to stay, Remus, tell me to stay."

Hermione could practically see the frustration with himself and with her words simmering beneath his skin. She watched as Remus warred with himself, his hand coming up to run over his face as his other arm crossed over his bare chest. Never in her twenty-two years, would Hermione have thought she would be doing this. That she would be choosing to put her own feelings above others, above the future, above the answers. But Remus was brilliant. Lily, James, and Sirius were brilliant. Between the five of them, Hermione was sure they could find an answer, could figure something out. This had to be why she was supposed to come here, if not to find the answers laid out in the way she had hoped they would be, perhaps she would find them with their help!

Or die trying.

And that's what it all came to, wasn't it? She would either die here, in 1980 with her arms wrapped around the neck of someone she's loved longer than her mind could supply the time frame for, or she would go back to 2001 and die surrounded by her friends, knowing that she left Remus behind. Would staying change everything? Change nothing at all? She had no idea.

"Stay."

Hermione blinked several times, her mind feeling sluggish as it tried to catch up with the whisper of a word from his lips. She felt her arms drop to her sides, heavy as led. "W-what?"

"Stay," Remus said, with more conviction. "I want you to stay."

"You're sure?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

She hadn't expected him to laugh, but here he was, laughing. His face lit up, a bright white smile beneath kiss-swollen lips. His eyes wrinkled and he held his abdomen as if she had told the most hilarious joke he had ever heard. He laughed loudly, booming, the sound filling the room and seeping through her skin to make her heart skip a beat.

"In my entire life, there are three things I am sure of," Remus said, small chuckles burping through his words as he calmed. "The first is that every month, every full moon, will be hell. The second is that I am too bloody fucking tall."

"Remus, I don't understand…" Hermione interrupted, pulling her brows together as she tried to make sense of his reaction.

Remus took two strides toward her, closing the gap between them, he grabbed both her hands and looked down at her, his brilliant gold and green irises staring at her, holding her gaze captive, "The third is that I… I will never be good enough for you-

"Don't say-

He dropped one of her hands, holding his up to stop her and continued, "I know I'm not enough. I can't hold a job, I… I'm bloody awkward, even in the best of situations. I'm never going to be able to give you what you deserve. And that's just the tip of the iceberg, isn't it? I'm broken, and you're asking me if I'm sure? Sure that I want you?" Remus nodded, his smile coming back to his face, "If you'll have me, then yeah, I reckon I'm pretty fuckin' sure."

Remus dropped her hands to cup her face, his thumbs swiping away the tears that trailed under her eyes. His skin was warm, comforting, and she took in a slow breath, breathing in the smell of cedar and chocolate and earl grey tea. He stooped down, his lips pillowing against hers as he angled her jaw up, holding her face, her hands on top of his.

Slowly, Remus pulled away, nearly bending in half at the waist to press his forehead against Hermione's. "Stay," he whispered. "Please, stay."

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a/n: I have no idea if anyone is even getting this update, but if you do, can you please let me know if you read via app or browser? I am very frustrated with ffn this week _

anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!

xo