Chapter 74: Tuesday, June 2, 1981

"The greatest love stories are not those in which love is only spoken, but those in which it is acted upon."

-Steve Maraboli

A new moon.

That's what the books she had found on the subject had dictated. For nearly a fortnight, Hermione researched the topic, consuming every bit of information she could find on the bonding ritual of werewolf and mate—and admittedly, it wasn't much.

They all said the same thing.

New moon, two bites, rituals written in blood on the chest of the werewolf and the mate. It seemed to be a rather primal affair, most of the text suggesting the ritual needed to take place outside, under the dim light of the new moon, and involved sexual intercourse. Not that she needed a reason to join her body with Remus. Merlin knew she would live in their bed for the rest of eternity if she could.

Remus did not seem to be looking forward to this ritual, however, and they had spent many hours discussing it at length. He was terrified that marking her could put her in danger, that sinking his teeth into her flesh may somehow poison her. He had spent three anxiety riddled days vehemently rejecting the idea, telling her he didn't want to risk infecting her with lycanthropy.

She understood his fears—to an extent. Truth be told, she had no idea what would happen when they completed the ritual, it was vague in the books she had read. The bond would complete at the next full moon, whatever that meant, and there wasn't much recorded about it beyond that. She had no idea what to expect during the actual ritual itself.

After much planning, they had decided to do the ritual at the cabin his grandfather had left his father when he passed away. His father had essentially relinquished ownership of the house to Remus, but Remus had no reason to move. The cabin was secluded, Remus had promised, and old, but there would be little chance of anyone wandering upon them.

When their feet hit the ground and Hermione opened her eyes, her stomach fell.

The cabin was familiar to her, intimately so. In fact, she had spent an exorbitant amount of time here...brewing potions...with Snape.

"This...this is your grandfather's old cabin?" Hermione asked, trying to hide the shock in her voice.

"I know," Remus muttered. "It's run down. He moved after my grandmother died and never returned. I let Dumbledore use it as a safehouse."

"I know," Hermione said. "I've been here."

"You have?"

She nodded, "This is where I come on Sundays."

"On...Sundays…" Remus repeated slowly, "With Snape."

"Yeah."

Remus sighed, running a hand over his face. "There's no chance…?"

"I doubt it," Hermione said. "I'm fairly certain the only reason he comes here is because Dumbledore orders him to."

Remus swallowed and nodded, "Perhaps we should check, to be sure?"

Hermione nodded, "We can set up the bedroom while we're at it. I don't think it's been cleaned in years."

Remus adjusted the strap of the knapsack he had slung over his shoulder and headed toward the door. A tingling sensation enveloped them as they crossed the wards, entering the protected perimeter of the land. The door creaked as it opened and Hermione followed Remus inside, the familiar smell of brewing potions hanging heavily in the humid air.

The cabin was dark, no lights to indicate someone was present. Still, they stepped through every room, double checking they were alone before Remus set a spell to alarm should anyone show up unannounced. He made his way into the small bedroom and began to unpack the bag while Hermione cast cleaning charms and a few extra cushioning charms to the bed to give them a place of comfort for the night.

"I brought murtlap essence and dittany," Remus muttered, pulling out the jars and setting them on the table. "I'm not sure if the wounds will heal on their own. Werewolf bites tend to heal at a slower rate…"

"You aren't in werewolf form, Remus." Hermione reminded him, "I'm sure I'll heal just fine."

He was nervous, she could tell, and she didn't blame him. Truth be told, she was too. But, she was elated, excited and jittery with a strange giddiness that the nerves brought along with them. It was a different type of nervousness, similar to the feeling of performing a complex bit of magic in front of a crowd. Her stomach swooped with butterflies that tingled head to foot, anticipation of what would happen by the end of the night

It felt like rebellion. Like she was laying stake to the life she could claim for herself, taking a leap in the direction she could dictate, wrong timeline be damned. She was free of a curse that had plagued her for nearly two years, unshackled from the vows she had made to return and to lie. She could be open and truthful and let herself be more attached than she had ever been to anyone. She felt like she was giving a two finger salute to the rules of time and it was exciting.

When Remus' shaking hands finally set the knapsack on the floor, Hermione stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, her face pressed to his chest as she listened to the rapid, steady thumping of his heart. Here, now, this was what was important. She would stay, she would change everything, she would give Harry the life he deserved to have. She would give Remus the love he needed. She would rewrite time and keep him safe. They would grow old and grey together, surrounded by friends and happiness. When she closed her eyes and listened to the steady beat, she could see it perfectly clear.

"Hermione, are you sure you want to do this?" Remus whispered, his arms snaking around her, holding her closer to him. "We don't have to."

"I want to," she said. "If you don't want to, we can leave. But, I'm in it for good, Remus."

She felt a puff of air brush atop her head and she pulled back, looking up at him quizzically.

"Moony," he mumbled. "He won't shut up."

Hermione smirked, "That's because he knows what's coming."

"It's driving me mad."

"You're talking to a wolf in your head, love. You might already be a little mad."

Remus laughed, visibly relaxing his tense shoulders. "You've got me there."

Hermione smiled and pushed up to her toes, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I'm the one bonding myself to the nutter who talks to himself, so you aren't the only mad one here."

"Takes one to know one, then?" he chuckled.

"Something like that."

Hermione had never in her life been nude outside of the comfort and cover of four walls. So, when the long grass tickled her ankles and swallowed her bare feet, a new set of flutters pulsed through her. It was exhilarating, she decided, being outside in the soft silver glow with nothing to hide her insecurities. Her eyes lingered on Remus as he walked ahead of her, the sinewy muscles of his back and shoulder outlined in the light. A breeze rippled through the air, causing the trees to shudder against the rush, as if the very land was anticipating the union.

Hermione was thankful for the warm, dry weather that accompanied the night. Glad the earth was not soupy with mud or frozen with ice. She mused that at the very least, it was a beautiful night to be naked outside. There was something to be said, she thought, for the way Remus looked against the backdrop of the trees and the grass, as well. He looked more comfortable now than in the two weeks since they had decided upon doing the ritual. Hermione supposed it was the connection with nature he must feel, thanks to Moony. For someone who did everything he could to deny indulging his lycanthropic side, there were certain quirks about it, she learned, that he could not stifle.

"So, do we just…?" Remus spoke, his voice soft in the night air as he turned to face her, his eyes roaming over her form.

"The books weren't really clear, but yes. I think so."

Remus moved toward Hermione, reaching out to take her hand in his. His eyes lingered on her face before dropping to hand, turning it over and looking at her forearm. His fingers lightly traced the scar that read MUDBLOOD on her forearm.

"You dropped the glamour," he whispered, his fingertips lingering on the 'M'.

"It seemed silly to keep it glamoured tonight," Hermione answered. "Like I was hiding part of myself."

She moved her opposite hand to his side, tracing her fingers with featherlight touch against the stretched and gnarled skin that sat above his hip and wrapped around his side. He flinched, but did not shrink away, as he normally would. After a year of seeing one another like this, Hermione felt her heart clench at the thought that he still felt the need to shy away. To move from her touch as she traced his many lines, a roadmap of scars and stories littered over his body. Physical proof of the years of torment and destruction to himself. Emotion swelled in her chest, making it hard to breathe and her eyes burned bright with tears. Finally, he would have something that no one else could claim. Something he could find as wonderful as she did, a beautiful birth of ancient magic only available to them because of his lycanthropy—not despite of it.

His hand left her forearm and trailed up to her shoulder and around the back of her neck where his fingers gently weaved through the mass of curls. "It's weird isn't it?" he asked.

"What is?"

"We've done this a hundred times, and it feels...different this time. Like there's more at stake?"

"We've never given ourselves to each other like this before," Hermione whispered, matter-of-fact. "It feels different, because it is."

The weight of the impending ritual clearly weighed heavily on Remus. Hermione felt freed by the thought of it, to know that she was giving every bit of herself to him—blood, soul, body as the ritual declared—to know that she would be connected to him no matter what. She would be a part of him, regardless of where life took them. But, she couldn't ignore the obvious terror Remus was clearly feeling. It was evident in the slight tremble of his fingers, in the nervous hitch of his voice.

"Remus, you've given me the option to deny this over and over. To back out, if I changed my mind before now. I need you to know that I haven't changed my mind, and I never will. I want to do this. But, if you don't want to, if you aren't comfortable with this… We can leave. I don't want you to do this if you aren't—"

"I want this," he said, with more conviction than any time previous. "You're it for me. Even if we don't…" he stopped and swallowed hard. "I-if we don't do this...you're it. I love you, and there's no going back for me. But you could...if you want to go back home—"

"You are my home, you silly man."

Remus bit back a smile and bobbed his head a few times before lowering his face to hers and claiming her lips in the tenderst of kisses. Hermione could feel every bit of self-doubt and uncertainty in the kiss, but she could also feel the honesty of his words through the movement of his lips. The soft brush of his tongue against the swell of her bottom lip wrote love stories that would put Charlotte Bronte to shame. The gentle way he pressed the pads of his fingers into the nape of her neck wrote ballads, the gentle cupping of her jaw and the flush of his chest against hers, weaved gorgeous sonnets that prickled against her skin and caused goose bumps.

He meant every word he said, every pull of his lips and every caress of her skin.

As their lips moved in tandem, Hermione tilted her head to the side a bit, deepening the kiss. She sighed and allowed passage of his tongue to her mouth, reveling in the silky feel and taste of him. His hands roamed over her, brushing up and down her spine with shivering touches and soon, she felt heat begin to surge within her. A pleasant tightening in her lower belly that made her forget the last of the lingering awkwardness of being outdoors, in the open.

Remus broke their kiss, his hands splayed across Hermione's back and his lips fell to the soft skin on her jaw, trailing down her neck. His tongue dragged against her pulse point, causing a shiver to tear up her spine and she could feel his mouth pull into a smirk as he pressed his mouth against her throat.

"Remus!" Hermione gasped, as his hands moved, grasping the round of her backside.

His lips trailed further south, peppering kisses over her collar. He dropped to his knees, pressing kisses between her breasts before tugging her body closer to him. His lips closed over her left nipple, his tongue swirling the pink peak. Hermione's hands roamed through Remus' soft hair, her nails dragging over his scalp as a soft moan escaped her. He nipped, kissed, and sucked his way over her abdomen at a maddeningly slow pace, Hermione squirming against every touch with impatience as the pool of heat between her thighs burned hotter.

When his hand wrapped around one of her thighs and pulled it over his shoulder, Hermione nearly lost her footing. He pressed a lingering kiss to her mons and looked up at her through fair lashes, his eyes a darkened gold, swimming with green. He watched her as his tongue darted out to press against her clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure rippling through her. Her heel dug into his back as she hunched over, holding his head to her.

He swirled his tongue over her, his arm banding around her thigh to hold her in place as his mouth performed its own magic against her slickened folds. Her fingers twisted tighter into his hair as her eyes rolled backward into her head, her chest heaving with effort to catch breath as moans poured from her throat.

"Oh my god, Remus!" Hermione nearly shouted when his lips closed around her sensitive nub and he gave a hard suck to the bundle of nerves, causing her to plummet from the edge of pleasure he had brought her to. Her eyes clenched hard and she cried out, a high pitched moan as he continued to lap at her through her orgasm.

"Do it," Hermione whined, "The first bite, do it now."

Her chest was heaving as her thighs twitched from the effort of remaining upright. Remus hesitated momentarily before pressing several kisses to the inside of her thigh. The anticipation as she waited for his teeth to sink into her caused Hermione to shudder and Remus paused.

"Are you—"

"Now! Remus, I need you to do it now!"

He gave a tiny nod and looked up at her, his eyes completely gold, before his teeth sank into the tender skin of her inner thigh.

Hermione had expected pain, but instead, another wave of pleasure surged through her and she cried out, gasping as his tongue dragged over the place his teeth had just been. She tried to open her eyes, but she felt momentarily blinded, her vision crossed and blurry as she tried to regain a clear head, fighting through a thick fog. She wanted to ask Remus if he was okay, but she seemed to forget how to speak words.

And then she felt it.

A tug somewhere in her chest, like a line of magic being drawn, linking to the bite on her inner thigh. The mark symbolized body, she assumed, an intimate bite claiming her body as one with the werewolf who staked his claim. Her skin beneath his mouth grew hot momentarily and heard Remus mutter a soft "woah" as the skin tingled with magic.

Remus pulled his face from between her thighs, staring up at her in amazement as her leg dropped from his shoulder. Rapid panting breaths broke through the backdrop of crickets and low ribbits of nearby frogs. Hermione sank to her knees before Remus, her hands still in his hair, and pulled his face to hers, kissing him hard.

There had been several times in their short relationship that Hermione felt a need for Remus burning hot within her, but nothing compared to the absolute inferno that had gripped her insides. It incinerated every coherent thought to ash and pulsed in waves of molten desire, the prickle of magic and haze of pleasure threatened to consume her completely.

Her lips trailed over the stubble of his jaw to his neck, leaving small nips to the skin that elicited a low loan from him. She needed him now. The feel of his skin on hers was almost too much, the light tracing of his fingers on her back, the slight tug of her hair and the sounds that escaped him...she wanted to be wrapped in him until she knew nothing else but Remus.

Gently, the stiff, smooth skin of his erection prodded against her abdomen and her hand traced the deep scars that covered his chest, over the lumpy prints left behind by silver chains and gouges taken from his own flesh by claws he could not control until her fingers hit the trail of soft brown hair beneath his navel. A small gasp left Remus when she gently combed the hair with her fingers before dipping lower still, finally wrapping her delicate hand around his cock. He hissed against the crown of her head, her lips moving against his chest as she began to stroke him, slowly.

"F-fuck, Hermione." He stammered, breathing heavily through his nose.

She kissed her way back to his mouth, leaving one searing kiss against his lips before pulling away. The action was met with an indignant huff from Remus and she chuckled, turning around to face the expanse of the lush trees, swaying in the light early summer breeze.

"What...what are you…?"

"Back of the neck," Hermione whispered, her voice rough with longing. "That's what the books said."

Hermione positioned herself in front of him, falling forward to land on her elbows, her hips angled up, putting herself on full display. She pulled her hair to the side and looked over her shoulder, straining her neck to look at Remus' face, and saw his eyes drag over her form. Her skin prickled beneath his gaze, and a low whine escaped her when his hands finally rested on her hips, pulling them back so the head of his cock pressed gently against her entrance.

Finally, he pushed forward, burying himself within her and a broken shout tumbled past her lips, intertwining with a low groan as he began to rock against her. As his hips moved, snapping forward against her backside, she felt dizzy from the overwhelming pull of magic from her chest to the bite on her thigh. With each thrust, she moaned, keened, and wailed-unable to stifle the sobs of pleasure.

"You—fuck—f-feel it, too?" Remus rasped, his fingers digging into her hips with a bruising grip.

"Yes! Yes! Shit. Remus, what—God, there. Right there!—What is it?" Hermione answered, her chest heaving with effort to keep her breathing steady.

The breeze licked her sweat soaked skin and a shiver caused her to back spasm and her inner walls to clench around him. Remus yelled out a moan that she had never heard from him before and he fell forward, his arms framing hers and his chest against her back as he continued to snap his hips forward at a furious pace.

The sound of the night was drowned out by Remus' breath in her ear. The growls and grunted swears that timed with the slapping of flesh on flesh as he pounded into her. Her own breath ragged and her throat scratchy and raw from shouting his name to the heavens.

She tucked her chin to her chest in an attempt to stifle another cry as the band of tension snapped, an explosion of fire coursing through her as the world went fuzzy with white noise, muffling Remus' own cries of pleasure as his hips jerked out of rhythm. She felt his arm band around her torso, just under breasts, his fingers digging into her ribs as he hauled her upright from the ground. His other arm wrapped around her, holding her pressed against his chest as his hand sunk down and his fingers swiped rapid circles over her clit.

"I-I think...fucking hell...I need to d-do it now." Remus stammered in a low, gravelly voice.

"Yes!" Hermione sang, unsure if it was to urge him on or to agree to what he said.

In an instant. his teeth found the back of her neck and another choked cry of bliss spilled from her kiss-swollen lips. She could feel blood trickle from the bite, mingling with the sweat on her shoulder, but there was no pain. A sharp, pulsing radiated from her chest to the new mark as her mouth fell open and her ears filled with the sound of Remus moaning and her own whines.

His hips stopped moving, his body sagging slightly against her own and finally, her head began to clear a bit. She swallowed, blinking heavily a few times in an attempt to gain some semblance of composure.

"The-the runes," she whispered, still gulping for cool air.

"Y-yeah."

As Remus pulled away from her, she felt suddenly extremely empty. The loss of contact almost painful after feeling so connected with him, as if their two bodies had truly become one. A strange tugging sensation pulled at her chest, and she briefly wondered if it was the ancient werewolf magic they were invoking or a heart palpitation.

He shuffled around her, still on his knees as he faced her. His pupils blew wide and the gold of his irises bright as they stared at her in wonder.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm perfect," she breathed. "The runes, Remus. We have to draw the runes."

He gave a slight nod and his hand moved to the back of her neck to coat his fingertips in the blood that slicked her skin. He brought them to her chest and quickly drew the three runes: body, blood, and soul. The marks took on a strange luminescence, shimmering gold beneath the dull, silver light that encompassed them. His fingers returned to the nape of her neck to collect more of the pooled crimson and fell to his own chest, his hand trembling severely now.

"This is it," he murmured, a hint of uncertainty in his breath as he stared at her.

"I know," Hermione said.

She reached her own hand to the back of her neck and smeared the blood against her fingers, bringing them to Remus' chest as she kept eye contact with him.

"Blood," she said, drawing the rune against the puckered pink skin of his marred torso.

His hand fell over hers, their fingers making the next mark, together. "Body," he whispered.

She inched closer to him, the tug in her chest dictating the movement, forcing them closer together again as she dragged the pads of her fingers over his skin again, "And soul."

She gasped and her hands flew to his shoulders to steady herself as the soft shimmer on her skin began to glow, heat radiated from the marks through her chest and into her very core, her life line, her magic. Remus jerked forward, wrapping her in a tight embrace, pressing their chests together as the heat between them became almost unbearable. Her eyes went wide as streaks of brilliant, sparkling gold erupted between them.

And suddenly, she could feel it, the beat of his heart as if it was in her own chest. The blood rushing through his veins, the expansion of his lungs as he took in the crisp air that surrounded him. The overwhelming sensation of truly being bound to another person caused her vision to go blurry, a dizzying array of silver and gold as she blinked, trying to gain some sort of control back.

Just as abruptly as it started, the strange pull ended and she felt Remus' arms loosen his grip on her, his body sagging against her own.

.

.

a/n: The ritual! *cue burning elmo gif*