AU!

Written for Summer Camp, IWSC

Week 1: Dodgeball

Task: write about avoidance

WRITTEN FOR QLFC, RESERVE LEAGUE

SEASON 4, ROUND 7

Pairing: S.S. Beauty and the Beast

WC: 2563

Most of Fleur's clothes lay spread out on the bed in front of her, and Hermione peered into the cupboard to inspect it. Fleur sat on the floor, her legs crossed under her. "So, Hermione, you see what an elegant lady wears?"

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," Hermione muttered, still pulling out clothes from Fleur's cupboard and holding them up for inspection before tossing them onto the bed. "So, pastel colours, lace, silk, cotton, linen…"

"They're actually 'natural' colours," Fleur said, correcting her gently. "Colours like beige, ivory, grey, black, taupe, khaki, brown, white, baby blue, soft pink, light yellow—all these enhance your femininity. They elevate your look and make you feel confident as a feminine woman."

Hermione pursed her lips at the words 'feminine woman', and Fleur noticed her expression. The blonde witch chuckled and said, "Darling, femininity doesn't mean you have to stop being—what did Ron call you?—a 'badass witch who takes no shit'. Nothing is more attractive than a woman who can kick butts and take names while dressed in a dress that makes her feel pretty."

"I know I feel comfortable in these frocks I bought with you, but it's always been drilled in my head that being feminine is… is weak. It's bad. How do I get out of that mindset? I'm ashamed to say that... at Hogwarts, I used to think Lavender and Parvati were airheads who only cared about their looks. I feel like by doing this, I'm copying them…"

Fleur shook her head and got to her feet. "No, Hermione. Being feminine doesn't mean you're any bit lesser than a man. My maman always drilled it into my head that a high-quality woman should always take care of her appearance. Think of this as trying something new. Why deny yourself something you want to try on the preconceived notion that it'll make you a bad feminist?"

"I do feel pretty in these," Hermione admitted, trying not to fidget with the hem of her dress. It felt light and airy, and the hem reached her knees and made her legs look longer. She had put the dress on earlier that morning and even did a shy little twirl in front of the mirror, wondering how Remus would react to seeing her in it.

He had stared at her a bit longer than usual, which had sent her heart dropping into her stomach from excitement. Sirius had snickered and given her a quick wink.

Fleur said, "There is nothing wrong with feeling pretty, darling. Never feel ashamed of it."

Hermione smiled. Fleur had a way of making her relaxed and acknowledged her emotions without overwhelming her. The two women had struck up a friendship after the war had ended, and even Ginny had been surprised by how strong their bond was now. At one time in her life, Hermione had agreed with Ginny when the redhead had complained about Fleur being too… different.

Now, neither Hermione nor Ginny ever badmouthed Fleur. They were all good friends, and Fleur acted as a mentor to teach Hermione about femininity and fashion, two things she once thought made a person a terrible feminist.

Hermione sighed and plopped on the edge of the bed, her ankles automatically crossing like Fleur had taught her. "I still don't think I can compete with Tonks… She's really pretty, and she's older, too. She's got more experience with men, and I think Remus would be better suited with her. Do you think I should just go up to him and ask him out before it's too late? I don't want to just wait around and do nothing."

"You are an intelligent, beautiful young woman," Fleur stated, "but you need to remember one important thing. Women do not chase men. It's considered uncouth. Gauche. Desperate. Are you desperate?"

Hermione bit her lip and shot Fleur a pointed look. "I—"

Fleur shook her head and raised her hand. "No, don't answer that. The point is, ma cherie, that if he is man enough, he will come after you. No questions asked."

"But he might not even know I like him. He's always been very shy, and—"

"Darling, do you think I chased Bill in the beginning stages of our relationship? No. he chased me because he's a masculine man who knows what he wants and he goes after it. A masculine man always goes after what he wants, and if Remus wants you enough, he will chase you, pursue you."

"Remus is too shy," Hermione started to say, but Fleur raised her hand to interrupt her.

"Being shy has nothing to do with masculinity, Hermione," Fleur declared. "My grand-maman told me that no matter how hard you try, you cannot make a man do anything. What you can do is influence him."

"You mean manipulate?"

"No. Influence. Influence is not the same as control. Influence is how you turn the odds in your favour, increase the probability of success with the man you want, and so on. I'm going to teach you some ways that will make you more desirable to Remus, and he won't be able to keep his hands off you."

Remus sat on the couch and drummed his fingers against his thigh. He stared into the unlit fireplace, thinking what his next course of action should be.

He knew he wanted Hermione. He needed her, craved her, longed for her. He ached for her touch, her gaze, her kisses. That much was true. But could he get over his own fears of inferiority about being a werewolf, her former professor, and being twice her age? He groaned and dropped his head into his palms, clenching his eyes shut as an image of Hermione smiling up at him flashed through his mind.

"Merlin, I need a strong drink," Remus muttered to himself, getting to his feet. He trudged to the kitchen and began rifling through the cabinet to find something strong enough to dull his senses, for the time being, that didn't taste terrible. He pulled out a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey and popped off the cork.

A soft hiss escaped the bottle, and he poured it into a tall glass. He chugged it down (as if he was still seventeen and celebrating a Quidditch win) and grimaced as flames burst from his nostrils, warming his face.

Sirius wandered into the kitchen, but Remus didn't turn around. He had just poured himself another glass and raised it to his mouth when Sirius cried, "Hey, how come you're hogging the good shit? We promised to leave it for a good time. Give it here!"

Remus rolled his eyes but handed Sirius the bottle, too occupied with trying to make sense of the heads or tails of his feelings for the brunette witch they lived with.

He'd been attracted to her ever since he'd caught her wearing his clothes in the library. It had been because of a prank war Sirius and the Weasley twins had been caught up in, but Remus hadn't cared. He'd taken one look at her as she lay curled up on the couch with a book on her knees, and Remus swore he had lost his sanity at the sight.

Now, he was just plain obsessed with her. Her delicious scent would give him a semi every time she entered a room. The moment she started biting her lip, his cock refused to go down until he did something about it. The sight of her shapely calves in those little summer frocks she wore would turn off his mind for the better part of the day. The way her hips swayed as she walked would force him to rush up to the toilet and wank off like a prepubescent child.

Everything she did gave him an awkward boner that he just couldn't hide behind his robes because he couldn't just walk around the house with them on. The thought had crossed his mind, but then, he had come to the realisation that Sirius would obviously tease and make crude remarks about his situation, so he'd given up that idea before it could properly simmer in his mind.

"Tell me you're not thinking about Hermione again," Sirius said with a sigh. When Remus didn't reply, Sirius groaned and reached over to smack Remus's head. "Mate, be a Gryffindor. Go up to her and snog her already, or ask her out first, if you want to be old-fashioned about it! You've been avoiding this for so long. Put me out of my misery."

Remus muttered, "I just want to be sure about this, that's all… What if she isn't interested?"

"I told you she's interested. Have I ever lied to you?" When Remus stared at him pointedly, Sirius corrected himself. "Okay, fine. Do you think I'd ever lie to you about something this big? No."

Remus shook his head. "It's not that easy, Pads. I'm too old for—"

"Boohoo."

"—a werewolf—"

"Boohoo."

"—her profess—"

"Boo-fucking-hoo, Moony," Sirius stated.

"Stop interrupting me, Pads, and let me complain. I always let you complain about your petty sorrows!"

"No, you stop complaining and do something about your feelings. Do you want her to go out with you or not? If you waste your time whining to me about all your stupid excuses, some braver man's going to come in and sweep her off her feet."

Remus's throat clenched up at Sirius's lecture. His lungs constricted as he thought of someone else touching Hermione like Remus himself wanted. His wolf reared its head and snapped his teeth, rage bubbling in his chest like molten lava. Remus growled, "Fine. I'll do it."

"That's the spirit, mate!" Sirius chugged down his Firewhiskey and thumped Remus's back. "Go, get your girl. And I better not see your ugly mug for the rest of the week."

Remus swallowed the rest of his own drink before striding towards the door. He was a man on a mission, and he would get his girl.

There was only one little problem.

Hermione seemed to be ignoring him.

It had been a week since Sirius had pushed Remus to go after what he wanted, but Remus hadn't been able to strike up a conversation with Hermione for even a couple of minutes.

Every time he tried to talk to her, the little witch would subtly navigate her way around him without meeting his gaze.

Just a few hours ago, Hermione had walked into the living room, taken one look at him reading on the couch, and she'd slunk away without a word. She hadn't even given him any time to get to his feet and pursue her. By the time he had run after her, she had Flooed away, leaving only the scent of her floral perfume behind.

Last night, Remus had tried to corner her near the library, but she had managed to evade him by ducking into Harry's old room and Apparating out of there without a sound.

The day before yesterday, Remus had woken up at the crack of dawn and crept downstairs to the living room to make sure he could talk to her, but Hermione had woken up even earlier and disappeared into the depths of the Ministry.

A few days earlier, Remus had tried to get Sirius to corner her with him, but she'd even dodged their combined attempts.

But tonight, Remus was determined to talk to her one way or the other.

Enough was enough.

Remus lay sprawled outside Hermione's bedroom, his arms under his head. The hallway was unlit, and the floor under him was cool to the touch but also uncomfortable. Remus didn't dare use any magic to ease his discomfort, worried Hermione would feel his presence and hide away from him.

Remus was on the verge of falling asleep when the door beside his head softly clicked open. A soft beam of light emanated through the hallway, and Remus quickly sat up, squinting at the door.

"Hermione, please, I need to talk to you," he begged through the small gap in the door, and the door quickly slammed shut. Remus crawled closer and placed his hand on the wooden surface. "Hermione, please…"

Silence.

Remus closed his eyes and rested his head against the door. "Okay, fine. If you don't want to talk to me, I understand. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to. Just… Just listen to me, okay?"

Still, no reply.

Her frantic heartbeat sounded in Remus's ears, and he winced, not wanting her to be scared of him. "I just have to tell you that… that I can't bear to be away from you. I need you more than I thought was physically possible. My mind goes blank when I see you. Judging by the way you've been avoiding me, I figure you don't feel the same way as I do, but—"

The door swung open, and Hermione was there in the doorway, her eyes wide as she stared down at Remus. He scrambled to his feet, his heart thumping against his ribcage. "Hermione, I—"

"Do you mean it?" she whispered, staring at him with wide eyes.

"With my whole heart. I can't stop thinking about you. I need you. Please… This past week has been hell. Why were you avoiding me?"

"I thought you were trying to let me down gently. Merlin knows I've been trying to act subtle about my attraction to you and failing," she murmured, tugging on her sleeves. Remus's throat constricted when he noticed what she was wearing. The baby-blue frock was long and billowy, and the fabric was thin, almost see-through.

The tension left his body, and relief enveloped him in its warm embrace. He stumbled closer to her, shoulders relaxed and knees weak. "You mean you…"

"I thought you were interested in someone else. Tonks keeps coming over to see you, and I thought you might be trying to let me down gently so you could be with her."

How could she even think that? Why would he ever be interested in Tonks when he could have Hermione herself? It was a miracle he hadn't talked himself out of pursuing the Gryffindor witch.

"You're a brilliant witch, but you're so oblivious about these things, aren't you?"

"Fleur was trying to teach me how to act more desirable, but I keep failing."

Failing? It looked like Remus was better at hiding his feelings than he thought. He had truly believed that everyone could see the constant boner he had for her.

It was time to drop all pretences.

Remus took one large step towards her, engulfing her in his arms. She buried her face in his chest, her voluminous curls puffing up against his nose. Her sweet, sweet scent wafted to his nose, and his heart thundered as the implication hit him. She was in his arms. She wasn't scared of him. She seemed to want him just as much as he wanted her.

Before his mind could start making half-hearted excuses again, Hermione tilted her head up, and Remus pressed his mouth insistently over hers.

Remus's mind blanked.

An explosion of light went off behind his closed eyes at the wonderful sensation of her lips. He reached up to cup her face, tilting her head a little. She sighed into his mouth, and Remus's wolf finally took over.