December 17th, 1976

When Professor Slughorn created his little club, the idea had been simple. To make an inclusive group of top students meet for intellectual debates and create a network of alumni who had managed to make a name for themselves and students who had the most chances of becoming important enough to be worth knowing intimately. With time, reasons to join the clubs became more about personal ambitions and less about academic debates. Meet people who might become useful in your future, find a way to become part of their group and take advantage of being stuck in close proximity with them for seven years to convince them being useful to you will end up being useful to them.

As a result, there wasn't a great variety of types of students attending Slughorn's diners and parties. Pureblood boys who weren't heirs to their fathers' titles and would need to follow their own paths in life, half-bloods who were only known through a more or less distant relative's accomplishments and hoped to use it to secure themselves a somewhat satisfying future, and muggleborns who had no one but themselves in the wizarding world and had realized early enough most of the more interesting positions at the Ministry were held by people who had ended up where they were because they knew the right kind of people.

There were these three types of students, and then there was Hermione.

Hermione, who wanted to keep studying after Hogwarts and work instead of following tradition and spend the rest of her life planning and attending social events. Hermione, who hoped to meet scholars and unspeakables who might agree to take her as an apprentice for her mastery.

Hermione, who was trying with all the subtlety she possessed to get Slughorn's insufferable guests to stop asking her about her father and older brother to talk about her own plans for the future. She hadn't gotten anywhere so far and mentally congratulated herself for choosing the right partner for the evening as Jax Rowle, childhood friend and current knight in shining armor, used the hand at the small of her back to lead her away from the pompous wizard they had been talking to.

The two of them headed towards the table on the side of the room where a tasteful selection of elf wines and juices had been placed. Their movements were smooth, their steps falsely casual as they said hello to some people and dodged others' attempts to talk to them. It was a skillfully mastered choreography, one they had been practising for years during the few social events they had been allowed to attend.

"I'm more in the mood for firewhiskey," confessed Hermione as she eyed the glass her friend offered to her. "Nothing is going the way I'd planned."

"And I'd be happy to provide it if I trusted you to hold your liquor," laughed her friend in answer.

She rolled her eyes at that, which only made Jax's lips stretch to form a smirk.

"Remember the night in Selwyn's garden last summer? I'm not risking it."

Hermione blushed at the memory of her jumping fully dressed in her friend's pond. Her small group of childhood friends, including her twin, had planned a small party in the garden, which had gotten out of hand when Norvyn Burke had brought several bottles of firewhiskey and dared the girls to drink some. Lord Selwyn had been so furious when he had found them drunk out of their mind, his daughter Ethia had been punished for the rest of the summer and all her friends had been banned indefinitely.

"Come on, it was just the six of us and we were all drunk. I'm not going to drink that much in public."

"The six of us and that poor little elf who had to bring you and Rab back to Rodolphus," teased Jax.

To say Roddy had been furious was an understatement. He hadn't gone as far as to tell their father, but his screams had resonated for a long time in her painfully hungover skull. Hermione turned her gaze towards the room to refrain from making a snarky comment on his father's own reaction, not wanting to fall back into a months-old argument. Unfortunately, the action made her eyes fall directly on Remus' weary face.

She had known he'd be there, had looked for him as soon as she had entered the room and done her best to avoid him as soon as she had seen him walk in with Lily Evans on his arm. Hermione didn't have anything against the witch, but the sight of her smiling so sweetly at Remus with her arm locked with his made her stomach twist in an unpleasant way.

At the moment though, Evans was nowhere in sight and Remus seemed awfully uncomfortable as he talked with a magizoologist Hermione hadn't bothered trying to remember the name of. Even from a distance, she could see his attempts to end the conversation, which would have made her laugh if his eyes hadn't met hers in a desperate plea. Taking pity on him, she set her empty glass on the table behind her and turned towards Jax.

"Ravenclaw's chaser is over there," she pointed out. "There's only two months left before the march between our Houses and he drank more than a few glasses of wine."

"Are you suggesting Slytherin needs to cheat to win?"

"I'm suggesting a friendly talk with a player of another team. What you decide to talk about and what you get out of it is none of my business."

His answering smile was full of mirth and his eyes gleamed with mischief as he excused himself and went in the direction of the unsuspecting Ravenclaw. As soon as his back was turned, Hermione approached Remus and softly grabbed his arm, ignoring the way his eyes widened as she turned towards the magizoologist with the sweetest smile she could muster. She gestured vaguely to her chest and Remus', attracting the men's attention to the badge that were pinned there despite them not wearing their uniforms.

"I am terribly sorry to interrupt, but Remus here is needed in the corridor. Prefect business, I'm sure you can understand. Please, do not wait on him, it could take a while. I heard Miss Gilbert over there is fascinated with magical creatures. I'm sure she would benefit greatly from hearing about the experience of a professional of your stature."

"Of course, Miss Lestrange, I wouldn't want─"

Hermione had turned on her heels and led Remus across the room before the man could finish talking, faking an urgency that prompted everyone to step out of her way. She only stopped once they reached the corridor and the door of Slughorn's rooms was closed behind them, letting go of Remus' arm to lean against the cold stone of the wall.

"You should wait a minute or two before going back. Just to make sure he moved on to another victim."

Remus laughed a little at that. His hand ran through his combed locks, ruining whatever effort had been made to style his hair as his eyes travelled down her body all the way down to her high heels. Red creeped up his cheeks as he seemed to realise what he was doing and he quickly turned his head, focusing on a detail engraved in the stone wall. They stayed like that for a minute, before something changed with Remus. She had no idea what was going on through his head, but she saw the way his arms crossed in a way that was probably meant to pass for casual but wouldn't have fooled a blind man.

"So, you and Rowle?" He blurted out.

Something in his expression told her it wasn't what he had been planning to say, but the idea of Jax and her being mistaken for anything other than friends was appalling enough to make her forget about Remus' clenched jaw and tensed shoulders.

"It's nothing like that," she explained with a shake of her head. "We've been friends since… Well, forever, give or take a year or two. Rab didn't want to come and he was one of the limited options that wouldn't have asked for it to be a date. So… Yeah. We're here together but just as friends."

Remus was satisfied by the explanation, as far as she could tell, and went back to his usual self in less than a second.

"Friends," he said in a tentative tone, as if testing the way the word rolled on his tongue. "That's nice. Friends. I mean, coming to Slughorn's party with a friend is nice."

Hermione wouldn't have minded going back to waiting in silence before going back to the party if a thought hadn't crossed her mind at the mention of the party.

"So…" she tried, unsure. "You and Evans?"

Remus' loud laugh was enough of an answer. The strange feeling that had her stomach in knots since the start of the party finally disappeared, leaving nothing but the warm sensation of relief behind.

"I wouldn't have made it to the dorm's door if there was anything between Lily and I. James is pretty serious about her."

"I didn't know they were together."

Of course, everyone in Hogwarts had witnessed Potter's attempts at proposals and courting, but she had always seen Evans reject him. There was something to be said about Potter's persistence but she couldn't understand why he would subject himself to such public and humiliating rejections, especially if they were already together.

"They aren't. Doesn't stop James from acting all territorial over her, just in case she gets a concussion one day and decides to give him a chance."

Hermione laughed at that, a genuine laughter that had Remus smiling so widely she wondered if it hurt.

The door next to her opened, interrupting her observation of Remus' smile and prompting her to move to the side, closer to where the werewolf was standing. The boy that came out looked at them with wide eyes when he noticed their presence, not even trying to hide his curiosity as he took in the sight of two prefects hanging out in a dark corridor. His eyes only widened some more when he recognised Hermione, pureblood slytherin, and Remus, half-blood gryffindor. The very definition of students people didn't expect to find alone in dark corridors, though Hermione made a point not to think about the things other people expected to see happening between a boy and a girl alone in dark corridors.

In a smooth movement, Remus was standing between the boy and her with his arms crossed, just a tad too far on the side to be considered in front of her but still very much in a protective stance that had the boy bidding them good night and walking away. Remus turned around with a sigh once the boy was far enough, his eyes meeting hers again.

"We should get back inside," suggested Hermione in a whisper.

"Maybe we should, yeah."

They didn't move though, which only gave Hermione more time to realise just how close he was. Close enough that she would be able to touch his shirt, if she only raised her hand. Close enough that she would be able to grab his shirt and pull on it to get him to lower his head. Close enough that if he lowered his head she could─

Her train of thought was interrupted when Remus raised his hand to tuck a stray curl back behind her ear, the tips of his fingers sending jolts of electricity all the way through her chest and to her lower abdomen as they brushed against her cheek. Her tongue ran across her lower lip in anticipation and she watched in fascination as his eyes followed the movement and stayed on her lips after her tongue went back inside her mouth.

She was about to lose her patience and raise on her toes to press her lips to his when his eyes went back to her, and he took a step back. Then another. His hand ran through his hair as he looked away, his red ears once again the only indicator that she hadn't imagined what had almost happened.

"We should… Yeah, see you inside."

And just like that, he was gone, and she was left standing like an idiot in the cold corridor.

She shouldn't have been surprised. There had been a lot of almost-kisses over the last few months since that first time in the library. Several during their study sessions. A few when he had walked her back to her common room after when she had given him her notes after he had missed classes because of a full moon.

At first, she thought she might have been mistaken. What did she know about what it looked like when boys wanted to kiss girls, anyway? She was a pureblood with exactly zero experience in all things romantic surrounded by girls who had the same level of experience, which wouldn't change until their parents started allowing potential husbands to court them. Bellatrix would be able to tell, she assumed, but she'd rather cast an avada kedavra on herself than ask her sister-in-law about what her brother looked like when he wanted to kiss his wife. That was, assuming he ever wanted to kiss his wife, which Hermione seriously doubted.

So, she had done the next best thing and started observing the non-pureblood students when they flirted and listening to the girls gossiping about boys at the dinner table. She had felt like a creep the whole time, but had at least been able to come to the conclusion that she wasn't crazy. She had been almost-kissed. By a werewolf who knew she was his mate and had still chosen to walk away everytime.

The last part genuinely hurt, and not just her pride.

It took her a moment to realise the wet sensation on her cheeks came from tears. Tears of frustration, mostly. Frustration towards him, anger at herself. So what if Remus didn't want to kiss her? They were friends. People weren't supposed to cry because their friends wouldn't kiss them. It wasn't logical, and Hermione was nothing but logical.

It didn't matter that she wanted him to kiss her, that he made her blush on a regular basis or that she couldn't help but think about him even when he wasn't around. It shouldn't matter. They were friends, and he obviously didn't like her like that.

The thought made her hand freeze over the cheek she was about to dry with her sleeve. He didn't like her like that, but she liked him like that. The werewolf didn't like his mate but his mate, the one who couldn't feel the pull of the bond, liked him. Hermione liked Remus.

Life had a twisted sense of humour and Hermione wasn't amused.