A/N: SOME SLASH REFERENCES! FAIR WARNING= FAIR GAME! Anyway, this chapter is kinda fucked up (scuse my french) and some other parts ended up getting pasted. I have no idea what the final prodcut will look like, so if its screwy, bear with me.




I pushed my way through the hall, defeatedly trying to steel myself against the joyful shouts and insults ringing through these halls. It was odd how I could never place myself among them, these careless children. I wondered how long my mother had stared at me in morose fascination with the abomination she had borne. Not for long, anyhow. She had died before my time.

A familar, light tap at my shoulder and Remus Lupin stood there, looking at me in an oddly brotherly manner. What do you want, I said in a voice that was clearly not a question. He shrugged,and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, walking in a jaunty fashion beside my stiff, formidable gait. You always want something, Lupin. You never pester without purpose.

He laughed, his face gaily lit by an unknown spark only he and James Potter seemed to posess. He patted my shoulder almost affectionately, You never change. With change comes disturbance. I'm not one for change, I said wearily, trying to shrug him off. He suddenly caught my by my elbow, and steered me quite hard in an altogether different direction.

We walked silently down an empty corridoor, and from the looks of it, one that had been long out of use. Lupin, remove your hands at once or I'll cast an Unforgivable on you, I said, my voice and mood at their most lethal. He stopped, and dropped his hand from my arm. I shook it off, and proceeded to brush my robes off in an insulted manner.

Why, exactly, have you dragged me down this godforsaken place? If you're going to kill me, at least do it in a less dingy place, I remarked arrogantly. He snorted, Far from that, old friend. I've something much more discomforting. A personal question to ask.

I glared at him, heart sinking at what I knew he was going to ask me. Why are you trying to hurt Hermione?, he asked, his mild voice colored by very, very repressed rage. , I almost shouted, shocked, where in the bloody hell did you get that idea? I'm not trying to hurt her, Lupin, and I can hardly see that it's any of your concern.

He looked even more tense, Than why is she always so weepy? Especially after she's been seen around with you?. I swallowed to fill the silence. I had no idea how to answer his question in a less than blunt manner. Granger and I have our differences, nothing is going to change that. Yes, I have been exceptionally rude to her, but we've....we've both mutually agreed that the past is in the past. I don't know why the silly woman is weeping. She's always weeping, snithering, snivelling, crying over something, I snapped.

How long have you had feelings for her?, Lupin said calmly, as if he were entirely unaware of the speech I had just made. I slumped against a wall, suddenly, deliriously tired. Bone tired, if you will.

I rubbed my temples, not knowing where to begin. When I saw her shortly after she graduated, I said quietly, more to myself than him, walking in Diagon Alley, not flanked by the two cretins. She looked...more confident, sure of herself. Womanly? Almost angelic, but a bit off. She's not beautiful, but she's fierce. There's something that smoulders there. When she came back...oh, I don't know, Lupin. A while, I finished lamely.

He nodded thoughtfully, pacing round the floor. I watched him cautiously, afraid he might pounce. And James?, he asked, and I reddened. Ah, yes, our man James. I did love James, you fool. For years. Who wouldn't? Beautiful, charming, intelligent. You could say he nearly charmed the pants off me. It wasn't only women he had a way with, I said bitterly, feeling bile rise with each word spoke. James wasn't..., Lupin said raggedly, looking at me with horror and terror.

Homosexual? No. Experimental, yes. Of course you knew about the way I felt of him. Perhaps you never knew the feeling were reciprocated to an extent. I was stupid and foolish. It was the last time I was ever reckless with my heart, I finished. Lupin looked nauseous.

Good gods, don't tell me you didn't know. Potter was a prying git. He loved to see both sides of the equation, I said cruelly. And you're willing to hurt Hermione just for some stupid grudge?, Lupin asked, his eyes wide as those of a witnessing child. I'm not going to hurt her. She requested my presence tonight, if I mean it. I'm not going to appear. Better than to publicly shame her, I whispered, wondering if I would have the strength of will to do it.

You won't go through with it, Lupin said suddenly, staring at me in a distant way, the last minute you'll change your mind, that's when you'll go. It's addictive, isn't it, lust? I saw you in the corridoor last night. You looked far from uninvolved. I scowled at him, knowing full well that what he said was true.

Go to hell, Lupin, I muttered angrily. He rose and began to walk down the hall. I followed sullenly. Don't intentionally hurt her, Severus. That wouldn't be fair, he said in an infuriatingly astute voice.

As soon as we had reached familiar ground, I billowed off in another direction, wanting to be by myself, sort out my emotions, trying to figure whether or not the thirty years of solitude had been wasted all along.

I ran to the library, feeling aged as my knee joints creaked. Pince looked up sternly, but immediately became much more good humoured when shen saw it was me. , she said pleasantly, and I nodded curtly. I walked straight into the restricted section, pulling out the exact book I desired. I sat down on the floor, wincing at the contact of the cold marble.

Gods know how long I pored over the damned thing, trying to concentrate, yet ponder things in the same instant. I suddenly felt two cool hands press themselves over my eyes. I yelped and rose unsteadily, pushing whoever it was into the wall. I opened my eyes, blinking back memories of darker times.Hermione Granger stood there, looking halfway amused and terrrified and wholly apologetic.

I'm sorry, she whispered, her hands dropping to her sides. Do not play games, Miss Granger, I said coldly, shoving her out of the way. It took all the strength in me not to inhale her. She gave me an annoyed glance, then sat down. She grabbed one of my hands eagerly, and motioned for me to sit beside her. I complied stiffly, crossing my legs, trying to keep contact with her at a minimum. She ran her fingers over the title of the book, and gave a small titter of laughter.

Something amusing, Granger?, I asked mildly, wondering if she had gone slightly insane. She rested her chin thoughtfully in her hands, I remember in second year, when Lockhart was still teaching here (a very caustic snort made by me) and Harry, Ron and I wanted to take a book from the restricted section. He signed the form, of course, thinking it was for an autograph. We made the bloody potion in Myrtle's bathroom, over a miserable, sodding toilet. I think it took a month, and the effects were certainly less time consuming. I had an inkling that her unfortunate week spent in Pomfrey's infirmary had a great deal to do with the potion that she, Potter and Weasley had illictly produced.

And you required Most Potente Potions to make this?, I asked, tapping the cover. She nodded, and ran her hand over it again, lightly brushing mine. Her skin was dry and hot. I closed my eyes, wishing she would leave and cause me no further distractions. A curl came unfurled from her considerably sized chignon. I inadvertantly reached up and ran it through my hands, enjoying the soft feeling of her tresses.

She gave me another pensive look before leaning in and kissing me. I closed my eyes, not opening my lips, not willingly granting her entrance. She pressed herself up against me, and I felt her soft form beneath her layered robes. I stiffened, and pushed her off. Not here, I whispered sharply, and her eyes flew open. She shrugged indifferently, and opened the book again. Tonight then, she said quietly, still staring intently at the page, .