Disclaimer: Don't own HP.

Chapter 4

Hermione hadn't reacted well to Remus suggestion that he sacrifice himself for her sake. She'd been downright livid, actually. The conversation had ended with her screaming "I'll die before I let myself kill you. And what about Bella? If you're going to do this, do it for her, not for me. She wouldn't be haunted by your face, your eyes; by you, every moment of the rest of her life." After which she'd stormed out of the room, running until she found herself in the attic, not even caring if anything dangerous still resided there.

By the time she'd returned to the ground floor, not only had Dumbledore arrived, but an impromptu Order partial-meeting had been called. It was partial, as only about a fourth of the core members were able to attend. They'd decided to devote all available resources to finding a cure. Snape had been able to inform them that, since Ambell was muggle, they would be able to sedate her for the duration of the moon. He promised to attempt Wolfsbane alterations, but didn't think success a reasonable possibility, since there was so little time. He, of course, added in snide marks about having more warning, and what he could've done in three years' time.

As a back-up plan, Remus had re-stated his offer. Hermione had been unable to decline, at least not in the same fashion, in front of so many others. She didn't say yes, either, though.

That had been a full week ago. And it had been the longest week in Hermione's life, even including the first one she'd been conscious for, after being bitten. Then, at least, she'd been numb.

She'd been in here, hours, now, pacing. Contemplating the best way to kill herself, actually. Hermione felt it was Ambell's duty, according to their agreement. Bell, however, had declined, telling Hermione she was being selfish and foolish for throwing away the Remus' offer. The only thing Bella'd promised was that she wouldn't let anyone know of Hermione's intentions.

A knock at the door brought her from her morbid musings. "Hermione? I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I heard you pacing and…" Remus' voice drifted off. He was staring at her, as though he'd never seen her before.

Hermione flinched. The emotions coming from her had to be strong enough, just then, to render Legillimency unnecessary to any werewolf with a nose.

"Hermione?" He questioned. "Why are you…?"

"Because I can't do it again. Because I'm not that strong. Because I absolutely refuse to wake up, again, and fuel my nightmares for three more years. Because -"

"Hermione…"

"-I refuse to let you be killed, by my hand, not when there's another alternative. Because my life ended three years ago, and I've only been living on borrowed time. And because you're so nice, so even-tempered, so much like Mark, and he –"

"…Hermione…"

"-died, just like you will, and I refuse to be responsible. I refuse, do you hear me? I would be worse than dead anyways, living with your-"

"Hermione."

"-death on my conscience. And I'd only have to do it again in three years. And then who would it be? Would it be someone else I know, someone else I care for? Or will they just pull some random bloke off the -"

"Hermione."

"-street, for me to kill. It's not worth it, not one bit, I tell you, for three years' borrowed time. I deserve to die, anyways, to die a thousand times over, after I killed Mark. It's only just that-"

"HERMIONE!" Remus shouted her name. She fell silent, immediately.

"I am not the pathetic whelp you seem to think I am. I make this choice of my own volition. You, also, must make a choice, and I can not tell you what to choose. If you accept or deny what I have suggested, it will be for reasons of your own; I will not accept anything else."

"For reasons of my own? Professor, what do you mean? I'm a killer, I deserve to die. But, you, you're not. And I certainly do not wish to see you-"

Remus spun, "ENOUGH!" he roared. His hands grasped her shoulders, and shoved her forcefully against the wall. "As full as you are of your own superiority, you haven't even given thought to what might happen if you did not manage to thoroughly best and kill me."

He stared her straight in the eyes. "Perhaps you are right, perhaps; that remains to be decided. I am not doing this because the order told me to, or because of affection I have for Harry, or for whatever other reason you have imagined. I am doing this because I do not wish for your death. I also happen to think there is at least some chance of my survival."

"Professor, you've read the statistics, you know-"

"If you will let me finish." Remus ground out. "Should I survive this ordeal, it will mean a great many things in my life will change, very much for the better. You may choose to see this as risking my life for your own, and that is indeed a part of it. But do not think my motivations entirely pure and selfless. I am more than willing to risk my life solely for a chance to end this curse; I would take this risk for that chance alone."

He continued, more quietly. "If you have so soon forgotten, it is a chance that many others were willing to pay thousands upon thousands of galleons, everything they had, just to take."

Hermione stood, thinking, in silence; for once in her life finding herself speechless. The silence stretched, but it was not entirely uncomfortable. The determined stance and commanding mannerisms of the man before her were very much unlike the 'tranquil professor' Hermione had been accustomed to. Slowly, Hermione came to the realization that she truly didn't know her professor at all, and that things may be exactly as he said; he may well survive. After all, he'd had the will not only to silence her, but to win an argument with her; something few could claim.

Remus broke the silence. "Sickle for your thoughts?"

Hermione snorted "A sickle, professor?"

A corner of Remus' mouth twitched upwards in a half-smile. "I have no doubt your thoughts are far more weighty and valuable than a Knut could compensate for. And you should certainly call me Remus, considering. Even should you decide against this."

"Profess-" Hermione started, then rolled her eyes at herself "Remus. I … I still don't understand, what did you mean about 'my own reasons'. As you yourself said, it would be worth it simply to be 'rid' of the curse. And I have far less to risk in this than you."

"On the contrary, Hermione, you are risking far more than I am. I am only risking my life, you are risking living."

Quite suddenly, it dawned on Hermione what Remus was talking about. How had the book said it? Should they both survive the ritual…eternally bound to him, giving up will and even life should he wish it… personality may change entirely, becoming wholly subservient, according to how easily the she-wolf is bested… complete control, even over the wolf…driven mad, over simple insecurities…

"Oh" was all she responded. "I… do you… I don't…" Suddenly, she felt extremely awkward. As a question over life and death, it was simple. This, however, was far different. If he lived, she would be his mate. Not simply a wife, but a mate; soul-bound to love him, to feel as he felt, to put complete control of her life in his hands. She didn't know if she could handle turning over control like that, let alone being dominated in the way the book said.

She was afraid. Afraid of everything from the bond itself, to the physical repercussions. She'd never even had a boyfriend, and so much would suddenly be expected, required of her. She couldn't imagine she could satisfy his needs, and he couldn't possibly want her in that way. So, if she completed the bond, she would die anyways. He wouldn't love her, or want her, and she would know it, would always know it. Slowly, the wolf within her would torture her with the knowledge of her inadequacy, with her failure to make her mate love her. And then, when the wolf gave up on him ever caring, she would die.

It was no choice, really. If he won, she died, but that's exactly what she intended, anyhow. At least this way, no one would think the less of her for it. And now, she knew of Lupin's other reason. Now, she knew he wanted this for the chance at the cure, and she couldn't take that away from him. She almost laughed out loud, at the irony. Yes, she would attempt the bond, for Remus' sake. And, God save her, she was no longer certain who she wished would win.

She sighed, and found herself studying Remus, who had once again turned away from her, lost in his own thoughts. So noble, he looked, standing there, the warm rays of an early evening sun highlighting his form, making him seem to glow. She forced herself to consider what her life would be should he best her; focused her mind upon creating a reality where her former professor was her mate. Where a quiet scene, such as this, might be her mornings' greeting. She found, to her great amazement, that she enjoyed the idea; that such a world held much that she hoped for.

She paused in her musings. Did she truly know him well enough even to guess? What would he ask of her, as his mate? Would she have to quit school? Would he demand she keep house? Would he want children of her? She truly hoped he would not demand such things of her, but she knew he could, and that she, in such a case, would be only too happy to comply. She shuddered to think that she could be controlled so completely, wondering if there would be anything left of her, if forced into such obedience.

It was unimportant. She would not live so very long after the bonding, as for it to matter. Perhaps she would win; he would die, and she would be free for three years more. She tried to make herself hope that he would win. He would not love her, true, but they would both be free of the curse, one way or another. She sighed again. "Yes." She knew she needn't elaborate. She saw Remus turning back towards her, surprise evident, even below the iron control and fluid grace he always displayed.

What, and here she flushed, would it be like to sleep with him? This, if nothing else, would happen; certainly, were they both to survive. If they attempted the blood ritual in the book - and there was no reason not to try it - it would be less than a month from now. But what after that? She realized that she half looked forward to it. If for no other reason, than that she was likely to die soon after the bonding, and didn't wish to die without having even been touched.

She looked up, and locked gazes with Remus. Suddenly, she felt very, very inexperienced, and very much frightened of his touch. Surprise flickered across Remus' face, almost as though he'd read her thoughts… And that's when Hermione remembered he was a master Legillimens, and that he very likely just had. She flinched, blushing crimson, and turning away. Some thoughts are just not meant to be shared. Though she was very much glad that he hadn't caught her earlier musings. Better that he know of her insecurities, than discover her contemplating death.

It came as a surprise when a gentle hand brushed a lock of hair from her face, and tucked it behind her ear. A sigh that seemed soul-deep brought Hermione's gaze from a study of the carpet up to Lupin's face. His face seemed so different up close. So far removed from the mask of learned indifference he wore. And yet his expression was one she could not place, or even describe. She turned towards him, uncertainly.

"Hermione. I- there is no reason to be afr- no, that's not what I mean to say. There is every reason to be afraid, but not of me. I… that is the wolf… that is…" Remus was flustered, and it was almost… cute. He was… more approachable, this way.

"Remus?"

"There are a great many things I need to say, that we need to talk about, and there wouldn't be nearly enough time if we had a year. Forgive me, Hermione, but I must be blunt about many things I would rather say some other way. There simply isn't time to –"

"Just say whatever it is you need to."

Remus sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Firstly, I want you to know, that if this bond takes my life, I will not have you blaming yourself for it. Secondly, should this, should we, succeed, then… I will be a good mate, a good husband, to you, Hermione. No matter what the bond demands of you, or how it changes you. I won't be forcing you to spend the rest of your life locked in a house, slaving away to cook and clean for me, tending dozens of children."

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "You really thought me as horrid as that?" Remus locked gazes with her, chuckling. "If it comes to it, I'll /order/ you to read." Hermione joined in the laughter.

Remus turned serious. "And thirdly." He reached out, sliding an arm around her waist, and pulling her close. "I would like to teach you not to fear my touch." Hermione's brain shut down entirely, as Remus' lips brushed hers. It was almost like fire, the feeling that raced through her when they kissed.