Author's Note: I apologize for the long wait, dear Readers. College has been slightly more demanding than I previously expected and I have had little if any time for myself these past couple months. I hope you'll forgive a poor, tired college girl. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please don't forget to review. Tell me your opinion; it's the only way I'll be able to improve!
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chunky Monkey-Chapter Four
By: Fidelius Charmer
Hermione groaned, grabbing a pillow to cover her head as she burrowed deeper into the covers. She had cried until the early morning hours, but eventually her loud sobs had diminished into wet sniffling and lots of nose wiping. Her head was throbbing from a powerful headache and she could swear she heard actual pounding. She paused, lying still underneath the covers and strained to listen to the noise. Hermione frowned once realizing that the loud pounding was not, as she had first thought, a symptom of her headache, but rather someone banging on her front door. She rolled over and glanced at the clock, her frown deepening. 'Who in their right mind would visit at four in the morning,' she thought as she got out of bed.
She stopped in front of a large mirror beside her dresser and gazed at her reflection; her hair was an unruly mass of curls sticking out at odd angles. She tried to run her fingers through it only to encounter various large knots that failed to comply with her attempts to tame them. She sighed and turned away from the mirror, shuffling over to the adjoining bathroom's door and grabbing the robe that was hanging behind it. She donned the robe as she shuffled down the hallway that lead to the entryway and walked quickly through the living room, desperately trying to ignore the memories that simmered to the surface of her mind.
She stood on tip-toe as she peered through the small peephole and gasped. 'What on earth is he doing here,' she thought as she unhooked the chain from the door and quickly unlocked it. She opened the door a crack and peered outside, staring at the man that stood before her. "Remus, what brings you here at this ungodly hour," she asked, opening the door slightly wider.
"Mind if I come in?" He asked; a pitiful, almost desperate look crossed over his countenance before disappearing. Hermione didn't reply, but stepped back from the door to allow him in. As he passed through the threshold, she closed the door silently behind him and locked it.
Remus stood nervously beside her, his hands toying with the frayed ends of his coat sleeves as he looked around her living room. She turned away from him and headed over to the kitchen. "Go ahead and hang up your coat. I'll set some water to boil," she said, walking through the swinging doors. She opened a cabinet and pulled out a large kettle, filling it with water from the sink before setting it on the stove to boil. "I'm afraid we don't have any lemons," she said, looking over at the empty fruit basket.
"That's alright; I'll just have mine with milk," Remus replied from the doorway.
"Right, well make yourself comfortable, it'll be a few minutes till it's ready," Hermione said, turning to face Remus who had entered through the swinging doors. She took a seat on one of the stools in front of the kitchen island and leaned on her elbows, staring at the werewolf as he took a seat beside her.
A few minutes passed in uncomfortable silence as they stared at each other, both uncertain about what to say to the other. The loud shriek that suddenly erupted from the kettle made both of them startle and look away from each other guiltily.
Hermione was the first to move, rising from her seat to grab a thick towel to remove the kettle from the stove and shutting it off. She procured two teacups and matching saucers from the cabinet beside the stove and set them aside. Grabbing the kettle, she carefully poured the hot water over a tea strainer containing her favorite blend of tea leaves and chamomile; watching it seep through into the teapot she had used the day before. Remus had quickly risen from his stool and shuffled over to the refrigerator, pulling out a small container of cream that he set on top of the island.
"Let's take this into the living room. I'm sure the couch will be much more comfortable," Hermione said, pulling out a small tray and placing the teacups, saucers, teapot, and cream onto it.
"I'll take that," Remus said, grabbing the tray and walking through the swinging doors with Hermione close behind. He set the tray carefully on an antique coffee table before plopping himself onto the couch with a loud sigh.
"So what brings you to my humble abode Professor Lupin," Hermione said, pouring the tea and cream.
"It's Remus, Hermione," he said,looking atHermione as she shrugged her shoulders while carefully stirring her steaming cup of tea.
Hermione cleared her throat and looked at the werewolf beside her. "Well then Remus, what brought you to my doorstep at four in the morning?"
"I ran into Oliver at the Leaky Cauldron. He told me what happe-"He quieted when Hermione made a silencing gesture. "Why should we not discuss this Hermione," he said, grasping her hands in his.
"I don't want to."
"He walked out on you," he said while absentmindedly stroking the top of her hand with his callused thumb.
"I pushed him away, Remus. I was a righteous bitch toward him," Hermione muttered.
Remus let go of Hermione's hands, instead wrapping his arms around her tiny figure and bringing her closer to him. Hermione sighed and leaned into Remus, resting her head on his shoulder and burrowing her face into the crook of his neck. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of woods and musk that belonged solely to him. "I didn't want him to go," her voiced hitched.
"But he did. He left you when you needed him most," Remus spoke into her hair.
"He did, but it's my fault. I said the most wretched things to him."
"You apologized?"
"Yes."
"Well why did he leave then?"
"To make a point, I guess," Hermione said, although her mind was whirling. Why did he leave? Was their relationship really that insignificant that he would just give up without attempting to make amends? "You know, you're right Remus! Why didn't Oliver try patching things up like a responsible adult?"
"Therein lies the question, Hermione dearest." A long silence followed as both were lost in their thoughts, sipping at their cooling cups of tea every so often. Remus was observing Hermione from the corner of his eye, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched her biting her lower lip. It was a habit she had whenever she was deep in thought or puzzling over a situation; something he thought adorable. He turned to regard her fully when she set her teacup and saucer down on the tray, setting his down as well. It appeared that the young witch had finally come to a decision.
"Oh, to hell with Oliver," Hermione suddenly exclaimed as she leaned back and captured the werewolf's lips in a passionate kiss. She felt a shock ripple through her when he returned her kiss, licking her upper lip to gain entrance to her mouth. She willingly obliged and opened up to his seeking tongue, moaning as their tongues met and sparred with each other. Pulling back, Hermione turned to straddle Remus and draped her arms around his neck. Remus placed his hands on her waist in return and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. "Why did you leave me Remus," Hermione whispered, looking deeply into his amber eyes. She saw regret and pain flash across them and leaned in to place a soft, tender kiss on his lips.
"Why would you want an old, tired man; a werewolf moreover, Hermione," Remus replied, his voice hoarse with emotion.
"You silly man, I wanted you. I loved you and you pushed me away."
"I thought you deserved better," Remus said, looking past Hermione. His eyes glazed as he remembered the feelings that had coursed through him at the sight of his Hermione and that foolish Quidditch playing nitwit, Oliver Wood together. "You moved on. You're with Oliver now," he said, staring at her again.
"Apparently he's moved on as well," she said, shrugging. "He had his chance, and now you have yours."
"Oliver loves you, Hermione."
Hermione leaned in closer to Remus, her lips mere centimeters away from his. "You love me too," she stated.
"Yes."
They kissed.