Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter and Co. It seems that J.K. isn't as willing to sell her idea of Harry Potter on Ebay as I hoped she would. I still have my witty and weird mind to help me conjure up things even J.K. can't. It seems one can take pleasure in the simplest of things.
She forced the wheels in her brain to turn, to find an answer to this unexpected problem. And a problem it was. Lupin, her assistant? No; she couldn't have it. This sense of insecurity she somehow knew was a permanent situation. It was bad enough being around him some of the time, cowering down. But all of the time? No. Not a good idea.
But she couldn't reject this man. He had so often been rejected before, just for being what he was. Who was she to treat him with such disrespect and arrogance? How could she force him to become Hagrid's assistant or something else instead, lugging around heavy trunks of Quidditch gear? He had been a professor of the Dark Arts, after all. And a bloody good one, too.
"Well," she began, trying to figure out how to make him her assistant without ever having to see or speak with him.
Or his bright blue eyes.
"The fifth years took a quiz last Thursday, and as it's Sunday already and I haven't started grading them yet, I guess I could use some help there. You could grade those for me today."
He looked relieved.
"Let's get you started then, shall we?"
She awkwardly led the way down to the drafty, damp dungeons, Lupin gracefully trailing beside her, ever-ready to assist should she slip. Her private labs would be her primary residence for the day, so she intended to keep him in her office while she worked. He was too much a distraction.
Her office smelled faintly of a floral essence and… female hormones? How could she have missed that?
The slimy, eerie jars left by both Snape and Slughorn had been removed, their contents given to the House Elves to clean and dispose of. The once dark, wooden chairs were replaced with ones her mother had brightly painted. All green was removed and replaced with colors Hermione herself found comforting and appeasing. Green reminded her of soggy string beans and horrid bath soap that should never be sold to anyone.
Everything in the room was neat and orderly, just the way she liked it.
Locating a niche suitable, Hermione set up a desk for Lupin, gave him the quizzes and left him to his work. She retreated to her adjacent private labs and threw herself into her work. The salve she had mentally prepared earlier in her head began to take physical form beneath her hands, and as she worked Hermione couldn't help but stare back at the door leading to her precious office. For some odd reason, leaving Remus alone in it made her feel uncomfortable, as if letting him explore the depths of her soul uninvited. Her secrets, everything, would be revealed for him to see.
She also couldn't let him have the chance to demolish her office and 'mark his territory'.
Wait. Where did that come from?
But her reasoning left as soon as it appeared, and the instinctive emotional side of her took over. She was just about to storm angrily into her office, demand that Remus leave and go rot in hell for all she cared, when her wound began to throb painfully. It was as though it could comprehend her thoughts and took action to obey her unwanted conscience.
By the time the twinge finally subsided, her anger had abated and she reluctantly returned to her work, grumbling in the process. She was finding it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand. Something nagged at her; something was out of place. It was annoying her, like that Hufflepuff's perfume. Let's see, that ninny student crying… Remus being his usual comforting self… the wolfish grin and wink he gave her…
That's it! She had to start making Remus' Wolfsbane potion!
Making a mental note to start it as soon as possible, her thoughts returned to her own lotion in the making. Yet, still, something nagged at her. Had she forgotten something? She looked over the ingredients for the salve. No, everything was there. This plant to heal, that herb to cleanse…
Her wound.
Suddenly dozens of thoughts and questions began to pour out of her soul that she didn't even know she held. But one thought stood out among all of them.
Which beast had bitten her that night? The wolf or the werewolf?
If the wolf bit her, she'd be able to live, but if the werewolf had…
Dread crept up on her, fear and sorrow following. Why hadn't she thought of this before? It was so important and crucial! Stupid, stupid, stupid!
It would explain so much, she realized as she assembled herself with her crutches and began to race as quickly as she could to her office. Her personality and mood swings, her suddenly highly-screen senses. With ignorant gusto, Hermione threw her office doors open, not caring if Remus thought she'd lost her mind. It was already in a frail state; he probably wouldn't even notice if she completely lost it.
The unexpected intrusion, of course, startled Remus. So much so his movement knocked over the bottle of blue ink he was using to grade papers… directly into his lap. He jumped up, sputtering words Hermione wasn't sure were defined as words. Somehow that very sight abated her anger and made her want to throw a dictionary at him.
She dottily ignored him, humming a tune she made up as a child and used when she was searching dearly for something. Now she was searching for knowledge. Her expansive bookshelf loomed in front of her, texts of magical beasts entwined with those on potions, curses, history. Texts on centaurs, unicorns… werewolves.
She threw a few books to the floor, not caring if she hit Remus in the process. Her crutches painfully hit her underarms every time she crashed back down after the success of finding the right book. Once she'd located the significant ones, she charmed them from her feet back into her arms and, on a single crutch, charged out of her office. She was a witch on a mission.
As she rushed, she tried to skim through the books, verifying they contained key words or phrases she was searching for. She barely noticed Remus enter the room, his khakis still sporting his impromtu indigo patchwork. He watched her musingly as she threw book after unappealing book onto the floor after skimming it through.
"Hermione – are you…alright?" he ventured hesitantly. She jumped, obviously shocked at his presence. Her immediate reaction was instinctual - to protect her territory. The animalistic desire to growl at him was incredible, something she felt would scare him into backing off.
Before she could, though, a strange, new urge hit her once.
Oh, dear, when in Merlin's cursed name did he get so…shag-gable?
(AN: I dearly apologize for this word appearing into the story. It was inspired from my friend who says 'tap-able' instead. It's rather pathetic, but I find it very amusing.)
Hermionedearly wanted to rapt herself in the head with her books, hopefully knocking some sense back into her head. The only person who said 'shag-gable' was, sadly enough, Ginny. She used it in describing any above-average looking guy to whom she wanted to do bad things.
Very bad things.
Hermione inwardly cringed.
But, back to Remus….
Her mind wheeled, flip-flopped, turned upside down and other unimaginable things as she couldn't help but take a glance – oh, okay three – at his tall, lanky frame. When she began to find undernourished, weary men attractive, she didn't know, but at the moment she didn't care.
His hair was extremely light and fluffy, brown and oh-so touchable…
Wait… When did she find her friend, her ex-professor, attractive? And why did grey-flecked hair and enigmatic blue eyes suddenly illuminate sparks in her head, triggering something from a different and unnatural time she used to know and love?
"I have to go," she squeaked, afraid to say more. She rushed out of the dungeons, daring not to look back. Her odd behavior was surely noticed. Oh, she was in so much trouble. If Remus ever figured out how mentally ill she really was…
Remus stood still, frozen, like a wolf catching a distant, unfamiliar noise in a dark, unfamiliarforest. He was staring at the door, unsure of what he had just witnessed.
Did Hermione...just - admire his...body?
He blinked a few times trying to shove away the drowsiness overcoming him. The wolf in him was stirring on purpose; something had aroused its interest. He looked about himself and noticed the blue ink on his pants. That might have been why Hermione had looked at him the way she did.
He pulled out his wand and cleared the ink from his only non-patched up pants. There, that took care of that and the glances others were also bound to give him. But it did nothing for the curiosity that was unnaturally growing within. To quell it, he picked up one of the books Hermione had discarded.
The Magical Realm: Where Creatures of the Dark Roam
Funny title was all he could think of, considering Hermione's interests. He placed it neatly onto the table beside the boiling potion. He had too much to do to let mysteries steal his attention. (Plus, hewas sure that Hermione would have his head is he tried to tamper with her potion. She was the Potion'sMistress, after all.)He turned and made his way back to the office, a stack of fifth year papers awaiting his quill.
Hermione had almost violently excavated through rows upon rows of books, searching desperately for the right title with the right information. It seemed like she was asking for too much, like a male asking for a 30-something year old virgin to wed.
She needed the information she was seeking desperately. Her very livelihood, indeed, her very life, depended on it. So far nothing was helping, and by the look on Madam Pince's sallow face, Hermione knew she wouldn't be invited back in the library for tea or books anytime soon.
Frustrated and angry, Hermione cried out. First a whimper, then a groan, then a full-fledged shriek. She furiously threw herself down onto the carpeted rug of the Restricted Section. Sod all those who would think she wasgoing nutters! She had failed to find a book with the information she sought. It was unheard of. Her heart paced a thousand miles a minute and her frustration compelled her vent against something, anything.
She clenched her fists and angrily slammed them to the floor. The jarring brought her wound's pain back tenfold, increasing her agitation even more. She just couldn't win no matter how hard she tried to.
She dug her bruised palms into her burning, bloodshot eyes. Nothing was giving her a clue as to how to diagnose a werewolf, non-painfully and non-illegally, in its early stages. For all she knew, she could be one, a true creature of the darkest pits of children's nightmares and its own personal hell.
Hermione had to know. She needed to find out if she was a werewolf or simply suffering a wolf's wound. If she was the former… Well, she'd just have to figure out what to do. She could add herself to recipient end of her stores of Wolfsbane potion and suck it up.
Hopingto disappear undetected, Hermione retreated out of the library before she would have to replace the books in their dust-covered homes. Normally she would have done so happily, but at the moment she simply didn't feel up to it. She had other issues at the moment to handle, thank you.
A stubborn Gryffindor on a mission was not someone you would try to mess with.
A plan began to formulate in her head. As she maneuvered her way through the corridors brimming with students mourning the loss of their Saturday to horrible weather, she couldn't help but choke and gage at the outrageous scents. The place reeked of pheromones, cologne, sweet citrus, differing degrees of hygiene… She could even make out female hormone levels, where each was in the monthly cycle.
Once she made it to the Gryffindor Tower, she quietly thanked Merlin she was able to breathe again in the deserted entrance. She muttered the password ("Bouncing Tulip Bubs") and entered the peaceful, almost desolate common room. The fire crackled happily in the hearth,and the gloomy weather hung about the windows like a plague. The sheer joy that radiated from it all made Hermione smile.
Just as she was celebrating her newfound, momentary happiness, she noticed a second year boy playing a game of Wizard's Chess by himself. He directed the shining gold and silver pieces byhimself with not outside interference, all the while concentration shining on his face. He looked like Neville Longbottom before he met the ever-so black and scarcastic Professor Severus Snape.
She approached him slowly, startling him only when her crutch creaked ominously against the wooden floor. He shot up, fumbling for his wand. He nearly knocked his entire chess set to the floor.
"Mister Giddies, please calm yourself," Hermione barked, her reply harsher then she intended. She began to feel sheepish at realizing she was acting just like that bastard Snape when he tormented Neville. Was it that all inhabitants of the dungeons would turn nasty at some point in time? Or was it just the people who had bloody horrid hair? "It's only Professor Granger here. I need you to do me a...favor."
He looked up at her with wide eyes and gulped nervously. It seemed it wasn't the only time he was asked to do something that no one else dared to do.
A sheepish expression appeared on her face for scaring him. First that Hufflepuff, and now him?
"Tell me; is your chessboard real silver and gold?"
He looked at her first in confused alarm, then slightly bemused. She was eying pieces, many of whom were getting agitated at the delay in the game and were resorting to insulting each other like their barbaric nature intended them to.
She waited for him to reply, quickly glancing about the room to insure it was otherwise unoccupied. After a lengthy pause, he answered.
"Uh, yes, professor," he replied, meekness showing on his round face.
"Hand me that silver piece, please," she commanded, trying to keep her tone less harsh than before. He did as he was told, picking up a protesting silver pawn and dropping him into her open palm.
She trapped the pawn within the cage of her fingers, enjoying the sight of the piece squirming uncomfortably against her scarred flesh. She waited, her fear disappearing while the perspiration on her brow increased. The wait was nerve-wracking. She was still fearful that the tides might turn on her.
Just as she was about to throw the piece to the floor in jubilation, her skin bubbled. Pain like she'd never before experienced coursed from her palms up her arm, and she shrieked out in absolute fear and pain.
In retaliation, she threw the piece into the fire, watching with sick satisfaction as the flames licked it to its satisfying death. Her hand burned as though she'd stuck it instead into the hearth, too. The skin that once bubbled calmed down but left a strange burnt mark in the shape of the once struggling pawn.
The perspiration on her forehead swam across her skin, falling towards the ground that seemed to be shaking before her. Her head became dizzy, and everything seemed to float around her.
She was a werewolf.
"Professor Granger?" a timid voice squeaked, startling her from her shock. She rested her lazy, brown eyes onto the scared, petite boy hiding behind a large chair.
She barely registered her own voice as she answered. "Don't – don't you dare repeat what you've seen. It's between you and me, understand?"
She struggled for her breath, hoping she'd convinced him. By the look on the boy's face, she had.
"One word, just one, of what you saw, and I'll be on you like an starving wolf."
As she inwardly flinched at the simile she used, he gulped and nodded, squeaking when she groaned out in pain. She felt her whole hand grow numb from the draining experience. She desperately gripped her crutch, and after several tries to calm herself, started out of the room. She hoped that the new knowledge she obtained would turn out to be as positive as informative.
She could only pray so.
Well, there are actually 5 parts to this. This was Part 2, along with Chapter 2, but my beta and I decided to split it up instead.
Ah, I really have nothing to put in here...but I would like to say that the Remus/Hermione romance will come at the last chapter of this story. I thought I'd say that now before someone asks me.
And, Hermione's a werewolf! Yeah, it's finally brought out even though I know all of you already knew that...
But anyway, review please!