AN: Ahoy! First, I would like to thank Fool Moon and hye em yes for reviewing that last chapter. [Remus is an absolute doll, isn't he!?] Readers, the review button does not bite. ;) Unless of course Hagrid tampered with it....
Disclaimer: Do I have to keep doing these? Fine, fine. Pas mine, comprenez?
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Last Chapter: Gently he pushed Hermione up off of him, looking into her red eyes, "How about living with old Lupin for a bit?"
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Feeling her death-grip on Remus' waist being buffeted about, Hermione fully appreciated the Floo Network for the first time. Compared to Dust, Floo seemed like a ride on a kiddy carousel. She had long ago, or had it only been a few minutes, squeezed her eyes shut to the insane swirl of colors and buried her head into his chest.
Hermione could tell that Remus was not doing any better. The arm around her shoulder crushed down like a clamp. His continuing focus on her and the destination was not a task Hermione envied at the moment. She could only focus on her increasing nausea.
A few moments latter, Hermione's knotting stomach began to ease, as did the strange ringing in her ears. Her grasp on her human lifesaver loosened and the weight on her shoulders lifted. Daring a peek, Hermione felt relief to see the blur of colors coming to halt, forming various shapes and objects.
"Thank Merlin," she whispered into the older man's robes.
"You can say that again," Remus muttered.
Somehow Hermione and Remus were able to disentangle themselves from the slightly tight hold of the trip. Both flexed their fingers, glad to see them still functioning. Hermione rubbed her shoulder and found that bruising had already begun. Looking stricken, Remus profusely apologized and immediately asked if he could do anything.
A smile twitched at the corners of Hermione's mouth at Remus' reaction. If he weren't so seriously this kindhearted, that look on his face would have been funny, she thought. He continued looking slightly worried at her. I'm not going to fall about at any minute! She sighed at that reoccurring bitter voice that kept popping up. Oh...I must have hormonal schizophrenia...
"You could start sweeping," joked Hermione lamely.
"Only if you do the dusting," Remus quipped back.
The state of the room was no laughing matter. Hardwood flooring was in dire need of a good sweep and mop, as there were a few inches of grime on it. Cobwebs hung from the corners and in between the moth-eaten drapes. Dust covered everything in a think gray layer. Ghostly furniture hid beneath sheets, while the fireplace was black with soot.
"Let's see if the rest looks as well kept as the parlor," said Remus. He placed a hand on her elbow and lead Hermione toward a doorway on the left.
"We can only hope, can't we?"
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After finding a kitchen, dining room, bathroom, and laundry room in similar states, most hope had disappeared, along with the dissolving sunlight. Neither held out much optimism for the rooms on the second floor as they climbed, single file with Remus in the lead, up a flight of stairs to the right of the kitchen.
"How long has it been since your parents have lived here?" asked Hermione.
Remus ran his hand through his hair, thinking, "Mum was here last nearly thirteen years ago."
"What about your dad?"
"He left this house when I was six. I haven't seen him since."
Hermione noticed the dead sound in Remus' voice at the mention of his father. Glancing up at the sandy hair in front of her, she could only guess his dad must have left around the time he was bitten. Hermione frowned at the thought of Remus' being abandoned at such a young age over something he had no control over.
"And this is the second floor," said Remus breaking the silence.
He ushered her up onto the landing with a flourish of his arms. She took the arm he offered as if she were being escorted into a grand ball of sorts. All thoughts of Hermione's condition vaporized for the time being, while they began opening more doors.
"Oh," grinned Remus, "this was my room."
He pushed the squeaky door open to reveal a wooden four post bed, a desk, bookshelf with a few tattered volumes, and peeling wizarding posters.
"Very stylish," commented Hermione. "Doesn't look like it has changed much from your younger days."
"You say that like it was a while ago." Remus mock sad face did move Hermione to tears of laughter, instead of sorrow. "Mum didn't want to touch it, in case I decided to come back."
"Whatever happened to your mum? Is she living somewhere else now?" Hermione asked, bouncing slightly on the mattress.
Remus' face was no longer faking sadness, but had transformed into a truly somber visage. Hermione instantly regretted asking and mentally slapped herself for being nosey.
"No, she's passed on. It was awhile back. Some Muggle boys robbed the house, then shot her. Without her wand, she bled to death," he answered.
"Remus, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked..."
"It's okay. Really, it is! That was a long time ago." Remus smiled down at her sitting on the bare mattress. "So let's go see my mum's room and then you can pick which one you'd rather reside in."
They crossed the hall to a slightly bigger room with a similar bed though larger, bedside tables, vanity, and what Hermione thought was an adjoining bathroom. Much to her surprise when Remus opened the door to show her a walk-in closet. He murmured that his mum loved dress robes a bit too much.
"I think I'll take this room," Hermione said. "It's not like man needs a vanity anyway."
"And what am I going use when I get ready in the morning?" Remus teased. "Oh well, that means I get first choice for the bathroom."
He then pointed out the one and only bathroom at the end of the hall. Remus was relieved to find that the water still ran in the faucets and the toilet flushed; though it gurgled slightly. He noticed Hermione's reaction to the one bathroom but as usual she took it in stride. They would have to plan that out so nothing too embarrassing would happen.
Hermione fought back a yawn as they made their way back to "her" room. Nothing escaped Remus though, she was noticing. He glanced over at her, seemingly taking in her drooping eyes and slightly slack expression. After two months over being basically sedated, you'd think I'd be bouncing off the walls, Hermione thought.
"I think it's time you call it a night, Hermione," Remus said, glancing down at his watch. "It's nearly 9:30."
"Only 9:30," she raised an eyebrow, "feels much later. I shouldn't be this tired."
"With what you've been through, I'm surprised you've even stayed on your feet this long. You're a very strong woman, Hermione," Remus said the last part softly with slight reassuring squeeze on the arm. "And now I think you'd better rest up for all that dusting tomorrow."
Hermione couldn't help but smile at Remus, always heartening and good-natured. She leaned against the doorframe, letting Remus do a quick clean up of the room with his wand, even conjuring up a set of sheets that put themselves on. Of course, Hermione would have helped, but her wand was most likely still with Voldemort. She'd be getting it back one way or another.
"I think that's as clean as I'm going to get it tonight," Remus said, flicking away a few more dust bunnies.
"Thanks for doing it for me," Hermione replied.
"Anytime," he winked.
Folding back the covers, Hermione slipped between the sheets into the slightly warm bed. He must have put some charm on them, she thought sleepily. Remus bent down to give Hermione a quick peck on the forehead and pull the covers up higher.
As he was bent over, Remus asked, "Do you need me to stay or anything?"
Hermione, you're a big girl. "No, no. I'll be fine, honestly. You go on and get some sheets on your bed."
Reluctantly, Remus nodded and made his way out of the door. He looked back at Hermione's already tranquil face, listened to her breathing become steady, and closed the door. Leaving the room dark.