AN: Here's hoping there isn't a mutiny going on at the Beauty and the Beast camp. I posted this earlier but I went back over a few typos and added another paragraph, nothing big!
Disclaimer: Yeah…I'm secretly J. K. getting the HG/RL out of her system on Right.
Reviews: Danke to: JTBJAB, dubtheeunforgiven (The first of chap. 14 was my attempt at being poetic), TrinityDD, Aelimir (Is that right:D Characterization is the hardest thing when dealing with someone else's characters. Dialogue is the thing I stress about! The potions shall make a reappearance…), cdkobasiuk, zeusfluff/Maria, Gecko149 (It's all good.), Smiles28, Kyppie, and Ruby Malfoy (Feel free to add my story, I'd like that! Is it Voldie's? Hmmm…that is still a mystery… /cackles)
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Last Chapter: He was silently thanking whoever had invented the potions he took earlier as Hermione patted his hand. She said, "If there is anything I can do for you, Remus, I will."
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Hermione rummaged silently in the bathroom cupboard. Where did I put those? She pushed aside some miscellaneous bottles, getting on tiptoe in order to see into the very back. Ah hah! Triumphantly, she reached as far as she could and grabbed a box of Muggle band-aids.
She peeled off the backing and carefully wrapped it around her left index finger. The last band-aid had met an untimely demise during dishwashing last night. Her small paper cut probably did not still need medical attention, but the injury had bled a fairly good amount of time. Hermione looked at her bandaged finger. Who knew parchment was so dangerous? She hoped neither Harry nor Ron noticed the bit of it on their letter. It had barely been a drop when she put it in the envelope.
A return had yet to come, but Dumbledore had written that something had preoccupied them all and one would come soon. Her parents also had not responded to her letter. That was more understandable. Being Muggles, neither had knowledge about how to deal with owl post and Hermione had neglected in telling them. She sighed softly at the thought of her parents and friends. They still did not know. Mentally she shook that from her head, declaring to herself that bridge would be crossed eventually and she had a much more important one at the moment, Remus.
Leaving the bathroom, she stood out in front of his room for about the millionth time that morning. He had yet to come out or even show signs of stirring, much less signs of even being in the room. For the millionth time, she resisted the urge to break down the door. Last night, he asked her to not enter and she was going to honor that promise. The barriers on Hermione's side were down. The sun had barely risen before Hermione rushed to unlock the door.
She sifted from one foot to the other. Would it be noon before he came down? Her mind tried to reason with her. He knows what he is doing. He's been through this before and he'll get around as he has always done. Stop worrying! Feeling her resolve to keep her promise waning even after trying to whole-heartedly convince herself otherwise, Hermione shuffled to her room before she let herself do something she was not supposed to do.
Randomly, she picked up a book off her bedside table, planning to read to occupy her mind, and went down the stairs, avoiding a look at Remus' door. Hermione flopped down on the sofa. She glanced at the book's title, The Magic of Being Pregnant. She let out an angered sigh. I just had to pick one of these up didn't I, she thought. Might as well start where I left off.
She took out her bookmarker from about one-fourth of the way in. Barely reading half of the first page, her mind began to wander. It wandered back to the same thought that had plagued her all last night. Damn it, Remus, let somebody in for once. You don't have to be alone all the time. Hermione could only imagine what the next six months would be like if he continued persisting that.
Hermione redirected herself back to the book, but reading was futile at this point. Her eyes began to grow heavy, sleep had not come easy last night and she did not know at what time she finally dropped off. The eerie silence of the house plus a certain professor's words had helped keep her up, not to mention his contribution, the one he was certain could be of use. Bloody idiot, she thought sleepily, I didn't need your knife and I won't ever will. Just because you don't like Remus, doesn't mean that he'd…
She curled up on the couch, letting the book fall to the floor. …do any harm. Some guilt consumed her before she finally nodded off in sleep, because last night she had unlocked the drawer and stared mesmerized at the snakes on the dagger's handle until she felt they were looking accusingly back at her then had hastily shoved it back into its hiding spot.
Unlike the couch Hermione was laying on, the wood flooring of the upstairs was hard and smooth. Remus could feel the cold of it seeping into his body and he knew he had to get up. Shakily, he pressed his palms against the floor and tried to push himself up. For a moment he rose then, his arms gave out and he crashed back to the floor. He tried not to groan in case Hermione could her him, but he groggily remembered about his soundproofing spell. The incantation was a one-way deal. Remus, though not completely conscious, could hear her stopping, standing, and pacing outside his door. Thank Merlin she did not come in, he thought.
Remus did not need to see himself to know he was not in a presentable state. He did not want her to have an image of him in this condition. Breathing as deep as he could manage, he raised himself to his knees and used his bed to help stabilize him as he stood.
Achingly, he dressed, trying not to dwell on the new wounds that had appeared. Blood stood out on his desk's edge. He lifted a hand to touch his forehead, recalling last night. The brilliant red liquid stood out on his hand and he could fairly guess all over the gash he received. When the unrelenting seizures started, he usually moved away from the furniture in the room, but last night they had hit too fast without warning for him.
He tested his limbs before making his way toward the door. The swaying feeling had started to evaporate, though he still looked like a man just coming off a boat onto dry land. He swung the door open jerkily with a stiff arm. Remus grasped the doorway for support and glanced around the upper floor. No Hermione in sight, he proceeded to the bathroom, wanting to clean up, hoping to look more presentable, trying to hide what the monster did.
Upon entering the bathroom, he could immediately tell she had been in there recently. His wolf was still very much present and with the potions out of his system, his senses were running acutely. He looked into the mirror over the sink. His image reflected back one word, bloody, and in both meanings of it. A four-inch cut glared back at him from the mirror along with a few miscellaneous cuts and bruises that paled in comparison to that one.
The Muggle band-aids on the sink would be pointless for it, but he lingered on them. Hermione had used them. What for? his now pounding head pondered. He rubbed his temples, hoping for relief. Later he would wonder about that, right now he need to address his problem. Remus opened up the cupboard to the right of the mirror. He grasped two vials through his pained vision that appeared to be what he was looking for. Still unsteady, he watched them drop to the floor and he learned another lesson in Potions. Do not mix them.
Hermione jumped awake from a considerable boom. She sat bolt up right on the sofa, grasped her wand, and then took a quick look around. Nothing out of the ordinary. Quickly, she got up off the couch and nearly tripped over her book on the way to the stairs. "Remus?" she called out tentatively.
She heard a faint utter from above her.
For a woman in her condition and stature, Hermione made good time on the stairs, bounding up them with a burst of surprising speed. As soon as she step on the landing, she could see directly into the end room where a doubled over Remus sat.
"Dear lord, Remus. What happened? Are you all right?" she said advancing on the open doorway.
The sight did not look all right at all. A scorch mark stood out on the floor littered with bits of broken glass. Remus sat comatose on the edge of the tub, looking as though he had been knocked there. A huge cut stood out on his pale and bruised face.
"Oh…Remus," she whispered and walked toward him.
"The glass," he said hoarsely and pointed to the floor. "Don't step on the glass."
"It's okay." A quick repairing spell and the vials whipped back together and sat rolling on the floor. Hermione paid them no attention. She crouched down in front of Remus whose face hung toward the floor, eyes closed. "What happened?"
"Let's just say," he opened his eyes resignedly, "I'm not good at being a doctor."
She moved some stray hair away from his forehead. "That's a nasty cut, looks pretty deep. I'm not too good at being a doctor either, but I think I can mend it decently enough."
He tensed under her fleeting touch; such a feeling had become foreign to him. His body was already so stiff from the transformation and its lasting effects that it could barely be noticed. His throbbing mind recalled his resolution to keep her as much out of the full moon as possible. Mentally he called himself a fool for such thoughts. A snide voice from the back added, Can't hide your true nature, at least not from someone who's going to be around you all the time, can you? Inwardly, he growled, Get out of my head, Severus. Damn you, I'm trying to keep her away!
Remus, knowing that any attempt to keep Hermione out by this time would do more harm than good, only nodded to her. She looked him over one more time before gathering the vials on the floor. "Headache and antiseptic," she stated to herself, reading the labels. She carefully took two of the same from the cabinet plus a few more.
"Here," she handed the yellow one to him. "This will help with your headache."
After he had taken some, she assessed the cut. She poured the antiseptic on a cloth and pulled his face closer to her. "This is going to sting a bit," she said gently. Delicately, she started to wipe away the outer edges of the cut, working her way in. The farther she went, the more Remus grimaced. When she actually touched the cut, he let out a quick gasp of pained air.
Hermione drew back the rag. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"It's all right. Keep going," he replied. Her face once again took on the look of tender concentration as she continued. He was trying to look anywhere but at her. Never had anybody ever concerned themselves with him like this after a full moon.
"Now, I'm going to bandaged it up." She unwound some gauze from the cupboard along with some tape. As she worked on his bandage, she asked, "How's your head feeling?"
At this distance, she was overloading his senses, all he could see, hear, and smell. "I barely feel anything now."
She brightened at that. "That's good. Hopefully, my bandage will last until Madam Pomfrey comes. Last night, I got a message that she would be coming by in a week or so to check on me and I guess you, too now."
Hermione's eyes had widened at the mention of Pomfrey's visiting checkup. Remus caught her wrist as she moved to collect the materials off the floor. "You'll do fine," he said.
She nodded to herself. "I hope so." Hermione expression became contemplative a moment before she snapped back to what she was doing. "Here," she uncorked a different vial, "it's a strength potion. Only take a little or else you'll be taking off doors." He took a sip and then another at her prompting.
"Do you think you can stand now?"
He pushed off the tub and stood, but his knees were not yet up to par. They were starting to give way. Hermione swiftly got to his side to support him. "I'm putting you back to bed." She started to lead him toward his room.
"Doesn't look like I have a choice," said Remus, finally giving up and letting her help hold him up.
She opened his door. "You don't and don't even think about getting up anytime soon either. I've got a sleeping potion and I'm not afraid to use it."
Releasing him from her grip, she aided him sitting on the bed. She pulled back the sheets and comforter then watched as he laboriously slipped in. A dark stain on the edge of the desk grabbed her attention. "Is this where?" and she touched the corner of his bandage.
"Yeah," he said, trying to ignore the contact. "It got in the way last night."
A prod of the wand and the blood was gone. "I'll do something about the desk later. You need to rest." Another wave accompanied by a swish, the curtains drew closed, and the room became dim. Her darkened figure stood above, hesitantly. Then a warm hand touched his face, followed by a pair of lips on his forehead next to his wound. Her muted voice said into his ear, "Sleep well."
With that, Hermione hastily turned away to the door and left, leaving Remus to lay in the dark alone with his thoughts, not that any of them made much sense at the moment.