A/N: Big thank you to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading! Now how about a little Remus POV.
When had Hermione Granger grown up from a precocious girl with overly large teeth and bushy hair into such a vixen?
This question was often on Remus Lupin's mind, and while he couldn't pinpoint the exact moment, he imagined the shift occurred sometime over the summer before the war really kicked off. Always a witch who knew exactly what she wanted out of life, it seemed as if she'd blossomed then, growing far lovelier, but also more mature in her behavior and attitude.
Remus was most frustrated over the fact that Hermione was completely oblivious to her looks and the way that they affected the men that lived with her at Grimmauld Place. Sirius could always be counted on to notice a witch's beauty, but Remus had caught Ron and even Harry with their eyes lingering on their best friend's arse more than once. It was an agonizing occurrence, because it inevitably meant that he would notice her arse, too.
And what a nice arse it was.
He had always enjoyed spending time talking to Hermione, even when she was a student. Her growing into her looks had nothing to do with his enjoying spending time with her. She was very intelligent and she had an amazing caring heart. Remus had also appreciated that she'd known his secret about being a werewolf and hadn't alerted anyone to the fact. Or maybe, he wasn't sure if he should appreciate that fact or be stunned by it. Werewolves are dangerous after all.
Now as of late, he enjoyed spending his time discussing Creatures Rights with her, seeing as they worked in the same Department. They barely had any overlap in their day to day work, but she could always be counted on to have a lively discussion over lunch or dinner. She was passionate about her beliefs and not willing to meekly back down in the cases that they disagreed over this or that, which was a refreshing change from his other colleagues.
But, since he was not the slightest bit immune to the effects that a pretty witch could have on a wizard, their talks were decidedly different now than they had been when she was at school. Remus would find himself staring at her bright brown eyes, pupils gone wide during their passionate debates. Other times, he would be enraptured by her perfect pink lips, parted while she listened to his arguments, wet tongue darting out once she was ready to speak. Or the dusting of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Hermione had grown into her hair, which was now lush and wild. Remus dreamed about tangling his hands in it, holding her just so he might be able to leave love bites up and down the pale column of her neck...
Godric, she wasn't even there and he was getting carried away with his fantasies of her!
He must have realized that Hermione was no longer a girl and instead a hot-blooded witch when he moved in with her at Grimmauld Place. It was then that he was forced to acknowledge her delicate curves and soft skin. It was agony when she would come down to breakfast wearing tiny pajama shorts or a white undershirt with no bra underneath, revealing the shadow of a dusty pink nipple through the thin cotton fabric.
Before long, every inch of the musty old townhouse had been coated in her scent. Remus couldn't pinpoint exactly how she smelled without getting very close to her, despite his slightly more sensitive lupine senses, but he'd picked up notes of honeysuckle, orange blossom and vanilla. Something that was distinctly her.
Despite how attracted he was to her, Remus knew that he shouldn't be.
Hermione was so young, barely twenty, and he was a shabby, old werewolf with absolutely nothing to offer her. She was sweet and naive. She deserved a young wizard who would take her out places and show her off...make her feel as special as she was. She needed someone who was well matched to her loveliness, not someone who could most charitably be described as looking ill for good stretches of the month.
He snorted to himself. Here he was convincing himself that he didn't deserve her - as if she would ever even agree to go out with him if he asked! She was far too kind to laugh in his face, but he knew he would hate to see the pity reflected in her brown eyes. She would agree to a single date, before thinking of some gentle way of letting him down.
Knowing that he had to nip this silly infatuation at the bud, Remus had stopped spending so much time with Hermione and instead focusing on spending time with his oldest friend, Sirius. He stopped dropping into the library, knowing that it would be far too painful to see Hermione, perched on the settee like a Queen, a book clutched tightly in her hand, lower lip worried by perfect white teeth.
No, he was not so masochistic as to subject himself to that willingly, knowing Hermione would haunt his dreams.
So that was how he found himself at the dingy corner pub, smushed into a booth with Sirius, Ron and Harry. His legs were really far too long, knees awkwardly bumping with the pair of young wizards again and again.
The quartet had already been through three rounds of whiskeys - the Muggle variety that Sirius preferred - to get the evening off to a roaring start, even though it was barely eight o'clock. It was enough to make Remus relax a bit, happy enough to laugh into his half-drunk pint at Ron's silly jokes.
They'd talked about Ron's latest conundrum with dating Lavender, before Sirius waxed poetic about a witch he used to date at Hogwarts and her unusual desire to hookup in public places. Honestly, that was a set of memories that Remus could do with forgetting entirely. They'd even managed to delicately navigate Harry's budding romance with Ginny Weasley - a very sore topic for her brother to be subjected to.
But somehow, they'd gotten onto the topic of Hermione and her antisocial tendencies. It seemed that her two friends could not fathom her wanting to be tucked away in the library reading, of all things, when she could be out enjoying life. They honestly believed that she was doomed to spinsterhood.
"Sure, she's a good looking witch!" Ron insisted, as though he needed to convince anyone. "But she gives books way more attention than she's ever given a bloke and she's going to end up alone."
"I don't know," Harry said. "Maybe she just didn't want to come out with us because she had other plans. Maybe she's on a date right now."
Remus cringed at the thought, but mercifully no one else at the table seemed to notice. Hermione? His Hermione on a date?
"Why don't we go find out right now?" Sirius proposed, with a smirk that should have tipped Remus off that he was up to something.
"Good idea!" Ron said, already pulling on his jacket. "I'll bet you a galleon that she's holed up in the library reading."
Before they could decide if it was actually a good idea or not to accost their friend, the four wizards were making the brisk walk back to Grimmauld Place, each one a bit more drunk than they had originally pegged themselves as being. When they got in the front door, Ron made a motion for the rest of them to be quiet, but the idea of sneaking up on Hermione Granger made Harry and Sirius erupt in a fit of giggles.
They crept up the stairs towards the library, seeming to step on every noisy floorboard on the way, before Ron dramatically pushed the door open with a flourish, as though he'd caught her red handed. "Ah ha! Just like I told you," he proclaimed, with a smirk. "Still reading!"
Hermione did not seem amused at his assessment of her choice of Friday night entertainment and sniffed at their glassy eyes and swaying bodies. "Yes Ronald, and just as I figured - drunk!" she countered, hotly. "You don't see me commenting on what you like to do during your evenings, so kindly do the same."
This made Harry and Ron laugh, but neither one contested her apt assessment. Her eyes dropped back to the book she'd been reading, her thumb still between the pages to hold her spot, but with the cover artfully hidden with a pillow so they wouldn't see what had captured her attention.
Harry and Ron might have been too drunk, but Sirius was sharp as ever and mischievous to boot. "I do wonder what book it is that has you so focused, Kitten..." he trailed off, planting a seed of doubt.
"What are you reading?" Harry asked, green eyes a bit unfocused.
She worried her lower lip. "Oh, I'm sure you'd find it quite dull," she said, a poor attempt at sounding nonchalant. "Just a bit of Scottish history."
Sirius slumped into the seat beside her, his grey eyes studying her face as her cheeks went pink under his scrutiny. "She's lying," he proclaimed to the group.
She gasped at being accused of such a thing, but Remus had watched her long enough to know that Sirius was right.
Ron slumped into the open settee opposite the pair, suddenly sleepy. A slow grin worked its way across his face, as a dangerous idea popped into his head. "Ooh, it's probably just one of those bodice rippers, like Mum always reads," he said with a chuckle.
Remus was completely ready to dismiss that out of hand, thinking she wouldn't bother with something like that, but then he hadn't been immune to the recent development her scent had taken when she was in the library. Lately there was always an undercurrent of sexuality - something that Moony had grown to appreciate. It wasn't overwhelming all the time, but it had been another reason for him to spend less time with her in the library, worried she might catch him panting over her like a dog.
Or worse, he might give into Moony's worst impulses and grab her and kiss her right there!
Could something as simple as a romance novel be the reason for her scent, he wondered? Perhaps Hermione craved male companionship a bit more than anyone had realized. Unbidden, his legs carried him to the settee to stand behind her, wondering if he could catch a hint of text from over her shoulder.
Sirius was practically purring into her ear when Remus was pulled out of his thoughts. "Come on, Kitten, there is no need to be embarrassed," he whispered. "Just tell us what you are reading."
She looked like a wounded doe, being circled by wolves, Remus mused. Eyes wide, she looked to Harry - the most reasonable of her friends - but he offered her no help. "I am not reading a bodice ripper!" she insisted.
"It's not a big deal," Sirius soothed. "Loads of witches read those and it's not like men don't have their sexual aids either. It's all perfectly natural. I'm sure that Harry and Ron have probably browsed through a Play Wizard or two and I certainly won't lie and pretend that I haven't. Hell, even Remus has been known to."
Hermione was growing more flushed and Remus was getting a first class seat in watching her blush spread down her neck and into her shirt. Before he could stop himself, his curiosity got the best of him. Remus reached his arm over the back of the settee and plucked her book right out of her lap.
She turned on him, eyes wide and worried when she caught him reading the title. "Give that back!" she demanded, grabbing the book and trying to yank it from his hands. "That's mine!"
But, the instant that her hands touched the book, Remus was overcome by a pulling sensation, not dissimilar to the feeling of a portkey. He barely had time to register that he was being pulled into the book and it seemed like Hermione was under the same thrall. In the blink of an eye, they were both gone, the book falling to the vacated settee.
Sirius was immediately intrigued by the title and its cover. "Ooh, The Viking's Maiden," he said with a lascivious grin. "I knew that Miss Granger was reading naughty books in the library!"
"But where did Hermione and Remus go?" Harry asked, taking off his glasses to make sure they were really gone.
Ron stood and picked up the book, examining it. "Oh, Mum has one of these," he said. "It's like a couples' book - you can go into it together and experience the story line. I think they will be there until they get to the end." He dropped the book on the small coffee table. "I wonder why Hermione would have one though? Maybe she didn't know?"
Harry found himself laughing. "I might not know the answer to that, but I do know one thing," he said, pausing for dramatic effect. "Remus and Hermione are going to have to...you know...do it," he added, cheeks pink at saying it out loud.
"Good," Sirius said after a beat. "I, for one, have found the sexual tension between our two favorite bookworms to be unbearable. Hopefully they can get over themselves now."
Ron looked a little bit green in the face once he understood the reality of the book. "Hermione? Sexual tension?" he asked, as though he couldn't understand why anyone would think of her that way, forgetting the fact that he'd been panting after her for several years.
"Ron, you are a dolt," Harry said with a snort.
"Well, firewhiskey, anyone?" Sirius asked, suddenly feeling quite cheerful about the events of the evening.