A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Huge thank you to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter! You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
Please let me know what you thought about chapter eleven and be on the lookout for chapter twelve soon.
Remus could not spare an ounce of energy to think about the fact that he'd ostensibly killed his former friend, even if it was just in the confines of this imaginary world. In fact, he did not even spare Peter Pettigrew a second glance where he lay on the ground, in a bright red puddle of blood. Instead, his mind was only whirring with thoughts of Hermione.
Kneeling down at her side, he worked to quickly undo the rope that was binding her ankles and wrists together. "Are you okay, Hermione?" he asked, more than a little bit disturbed by the attention that Peter had paid her. "He didn't...hurt you did he?"
Hermione rewarded him with a huge smile, obviously pleased that he'd come to rescue her. "Yeah, I'm fine. He didn't try anything," she said, softly. Her eyes dipped to her lap, bashful. "Thank you for coming after me."
His own eyes suddenly found the rope in his hands, unable to look her in the eyes. He scoffed. "Well, I couldn't just let him take you from me," he said, quietly, before cursing his own traitorous words. He hoped that she didn't pick up on the significance of what he'd let slip. It wasn't as if he was trying to imply any ownership over her or that they were together. "I mean, I'm sorry, I should have been paying better attention to you. It wasn't right to just go off with Sirius without telling you."
When she was finally free, he offered her a hand to help her stand, only to wince from the wound on his side. He pressed his hand against it, cursing Peter for stabbing him.
"Oh Remus! You're hurt!" Hermione said, pressing her own hand on top of his, unbothered when his blood got on her as well.
He set his jaw tightly, before walking over to Pettigrew's body. Grabbing the hilt of his sword, he pulled it from the felled man's body, trying not to wince to alert her of the pain that radiated from his side. "I will live until we can get back to the city. If we hurry we might make it back by daybreak," he suggested, peeking at her from the corner of his eye. "He took you on a roundabout path, presumably so that I wouldn't be able to track you, but it's a pretty straight shot."
Hermione bit her lower lip, thinking over his assurance. "I don't like the idea of you being in pain the whole way," she said.
"Well, there isn't much we can do for it here," Remus argued, seeing as they didn't have anything to clean it with in the small, dank cave.
"Okay, but you have to let me look at it when we get back," she insisted, before following him out of the cavern to where his horse was waiting for them. Pulling herself up, she got in front, before Remus found his place in the saddle behind her. He kept one hand pressed tightly against his wound, while the other hand reached around Hermione to grab the reins.
He kept the pace relatively moderate, wanting to get back into the safety of the city walls, but not wanting to exacerbate his injury more than necessary. By the time that they made it through the gate, the first pink rays of sunshine were peeking over the horizon. Remus was bone tired, but he still managed to send for a messenger to call back Sirius and the rest of their warriors as well as a stable hand to care for the tired horse.
He had hoped that Hermione would have forgotten the promise to look at his wound, but it seemed she had not. She spun to face him before pushing him in the great house, up the stairs to his room. She asked a maid for some clean water and some strips of fabric for cleaning and dressing.
Once they were alone, he dropped his heavy sword by the door and rubbed a hand over his face. Merlin, he just wanted to sleep. But, in his real bed back at Grimmauld Place, where he was alone and not tempted every second.
"Oh dear," she murmured, when she lifted his arm to reveal his wound. His shirt had dried to a dark brown sort of color, completely adhered to the wound. Standing in front of him, her fingers found the bottom of his shirt and tried to pull it from his pants.
His large hands immediately shot out to grab hers tightly, stopping her progress. "What are you doing?" he demanded. He didn't think he could stand the exquisite agony of Hermione undressing him.
"I am going to get a look at your wound, Remus. I want - I need to make sure that you are okay," she answered, insistently, unafraid to meet his heavy, green gaze.
Remus studied her closely for a few beats of silence, before eventually releasing her hands. She gently lifted the fabric, prying it away from the cut. He hissed from the pain, but didn't stop her.
She apologized softly, before ordering him about. "Go lie on the bed." She collected the bowl of water and returned to his side swiftly.
He decided that arguing with the stubborn witch would be futile and laid down on the bed, his dirty fingers finding the edge of the cut again. He started down his abdomen, examining the wound with fascination. "It's just a superficial cut, Hermione. I think I will be okay," he said, surprised that everything essential had been missed.
"I'll be the judge of that," she said in that stern way that she usually reserved for Harry and Ron. She sat on the bed next to him, the mattress dipping slightly, filling Remus's mind with dangerous thoughts. She was so close to him, to his bare skin. She shoved the fabric of his shirt up further and let her fingers ghost over his abdomen. It felt too heavenly, such exquisite agony. He was afraid that he might reach out and grab her and -
"It might be easier if you just remove the shirt all together," she suggested, with a blush on her cheeks.
The werewolf decided that he must be some sort of masochist, to be giving into her suggestion like he did, but he couldn't stop himself from sitting up and pulling the fabric up over his head, leaving his chest completely bare to her eyes. Was he hallucinating or had her eyes widened at the sight of him spread out before her? Had her breathing quickened with excitement?
He leaned back against the pillows, staring at her face. Yes, he decided, looking at her plump lips, parted slightly. She shifted a bit and the scent of her desire consumed him, flooding his senses. She smelled delicious and he was reminded why he'd left with Sirius the day before. It was hard not to do something silly when she was all around him like this, when he was unable to focus on anything but her.
Hermione reached out hesitantly, holding onto a dampened cloth, and began to blot away the blood that had dried around his wound. The muscles of his abdomen bunched and tensed at even the slightest touch and he watched as her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip. While he knew he was no Adonis, he also hadn't been afflicted by a certain sort of flabbiness that wizards of a certain age were prone to acquire.
She stilled for the briefest moment as though she were distracted by his physique, like a deer caught in headlights. He felt the wolf in him - a predator at heart - picking up on her each and every miniscule movement. He wondered if she could sense the danger lurking under the surface and if it frightened her.
Then, she caught herself and turned her attention back to the task at hand. Once the blood had all been lovingly wiped from his skin, she inspected the cut. "It really does seem rather shallow," she said, sounding relieved. "In fact, I think that you've stopped bleeding and already started healing."
"I suppose I have lycanthropy to thank for that," he whispered.
She still did not remove her hands from his skin. He watched her lips part and close several times as though she were trying to come up with something to say. She was steeling herself for an argument, and he dreaded to think about what it was. Remus felt as if he was just barely in control, his will completely torn to shreds. Her gaze drifted up his chest, until she was looking him in the eyes, her pupils dilated in the low light of the room.
His eyes were once again captured by her lips, as she caught the lower one between her teeth. How he longed to sooth the hurt with his own tongue. His mouth went dry when he realized that she was leaning forward, pressing her hands against the furs of the bed, until she was on her hands and knees, hovering above him. "I think that this is the part of the book where..." she trailed off, before gathering her courage. "Where you ravish me."
A hint of a smile appeared on her face, before she let her eyes flutter shut. Pressing forward, she attempted to kiss him.
Remus turned his head away at the last second though it took every last ounce of his resolve to rebuff her. He tried to sit up and put some distance between them. "Hermione, hold on," he said with a frown. "You clearly aren't thinking clearly."
"Don't tell me what I am thinking," she snapped back, obviously hurt at the suggestion that she didn't know her own thoughts and perhaps at the rejection as well.
But didn't she see that he was trying to do the right thing. "I won't take advantage of you, just because we are trapped in this bloody book!" he insisted, just as vehemently. "I've been thinking a lot about it and I think there are other ways outside of-"
This time, Hermione did not give him a chance to weasel out of the kiss. She kept her gaze on him and dipped her head, pressing her lips to his in what was a rather chaste kiss. At first, he managed not to respond to the feel, but eventually he could hold back no longer. There was only so much he could be expected to tolerate before he could no longer set aside his own feelings. With a shuddering sigh, he deepened the kiss, feeling his lips fit against hers perfectly.
She pulled away before things could get too carried away and rewarded him with a shy smile. "You wouldn't be taking advantage of me, Remus," she said, earnestly. "I want this."
Godric, the words were magic to his ears. He felt his heart stutter and skip a beat when he realized just how much he'd longed for this. He brought up a hand to cup her jaw, his thumb reaching up to run over her full bottom lip. He knew that they should talk this all through first, but he didn't think he could help himself.
Just as he was about to lean in and kiss her once again, there was a commotion in the hall outside. It sounded a bit like fighting, the clanking of metal against metal making its way up the stairs. On the other side of the door, he heard Sirius's panicked voice.
"I told you, you can't go in there!" Sirius barked. "The Jarl is busy."
But whoever he was trying to stop could not be persuaded and they heard Sirius yelp as he was shoved aside. Not a moment later, the door was kicked open and Gilderoy bloody Lockhart spilled into the room, a shocked gasp leaving his lips.
"Princess!" he said, dropping to one knee, dramatically. Then his eyes widened at Remus's state of relative undress. "He's dishonored you. I promise that we will not let this - this indignity stand!"