Disclaimer: As you have most likely read many times before, I do not own it. These wonderful characters belong solely to Ms. Rowling, et al. Wishing they were mine is all I am able to do.

Hermione hoisted her bag up onto her shoulder as she shivered against the cold, rainy April morning. The moon hung high in the inky night sky as a church bell nearby tolled four. As she walked out of the train station, she turned left, and walked toward a row of taxis waiting just outside.

"Where ya 'headed to, marm?" the cab driver asked.

"472 Oliver Street."

"Oliver Street, eh? You're not a lady of the evening, are ya? The police 'ave been pickin' off us 'oo drive 'em 'round."

"No. I'm a chemist. It's rather a long story, but my train from Paris was delayed, so I couldn't catch the train here until late. It's all this rain!" she added, exasperatedly, as a large droplet hit her square on the nose.

"All righty then. Just needed to know." He loaded her bags into the back of the cab, closed the door behind Hermione as she sat down, took his own seat, and began to drive the dark city streets.

"You must not be from 'round 'ere," the cab-driver stated from the front-seat.

"No, I'm not. I went to boarding school not far from here, but I was raised near London. I've lived in America for the past ten years."

"I see. What made you leave?"

"My parents were dead, my husband and best friend had both just died. It was time to move on."

"You 'ad a 'usband ten years ago? You don't look a day over twenty-five," he remarked in a tone of disbelief. Hermione smiled.

"I'm twenty-nine, actually. We married right out of school. He was joining the military."

"And that's 'ow 'e died?"

"Yes. My best friend, too," she added quietly.

"If Britain held so many bad memories, why d'ya come back?"

"I've worked to develop a cure that will help a good friend here."

"I see… wait. You helped to develop the AIDS cure?" Hermione nodded as she failed to stifle a yawn. "I cannot believe me own ears! You're Doctor Granger. I'm a few weeks away from being HIV-negative."

"That's great. How is the treatment working for you?"

"It's been good, but the 'ardest thing is no sex for the past five months."

Hermione laughed. "I suppose that would be rather bad."

"It's worth it to 'ave my life back. I 'ope the cure works as well for your friend as it did for me. Oliver Street 472, you said? It's up there on the left. Is someone expecting you? This isn't the easiest neighbourhood to get around in."

Hermione nodded into the rear-view mirror. The cab pulled up to a curb poorly lit by a flickering street lamp a few feet away. After the cabbie waived off the fare, Hermione exited, took her bags, and found her way to Remus' apartment.

"Ms. Granger," said a voice from behind the door. "Our new celebrity."

"Don't scare the poor girl away, Severus. She has brought me my cure."

"Good … ah hell, I don't even know what time it is. Good something, Remus. Tonks." She nodded to them both as she stepped in the door.

"Is it raining hard out there?" Tonks asked, peering through the open door to the window in the hall.

"It's not too bad, actually. This is mostly from finding a taxi," she said, motioning to her hair.

"Good, good. I was planning on taking the kids out today, to let you do your work. I'm sure Severus here wants to hear all about the potion."

"Later, love," Remus announced. "Hermione looks dead on her feet. How long have you been up?"

"Not that long, really. It's what, eleven, in Washington? My flight took off about this time yesterday. Only about two days."

"Only two days!" I cannot believe you. Oh to be young again! Into bed with you, now," Tonks ordered.

And Hermione agreed.

Later that morning, Hermione awoke to find two brown-haired children watching her. She sat up, and smiled at the Lupin offspring.

"What are your names?" she asked.

"I've Kevin James Lupin and this is Reba Marie Lupin. She's two." His sister was the feminine version on Remus; she had a kind, caring face (or as much of a caring face as a two-year-old covered in some sticky substance could have), and brown hair. She was trailing a well-used blanket and bear behind her.

"I see," said Hermione as she got out of bed. "And how old are you, Kevin James Lupin?"

"I'm six," he said proudly.

"Six? Why, you'll start Hogwarts soon. You're practically all grown-up."

"Hermione, I'm sorry about them. I didn't know they weren't in their rooms," Remus admitted apologetically.

"'Salright," Hermione said, failing to stifle a yawn. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Just fine as one can be when these miscreants wake you up at five-thirty. Do you need anything?"

"If you'd be so kind, could you put on some coffee? I'll shower and set up in the kitchen."

"Sounds great." He turned to his children. "Come on, kiddos. Your mum's taking you to the zoo today." He guided them out of the room, closing the door behind them.

A half and hour later, Hermione, Remus, and Snape were seated in the kitchen, the anticipatory mood filling the small room.

"Remus, I must first warn you that what I am doing is highly illegal. As these potions have not been tested by the Ministry here, the importation of these potions is punishable by at least ten years in Azkaban. For appearances sake, you should Apparate to France later today. The potion is legal there."

"No problem."

"This cure is actually what is called a 'cocktail' treatment among Muggles. There are three potions you must take as quickly as possible. The first one rids you of the animal part of your brain, much as the Wolfsbane did. The second rids you of the transformation. The final potion causes the saliva from the bite to be dissolved, ending the disease permanently."

"Let's go," Remus said, a determined look on his face.

Hermione handed him the first potion, which he downed quickly. The second and third he finished in a similar manner.

"Could you have made these potions taste any fouler?" he asked.

"If you would rather remain a werewolf…" Hermione threatened.

"I'm off to France and then the zoo. As thankful as I am, I don't need a play-by-pay of the brewing. Thank you, Hermione." The former-werewolf hugged Hermione and planted a small kiss on her cheek.

As Remus Apparated away, Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee. "Ugh," she shuddered. "This coffee is what is foul. He never could make a decent cup."

"That he cannot, Ms. Granger. Though, I had always believed the Americans to enjoy coffee-flavoured water with numerous unnameable milk products."

"That's just Starbucks. In general, the coffee is not horrible. It is tea they cannot make. I longed for a hot tea the entire time I was in America."

Just then, the doorbell rang. "Remus probably forgot his keys. Again." Snape added exasperatedly. Hermione walked to the door, and opened it.

"Mione!"