So this isn't all the way canon-friendly. Instead of Snape teaching DADA in the sixth year, Dumbledore asks Remus back to teach again. It's not a huge plot point….largely because this is 100% unabashed, wish-fulfillment fluff so if you're seeking a story with lots of plot you're probably looking in the wrong direction anyway.

HOWEVER, if you're into fluff fluff fluffity fluff with no delayed gratification and no apologies….hop on in.

Important note: this is definitely teacher-student, but it's marriage law and Hermione is of age…and married by the time anything happens, for that matter. I wanted to warn everyone so we checked all the right kink boxes and avoided any squicky landmines.

Recommended listening is Remember When It Rained by Josh Groban. If you can get the climax of the song to line up with the climax of the story... *chef's kiss*


"A marriage law?"

Hermione hated the way her voice quivered. Every time she encountered another crazy, ridiculous event in the wizarding world she promised herself she would handle it smoothly, calmly, without letting show just how ridiculous and unbelievable she found it. Possessed teachers, giant talking spiders, a snake that killed with its eyes, dementors, blood quills, she felt she had taken it all pretty well in stride, but every time it still threw her for a loop. And now, turning 17 at the beginning of her sixth year was proving to be a majestically horrible idea (because she had so much control over the age of majority in the wizarding world).

"Do I have any say in to whom I am to be married?"

There, that was much calmer. Professor McGonagall's face didn't seem that convinced. Damn.

"It would appear they are targeting muggle-borns specifically. You have a week to marry a pure-blood or half-blood wizard who is of age or you will be automatically assigned to a husband. In the current political climate, Albus and I think the odds of you being placed with a Death Eater are unacceptably high, so we'll do everything we can to get your marriage sorted within the week. Now, under normal circumstances, I would bring out the roster of seventh-year students or recent graduates and begin a process of elimination…"

Hermione felt a cool wave of dread drop into her stomach.

"...but given your proximity to Mister Potter no the brewing war I hate to tell you that Professor Dumbledore is, well, characteristically adamant that you need to be paired with an Order member."

Hermione tried to control her reaction as the dread was suddenly and instantly chased away by a wave of what felt like Aragog-sized butterflies. She tried to force herself to listen as the elder witch continued.

"I know this is a difficult thing to ask of you, but are there any of age, male Order members that you—"

"Professor Lupin!" Hermione felt herself blush, to her toes it seemed, as Professor McGonagall peered skeptically at her over the rims of her glasses.

"That is to say, Professor Lupin is the only male member of the order I've really had any significant interaction with…well other than Professor Dumbledore himself, and I'd prefer to marry someone I actually know…and, well, age-wise it seems like a much more logical fit than Professor Dumbledore at least."

She finished with a poorly-stifled huff of embarrassment as Professor McGonagall's piercing gaze had yet to return back above the tops of her spectacles. Nevertheless, the Scottish witch agreed.

"I had come to similar conclusions in my assumptions of whom you would pick, but I of course wanted to give you as much agency as possible in the matter."

The elder witch rolled up her parchment and began to stand, patting unseen wrinkles out of her robes as she rose.

"I shall inform the headmaster and Professor Lupin of your choice. Meet me in the headmaster's office tomorrow at noon for your, well, your wedding," she took a deep breath, reassuring Hermione somewhat that she too felt the situation at least a small bit unusual.

"It will all be alright, Miss Granger," the stoic witch stated with kind eyes, "Remus is a good man. I think you'll be very well suited to each other, all things considered."

Hermione let herself be led to the doorway of Professor McGonagall's office in a daze and didn't allow herself any kind of reaction until she heard the door click shut behind her. She then allowed all the blood to rush to her cheeks, hiding her face in her shaking hands, as the butterflies in her stomach made such a riot that she almost doubled over forwards.

To say Hermione was nurturing a bit of a crush on one Professor Remus Lupin would be like saying the acromantula in the forest had slight misbehavior issues. In her third year she had simply appreciated him for what he was: the first competent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor they'd ever had. However, after Dumbledore had persuaded the shy werewolf to come back and teach again for Harry and Hermione's sixth year….let's just say she had had a much harder time keeping her thoughts in check.

It started with the innocent (yet unyielding) badgering for extra time, tutelage, and reading materials to which all of Hermione's professors were quite used to being subjected. However, there was something about Harry's personal connection to Professor Lupin, the fact that Hermione knew about his 'furry little problem', or the fact that he was, at heart, an intellectual like Hermione who had been isolated and starved of cognitive companionship and erudite conversation for so long.

While no lines of impropriety had ever been crossed (neither Hermione nor the timid professor who occupied far too many of her waking thoughts would ever have tolerated the sullying of a teacher-student relationship), there was clearly something just more about their relationship. She would come to his office for regular office hours (which no one but Hermione ever bothered to attend) and they would debate for hours on the fine points of a diffindo versus a reducto in a combat scenario. He would lend her books out of his personal library to help her with a research paper, ask her a brief question about it after class, and they would both find themselves late to dinner after having gotten lost in a discussion about a noteworthy chapter or footnote. He began offering her tea when she came to his office for extra help, and she made a habit of leaving chocolate bars on his desk with her essays when they had things due near a full moon.

Hermione was positive he was only enamored of her sizeable brain (or her undeniable work ethic in a sea of students who were fine to coast by with zero effort and a passing grade), but with every witty point he made, every time his eyes flashed from green to amber when she was able to successfully rebut one of his points, the way he gave her secretive little smiles during his lectures when he mentioned something related to a subject they had discussed together…she knew she had fallen for the sandy-haired professor in a big way.

At first she tried to fight it, back at the beginning of the year when she first noticed her feelings starting to creep across the line of what would most likely be deemed "acceptable", but after a week of starving herself of his intellectual companionship, she decided to rationalize it away under the justification that there was no way his feelings for her were anything but those of a teacher for their overachieving student. Well, there were times when she would catch an undecipherable look cross his face or meet his eyes one too many times to be completely by chance while eating in the great hall…but no, there was no way he could ever feel anything but respect and professorial pride in her. No, that was just not how anyone saw a frizzy-haired bookworm like her, not to mention him. So as long as she kept her inappropriate feelings away from the realm of actual actions…well no one needed to be any the wiser about what was going on in her head.

…and then the marriage law.

She almost couldn't believe what was happening when Professor McGonagall had first called her into her office. She shuttered to recall the feeling of icy dread at the idea of going through lists of seventh-year students for an acceptable candidate. There was no chance of her feeling anything but mild annoyance towards any of the boys currently at Hogwarts. (She had six years of anecdotal evidence to prove that posited theorem as undeniable fact.) But Merlin himself it seems had smiled upon her in the form of Albus Dumbledore and his intrusively-controlling safety measures. Warranted or not, the perceived need to keep her away from a forced marriage to a Death Eater had plunged her into the strangest wizarding world situation she had yet to encounter.

And for once, Hermione thought as she floated back to Gryffindor tower, she didn't mind it in the slightest. Thank Merlin.


In a comically familiar arrangement to what she had just encountered with her younger student, Minerva McGonagall found herself seated facing another former student and explaining just how badly his life was about to be upended. However, it looked like Remus Lupin wasn't going to be as easy to deal with as Miss Granger had been only moments ago.

"Of course he has a plan, Minerva. Why would I think anything else? So tell me…which strategically-placed ministry employee am I to wed for the sake of keeping tabs on You Know Who? Hopefully they work in the DRCMC so we can really milk all the possible irony out of the situ-"

"Remus, get ahold of yourself!"

Professor or not, upon hearing the Scottish woman's stern rapprochement, Remus Lupin reacted with the conditioned response shared by all former pupils of McGonagall's: immediate silence halted his speech mid-tirade, instead placing an abashed look on his face.

"Are you quite finished?" She peered at him pointedly over the rims of her glasses.

"Yes Professor," he intoned with some genuine remorse but also a hint of genuine Marauder cheek. It would have made Sirius proud but only elicited a fond eye roll from the stern witch in front of him.

"Good," she stated matter of factly. "You will not be married to anyone within the ministry. Dumbledore has actually requested your help with a matter far closer to home."

Remus tilted his head inquisitively, silently urging the witch on.

"You will marry Hermione Granger. Noon tomorrow in Dumbledore's office. She has been of age since September and, due to her relationship with Potter, has quite the target painted on her back. We need to keep her safe."

For a solid moment, Remus Lupin looked like he had been petrified in place where he sat. There was no righteous outrage at having to marry a student, no blustering denial, no suggestions that the young witch should be placed with someone more suitable…none of the responses the stern Scottish witch had prepared to face given her lengthy history with the humble-to-a-fault, self-flagellating werewolf. In fact, if it weren't for racing heartbeat she could hear due to the increased hearing from her feline animagus form, Professor McGonagall would have feared he was having a cardiac episode, for he had definitely stopped breathing entirely.

"Remus?" she asked, curiosity bordering on genuine concern.

At the sound of her voice, the professor's green eyes sharpened with a single jerk and widened exponentially. His expression quickly turned from blank terror to a mix of extreme fear and what could have passed for acute guilt and, much to the amusement of the witch before him, the sudden rush of blood to his cheeks was visible even to those without animagus abilities.

"Hermione?" the werewolf managed to croak out, his voice sounding as if he hadn't used it in months.

The almost comical combination of emotions was too much for even the hardened and stoic professor, who promptly burst into a fit of what he would later describe as very unladylike laughter, which only seemed to heighten the sandy-haired wizard's already-salient levels of worry.

"Minerva, no…you have to understand…I don't…I mean I haven't…I would never…shite.." he trailed off helplessly amidst a sea of half-finished denials. This seemed to break the elder witch out of her laughter long enough to gather breath for a response.

"Remus John Lupin, do shut your mouth."

He did so with an almost audible snap.

"I have known you for the better part of two decades now. I was the one who looked the other way when James and Sirius didn't think enough of your prefect status to stop charming the gargoyles to sing muggle pop music whenever the headmaster walked by. Do you honestly think I can't tell the difference in your face when you've actually done something wrong and when you forced yourself to toe the line even though you desperately wanted not to?"

The blood now disappeared from his cheeks, leaving him pale as the wide-eyed, sproklose silence he emitted was enough to prompt another snorted huff of amusement from the witch sitting in front of him.

"You were one of the brightest students in your year, Remus. You had two troublemakers as friends and made it your duty to take care of them, keeping them safe, remaining loyal to them, often to a fault, even though I could have sworn you would have quite happily substituted books for any and all social interaction. You had tremendous potential and probably could have worked anywhere you wanted if it weren't for a perceived issue with something in your blood, over which you had absolutely no control. This has led to you living a remarkably solitary and lonely existence despite the fact that you are far above-average in the looks, personality, and amiability scales."

His eyes widened again as he realized what the elder witch was saying.

"I know you would never lay a hand on a student. You're an honorable man, Remus. However, if you haven't put together the similarities between you and Miss Granger then you would simply not be the intelligent man we both know you are."

His mouth opened and closed several times, yet no sound emerged. He finally managed to string a few words together, voice still sounding hoarse and stunned.

"What…do I do, Minerva?"

"The fates seem to have thrown you a bone in this highly unusual instance. Be happy. Make her happy. It seems to be the one skill neither of you have yet mastered. Maybe you can work on it together."

She stood with a small smile and dusted off her robes as she moved towards the exit.

"What about Hermione? Is she alright with this?"

His voice stopped her at the door, his kind eyes visibly drowning in a torrent of unfamiliar emotions, insecurity, fear, and hope clearly recognizable among them.

"She asked for you, Remus. Before the question had even left my mouth she all but shouted your name."

A resolute nod and the stoic witch was gone, leaving a very confused werewolf alone with a torrent of his own thoughts.


The wedding was short, brief, and to the point. Hermione couldn't tell whether she was relieved or disappointed that wizarding bonding ceremonies didn't involve the usual 'you may now kiss the bride' portion so heavily featured in muggle ceremonies. Before either of them could really cognize it, they were back in his quarters, her things packed into her trunk and sitting in a neat pile in the corner, having been transported by elf during the ceremony. Standing across the room from each other, the awkward silence seemed almost sentient as they appeared to realize simultaneously just how alone they were.

"I'm so sorry that-"

"I know you probably wish you hadn't-"

They both spoke simultaneously, neither finishing their sentence before realizing what had happened and trailing off into quiet, very nervous laughter.

"You go…sorry," Hermione said, blushing prettily. If she'd had the nerve to raise her eyes to look at her new husband's face she would have seen a matching blush staining his cheeks as well.

"Okay, well, I just wanted to apologize. I know a beautiful young woman such as yourself-"

"You think I'm beautiful?"

Her insecurity rendered her interruption into a desperate almost whisper. At his initial silence, she looked up and did see the blush this time. Instead of wading into the perilous verbal waters in which lay the answer to her question, he simply nodded and tried to continue his thought.

"I know this probably isn't the way you dreamed your marriage would happen and I just wanted to say how sorry I-"

"I wanted it to be you." This time her insecurity had lost out to her anxiety, making it so that she almost shouted her interruption at him. She looked immediately chastised but seemed to have realized she was past the point of no return and squared her shoulders before continuing on.

"I wanted it to be you. The second Profesor McGonagall told me about the law…Merlin, I didn't even need a law to want you. I know this is probably immensely uncomfortable for you to hear, but I can't imagine it has escaped your attention that I've been fighting off a massive crush on you for years, and…I'm so sorry to be excited by something that's going to ruin the lives of countless people, possibly you included, but I just can't stop thinking how lucky I am and I know I've made this incredibly awkward for you and now I guess I'll just stop rambling and possibly go crawl into the floorboards and wait for the merciful death from embarrassment that should be coming any minute now."

In his 34 years of life, Remus Lupin had never seen anything cuter or more attractive than a flustered Hermione Granger. And she was his. His wife. Forever. The law had left no loopholes. She was his.

"Really?"

He managed to choke out the single word, still trying in vain to maintain a tenuous grip on his self-control, knowing that once that thin thread snapped there would be no going back.

"Really to which part?" she asked quietly.

"The crush?" His voice was husky in a way she'd never heard it before.

Her firewhiskey eyes snapped up to meet his, and when she saw the amber flashing in his gaze it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. She couldn't speak, but nodded slowly, eyes never leaving his.

"For years?" he asked, turning to face her directly.

Again, she nodded mutely, frozen in place and heart racing like prey under the gaze of a ferocious predator.

A pause drew the tension thrumming in the air between them to an almost unbearable high until he spoke.

"Thank Merlin," he breathed out in a sigh of evident relief, snapping the tension as he strode purposefully across the room and crashed his lips onto hers.

She met him halfway so he was upon her in three strides. At two strides he reached out to her, sliding one hand along her cheek to fist in the hair at the nape of her neck, the other wrapping around her lower back to pull her body impossibly tight to his. She whimpered as their lips finally met, her body melding into his as the breathless kiss simultaneously rendered her boneless and turned her blood to fire in her veins.

It wasn't a gentle first kiss, no testing or teasing. No, his lips plundered hers with the passion of every solitary night spent alone in front of his fireplace, every instance he'd been shunned or scorned because of what he was, the frustration of how their intellectual debates had awakened and fulfilled a part of him he never before knew existed even as she remained unreachable and off-limits as his student.

His inner wolf howled in victory as he felt her press her petite body into his with a force a body of her size shouldn't have possessed, meting the fury of his lips with a fire of her own. She soaked up his passion like parched soil after a drought, relishing the feel of his hand holding her head as he plundered her lips, the muscles of his chest of which she had only seen hints when he would take his jacket off as they sat in his office, the way he held her to him as if she were the most precious thing in the world and he feared she would escape if he let her go.

After minutes or possible hours spent lost in his furious kisses, she pulled back, just enough to mumble questions into his lips. Because what was Hermione Granger without endless streams of questions.

"You mean you felt it too?"

She returned to attacking his bottom lip, delaying his answer until he could muster up the willpower to remove himself from her kiss enough to speak.

"Merlin, witch, you almost killed me. I have been circling insanity for months. You are by far the most exquisite, intelligent, beguiling, infuriating, and irresistible woman I have ever encountered, yet you were my student. You were utterly out of reach but so damn special I couldn't help but seek out every second of your company I could. I honestly don't know how much longer I would have lasted before resigning…or imploding…or moving to a shack somewhere in the Himalayas to keep myself from doing something unthinkable."

She had no response but to kiss him again, possibly in part to hide the wetness on her cheeks. Her efforts were thwarted as he pulled back just enough to wipe her tears away with his thumbs.

"Hermione Granger, I love you. I don't want to speculate on how long I've been in love with you, but I do know that I will continue to love you for the rest of my life. I will do whatever is in my power to do to make you feel protected, loved, and cherished until I draw my last breath."

He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, wiping another errant tear off her cheek in an intimate caress.

"As I love you, Remus. I just…thank Merlin for this blasted law. I'm so…I just can't…"

And with that, she abandoned words and poured herself back into his intoxicating kisses. Without ceasing his fevered assault on her lips, he shifted down to place one hand behind her back and loop the other under her knees, carrying her bridal style across the room and into his bedroom.