Hermione walked gently down the path supporting the weight of her former professor. He leaned heavily on her, groaning occasionally. She wrapped an arm around him tightly before apparating them. When they reappeared, Remus stood straight and let the weight off her, keeping an arm draped over her shoulders. He smirked down at her and whistled while he walked. Any sign of his limp or injury disappeared instantly.
"That was quite the performance Mr. Lupin." Remus let out a barking laugh and nudged her with his hip. "Only possible with your supporting one. You played your part perfectly." Walking next to him she could smell the firewhisky mixed with his scent. Grass, parchment, ink. Earth and intellect. She tried to breathe him in, commit the smell to memory. It was so familiar, tingling something in the far recesses of her mind.
They reached Grimmauld Place and entered, moving in unison to remove their cloaks and shoes. Rather than head to the library or up the steps to bed Remus moved to the sitting room and poured himself another glass of firewhisky. He silently offered one to Hermione who for a moment thought against it. She'd had three glasses of wine and was fuzzy. But as she watched him unbutton the sleeves of his oxford and roll them to his elbows, she was unwilling to allow the night to end. She took the glass from him and sat in an armchair, tucking her bare feet below her.
They sipped their drinks in silence for a moment before Remus cleared his throat. "Thank you." He didn't have to elaborate. Hermione took a long drink before pushing her nerves down.
"May I ask what happened Remus?" Remus sat his drink on the table behind him. He was leaning against it, hands bracing himself. It was very reminiscent of how he stood when lecturing in school. "You seemed like you were happy."
"Did I?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. Hermione shrugged and sipped her drink again. Remus sighed. "We were at war. I don't have to tell you that. Nymphadora and I took comfort in each other in a time when neither of us really expected to survive. I was happy enough, for what it was. But I knew it wasn't… we weren't compatible. We have nothing in common." He picked his glass up again and took a drink while unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt.
"When the war ended and we were both alive, we spent a month together in St. Mungo's." Hermione nodded, remembering they had both been injured. "A month with no war. No running, no fighting, no sex because we were both too injured." He wasn't watching her now, his eyes trained on the glass before him. Had he been he'd have seen the blush creep into her cheeks again.
"Stuck together we argued more than anything. During the war, an argument would have led to sex. We couldn't do that while healing. We went round in circles about what we would do when we got out. I got out before her and I just knew, it couldn't continue."
"So, you used her for sex?" her voice was quiet. Ouch, he thought. That stung. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed again.
"We used each other. Sex, comfort, company. Hermione, we really thought we were going to die. I am the last of my group, my family. There was no way I was going to survive. She is an Auror. Her mentor had already died."
"So why aren't you compatible?" she was sitting up now, on her knees in the chair. He tried not to groan at the sight. There's no way she would have known… Hermione was curious now. In the time they'd spent during her school years together in the manor he'd never been so open. Granted she was a child. He'd always debated her and shared his knowledge and experience. But now he was talking to her as an equal, something even now many didn't do.
"Hermione, what do you know of werewolves and mating?" he watched her mind work. She ran through the files in her mind that stored the vast information she had. He knew however, there wouldn't be anything on this topic.
"I can't say I know anything, Remus." Remus nodded and pushed forward, standing straighter. "Our mating isn't that much different than that of humans. Our mates aren't predestined. We get to pick them. However, the wolf plays an intricate part in it. Now the wolf isn't some separate part of us, as much as I like to pretend it is." He was pacing now. "But the wolf, and our role, helps define our… preferences." Her breath hitched and he paused, raising an eyebrow at her. She stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
"During the war, I was content to take what I could get. Nymphadora likes to be in control. I was rarely allowed to lead our encounters. The wolf,"
"Moony?" there was a grumble deep in the back of his mind at her use of that name. This is dangerous. "…doesn't like to be dominated. I'm not a beta. Certainly not an omega. I couldn't spend the rest of my life like that."
"The rest of your life?" he watched her chest rise and fall with deep breaths. Her firewhisky was forgotten on the table beside the chair and it wasn't just the alcohol that warmed her skin to a delectable pink. She shifted slightly and a sweet scent floated from her to him.
Hermione watched his pupils dilate. He was walking toward her now. Walking wasn't appropriate. Stalked. He moves like a hunter… and I'm the prey.
"Werewolves mate for life. Now, we can and do have multiple partners. But once the bond is sealed, it's permanent. Again. We get to choose the partner. I wasn't going to bond myself to someone who wanted to force me into submission. She wanted me to mark her, and I couldn't."
It was as if she was in a trance. The air felt thick. Her eyes were locked with his as he stopped before her. On her knees in the chair, she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. She knew he could likely see down the front of her dress and the thought excited her. His hands were in his pockets, all he had to do was reach out…
GONG. GONG. GONG.
The grandfather clock in the foyer was ringing midnight. Remus gasped and stepped back, turning his back to her and grabbing his glass. The trance she was in was broken. The magic in the air around them dissipated. Hermione sucked in a breath and willed her heart to stop hammering in her chest.
"Well, that's enough on werewolves for one night I think." He said with a breathy laugh. He hadn't turned back to her and kept his hands firmly on the table next to his glass. "Right." She said, standing. "Good night, Remus, sleep well."
He waited until he heard her make it up the stairs to her room before picking up the glass and tossing it. The sound of it shattering against the wall helped steel his nerves and kept him from following her up the stairs. The smell of her arousal was still heavy in the room. He waved his hand silently, removing the shards of the destroyed glass. He grabbed the bottle and took it with him up the stairs to his enjoined bath. Perhaps the remainder of the firewhisky combined with a cold shower would remove the image of her on her knees in front of him from his mind.
Intense rapping at the window woke Hermione the following morning. A glance at the clock showed it was just 7 am. Too early for the post. The owl wouldn't let up and so Hermione rose, groaning from the hammering in her head. She opened the window for the tawny owl. It dropped its delivery on her desk and took off without second thought. A copy of the Daily Prophet opened to the gossip column. A note was tied to the front.
Hermione,
I snagged this before it went to print. I thought you deserved a warning. We obviously need to talk. My office, lunch, today. I'll send a howler and make sure the Professor will be able to hear it if you don't show.
Love,
Gin
Hermione set the note to the side and glanced at the picture center of the page. "Oh, bloody fucking hell." She tossed a baggy t-shirt on and scooped up the paper before running down the stairs with more speed than she had the energy for.
She was slightly irritated to find Remus already at the table sipping his tea. He looked no worse for wear from the large amount of alcohol he'd had the night before. She walked around the table to the medicine cabinet where she knew she'd find a pepper-up potion. Had she been looking she would have seen him snort his hot tea over his hand.
He sat the cup down and waved his wand, clearing his mess while blowing on the burned skin. Her back still to him she reached into the cabinet above her. The baggy t-shirt rose, slightly exposing the underside of her arse clad only in the black underwear from the night before. She downed the potion before turning to him with a glare.
"How are you not hungover?" regaining his composure he flashed her a grin. "Call it a perk of being a werewolf."
She crossed her arms, the Daily Prophet tucked under her arm. "You don't get hungover?" Remus laughed and tested his tea again. "Oh, I do. Years of hiding my pain mean I'm better at masking it. In fact, I may still be a little drunk."
Hermione dropped into the seat in front of him. "Well, this might sober you up." she said, sliding the newspaper in front of him.
The center of the column displayed a picture of the two of them in Madam Malkin's. He wrapped an arm about her waist and pulled her in, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Her laughter was silent but clear. The action repeated over and over infinitely. Continuing down, Remus read aloud.
Did Hermione Granger Catch the Big Bad Wolf?
Hello, my dear readers. It's been quite some time since we've seen hide or hair of Hermione Granger, one-third of the Golden Trio. And her hair is hard to miss! Granger has been noticeably missing from the public eye since the announcement of her separation from both the Ministry of Magic and one Ronald Weasley, best friend to the new Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Harry Potter. Until recently, the three had been nigh inseparable, even after the marriage of Potter to Weasley's youngest sibling, fellow columnist Ginny Potter.
We've wondered together what caused this unforeseeable split. Was Granger entertaining the attentions of both men of the Golden Trio? Perhaps, perhaps not. Considering Granger left the ministry at the same time as the heartbreaking end to her long-term relationship, we've long speculated that her attention may have been spent within the ministry. Perhaps on the minister himself whom Granger was known to have worked closely with.
Now Granger is seen cuddling up to none other than her former Professor and well-known werewolf, Remus Lupin! Lupin was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor during the Golden Trio's third year, best friend to James Potter and wrongfully convicted Sirius Black, and carries the Order of Merlin First Class for his efforts during the war. He is also 19 years older than Miss Granger, dashingly handsome, and as far as this writer knows, single. Granger is known for her defense of werewolves and carried a huge part in the repeal of anti-werewolf legislation. Could a relationship have formed between the professor and Granger, leading to her interest in werewolf rights?
Keep reading for firsthand information and as always when I know, you know!
Written by: Rita Skeeter
Hermione was standing now, pacing the kitchen. Remus was silent a moment before closing the paper and sighing. "I'm sorry Hermione. I didn't realize someone would take a picture of us."
"You're sorry? She'll be sorry when I'm done with her. She thought a year in a jar was bad enough? Remus, she is making you out to be some kind of pervert!" At first, Remus thought her anger was at the way being seen with a werewolf in such light made her look. Of course not. That doesn't matter to her.
"Hermione, no one that matters will believe any of that woman's nonsense." He waved his wand, flicking the paper into the woodstove. Hermione huffed and moved to make her tea. "It was irritating when she wrote that I was sleeping with the Harry. Downright comical when she threw in Kingsley. Do you know the worst part?" she turned to sit; her tea held between both hands. Remus remained silent, waiting for her to be ready to talk.
"Ron believed her." This time Hermione did catch his snort. He coughed for a moment before waving over two plates of eggs and bacon he'd charmed to cook. "How could he believe that nonsense? Was that…" he trailed, not wanting to force her to talk about something she wasn't ready for.
Hermione shook her head. "He didn't believe the Harry one, but he wasn't convinced I wasn't seeing Kingsley or someone else in the Ministry. But no, not entirely. I ended things." She took a bite of her bacon, thinking for a moment. "When I told him I wanted to leave the ministry he was ecstatic. He thought I meant I was ready for us to get married, and start having children like Ginny and Harry. When I told him that wasn't the case, he lost it. Accused me of sleeping with someone else, implied Kingsley. I realized then that I didn't ever want to marry him." She shrugged. "We too were incompatible."
Remus paused his fork moving to his mouth. So, she remembered their previous night's conversation. Part of him hoped she'd been too drunk to remember. He certainly hadn't been in complete control of himself and had let himself get too inebriated. Had she not remembered he could have acted as if nothing happened. He waited to see if she said more, but she didn't. It appeared she simply wanted to let him know she remembered but was content not to broach the subject anymore.
Hermione finished her plate and stood. "I think I'm going to go take a long bath and settle the last of this hangover before I have to meet Ginny for lunch." Remus raised an eyebrow and Hermione gestured to the now ash paper in the stove. "She saw the picture and has questions. I was threatened with a howler if I didn't do as she requested. Thank you for the breakfast, Remus."
He groaned inwardly as she walked away, thankful that he'd been able to stay at the table. When he was certain she was tucked away in her room he dashed up the stairs. With Hermione running the water, thoughts of Umbridge in a bikini would have to do.
Remus was not downstairs when Hermione left. She assumed that like her, he was still nursing his hangover and had gone to nap. Knowing Hermione would not want to constantly enter the Daily Prophet building and drum up more gossip, Ginny had the floo network connected in her office. Hermione tossed a handful of powder in the fireplace and stepped in.
Ginny was waiting for her in the office. She had two large chicken salads sitting on her desk. She gave Hermione a quick hug and shoved her down into the seat. "I get 30 minutes. Spill."
Hermione rolled her eyes and let them settle on Prophet on Ginny's desk, open to the picture of her and Remus. "There's nothing to spill." Ginny started to protest but Hermione tossed a tomato in her mouth. "I mean it. It's not what it looks like."
Ginny spit the tomato back out and smacked the picture. "Do you even know what it looks like? Cause it looks like he was about to devour you in the middle of Malkin's." Hermione took a bite and thought for a moment.
"Okay I know exactly what it looks like, but I swear it isn't. We saw some witches whispering about me and he decided to play a game with them. I let him. We didn't expect this. At least they'll stop saying I'm sleeping with Kingsley." Ginny giggled. "That was less believable than this. This? This could happen." She said, tapping the page again. Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head.
"Absolutely not Ginny. He was simply being a marauder. Messing with people is in his blood." Ginny rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "Are you blind? He's been back a whole two days and clearly wants you. He lied to the whole house last night just to make sure you went home with him."
Hermione wasn't surprised. If she put any stock in divination, she would bet money Ginny had the gift. The other woman was far too intuitive for her own good. "That wasn't about me going home with him. That was about keeping Ron and Tonks away from us." Ginny waved her hand dismissively.
"Sure Red. Keep telling yourself that." Hermione gave her a quizzical look. "Red?" Ginny pointed to the hanger next to the fireplace. Hermione had worn the same red cloak as the night before. "Little Red Riding Hood. Miss bookworm didn't put that together?"
Hermione had the good sense to look mortified. "I live with a werewolf and have been wearing a red traveling cloak. Merlin's beard whatever made me pick that one? I have half a dozen different colors! What must he be thinking?" Ginny grinned. "He's thinking he wants to eat you up."
She was about to throw another tomato at Ginny when glimpses of the night before flashed before her. Most of the conversation came in pieces. She knew they'd been discussing the end of Remus' relationship with Tonks and how they'd been incompatible. It became fuzzy then. Ginny waved her hand in front of Hermione's face. "Hello, Hermione? Are you alright?"
Hermione flushed and her stomach twisted at the image of Remus standing before her, explaining how he likes to dominate his partners in bed. Ginny eyed her before gasping. "What happened?" Hermione groaned and pushed the salad away. "Okay, but you can't tell anyone…"
Hermione exited the floo into the sitting room. She entered the foyer and was about to call for Remus when she heard voices in the kitchen. Pulling her wand she stepped up to the door.
"So it's true then?" Tonks. "You're fucking Hermione?" Hermione covered her mouth to hide her gasp. Something slammed on the table and Hermione imagined it was Remus' hand.
"No Dora, I'm not sleeping with Hermione." "Then what the fuck is this Remus?"
"An unfortunate misunderstanding Dora. But you know what, even if I was, it's none of your business." A chair scraped across the ground loudly, ending in a crash.
"None of my businesses? I always thought my age was the reason you kept saying we were incompatible. Obviously not if you're fucking her."
"Would you stop saying that?" he was yelling now. "That's crude and Hermione deserves more respect than that."
"According to Ron, you wouldn't be the first." Hermione heard a distinct growl. Tonks was testing him. "Nymphadora if you believe a word that boy says you're a fool. No, your age was never a factor. The fact that I can't have an intelligent or stimulating conversation with you, or that you treat me like your neutered mutt and try to convince me it's all I deserve because who else could love a werewolf, that's the reason we're incompatible."
SLAP. The sound echoed into the foyer. Hermione scrambled back, trying to make it appear as if she had just come through the floo. Tonks stormed from the kitchen, glaring daggers at Hermione as she headed out the front door letting it slam behind her. Remus was in the doorway and Hermione kept her eyes trained on the floor.
"I'm sorry Remus." She heard him shift as he turned into the kitchen. "You have nothing to apologize for Hermione. I'm sorry you had to hear that." Hermione followed him and pulled a steak from the fridge. He took it gratefully and pressed it gently to his cheek.
"You knew I was here?" he nodded, tapping his ear. "I heard the fireplace." Hermione made them fresh tea and he followed her into the library. He took his typical seat on the couch, lounging across it while Hermione worked. This time she brought down an enchanted cd player so Remus could listen with her. The rest of the evening was blissfully uneventful, save for a single owl from Ron asking Hermione to talk to him. She lit it on fire with a spark from her wand. The evening came to an end with one small 6-foot section of shelves remaining. Hermione dusted her hands and climbed down from her ladder.
"Tomorrow then. Goodnight Remus."
