Tie Your Heart at Night to Mine, Love
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Special thanks to MammaWeasley27, for beta-work, and to mrsblack0905 for alpha!
A/N¹: The idea for this scene came from the PoA movie. Look up the transformation scene and you'll know what I mean :)
Mate.
A part of her knew what Remus had meant by it, the meaning dangling from the tip of her tongue, ready to be spewed, and almost engendering a snort at the thought of her being not only an ambulant encyclopedia, but a breathing dictionary, as well. Regardless of that, realization wouldn't come, refusing to drip into her conscience like a drop of dew to the ground.
Wolves mated for life, but certainly werewolves… No. There wasn't a single mention of it in any of the books Hermione had read, and she had read plenty. Even biased as they were, they wouldn't leave out such an important detail as a… a partner. Furthermore, but for a night a month, werewolves were more man than wolf. Certainly, it would be inconceivable… and, even if it wasn't, for her to be his mate…
He called her name then, a welcome reprieve from her clambering thoughts and meaningless babble about her friends and the ball. But, when she raised her head and met his gaze, his eyes shone liquid gold.
Her heart thudded in her chest. All thought fled her—the predatory quality of his eyes hypnotic and feral without Remus' soothing green. The wind hissed through the structure of the Monument. Despite the warmth, her skin prickled.
Honed instincts, years of them, screamed at her to run.
The last time she had seen those eyes, gleaming under the canopy of trees in the Forbidden Forest, she had been reduced from cleverest witch of her age, to doe-eyed, fleeing-for-her-life prey. She could still recall the tang of blood on her tongue as she bit her split lower lip, helpless to do anything but wait for the werewolf to pounce. Harry had shielded her with his body, but to little avail. If not for Buckbeak, the wolf would have struck – and most likely killed – both Harry and her.
Tendrils of fear swirled inside her stomach, her pulse racing through her veins, but the blood it carried seemed unable to deliver her brain sufficient oxygen. She ought to think, yet she ought to run, too, and, in her present state, one would have to come to the detriment of the other. No more than a whisper, a hint amongst half-formed thoughts and emotions told her it was imperative to stay, the reason why lost to the confusion.
Ultimately, it was the sight of Remus that kept her there. While she struggled with herself, she had shifted on her feet, swallowed, and frowned. Those were the reactions her mind had registered, and Merlin knew how many more had gone unnoticed, somewhere below her own self-awareness. All the while he had yet to move, his chest and body unnaturally still under her gaze. As if intending to appear less menacing to her. As if, by being still enough, he could make her stay a second or minute longer.
She recognized that behavior. At times, she, too, had been tempted to abide by it. If I could be less of a swot, less bossy, less abrasive… Less than I was. To please others.
Whereas he was diminishing himself to please…
Her eyes narrowed. Tears sprung into them and, though unseeing, she could see past the color of his. "I'm not a skittish animal, I won't leave you. Breathe, please."
Both of them did. And the littlest rim of green detracted from the unabridged gold. "Hermione—"
"Kitten, you must listen—"
Her stomach hovered higher in her chest than it should, putting her self-control through too soon a test, and her hand shot to contain it, "Sirius! I forgot you were there."
The wizard smirked.
"Not very polite - fireworks do have feelings, you know - but understandable," his demeanor sobered in a way it rarely did, and Hermione didn't miss the concerned glance he threw at an unaware Remus, "Just—Just hear what he has to say. Please."
It was true, then. The dewdrop hit the ground.
And she found she did not care.
Hermione gave Sirius a curt nod and set her jaw. She knew not what it entailed, to be somebody's mate. Knew not the reason behind it or how and when it had happened. What she knew, however, was that she refused to hurt Remus. In the end, it was as simple as that. Even if it meant fighting every single one of her reflexes.
The sense of safety Hermione had lulled Moony into was fleeting. The wolf hadn't known that, but the man did. He had watched the fear etched in her changed features, an emotion he had recognized in others all his life. It would, almost without fail, grow into hatred, scorn, disgust, malice, abhorrence; a wide assortment with only one implication: unwanted.
"I'm your wolf's mate." There were tears in her eyes and severity in her demeanor. Could he even blame her?
"It wasn't a conscious choice, Hermione, I didn't—" Never had the need to explain been so overwhelming, so much so that it ached. The memories of that night hit him full-blown, the only clear ones from his transformations. Because it pertained to their mate. "You talked to me that night—here, in the forest. After I had transformed. And I—It howled because It recognized you.
"The wolf could smell your fear. You must understand It misread the cause of your panic. There was Peter, Snape… your friends, Padfoot – they were all potential threats to you, but never the wolf. Of course, you couldn't know that. When you stepped back, you were surrounded by them. And It-I would have protected you with my life." He scanned her face, hanging on her every expression, but they betrayed nothing, "After Padfoot attacked me—"
Her brows furrowed.
"—I howled," Hermione looked down to the patch of grass on her right, "You came."
"I did. But Harry was there. Noble as it was, him holding you…"
"Another threat."
His voice grated on his ears, but he couldn't swallow, "I would know, after I regained consciousness, it was me you were afraid of, but not then. You were terrified. And It would have killed them all, foolishly assuming it was their fault, when the only monster there was me. No amount of apologies can change it, but I am sorry. More than you can possibly understand."
Although Remus knew it was the least Hermione deserved, he found he couldn't face her. Instead, he closed his eyes and listened in for any clues of her departure. And, for a moment, there were none.
Grass crackled underneath her feet. This was it…
With eyes forced opened again, Remus waited for events to unfold. He wouldn't defend himself, not from any curses she might deservingly throw at him, from her rage, her disdain, her insults, or her silence.
Over the years, he had prepared himself for every single scenario. For never seeing her again. Or for forever seeing her keep her distance.
He hadn't, however, prepared for what happened. Hadn't prepared himself for her tears.
And, when they threatened to fall, he never expected her to close the distance between them. Never, despite the myriad of possible outcomes, had he dreamed she would throw her arms around him.
Her tears landed on the fabric of his shirt.
Hermione was crying for him.
As he touched the locks of her hair, the red curls turned brown. And he resisted the urge to undo all the changes with his fingers.
"You should have told me."
"You were a teenager. A brilliant one, but still…"
He didn't know how long they stood there, but, at some point, the afternoon had turned to night and the glow of the Phoenix became the only thing illuminating them.
It was Hermione who broke the silence, "Harry kept a bedroom for you in case you changed your mind."
"Regulus'?"
"No, that's Ginny's." At that, Remus raised an eyebrow. And her laughter sounded like a long-lost song, "She does have her own bedroom. She just, uh, chooses not to stay there. You could sleep in yours tonight. Or..."
"Or?"
"There is this smell, you see. Sandalwood and... Your smell. And it's quite comforting and it feels warm, not that a smell could possibly feel warm—" She stopped herself, "What I mean to say is...would you stay tonight? With me?"
And, though it was night, he could feel the sun. His own private sun.
A/N²: I really enjoyed writing this chapter; I hope you guys liked it, too!
Your thoughts are always welcome :)
Huge thanks to:
My reviewers: Missingvangogh, Tomlinzoides, Huffleclaw8, nostalgiakills, Anoriel Thiliedis, SereniteRose, arizonadaydreamer, RAV3N R1PP3R, Guest, and twztdwildcat
To Missingvangogh, Hermionedeservesbetter2016, fandomprincess0602, aubreyod, Kicki von Berger, koquinn9789, jessbb27, Umngrrrl, Shadowspinner1920, Ofpaintedflowers, swanqueenlove, twztdwildcat, and booklover1608 for adding the story to their favorites.
And to Hermionedeservesbetter2016, Lupin Lady, Huffleclaw8, fandomprincess0602, Love-is-hell, penmage007, koquinn9789, TheLadyKiller15422, PriddyLily14, Megan R Corey, Cerus, jessbb27, Umngrrrl, Bloody Phantom, Ofpaintedflowers, swanqueenlove, NekoOtaku 15, Winchester-or-Whitlock, DragonSlayerArts, Shadow-AL, twztdwildcat, MissElizabethDarcy6789, mg1712, knitknitread, and Mellyissa for following the story.
Thank you all! Please review :)
To Guest: It wasn't the secret about Hermione being Remus' mate they were trying to keep, but the secret about Kingsley's job offer being related to the Order. They want her to make the decision because she wants to work at the Ministry, not because she feels she should. Thank you for the review!