The washroom door slammed heavily behind Hermione, bouncing off the old frame to swing back in behind her. She knelt before the toilet just in time as the contents of her stomach forced their way up. She tried to hold her hair from her face and fleetingly noticed a second set of hands wrapped around the mess. Her stomach finally stopped lurching and she sat back on her heels, blinking away the tears that always come with vomiting.
The hands slipped from her hair and a glass floated next to her head. She quickly became more aware of the second person in the small washroom with her. Lupin had followed her in, kindly conjuring water for her and holding her hair as her reality crashed in around her. He had managed to close the door behind them, and she could feel the tingle of the silencing charms around them.
He's quick with his spells alright. She took a sip from the glass, swishing the water in her mouth to rinse the foul taste before spitting into the sink gracelessly. Lupin sat back against the door, twirling his wand between long fingers. His legs were scrunched up to his chest, allowing her as much room as possible in the tight space.
Hermione shifted her back now to the far wall beside the toilet. She stared at the man before her, neither speaking. He had silver lines across his face and neck, the everlasting marks of his affliction. More recent pink welts rose from under the collar of his brown button-down, ending just below his adam's apple. His sandy brown hair was slightly longer than necessary, adding to his ransacked appearance. It fell in his face, often resulting in a sigh as he ran his fingers through it to push it back. She'd wondered before if he even knew he was doing it or if it had become an unconscious habit. His eyes were green, flecked with gold that would shift with the cycles of the moon. Crow's feet edged them, and he had deep lines between his brows from furrowing them. Another unconscious habit, particularly when he was reading, she'd noted.
He wasn't an unattractive man, rather the opposite. He had a mysterious and dangerous air to him that she knew came from his lycanthropy. He was wickedly intelligent, and while lean, she knew from the incident in the Department of Mysteries, extremely strong. But aside from harboring a silent crush on the pensive professor in her third year, she had never thought of him as a man. A member of the Order to respected. Not someone to marry. Not someone to-
"Hermione?" His gentle voice broke through her wandering thoughts. Her brown eyes met his and she felt her face flush. Professor R. J. Lupin and sex should never be thought of at the same time.
"I'm sorry Professor. My reaction was rather childish, and I hope you don't take offense. It was involuntary, and not regarding the thought of marrying you. I just…" she sighed, "am not ready to be married." He seemed to regard her for a moment, before laying his wand on the floor between his legs and sliding forward to take her hands in his.
"My dear, I won't say I understand. I can't begin to, beyond also feeling decidedly uninterested in marriage at present. I do wish, for your own sanity and reputation, you would consider one of the Weasley boys' offers." While kind, his voice had taken on an authoritative tone, one she recognized from the classroom. She shook her head, her curls dancing about her face.
"I will not be the force that end's what could be wonderful loving relationships for both of them. If I have to do this, it will be with someone who's life I won't be entirely destroying." Remus winced at those words. Hermione's eyes widened and she pulled her hands back from his, one raising to cover her mouth.
"Professor, Moody wasn't correct about you being, entangled. Aren't you and Tonks-" Remus' eyebrows raised at the mention of Tonks. Their relationship, or lack thereof, hadn't been made public in any sense. While he knew the Auror had made it known her feelings toward him, she had respectfully kept their dalliances to herself.
"How did you know about Nymphadora?" he didn't want to come across accusatory, but he was curious. Hermione appeared a little guilty and a flush crept across her face again.
"I heard you, in the library a week ago. It was late, I couldn't sleep and went to find something to read. She was," the flush had reached her ears now, "trying to coax you to bed. I left rather than interrupt you." He was impressed. He'd known someone was in the hall that night. He could hear the light footfall. But that the girl had kept what she'd heard to herself warmed his heart. Not one to gossip, she left his private life private.
"I will be perfectly honest with you Hermione. Nymphadora and I are not an item. Nor were we ever to be. It is a physical relationship. Two people fulfilling a need. Nothing more, and one I am happy to end if it means keeping you safe. I do not want you to concern yourself with what this would do to my life, but to think thoroughly about what it will do to yours. I am nearly 20 years your elder, and a werewolf. Even if we manage to win the war and repeal this wretched law before the 2 years are up, the damage to your reputation may be irreparable."
Her stomach flipped unexpectedly at the thought of her quiet professor fulfilling a need as he put it, without an emotional attachment.
"Would we have to…" she swallowed audibly, "Would we have to have sex?" She lifted her eyes to meet his, panic swirling in the brown orbs. Remus felt a similar panic but stamped it down, trying to be a calming and reassuring force.
"I don't know for sure. I don't believe so. Nowhere in the article released, or the information Kingsley and Arthur found states as such. There is no magical binding to ensure copulation, just that a child must be conceived by the second year. I hope; I believe we can fix this and annul the marriage before then. If not, it's a proverbial bridge to be crossed then." He watched as she chewed her bottom lip, cataloging the information in her mind. Suddenly she shifted, sliding across the floor to sit beside him, her back now against the door as his. Shoulder to shoulder now she sighed, letting her head fall back against the door.
"I'm not concerned about my reputation Professor. I'm a muggle-born in a magical world. I will always be out of place. I hope when this war is over to change those beliefs, but to do so I must be here. I must finish my education. I must fight alongside Harry. I will not be used as a pawn to coerce him or tormented by death eaters for what minimal secrets I may hold." Her eyes were closed now, her head sliding softly onto his shoulder.
"I will do whatever in my power to ensure you have every opportunity to make those changes Hermione." He made to lift himself from the floor but the girl next to him stiffened.
"Professor?" she hadn't opened her eyes, her voice coming soft and tired.
"Yes, my dear?"
"Can we stay here a moment longer? I'm not ready to talk to anyone." Remus settled back against the door, his body protesting but agreeing, nonetheless.
"We can do that. But Hermione, perhaps you should get comfortable with calling me Remus."
"Yes, Remus."
Molly, Arthur, Kingsley, Sirius, and McGonagall were the only members of the Order still awake when the bathroom door opened. Remus exited, a sleeping Hermione cradled in his arms. He shushed slightly and shook his head as Molly moved to intercept them.
"Molly she's exhausted. I'm going to put her to bed and will be back down in a moment." He carried her up the stairs swiftly. Ginny was asleep in their shared room, a soft snore coming from her bed. Remus laid Hermione in her own, slipping her shoes from her feet and draping a blanket over her.
Back downstairs, the five Order members waited expectedly. Remus entered the kitchen and wandlessly summoned a bottle of firewhiskey. He contemplated a glass for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and taking a drink from the bottle. Their eyes burned into him and he slumped forward onto the table.
"It appears we will be getting married."