A/N: *slips in quietly and deposits the chapter for you to devour*
*giggles as she tip-toes away, once more*
xx-Kitten.
All I Remember
By Kittenshift17
CHAPTER EIGHT
Monday 12th November, 1979 – 7:38AM
Hermione's Flat, Diagon Alley
Four hours of sleep was not enough to deal with the amusement of having James Potter feeling her up in his sleep.
"Morning, beautiful," the messy haired wizard muttered, having spooned up behind her in bed when she'd returned from her shower. His arm was looped over her waist and his morning erection was pressed none-too-innocently against her arse.
Hermione fought the urge to grin.
"Morning, Prongs," Hermione replied softly, recalling the number of times she'd woken in this exact position with Harry rather than James.
Unlike Harry, however, James responded to the greeting by grinding himself against her a little more, nuzzling his nose against her bare shoulder, and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck while the arm he'd looped over her waist shifted up until his hand cupped her breast gently.
"Wait…" he muttered when Hermione shifted slightly, and her wild curls tickled his face.
She turned just far enough to watch his eyes go wide when he realised he wasn't spooning his girlfriend, and she cringed when he emitted an ear-splitting shriek of surprise to find himself in bed with a girl he probably didn't even recall the name of. Throwing himself backward, he skidded across the sheets away from her until he fell out of bed and Hermione couldn't hold back the absolute howls of laughter.
She imagined that, at some point, Lily Evans might confront her about this moment, but it would be entirely worth it just to see that look of horror and panic on James's stricken face.
"Who the bloody hell are…." James began. "Wait… Hermione? I'm in bed with… Hermione? Why? Fuck! Lily is going to kill me! Tell me we didn't have sex last night? Please tell me I just got fall down drunk, made an arse of myself and couldn't get it up?"
Hermione's laughter was soon joined by that of a hungover sounding Sirius Black, whose gleeful chortles from the next room were well worth the headache induced by James's shriek.
"Is that any way to talk to a lady you sweet talked into bed with you, Prongs?" Sirius called out while James grew steadily paler and more terrified looking until he looked like he might actually cry or faint, whichever came first.
"Please tell me I didn't?" he breathed, watching Hermione get out of bed and stretch languidly in her tank top and shorts. "Shit. You've got a love-bite. What the fuck have I done?"
He actually looked like he was about to cry and Hermione took pity on him.
"Come on, superstar," she said, offering him a hand to help him to his feet. "Let's get you through the shower and on your way to practice before you sob all over my floor."
"He's sobbing?" Sirius cried gleefully, a thump and the sound of scrabbling feet following before Sirius appeared in the open doorway.
He looked like hell, no matter how pretty he was. Blood-shot eyes, hair all in a mess, his jeans rumpled and his shirt nowhere in sight, Sirius looked like the incarnation of a God of Hangovers.
"You… you let me… Pads!" James said, his chin actually trembling.
"Oh, for goodness sake! Pull it together, Potter," Hermione sighed. "You didn't cheat on your bloody girlfriend unless cheating constitutes drooling all over my bloody pillow, you big lout. Get up off that floor this minute and get your scrawny arse into that shower so you aren't late for work or so help me, I'll tell Evans you rocked my world!"
James looked like he didn't know if he should be relieved he hadn't betrayed Lily, annoyed at being bossed around, or horrified that she'd lie just to get him in trouble.
Sirius was positively howling with laughter now, having to grip the doorframe to maintain his balance as James's expression raced through several emotions.
"Shower, Potter! Now!" Hermione snapped her fingers at him, used to handling Harry's bewilderment in the mornings and thus having no trouble dealing with one panicked and hungover James Potter.
"Blimey, witch," James groused. "Where's my bloody shirt? Padfoot, I'm going to get you for this, mate. See if I don't. Where's my fucking shirt? I have to get to practice. I have to find Lily and ask her to marry me, for real this time, before anything like this ever happens again. I…"
His words trailed off as he shoved Sirius out of his way and raced into the bathroom, not pausing to remember that this wasn't his flat in his haste. He was naked, and the water was running before Sirius managed to get up off the floor, Hermione having stepped over him to reach the kitchen. She was still giggling to herself when she spotted Peter stirring on the couch, apparently not having awoken to James's screaming.
"Urgh!" he groaned just in time to fall off the couch. Hermione sniggered as she began fixing a pot of tea and cooking a stack of toast to feed the hungry young men before they could be on their way.
"You alright, mate?" Sirius was still chortling as he joined Hermione in the kitchen, still looking like hell and still shirtless. He snatched up a piece of dry toast and accepted the mug of tea she made for him with a peck on the cheek for Hermione.
"Where the hell…?" Peter began, unaccustomed to falling on the floor. "Oh, for fuck's sake. Where are we, Padfoot?"
"Granger's flat," Sirius grinned. "Come get some toast and a cuppa, mate. Prongs is almost done in the shower. You better get on home and use ours or you'll be late for work, too."
"What about you?" Peter asked, stumbling into the kitchen, similarly shirtless. Hermione noted idly that both Marauders had the same tattoo James had, their four animal forms silhouetted across the entire expanse of their backs. Sirius had a number of bites and claw-marks too, no doubt from fighting with Remus at the full moon.
"I'll follow James through, unless Hermione minds having us invade her bathroom as well as her spare bed?"
"Have at it, Sirius," Hermione said around a yawn. "I don't have to be downstairs for work until half-eight. Didn't you say you've got training this morning at eight?"
"Ah, shit!" Sirius groaned, his eyes going wide just as James came racing out into the living room, his hair sopping wet, his glasses askew and his shirt on inside-out.
"Prongs! Breakfast, love," Hermione called when he made a beeline for the fireplace. "And I packed all of you lunch."
She fished their lunches from the fridge, setting them on the counter.
"Bloody hell, woman," Sirius said, grinning at her. "Marry me?"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"We agreed that you're too pretty for me, Black," Hermione smiled at him gently. "But you're sweet to offer."
"Anytime you change your mind, you let me know. I could get used to this."
"What? Breakfast you didn't have to make and a packed lunch for your day at work?" Hermione chuckled. "I didn't know it was so easy to please you."
"Any time you want to learn more exciting things about how to please me, Treasure, you let me know, yeah?" he winked at her.
"Gods, you never stop," she laughed. "Get in the shower and introduce yourself to the toothpaste before I'm forced to tell all those pretty little twits you want to bed just how unattractive the morning after looks."
Sirius clutched at his heart as though she'd wounded him, though his eyes glittered with mischief even as he walked backward in the direction of the shower.
"You… made me lunch?" Peter asked in a small voice from behind her when Hermione waved Sirius away. James was munching down his toast so fast he was going to make himself sick. Peter, on the other hand, was sipping a cup of tea and holding the packed lunch loosely in his free hand, eyeing her like she was some magical beast he'd never seen before.
"It's just corned-beef and pickles," Hermione said, looking down for a moment. "And there's some fruit in there too, in case you need a snack before lunch. I… well, I'd have thrown in some sweet biscuits or a slice of cake, but I haven't had the chance to bake any yet."
Peter looked momentarily stricken, like he might cry at the idea of anyone being so nice to him, and Hermione hated herself, and him, just a little when she felt a sympathetic twist of her heart inside her chest. He looked so touched by the idea of anyone packing him lunch that he might actually cry.
"I… thank you," Peter said quietly. "You really didn't have to go to any trouble."
"Why did you go to the trouble? James asked around a mouthful of toast. "You don't… um… feel obligated or… or anything, right?"
"James Potter, you and I did not have sex! Stop looking so bloody worried, take your lunch and get going before you miss practice!" Hermione admonished, putting her hands on her hips.
"I… Sorry about this morning," he said, frowning. "I didn't mean to… I thought you were Lily… I… bloody hell."
His cheeks flushed pink as he threw back his cup of tea in two long slurps.
"Yeah, yeah," Hermione laughed. "Like you're the first bloke to grind his morning wood on my arse. Get, if you're going, before I smack you for being too adorable!"
James looked startled before he chuckled, shaking his head and accepting the lunch bag she held out to him with his name scrawled on it. He pecked her on the cheek as he went by, still chuckling as he muttered his thanks, before hurrying to the fireplace to Floo home.
It occurred to Hermione, belatedly, that Remus wasn't up yet, and she found herself alone in the kitchen with Peter. She glanced over at him as she buttered some toast for herself, finding his beady little eyes on her. He looked guarded, but perhaps hopeful that they could be friends.
"Thanks for… letting us crash here," he said politely. "And for feeding us. And making us lunch. And letting the lads use your shower."
"It's not a problem, Peter," Hermione said softly. "It's just nice not to be here all alone."
Peter looked startled by her words.
"You could… get some flatmates," he suggested, apparently trying to be helpful. "If you don't like living here alone, that is. Not that you have to, but if you were worried about it, I'm sure there are people who'd love to live above Diagon Alley."
He was babbling. Hermione suspected she made him nervous.
"I should… um… get going," he muttered, his cheeks turning pink. "Got to shower before work, and all. Um, thanks again for last night, and breakfast. And lunch. And I'm gonna go, before I talk your ear off and get myself hexed."
In spite of herself, Hermione smiled fondly at the blond wizard.
He nodded to her quickly, turned away like he meant to leave, and then turned back, closing the distance between the two of them and throwing his arms around her in brief but tight embrace. Hermione was so startled, and he did it so quickly, that she barely had time to awkwardly pat his back before he let go, scuttled to the couch to grab his shirt, and disappeared into the fireplace, his shirt in one hand and his bag of lunch in the other.
Hermione shook her head to herself, frowning and wondering where Remus was and how she would ever reconcile hugging the man she intended to murder. Sirius could be heard whistling jauntily from the shower and Hermione sighed softly, realising it was the same tune she used to hear him whistle when he was in a good mood at Grimmauld Place before he'd died. Flicking her wand to tidy the kitchen after the rush of feeding the three boys, Hermione heard the taps shut off in the bathroom before Sirius appeared, looking a little healthier, his hair drenched.
"You're bloody brilliant, Treasure," he told her when she handed him his lunch bag.
Hermione squealed when he took it, sat it right back on the counter, took hold of her shoulders and dipped her low before planting a wet but mercifully minty kiss upon her lips.
"Get off, would you?" Hermione laughed, swatting at him in protest when he attempted to snog her and earned a bitten lip for his trouble.
"Feisty little thing, aren't you?" he laughed, righting her just as quickly. "Thanks for putting us up and feeding us, Granger. I mean it. And do me a favour, yeah? Wake Moony? A little at a time? He's a right beast in the mornings."
There was a wicked gleam in his eyes as he winked at her, took his lunch and strolled over to the Floo before disappearing in a roar of green flames. Hermione shook her head, wiping at her mouth to get the taste of him off her lips. She glanced at her watch before blanching. She and Remus would both be late if she didn't manage to drag him out of bed soon.
Hurrying toward the spare bedroom, Hermione let herself into the room, finding Remus stretched on his stomach, one arm hanging off the edge of the bed, his back bared thanks to the way the sheet barely covered his arse. She blinked to find he had the same tattoo as his friends, taking up his entire back, though his looked a little ragged thanks to the number of other scars crisscrossing the coloured patches of flesh. He had his head under his pillow.
"Remus?" she asked, approaching cautiously. "You need to get up, love. You've got to be at work in thirty minutes."
She strolled closer, leaning over to shake his shoulder to wake him. Hermione screamed when his arm shot up and around her, as he flipped and dragged her across his chest and planted her on her back in the middle of the bed, his fangs bared and his eyes feral as he snarled at her viciously. Merlin, he did not take being woken up lightly.
Hermione blinked at him, letting her body go lax with submission even as she tingled at the feel of being pinned under him so deliciously. He blinked at her when she stopped squealing. For a moment he looked confused, his brain not entirely awake yet. His fangs disappeared so quickly that if she hadn't known to be looking for them, she surely wouldn't have spotted them. His eyes shifted back to their human shade of mossy green and he pulled back just far enough to take in who she was.
He didn't speak as he registered her identity, he simply leaned down and snogged her hotly. Hermione whimpered against his lips when his tongue swept into her mouth, her hands fisting in his hair and her body arching subconsciously beneath his. Remus growled softly as he broke from her lips to lick, nip and kiss his way down the length of her throat, scrambling her thoughts instantly.
She gasped breathlessly as he kissed his way across her collarbone, down her chest, and nuzzled her tank-top out of the way before his hot mouth engulfed her right nipple. Her mind went blank with need and she moaned softly as he used the tip of his tongue to work her pebbled nipple against the ribbed roof of his mouth. Her whole body was on fire with heat and desire and a need so fierce that she ached for him. She could feel his morning erection pressed against her thigh through the jeans he'd slept in, rubbing insistently, hot even through the fabric.
Morgana's crows, she wanted him.
He lifted off her just enough to slide his hand between their bodies, his fingers seeking, questing, burrowing beneath the waistband of her loose-fitting shorts and into her knickers.
"Sweet Syracuse, Remus!" Hermione whined breathlessly when he boldly smoothed his fingers against the silky skin of her mons, his thumb finding and pressing her clit in slow circles that made her forget how to think.
I must be dreaming, she thought mindlessly as he released one nipple with a hot swipe of his tongue, only to latch onto the other one, gently nipping the peak with his too-sharp teeth and drawing a ragged cry from deep inside her just as he drove two fingers into the slick heat of her quim. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, her mind trying to keep up as her body was overcome with sensations while he swiped his thumb repeatedly against her clit, driving her mad with need, winding her tighter and tighter, like a wind-up toy he couldn't wait to set loose.
Her fingers were still tangled in his hair, cradling his head as he took his sweet time plucking her strings of pleasure like a talented minstrel. Arching into the touch as his fingers beckoned deep inside of her, writhing and swiping over her special spot so fast and so sure, she was certain she'd plummet off the deep end and into an abyss of bliss she'd never known. His free hand burrowed under the small of her back, forcing her to arch up, pressing her body more insistently upon his wicked fingers and Hermione was sure she would splinter.
Desperately she slipped a hand free of his hair, skimming it over his strong shoulders and down his back before curling it around his hip and burrowing it into the still open jeans he wore low on his hips. He growled around her nipple when she wrapped her fingers around his cock. Her eyes widened when she felt just how big he was. She'd had an idea, of course, but sweet Circe, the man was hung.
Primal instinct and rushing endorphins prevented all rational thought as she gripped him tight, working her hand up and down when she managed to free him from the confines of his jeans. He growled again, louder this time, the sensation vibrating through her breast and sending spears of pleasure directly to her core that would push her over the edge.
"Oh, gods, Remus!" Hermione whined breathily when her body clenched and then spasmed, everything pulling taut and snapping free as he brought her off.
His triumphant chuckle was pure sin as she gushed upon his fingers, her mind empty but for euphoric delight and pure bliss even as she kept working her hand over his rigid cock hungrily. He gripped her hand upon him gently, re-positioning her slightly and working her to a slower, more lingering rhythm. Hermione mewled when he licked her nipple once more before climbing back up her body to claim her lips in a slow, sensual kiss. She stroked him languidly, twitching and pulsing with every twist of his fingers inside her and he nipped her lip when his breathing hitched.
"Fuck!" he hissed, his mouth leaving hers with a low expletive groaned against her jaw.
Hermione watched him through half-lidded eyes as she slowly brought him off, enjoying the way his cheeks flushed with colour and his eyes threaded gold as his hips jerked. Thrusting himself against her hand, Remus growled softly again before a low whine tore from his lips and his head tipped back as he came, stickiness coating her hand.
Belatedly, Hermione recalled that she wanted to be more than a casual hook up to him and she sighed as he rested his forehead against the middle of her chest for a long moment, catching his breath.
"Are you alright?" he asked hoarsely a minute later, lifting his head to peer at her.
"I'm perfect," Hermione purred, slowly releasing his cock and smiling contentedly. Her tongue ran away from her brain before she could stop it, blurting out things she didn't mean to say. "Can I be the one to wake you every morning from now on?"
Remus shot her a sexy, contented smile before lifting himself off of her as she blushed. Her hand was sticky, she realised when he moved, and he reached for it to clean it for her but before he could, Hermione brought it to her mouth. She didn't even really think about it. Remus's eyes were fixed on her like he'd devour her when her little pink tongue darted out to lick the sticky come from her palm.
"Bloody hell," he groaned softly, watching her clean her hand almost absently. "You'll be the death of me, Granger. I swear it."
Hermione squeaked when he took her hand from her mouth and claimed her lips hungrily all over again. If he minded the taste of himself on her tongue, he didn't show it. She almost lost herself in the kiss too, until she felt his hands sliding her shorts down over her hips like he meant to remove them so he could have his wicked way with her and Hermione caught his wrists.
"We're both going to be late for work," she muttered against his lips.
"Ah, shit!" Remus cursed, his whole body tensing. Evidently, he'd forgotten he had a job to get to.
"Off," she laughed when he glanced between her face and the door rapidly, as though debating whether it was worth being late on his first day. "Quickly, before you distract me all over again. You need breakfast. And a shower."
"I don't have time," he muttered even as he rolled off of her, tucking himself back into his jeans as he went.
Hermione sat up, fighting the urge she had to wrap herself around his back when he sat on the edge of the bed, trying to wake up and trying to regain some semblance of self-control as he reached for his shirt. She slipped off the side of the bed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as she stood, before hurrying out the door.
"There's breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen, and your lunch is packed and waiting on the counter, Remus," she called over her shoulder, hurrying into her own room and ripping her tank top off over her head before stepping out of her shorts.
Hermione spun in a circle, searching for a bra and something decent to wear to work. She hadn't been given a uniform for the job, so she'd have to wing it. Settling for a pair of snug-fitting bell-bottom jeans she'd bought whilst shopping the day before and a pink collared shirt with a navy cardigan over it, she figured Mr Blott would tell her if it was no good and she'd just be able to run back up the stairs to change.
She was wriggling into her jeans, topless, when she heard Remus groan from the doorway. Glancing over, Hermione clapped her hands over her boobs when she found him, piece of toast in one hand, his eyes fixed upon her half-naked form, and heat glittering in his eyes.
"Don't look at me like that," she warned him. "Work. We have to get to work. Eat your breakfast and use a cleaning charm on yourself. You haven't got time to shower, now."
"I can't go into my job wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday," he argued.
"Wear this," Hermione said, summoning her beaded bag from the bedside table and digging inside it for one of the jumpers he'd once left at Grimmauld Place in the life she'd left behind. Grey and knitted, it would likely be a bit big on his lithe frame, but it would look nice.
"You just have clothes for men on hand in that magic little bag of yours, eh?" he asked, taking the blue button-up shirt she tossed him and pulling the grey cardigan over the top.
"If you don't want them, leave them here and go home for your own stuff," she rolled her eyes, noting the way he smelled the cardigan when she tossed it to him. She knew he'd wear it. His own scent clung to it, mixed with hers thanks to the number of times she'd worn it whilst on the run with Harry during the war. She'd liked feeling close to him when she wore it and the scent of himself would confuse Moony long enough that he'd cooperate.
"I don't look very professional," he pointed out when he was dressed.
"You're working in a shop selling cauldrons, Remus," Hermione rolled her eyes, hurrying past him out the door to brush her teeth. "And you look handsome."
"These are muggle clothes."
"Oh, they are not. Everything in the wizarding world is not billowing robes and stuffy suits. You look normal. You look good."
"You got a spare one of those?" he asked, following her into the bathroom and gulping down tea while she scrubbed her teeth.
Digging into her beaded bag once more, Hermione pulled out a packet of spare toothbrushes, having learned during the war that a freshly scrubbed set of teeth could make all the difference to one's mood, sometimes. She handed him a fresh brush and the paste, leaning over to spit in the sink and liking that he wasn't at all awkward about what they'd done in the bedroom.
He scrubbed his teeth clean beside her, looking mildly amused as she attempted to fight with the mess that was her hair. Hermione regretted having gone to bed with it wet. Sighing in annoyance, she settled for pulling it into a messy bun on the top of her head, leaving a few tendrils loose. She looked relaxed and comfortable, she decided when she regarded her appearance whilst spritzing some perfume on herself. And that was just fine. No one wanted a stuffy and uptight bookshop clerk. Relaxed, friendly and approachable was much more acceptable.
"Ready?" he asked, watching her put her shoes on in the living room while he grabbed both bags of their packed lunches.
"You want to exit through the shop?" Hermione offered nodding her assent as she slipped her shoes on.
"If that's alright? If not, I'll Floo to work."
"That's fine. Though Flooing is faster," she pointed out.
"I've got five minutes. The owner won't be there yet," he said, consulting his pocket-watch and making Hermione smile. She adored how comfortable he seemed with her.
"Come on, then," she said, taking his hand and tugging him out the door to the stairs that led down into the shop.
"Your boss won't mind the idea of you having some bloke wandering through the shop from your flat?" he asked. "I can take the other stairs directly to the street, if you'd prefer."
"Considering the fight Mr Blott had with his wife yesterday afternoon before shooing me out of the store, and the fact that he came back from lunch tipsy, I'd say he's probably too hungover this morning to arrive until at least ten," Hermione assured her favourite werewolf.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Hermione let them both into the shop, wincing when she noticed there were a number of books in the incorrect spot, having been thrown by Mrs Blott, she suspected.
Remus looked around, seeming surprised by the state of the shop, too.
"Lucky I'm early," Hermione muttered.
"You don't have to be here yet?" he asked, frowning at her. "We didn't drag you out of bed and out of your flat, did we? I could've taken the Floo if you didn't have to be here yet."
"I prefer to be here early in the event that things like this need handling before we open," Hermione shrugged, smiling at him. "And I wouldn't have been able to sleep after James screamed in my ear."
"Bloody git, he is," Remus nodded, eyeing her critically. "But you look like you could've done with another half hour's rest."
"You always know just what to say," Hermione rolled her eyes, teasing him.
"Right… Yeah, that was a bit out of order, I guess," he chuckled. "You don't look bad. Just tired."
"I look bad, Remus. I have done for a while. It's what happens when you function on less than four hours sleep a night. I'll catch up on the missed sleep eventually," Hermione waved his concerns away.
"I think you look nice," he assured her.
"Now you're just flattering me," she laughed. "Go on, before you're late on your first day." She nodded him out the door.
Remus eyed her curiously for a moment, his hand coming up to cup her cheek tenderly. Hermione nipped the pad of his thumb when he traced the shape of her lower lip affectionately. She liked the little growl of surprise that escaped him every time she did it. When he leaned down and captured her lips gently with his own, Hermione sighed softly. Minty fresh and delicious, she was sure she could spend all day long simply kissing him. He kissed her lightly, refraining from deepening the kiss and instead simply brushing his lips over hers repeatedly.
"Friday, you said?" he asked huskily when he pulled away. "Dinner?"
Hermione smiled, nodding, wondering if he would actually turn up.
"What are you planning to make?" he wanted to know, his lips twitching as though he were amused by something.
"Something I'm certain you'll like," Hermione replied, thinking of the number of times she'd watched him eat his favourite dish with delight. "If you turn up, that is."
Remus pulled back slowly, eyeing her.
"You don't think I will?" he asked, lifting one eyebrow.
"I'll believe it when I see it," Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "But I will, potentially, fling something at you if you stand me up."
"Threats?" he laughed.
Hermione didn't reply, watching him pull away as he backed toward the door, needing to leave but apparently not wanting to just yet.
"You think I'll be able to stay away?" he lifted one eyebrow. "After that?"
He pointed toward the roof, obviously referring to what they'd done in her flat.
"Have a good first day, Remus," Hermione wished him rather than mentioning it, her cheeks cutting crimson at the reminder.
"I'll see you Friday, gealai," he promised. "If not before."
Hermione watched him let himself out of the shop and hurry down the street, wondering if she dared to trust a hope that he'd keep his word.
