A/N: It feels like forever since I last updated… So sorry for the long wait, but here it is! I hope you enjoy :)

Hermione's professors made it very clear that this year would be a difficult one for the seventh years, and if the amount of homework they'd assigned so far this first week of term were anything to go by, it seemed it certainly would be. But while many of her classmates were groaning over their heavy workload and dreading the busy times ahead, Hermione couldn't have been happier. Especially on the morning before her first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year. Her elation did not go unnoticed.

"Wow, Hermione. You're positively radiant," Ginny said at breakfast, staring at her in disbelief. "How can you be this excited about school?"

Her excitement had less to do with school and everything to do with the prospect of staying behind after D.A.D.A. class later to speak with Remus for the first time since her time traveling adventure and to tell him how glad she was he'd returned to Hogwarts, but she told her friend, "Well, after last year, of course I'm excited to be at school again! Aren't you?"

"I suppose," Ginny said rather unenthusiastically, and Hermione knew she was probably thinking about being apart from Harry.

"It's fun that you and I have classes together now, anyway," Hermione said to distract her. For lessons this year, the members from her class who had decided to return to Hogwarts to finish or repeat their seventh year were being grouped together with Ginny's.

"Yeah, it is," Ginny agreed, her face lighting up. "I'm finally getting to see firsthand what Ron has been teasing you about all these years."

The youngest Weasley certainly was able to witness Hermione in her element during Transfiguration, their first class that day. Ginny grinned at her friend when her practiced hand shot high into the air before their new teacher, Professor Avila, a petite, dark-haired woman who gave an austere and haughty impression, even finished stating her first question. Hermione did this repeatedly throughout the lesson, and by the end of class Professor Avila actually appeared annoyed rather than impressed by her clever new student. She gave the Head Girl a coldly assessing look-over as she walked out the door, which momentarily disconcerted Hermione.

"I must say I appreciate Ron's imitations of you so much more now," Ginny laughed good-naturedly out in the corridor.

"I'm not that bad," Hermione said, though she knew she probably was.

The girls headed toward their next class, Hermione with butterflies in her belly, her anticipation swelling with every step. But when they reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they found Remus hadn't yet arrived. The door was open, though, so they and the rest of their classmates filed into the room, chattering away and claiming their preferred seats, Hermione and Ginny choosing a desk near the front of the room. They joined in conversation with their friends, but their chatter quickly died down as their professor entered the classroom not a minute later.

"Good morning," Remus greeted, and Hermione sat up straighter in her seat, unable to wipe the smile off her face as she watched him lay his tattered briefcase on the teacher's desk before her.

"Good morning, Professor Lupin," the class replied as one.

Remus's pleasant gaze swept over his students.

"You can put that away for now, Dean," he said to the Gryffindor, who had his wand out hopefully for a practical lesson. "You will need it later, I assure you, but first…"

Remus began to lecture and Hermione was grateful for the excuse to stare at him unabashedly. Wanting to make up for lost time, she eagerly took in the appearance of the older version of the young man she'd dated in the past, appreciating every detail of his lined but still handsome face, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled, the way his lips moved when he spoke.

He slowly paced back and forth along the front of the room as he addressed his students and she followed his lean form, his every movement. But when he briefly leaned against the teacher's desk, her gaze transferred to it instead, a vivid memory springing to mind. She and Remus had once been kissing passionately upon that very same desk…

Ginny elbowed her hard in the ribs. Startled, Hermione's gaze snapped to her friend, then whirled to where the redhead pointedly glanced. To her horror she found Remus looking at her expectantly.

"Hermione?" he repeated, and her face turned a brilliant shade of pink. He had obviously just asked her a question, counting on her ever reliable preparedness and participation, but she had been so distracted by the memory of kissing him that she'd failed to hear it.

"I — um — I don't know, Remus," she spluttered, feeling utterly disorientated. "I mean, Professor," she quickly corrected. She could feel her classmates gawking at her and heard a general murmur of gleeful surprise: Hermione "Miss Know-It-All" Granger didn't know the answer? It was unprecedented.

Remus frowned at her slightly and cast a curious glance at his desk before calling on Neville.

Hermione mentally thanked her friend for raising his hand and diverting the attention from her. She was mortified by her wayward thoughts. Ginny gave her a questioning look but Hermione carefully avoided her eyes.

For the rest of the class period, she had to work unusually hard to stay focused on the subject at hand and keep herself from succumbing to the memory of being with Remus. Too self-conscious now to stay after class like she had planned, she left in a hurry when the bell rang instead, hoping she wouldn't completely embarrass herself again next lesson.

The first week of term passed by in a busy blur for Remus, and before he knew it Sunday evening had arrived. He sat at the table in his living quarters at Hogwarts, idly swishing around the potion in his goblet, his mind wandering once again to his work. He was settling back comfortably into his old role as teacher and felt his lessons so far had gone fairly well. He only wished the full moon didn't have to come this particular weekend. He would have to miss class tomorrow and he hated to do so this soon after school had started. But it wasn't really up to him. He was simply a slave to the phases of the moon.

The bitter thought seemed to strengthen the acrid taste of the Wolfsbane Potion Professor Slughorn had brewed for him, and he had to force down the final few sips in his goblet. The potion tasted truly disgusting, but he was extremely grateful for it for alleviating some of the symptoms of his lycanthropy and helping him to keep his mind when he transformed. When he changed tonight, he would become something like a sleepy and ordinary wolf rather than the ravenous werewolf he usually became. Also, it was only thanks to this potion that he was allowed to teach here at Hogwarts. To the displeasure of many.

The fact that he'd returned as a professor had not been received well by everyone. Many parents and members of the wizarding community were outraged that a known werewolf was teaching their children, and a fair few of them had written letters to McGonagall, and to him personally, emphatically expressing their opinions on the matter. Remus understood their concern for the safety of their children, but he also knew that he posed no real danger to anyone so long as he was responsible about taking his Wolfsbane Potion when he was supposed to (not forgetting like he had that fateful night the last time he'd taught at Hogwarts, when the truth about Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew had been revealed), the only condition with which McGonagall had offered him his position.

Remus was extremely grateful and touched by the Headmistress's faith in him. She had expressed deep respect and the utmost confidence in him as a teacher during her attempts over the summer to convince him to return to his old post. She had also explained to him that he, as a werewolf already at least somewhat respected by many for his role in the Order of the Phoenix and Second Wizarding War, was in a unique position and had a certain responsibility to accept the job she offered so that he could help shift the public perception of his kind to something more favorable.

The vast majority of the wizarding world viewed people like him only as vicious creatures to be feared and shunned — understandable considering the examples set by notorious werewolves such as Fenrir Greyback. McGonagall hoped, however, that Remus would be able to combat some of the negative conceptions of his kind and provide a positive model as to how werewolves could safely integrate with and constructively contribute to the wizarding community if given the chance.

But would he be able to make any difference at all? He stared at the angry letters of disapproval on his table, remembered the wary whispers from some of his students the last few days… Could he possibly be able to help ease some the prejudice against his kind?

There was no use worrying about this now. Remus put aside the troubled thoughts that would only make his transformation worse and prepared himself for the full moon which would soon rise. Shortly after double-checking that the doors to his office, living quarters, and then bedroom were locked and secure with magic, he sensed his transformation coming on.

His body suddenly went rigid, but he felt something deep inside him stirring, shifting, tearing at him internally — a creature almost literally clawing its way out of its cage. He began to shake and staggered, overwhelmed with pure agony from the physical changes contorting him. Fur was sprouting all over his skin as his bones and his body lengthened, contracted, restructured, and he fell forward onto his front paws — a werewolf, reeling momentarily from the intensity of the transformation.

Bloodthirsty, animalistic urges coursed through him. But they were muted. He was groggy. He circled around, whining a bit, then curled up on an old blanket next to his bed. Covering his face with one of his paws, he tried for some sleep.

Hermione noted with concern Remus's tired eyes and pallid complexion during class on Tuesday. The full moon had just passed and her professor looked spent. She wanted to stay and talk to him after their lesson and make sure he was okay — she still hadn't had a chance to speak with him since arriving to Hogwarts, or rather, she still hadn't worked up enough courage to do so — but Ginny dragged her out of the classroom as soon as the bell dismissed them.

"What's going on? Why are you in such a hurry?" Hermione asked.

"Dean," Ginny said, glancing back over her shoulder. "I didn't want him to try to corner me again."

"Again? When did he corner you before?"

"Yesterday, after dinner. He congratulated me on being made Quidditch Captain and asked me when I'd be holding tryouts. But he… he also said some things. I think he wants to try to get back together with me."

"But you're with Harry."

"That's what I told him. But I think he thinks that since Harry's not here he might have a shot, and I'm afraid if he makes the team…it might make things a bit awkward."

"Ginny, I think you should—"

Hermione broke off when she heard Remus's name being hissed by a pair of fifth year Ravenclaws ahead of them in the corridor.

"…looked terrible, like he's had a rough few nights," the male Ravenclaw said. "And how do we know for sure what he's up to when he changes? How do we know he isn't sneaking off and attacking people? He is a werewolf and that's what they do, right? They want to turn people into horrid beasts like themselves so they can gather numbers and overtake us. I can't believe they're letting animals like that teach here. They should—"

What they should do, Hermione never found out because without even thinking or being aware of her actions in any way, she cursed the boy speaking ill of Remus.

The Ravenclaw bellowed out in pain, collapsing to the floor and clutching his chest. His female companion glanced around in confusion, then gaped at Hermione in shock and anger when she spotted her raised wand.

"What in Merlin's name…?" Professor Avila exclaimed as she came running out of a nearby classroom to survey the scene.

"She attacked him!" the Ravenclaw girl cried, glaring at Hermione incredulously as she knelt down next to her friend.

Professor Avila whipped around to face Hermione as well. "Of course! It had to be you, Miss Granger," the older witch spat, regarding her student antagonistically.

"He was making very disrespectful remarks about Professor Lupin," Ginny explained while Hermione stared with wide eyes at the boy she'd hurt.

"That does not give her the right to attack him!" Professor Avila replied severely. "I don't believe this. Detention, Miss Granger!"

"But Professor—"

"I don't want to hear it, Miss Weasley." Professor Avila waved her hand dismissively at Ginny and focused her beady eyes on Hermione. "Being Head Girl does not put you above the rules. I plan on taking this to the Headmistress. Maybe she can put an end to your abuse of power."

The Transfiguration teacher sent the Gryffindor girls away as she took care of the Ravenclaws, and Hermione walked numbly down toward the Great Hall with Ginny, who said indignantly, "What's her deal? Giving you detention without even letting you explain properly? That guy had it coming to him for talking about Lupin like that!"

"Professor Avila was right to give me detention," Hermione said quietly, unable to believe what she'd just done. What had gotten into her? Harry was the short-tempered and impulsive one, not her. She normally kept a cool head in these sorts of situations. But she'd reacted instinctively, angered to hear somebody speak that way about Remus.

"Maybe, but she definitely overreacted with the whole 'abuse of power' thing. And did you see how quickly she rounded on you?"

Hermione had indeed noticed that, and she also remembered the cold look Professor Avila had given her at the end of their first Transfiguration lesson, and a couple of times since then. She didn't understand what she'd done to get off to such a bad start with her new teacher, or how she'd gotten off to such a horrible start in general this year. First, she'd made a fool of herself in front of Remus and the rest of her class with that incident in Defense Against the Dark Arts last week, and now, only a few days into term, she'd landed herself in detention. Even worse, she had detention and she was Head Girl — the Head Girl wasn't supposed to get into trouble, she was supposed to be a model student! She was setting a very poor example so far.

The only positive she could come up with when she received a note later informing her of her detention time and place (Friday evening, Transfiguration classroom) was that she'd have a chance to talk to Professor Avila one on one, figure out what she'd done to get in her bad books, and hopefully start fresh with her. Still, over the next few days, Hermione couldn't help but dread her upcoming detention, which had annoyingly complicated her carefully planned study schedule, and wonder exactly what Professor Avila had in mind for her punishment. She remembered Ron once having to clean the bedpans in the Hospital Wing without using magic — she would very much prefer something like writing lines.

When Friday evening finally came around, Hermione, hoping for anything other than bedpans, made her way to the Transfiguration classroom ready to face Professor Avila and whatever unpleasant task she would have to do.

"Professor Avila—?" she started, stepping into the room then stopping dead in her tracks.

"Good evening, Hermione."

Glancing up at her from his seat at the teacher's desk was Remus.

Hermione blinked, feeling unnervingly disoriented again. What was he doing here? Or had she stumbled to the wrong place, her heart subconsciously leading her feet to his classroom instead of the Transfiguration one? She hastily looked around. No, this was the right room.

"Good evening," she replied tentatively. "I'm supposed to meet Professor Avila…"

"Professor Avila had an urgent matter to attend to," Remus informed her, setting aside the note he'd been reading. "I offered to oversee your detention in her place."

"Oh" was all Hermione could think of to say.

"You can take a seat if you like," he said, motioning toward the desk before his.

Realizing she was still standing uncertainly near the doorway, Hermione went and slipped into the seat he'd indicated.

Remus hesitated before speaking again. "Actually, I wanted to speak with you, Hermione. I heard about what happened, why you got into trouble. I know it was because of me."

"That boy was being disrespectful," she said quietly.

"He's only one of many who don't like that I'm here—"

"But there are also a lot of people who do like that you're here," she swiftly pointed out.

"Nonetheless, those who don't have valid viewpoints."

"I don't think they do. You're not really a danger to anyone while taking Wolfsbane Potion, and the way that boy was speaking…he was terribly misinformed about werewolves. And about you. And it just isn't right! People shouldn't be so prejudiced and so — so ignorant!" she finished vehemently.

Remus studied her, an unreadable expression on his face.

"You are truly extraordinary," he said after a moment, and faint blush rose to Hermione's cheeks. "You, Harry, and Ron have a peculiar propensity to befriend and defend those whom most of the wizarding world would reject or deem inferior: giants, house-elves, werewolves…"

"I think it's the rest of the world that's peculiar."

"Maybe so. Still, you shouldn't be cursing people in the corridors because of that. I appreciate you wanting to defend me, Hermione, but don't get yourself into trouble on my account, all right?"

"All right."

Remus picked up the piece of parchment he'd set aside earlier.

"Well, I suppose…" he said slowly, contemplating the note, "I suppose I'll let you go then. So you can enjoy the rest of your evening."

Hermione frowned as he grabbed a quill and scribbled something on the parchment. "What about my detention?"

"I'm cutting it short."

"Cutting it short?" she repeated with disappointment. After being unable to have a word with him all term, besides her uncharacteristic blunders in his class, she was finally alone with Remus and wanted to be in his company for as long as she could. "But… but Professor Avila would probably want… I mean, I did break the rules and I should probably serve the detention she…" Hermione trailed off, realizing it must be odd for a student to request a lengthier detention time.

"I admire your respect for the rules," Remus said with a small smile, "but the task Professor Avila assigned for you tonight is tedious, rather unpleasant, and I think unnecessary. I believe the disruption this detention caused to your study schedule is probably punishment enough for you. So you're free to go. I'm sure there are plenty of other things you'd rather be doing and I have a few matters to take care of as well."

Hermione couldn't think of anything else she'd rather do or anywhere else she'd rather be than right here with him, but he gathered his things and made to leave and she followed suit, not wanting to keep him from whatever he needed to do.

"Enjoy your weekend, Hermione," he said, holding the classroom door open for her.

Hermione paused as she passed him on the threshold. Peering up at her professor, she found he was somehow more attractive now than he'd been as a young man, age and the confidence that came along with it serving him well. Yet although his physical appearance had changed a bit with maturity — his hair graying, his face becoming lined — the look in his eyes was nearly the same as it had been in the past. She wondered, her glance sliding down to his lips against her will, if his kiss would feel the same…

"Everything all right?" he asked, and Hermione blinked.

"Oh — um, yes, everything's fine," she said, flushing as she realized she and her gaze on him had lingered far too long. "Er — enjoy your weekend as well."

They parted ways, Hermione reluctantly taking off down the corridor in the opposite direction as her professor.

A/N: Thanks so much for the follows and faves, and a special thank you to each of you lovely reviewers! I really appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts!