Having Hermione as his assistant proved to be much more helpful than Remus had anticipated. With the large turnout of students ready and eager to practice at last Friday's Defense Club meeting, he would have been in over his head without her. But that first meeting had been a success, and he felt confident he'd get his students to where they needed to be by the end of the year with Hermione's help, and with the help of the Room of Requirement.
The extraordinary room had met the club's needs perfectly, transforming itself into a large space ideal for practicing spells and providing them with valuable resources and supplies. And if they required additional supplies, they simply had to concentrate on what they needed and the room would provide it. He and Hermione had had fun testing this out before the first club meeting, but what they'd both been really drawn to were the hundreds of books on defensive magical tactics that filled the wooden bookcases lining the walls. They'd spent a good deal of time browsing through them and had only stopped when students began to arrive and they'd had to start the meeting.
Remus returned to the Room of Requirement early again this Friday evening to continue exploring its library before the Defense Club was set to meet for the second time. Not knowing where to start, he ran a finger along the spines of the leather-bound tomes and chose a book at random.
He was leafing through the pages of Jinxes for the Jinxed when suddenly and instinctively he straightened up, head cocked, muscles tense: he'd caught a scent — a distinctive, intensely alluring scent. Without turning around, he knew Hermione had entered the room.
He'd become uncomfortably familiar with her scent recently. It had completely caught him off guard the first time he'd noticed it. On the morning of the first day of classes, in the days preceding last month's full moon, he'd detected a dangerously tempting scent through the open door of his office, and, without conscious thought, he'd darted out into the corridor in pursuit of the subject of his desire. The hunt ended moments later when he'd spotted Hermione walking with her friends ahead of him. He'd stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide and his face warm upon realizing it was her scent he'd been tracking.
He'd returned to his office, unnerved by how strongly he'd been affected by her and bewildered as to why he'd perceived her scent at all. He wasn't supposed to be hypersensitive to a woman's scent like that, not while he was taking Wolfsbane Potion. The potion was supposed to alleviate the symptoms of his lycanthropy and inhibit the animalistic traits and instincts that typically displayed themselves when the full moon approached, and it usually did just that. It normally worked faultlessly, like a dream — except when it came to Hermione, apparently.
Like he'd done for his first class with the seventh year Gryffindors, Remus had mentally prepared himself today for his reaction to Hermione. He'd always been good at suppressing his wolfish impulses and maintaining his self-control, even when he hadn't had the luxury of Wolfsbane Potion, so he wasn't worried when Hermione joined him by the bookcases now.
"Hi, Remus," she said brightly. "I just overheard a group of fifth years talking about Defense Club and how helpful last week's meeting was. They seemed really excited about it. And everyone seemed to love the duel we did for demonstration."
"I suppose watching your teacher nearly getting bested by his assistant would be rather amusing," he replied good-humoredly.
Hermione grinned. "I know you're still going easy on me, but I've been getting some helpful suggestions all week about what jinxes I should use the next time we duel. Neville and Dean want me to try Tarantallegra on you. For some reason, they really want to see you dance."
Remus laughed. "For everyone else's sake, I hope you don't humor those two. I'm a terrible dancer, even with the Dancing Feet Spell."
"That's not true. I saw you dancing at Bill and Fleur's wedding. You weren't bad at all."
An image popped into his mind of Hermione that night, and it surprised him how vividly he remembered the way she'd looked in that lilac-colored dress she'd been wearing… He wished she hadn't mentioned it.
"They asked if we'd be doing a repeat performance tonight," Hermione continued. "I thought it best to leave them in suspense, so I told them they'd have to wait until the meeting to find out."
Remus checked his watch. "The meeting's not for a while yet." A while he'd have to spend struggling with her scent, her presence. "You're early."
"Oh — I'm sorry," she said, looking embarrassed and taking a step back. "I didn't mean to — to disturb you—"
"You didn't, not at all. I just didn't expect to see you until later. But I'm glad you're here. I like you coming in early."
Merlin's beard, what was he saying? But Hermione's smile returned.
"Well, I couldn't resist," she said. "The books," she quickly added. "I couldn't resist the books." She turned to the bookshelves, her gaze roaming over the rows of volumes. "I was looking through one last week about fear and how important it is to be able to control your emotions in dangerous situations so you can better control your magic and power. It said fear especially could either defeat you or provide you strength depending on how you harness it. I'd like to give it a read. It reminded me of something Harry once said..."
Hermione swept her long brown hair back over her shoulder as she searched the shelves for the book she wanted, and Remus's eyes closed briefly as he inhaled her tantalizing scent.
"I don't remember what it was called, but it was a skinny red book. Have you seen it? It was around here somewhere."
She glanced back at him when he didn't answer her, and he started guiltily. Then he shook his head, not in reply but in an attempt to rid himself of the less than pure thoughts taking over it.
"I — uh, no, I haven't. I'll help you look."
He scanned the shelves for the skinny red one Hermione sought and quickly found one matching the description. He reached for it at the same time she did, and his hand covered hers — an impulse more powerful than any he'd ever experienced surged through him at the contact. But was the impulse to bite or — or to do something else? He didn't know. Sometimes the two instincts intertwined and it became difficult to discern one from the other. Either way, the alarmed Remus promptly retracted his hand and stepped away from Hermione.
Oblivious to his panic, she pulled the book off the shelf and examined it. "Perfect. This is it."
Remus's knuckles went white as his grip tightened around his own book. He'd greatly underestimated the affect Hermione could have on him. Teaching her in a classroom full of people was quite a different matter than being with her here in this room, alone…
Hermione looked up at him and her chocolate brown eyes grew concerned. "Is something wrong, Remus?"
He shook his head again and managed to tensely utter, "I'm fine."
Then, against every instinct, against every fiber of his being that wanted nothing more than to get closer to her, that was irresistibly drawn to Hermione by some force greater than himself and his careful self-restraint, Remus turned away from her, unable to hold her gaze while the wolf inside him struggled for release. His confidence in his self-control wavered, replaced by a rising panic.
"Remus?" she said cautiously, and he feared she'd seen the shadow of the wolf upon his face just as clearly as he felt it thrashing about inside him. He'd never felt like this before, didn't know what he was capable of doing. He had to leave—
Just then, a group of Gryffindors entered the Room of Requirement. Relief flooded Remus at their sudden appearance, at the distraction they provided, but it took him several moments to clear his head enough to remember the Defense Club meeting they were all here for. As he returned the cheerful greetings of the students who had, to his great fortune, arrived early for it, he mentally noted he should never be alone with Hermione again in the days preceding the full moon.
The sight of the waning moon outside his window comforted Remus more than usual this month. He'd been on edge ever since his encounter with Hermione in the Room of Requirement a few days ago, disconcerted by how much she'd affected him. He hoped Hermione hadn't noticed. And if she had, he hoped she understood it was just a symptom of his lycanthropy that had made him behave so strangely, it wasn't him.
It was troubling how much he'd felt the presence of the wolf within him while he was around her. He didn't understand it, and he hated to think of what he might have done if he'd completely lost his sense of self. He didn't want to think about it. He wanted to get away from the castle, clear his mind, so he journeyed down to Hogsmeade in search of a drink.
Along his way to the Three Broomsticks, he remembered how depleted his stash of chocolate was. He changed course, directing himself toward Honeydukes instead to restock his supply before they closed for the night. Inside the sweetly aromatic shop, he made a beeline for the selection of dark chocolate, then headed to the counter, arms full of his favorite sweets. An unfamiliar blonde woman greeted him. Remus looked around, disappointed by the absence of the old couple who owned the place. It had been a long time since he'd last visited Mrs. Flume, who had always been very kind to him, ever since his days as a Hogwarts student and even after she'd learned he was a werewolf a few years back.
"Looking for someone?" asked the blonde woman behind the counter.
"Mrs. Flume. Is she here?"
The blonde shook her head. "She and her husband are on holiday. Are you a friend of hers? Do you need to reach her?"
"No, I'm just a longtime customer and wanted to say hello."
"May I ask your name?"
"Remus Lupin."
The woman paused in bagging his items for purchase, her eyes lighting up. "Remus Lupin? She's told me about you. You're one of Auntie's favorites."
"You're her niece?"
"That's right. I'm Vivienne." She extended her hand and he politely took it. "Glad to meet you. I can see Auntie wasn't exaggerating when she said you're a chocolate fiend."
"Well, it's out of my control, really."
She smiled and handed over his bags of sweets. "She really is very fond of you. No need for that," she said, glancing down at the money he'd taken out to pay. "This one's on the house."
"Oh, no, you don't have to…" Remus demurred.
"Keep it." She wrapped her hand over his, folding his fingers over the coins on his palm. "You'll need that to buy me a drink."
"Pardon?"
"It's been slow here tonight, so I'm closing up early and heading over to the Three Broomsticks. Care to join me?"
Remus hesitated. Vivienne was a very attractive woman, perhaps in her early thirties, with bright and teasing eyes and full, sensual lips. And he was gray-haired and still a bit peaky from his recent transformation… Why would she want to have drinks with him?
If Sirius were alive, he'd surely smack him upside the head for turning the woman down like this, but Remus offered her some excuse about having to get back to the castle to finish up some work he needed to get done by tomorrow.
"You're a teacher?" Vivienne asked, unfazed by his refusal. "That's fitting." She tilted her head as she studied him. "You're intelligent, sophisticated, authoritative…"
Remus wouldn't have described himself that way and was surprised as to why she did. "Did your aunt tell you that?"
"No, your choice of sweets did — dark chocolate. My favorite is chocolate filled with caramel, which makes me adventurous and fun-loving. I also happen to be intuitive, and right now I sense you're in need of a break, being the hard worker that you are." Vivienne pulled on her coat and stepped around the counter. "Come with me, Professor Lupin," she said, taking his hand. "I promise you, I'm great company."
Her lips curved into an easy smile, and Remus, who'd been planning on going to the pub anyway and supposed it wouldn't hurt to have some company, allowed her to lead him away.
At the Three Broomsticks, Remus learned Vivienne's description of herself was quite accurate. She proved to be great company with her wit, charm, and wicked sense of humor. He had a good time with her and she seemed to enjoy herself as well.
When they said goodbye at the end of the night, she kissed the corner of his mouth and suggested they get together again soon. In that moment, Remus felt a thrill of delight at the prospect of seeing her again, a glimmer of possibility. But like nearly every other time he'd gone out with a woman, that hopeful glimmer quickly faded away.
As he walked back to the castle, his path illuminated by the silvery-white moon hanging high in the night sky, a subtle melancholy stole over him instead. He contemplated whether he should see Vivienne again, whether he should open that door and begin whatever it was that the future might hold for the pair of them. Because if something were to develop between them, he knew where it would ultimately lead, knew that it would end, the same way any romantic relationship he were to ever have would have to end. This knowledge was the reason why he'd never been seriously involved with anybody before.
He'd never allowed himself the chance to fall in love — why would he when he knew it could only end in heartache? He was a werewolf and no woman would want to be with him once he revealed his wolfish nature, and he wouldn't want to burden anyone with his curse anyway. The stigma attached to creatures like him, the danger — he'd never put anybody through that, least of all the woman he loved.
In his bedroom that night, Remus closed the curtains over his window, shutting out the sight of the waning moon that had comforted him earlier. It only taunted him now. He had long ago accepted he'd never have a normal life, but at times like these an old bitterness crept up on him and threatened to take hold of him, and he wished he'd never been bitten. But wishing was useless. Nothing could cure his furry little problem, nothing could change his cursed fate, not Vivienne or anybody else.
As much as he hated to admit it, his lycanthropy dominated his life, dominated him, and while the wolf reigned inside him, he could never be normal and have a family of his own. He could never know the happiness that others knew and so often took for granted. He could never fall in love or be loved in return. And more than the excruciating pain racking his body during his monthly transformations, more than the stinging disgrace cast upon him by society, that reality was what killed him the most.
A/N: A bit of a depressing end to the chapter, I know.
I was originally inspired to write this fic after reading Remus's backstory on Pottermore (he's such a tragic character and I wanted to give him an ending where he didn't die right after finally finding his happiness). I thought it was heartbreaking how he convinced himself he should never marry and denied himself the chance at love for so long because he thought himself so unclean and unworthy. Let's see what Hermione can do about that…