Guilt and shame gnawed at Remus during class with the seventh year Gryffindors. Hermione wouldn't look at him. Every time his gaze landed on her as he lectured, hers was downcast, intent on the notes she was silently taking. Never once did she raise her hand or answer a question. Never once did her eyes meet his.

He knew she was angry with him. He knew she must be appalled and disgusted by the way he'd behaved that night in his living quarters, and he couldn't blame her for it. He felt the same way. He'd crossed a line and had been too ashamed and cowardly to speak to her since she'd returned to Hogwarts after Harry recovered.

He stayed away from her now as well as she and her classmates practiced in pairs during the practical part of the lesson. He realized, though, he probably should have talked things out with her before they'd had to face each other in class today, to try to make things less awkward between them, because her classmates couldn't have failed to notice her pronounced silence and the way she and her professor were avoiding each other.

But Remus knew he and Hermione couldn't avoid each other forever. They had yet to get together this week to discuss their plans for Defense Club on Friday, and as the class period was coming to a close, Remus decided this was as good a time as any to do that. Although they normally met in his office and spent the better part of the evening together planning these practice sessions and just talking, he feared after what had happened between them they might never do that again. He was devastated at the thought. Those hours he spent with her were the best part of his week.

"Hermione," he said at the end of the lesson, "could you stay a moment, please? I'd like to have a word with you about Defense Club."

As he'd feared — because the last thing he wanted was for there to be any talk about him and Hermione — some of his students glanced curiously between him and the Head Girl on their way out of the classroom.

Remus nervously watched Hermione join him by his desk, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She clearly didn't want to be anywhere near him, so he quickly informed her what they'd be doing at the next meeting, keeping this conversation as brief as possible. She nodded along curtly as he talked but still wouldn't look at him directly.

"So is that all then?" she asked brusquely when he finished speaking. "Can I go now?"

"Yes, that's all."

She'd already begun to stride away from him when Remus changed his mind.

"No, wait, Hermione. There is another matter we need to discuss."

She stopped and turned her head slightly so that he had a glimpse of her profile. "And what matter is that?"

"The reason why you're angry with me," he said tentatively. "We need to talk about — about what happened last week, that night…"

"I'd rather we didn't."

"Hermione, please, let me explain—"

"Explain what exactly?" she said, whipping around like a sudden shift in a furious wind. "What could you possibly have to say to me about that?"

Her eyes had met his at last and now he wished they hadn't. Hurt fueled her glare more than anything else.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. You have every right to be upset—"

"Of course I'm upset! I didn't think you were — And I can't believe you — you — you and her!"

His contrition turned to confusion. "Her?"

"Yes, her!"

Remus stared at her uncomprehendingly. "Who? What are you—?"

"No one. Nothing. It doesn't matter anymore," she snapped, a bitter edge to her voice, and she turned away from him.

"Hermione, wait." He reached for her without thinking but immediately pulled back again. He wasn't supposed to touch her. "I'm sorry," he said earnestly as she reluctantly faced him once more. "For the way I behaved toward you that night in my quarters," he elaborated to make sure they had the same incident in mind. "It was completely inappropriate and I can't apologize enough for scaring you and making you uncomfortable. I promise you that won't happen again."

She bit her lip as she contemplated him. Then in a soft voice she said, "You weren't yourself that night."

"No, I wasn't."

"It was just the wolf. You would never kiss me."

He wanted to desperately, but, "No," he reassured her. "I wouldn't."

For some reason, her face fell. "I understand," she said, nodding slightly and lowering her gaze. "I… I have to go."

She didn't seem angry anymore, but she looked somehow deflated as she started toward the door. When she reached it, she paused and looked back at him. "I should probably tell you George Weasley will be my date next Saturday night."

Remus frowned. Why on earth should she tell him that? Then he remembered the upcoming dance. Since George did not attend Hogwarts he'd have to be approved by him, Hermione's Head of House, in order to be allowed to attend the dance as a guest.

"I'm sure you approve?" she said.

Not in the least, but he replied, "Of course. So long as he passes Filch's inspection with the Secrecy Sensor upon entering the castle."

"Great." And with that settled, she left the classroom.

Remus stood there, peeved by the mention of George and bewildered by Hermione's earlier words. They'd clearly had different incidents in mind at the start of their conversation. What had she been thinking of? What else had he done last week to make her so upset? Who was the 'her' she'd referred to?

Could it be Vivienne? But Hermione had been at St. Mungo's at the time and so she couldn't have known about Vivienne's visit to Hogwarts. And even if she did know, why would she care? Could it be that the idea of him with another woman displeased her just as the thought of her with George displeased him?

He doubted it. It was much more likely he'd be the only one suffering next Saturday night.

Talk of the dance dominated the chatter in the corridors the following week. Anticipation for the event steadily escalated as Saturday drew nearer and the students' excitement peaked when the evening of the dance finally arrived.

Hermione was not nearly as excited as everyone else, but she took special care in getting herself ready that night. She didn't know why. She'd never be able to compare to Vivienne. The older witch was gorgeous and curvy and sensual in a way she could never be. Still, she wanted to look her absolute best tonight.

And when she descended the marble staircase alongside Ginny and Luna, wearing her blush pink dress and her hair in soft side-swept waves, and George's jaw dropped when he spotted her from the entrance hall, Hermione felt she had succeeded.

"Wow, Hermione," George said as she reached him. "You look… Wow."

She smiled. She couldn't remember a time she'd ever seen a Weasley twin lost for words like this. "You look dashing yourself."

Harry and Ron — Ginny and Luna's dates — were also taken by the girls' dolled up appearances.

Ron blinked rapidly at the sight of Luna in her sky blue dress. "You look great!"

Luna beamed. "Thanks. You do as well. Though I'm a bit disappointed you're not wearing the same costume you wore to the Yule Ball. I've heard such funny stories about those dress robes and I think I would have liked to see them."

Harry and George snorted, and even Ron smiled a bit at the memory of his ridiculous old dress robes.

"I'm so happy you're here," Hermione told Harry as she hugged him. "I'm glad you decided to come after all."

He had hesitated to come tonight because of all the attention he'd been receiving recently from his latest brush with death. But for the most part, the students at Hogwarts were being respectful and leaving him be.

"Me too. It's great to be back in this place. It looks like home again," Harry said, looking around at the familiar entrance hall which had been battle-worn and nearly unrecognizable less than a year ago. "And it's nice being back here just for the fun and not having to worry about homework."

Ron agreed, and Hermione said, "As I remember it, you two were never overly concerned with your homework anyway."

"Well, that was one of the perks of having you as a best friend," Ron replied. "You were concerned enough for the three of us. Don't know where I'd be without your helping hand."

"I don't know if I helped you or hurt you by bailing you out all those times that I did."

"Yeah, how do you get along without her now when you have to do paperwork at the Auror Office?" Ginny asked her brother.

"Hey, I've grown up a bit, I can handle more responsibility. I'm not so lazy and immature as I was when I was one of these kids." Then, gawking at the younger students milling around them, Ron asked, "Were we ever that scrawny-looking and acne-prone?"

"You still are, little brother," George replied, clapping him on the back.

Their banter continued as their party of six headed into the Great Hall. The grand room was decorated fabulously for the occasion, in honor of Valentine's Day the following day. Pink and silver satin draped the walls and starry ceiling and the long House tables were replaced by small, round lantern-lit tables sprinkled with heart-shaped confetti.

They joined Neville and his girlfriend, Hannah Abbott, for dinner at a table near the larger table at the top of the hall where the staff was seated. While Ginny pushed her food around her plate and grumbled about not wanting to eat too much because of the unforgiving dress she was wearing, Hermione's gaze swept over her professors until she spotted Remus. She was surprised not to see Vivienne by his side.

"To hell with it. I don't care if I have a food baby later, I'm starving," Ginny said and began digging into her dinner with relish.

Hermione laughed and followed her lead without hesitation.

Shortly after they'd enjoyed their delicious dinner, a band trooped onto the stage that had been set up along the right wall. Hermione applauded along with everyone else, excited for them to play, until Neville tapped her on the shoulder.

"Ready?" he asked. Upon seeing her blank expression, he added, "We're supposed to open the dance, remember?"

"Oh right," she said, quickly getting to her feet as the music started. But she wasn't too keen to fulfill this particular duty of the Head Boy and Girl. Although she'd had to open the Yule Ball as well, she hadn't minded that as much because she and Krum were one of four pairs in the spotlight. Now it was only her and Neville.

"Watch where you put those hands, Longbottom," George teased as the pair started toward the dance floor. "I'm watching you."

Hermione tried not to look out at her schoolmates as she and Neville proceeded to the center of the room and began to dance. She focused instead on trying not to trip over her dress while everybody was watching them. Neville appeared to be concentrating on his steps as well.

"I'm nervous. Are you nervous?" she whispered to him.

"Yeah, I'm a terrible dancer. I think I stepped on Ginny's toes about a hundred times at the Yule Ball. So, sorry in advance."

"Don't worry. You're doing great."

He only trod on her toes twice before George cut in and Neville went to dance with Hannah.

"What are you grinning about?" Hermione asked her beaming date.

"I'm grinning because I'm a very lucky man to be here dancing with you," George replied. "You look amazing tonight. You always look pretty, but you look especially lovely like this. If Remus doesn't come to his senses and realize he's in love with you tonight, he's a fool."

Hermione smiled. Although she knew Remus didn't care as much about looks as most guys and probably couldn't care less if she used Sleekeazy's Hair Potion or not — his younger self had actually told her he liked her bushy hair — she supposed it didn't hurt to look nice tonight.

"Speaking of our favorite professor," George said, "he's staring at you."

Hermione furtively glanced past the dancing couples beside them to where Remus was sitting and talking with Hagrid.

"He's not," she said, turning back to George.

"He was. I bet he'll be chasing after you to declare his love by the end of the night."

"You shouldn't get my hopes up like this. What if that doesn't happen?"

"Then at least you'll have had a wonderfully fun time with me."

When the song came to an end, Hermione and George headed back to their group of friends who were standing at the edge of dance floor now and talking to Hagrid, his date Madame Maxine, and Remus. Hermione was too distracted admiring her Defense professor to join in her friends' chatter. He looked exceptionally handsome tonight in his perfectly fitted black jacket and trousers.

Ginny grinned when she caught her staring at him. Then, during a pause in the conversation, the redhead gave her a sly wink and said, "Merlin's beard, Hermione! I just can't get over how incredible you look in that dress! She's stunning, isn't she?"

Hermione's face went pink as the entire group's attention focused on her, and everyone agreed with Ginny and gave her flattering compliments. Everyone except for Remus. He stayed silent, taking a sip of his drink to excuse himself from having to respond, and Hermione couldn't help but feel disheartened. But when George asked her to dance again shortly after, she put on the brightest smile she could manage and took his hand.

George was a great dancer but a bit too exuberant for Hermione at times. Still, she had loads of fun dancing with her friends. Beside her, Luna twisted and twirled in her own unique style, and Ron was going along with her as best as anyone could, grinning often at his partner's quirkiness. Harry and Ginny's dance moves were less conspicuous than those of the other two couples, yet they were attracting by far the most attention. Harry, as always, was ogled at for being the Chosen One, and Ginny looked simply divine in her bold red dress. Nearly all the girls in her proximity were throwing her dirty looks for drawing their dates' eyes away from them.

Hermione's eyes also strayed. She stole glances at Remus whenever she could. He sat chatting with his fellow professors at the staff table the majority of the time, but he also danced a few songs with Madam Pomfrey, McGonagall, and Professor Avila. Hermione was pleased he hadn't brought Vivienne as his date but felt frustrated all the same because he still wasn't dancing with her.

The band struck up a slow tune, and as she swayed to the music with George, she wished it could be Remus's arms around her waist instead of his. She wished everyone in the hall would just disappear and leave her and Remus alone so they could finally have their dance together under this beautiful starry night ceiling. But with the situation as it was now between them, it seemed that could only ever happen in her dreams.

After Professor Flitwick cut in to his dance with Professor Avila, Remus returned to the staff table for a drink. He stood there at the top of the hall, swigging butterbeer and watching the band play before his attention was drawn to a group of goofy fourth years playing limbo with a girl's shawl. It was then that he sensed somebody approaching him.

"Hello, Remus."

His pulse quickened as he glanced right to see Hermione stepping beside him. He returned her greeting, but swiftly averted his gaze back to the dance floor. Ginny had been absolutely right earlier when she'd said Hermione looked stunning — she'd taken his breath away when he'd first seen her entering the Great Hall — but as much as he would have liked to admire her and the way she looked in that dress, he had to look away.

Hermione too gazed out at the dance floor, and they took in the scene before them without saying a word. Remus was afraid to speak first. He knew she was still upset with him, but he considered the act of her coming over and standing beside him, however quietly, as a good sign. They watched the goofy fourth years form a conga line and snake through the crowd of dancers. Their line quickly lengthened as other students joined in.

"I thought Vivienne would be your date tonight," Hermione said unexpectedly. "The two of you are involved, aren't you?"

Remus slanted a curious glance down at her. She was staring straight ahead, her expression unreadable. "No. Not at all."

"Really?" she said, raising an eyebrow skeptically and casting him an oblique glance in turn. "She seemed very interested in you the last time I saw you together. And she's a very attractive woman, don't you think?"

There was a bitterness in her tone like the one he'd perceived when they'd last spoken alone, and he heard it mirrored in his own voice when he replied, "I've met women like her before. I prefer to steer clear from that type."

"And what type is that?"

"The type that only comes around when the full moon is near."

He spoke without thinking and immediately regretted it. He shouldn't have said that to Hermione. The implications were inappropriate, though, thankfully, she seemed not to understand exactly what he'd meant. She looked around at him fully now, a question in her eyes, but he didn't allow her the opportunity to ask it.

"Where's George?" he inquired instead.

"Right here," George answered, his sudden arrival surprising both him and Hermione. "Thanks for keeping my date company, Remus." He casually put his arm around her, and resentment flickered inside Remus just as it had earlier when he'd seen them dancing together. "If you'll excuse us, we've got some more dancing to do."

Remus stared after them as they sauntered off to the dance floor, an ugly feeling in his chest. And the feeling only got uglier when he saw George stealthily lead Hermione through the crowd, to the door, and out of the Great Hall.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione wondered aloud as she followed George into an unlocked classroom. She shifted onto the teacher's desk. "Women who only come around when the full moon is near… What exactly did he mean by that?"

George hopped onto the desk beside her, studying the Marauder's Map she'd handed over to him moments before. He seemed so absorbed by whatever it was he was checking out that Hermione thought he wasn't even listening to her anymore, but then he said, "I think I know."

She looked at him expectantly, but he didn't elaborate. He just continued to study the map.

"Well?" she demanded after a few moments.

"Bill told Fred and me a few weeks ago about this woman who hit on him because she saw the scars on his face and thought he was a werewolf. I think some people are really into that, and I guess Vivienne is one of them. Great. I'll just tell Fred that all he needs to do in order to have a shot with her is to get bitten next full moon. Easy-peasy."

Hermione frowned. "But why would…? I mean, it's one thing to be attracted to someone who's a werewolf, but to only be interested in them during the full moon—?"

"Before the full moon," George corrected, finally raising his gaze to hers. "When the werewolf's human self is being influenced by the wolf part of him. Bill's said he's noticed a change in his behavior and instincts since he's been bitten, even though he isn't actually a werewolf, so I imagine it must be much more pronounced in a true, full-fledged werewolf like Remus."

For a moment Hermione still didn't quite understand. But then she remembered the ways werewolves were affected in the days preceding the full moon and how Remus himself had behaved towards her the last full moon.

"Oh," she said as it dawned on her at last what women like Vivienne desired. She shifted self-consciously in her seat, very aware of George watching her curiously. "But — but a werewolf could be dangerous before the full moon as well if he doesn't have access to Wolfsbane Potion."

"I suppose that's part of the appeal. They're attracted to that sense of danger."

Hermione contemplated what this meant in regard to Remus and Vivienne. She knew Remus despised the wolf part of himself, and judging by his tone earlier, he despised the type of woman attracted to that nature. So could it be true that he and Vivienne weren't involved? Was it possible that nothing had happened between them, that he had turned her away that night she'd been in his living quarters?

"This is perfect," said George suddenly as he studied the map again.

"What's perfect?"

He tucked the map into his jacket and slid off the desk to stand before her. "Hermione," he said, a devious gleam in his eyes, "I just want you to know what I'm about to do is ninety percent because I truly want to help you and only ten percent because I'm a shameless opportunist taking advantage of the situation."

"What—?"

"Just follow my lead, will you?"

The next thing she knew, George was kissing her passionately, and then BANG! — the door burst open with a blast of magic. Hermione hastily pushed George away from her and looked around at the classroom's entrance. Warmth flooded her face when her eyes met with Remus.

Remus found what he'd expected, but nothing could have prepared him for the feelings that arose within him at the sight of Hermione and George snogging inside the classroom. It was even worse than seeing them on Christmas Eve. He stared at Hermione as she scrambled off the teacher's desk, her face flushed as she gazed back at him with wide eyes.

"Oops," murmured George, nonchalantly tearing through the strained silence between them. "Forgot to lock the door."

Remus glared at him, the wolf inside writhing with outrage. But he had to control himself. He had no right to behave like some sort of betrayed man or jealous lover. He and Hermione were nothing — at least in her heart and mind. As a teacher, however, he did have reason to be stern.

"The two of you should be down in the Great Hall," he told them in a carefully controlled tone. "Guests tonight aren't permitted anywhere else in the castle."

"Sorry," said George, not looking sorry at all. "We didn't know."

Remus turned his gaze again to Hermione. She had known the rules, and she'd deliberately disregarded them to be alone with George.

"We weren't — we weren't doing anything," Hermione stammered. "We just came in here to talk and he — but I didn't—"

"Enough," Remus said quietly, unable to believe she was trying to deny something he'd just seen with his own eyes. "I'm disappointed in you, Hermione. As Head Girl, you should be setting a better example."

Her eyes glistened with tears. Remus felt a twinge of guilt but made no attempt to stop her as she ran past him and out of the room, leaving him alone with George.

"I think you're being too hard on her, Remus," the younger wizard said, stepping toward him. "Hermione's an excellent Head Girl—" he gave him a wink— "if you know what I mean."

Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Remus's clenched fist collided hard with George's cheeky grin.

The Weasley staggered from the blow and cursed eloquently, almost cheerfully, before he righted himself again. Blood stained his fingers as he touched his busted lip, yet there was laughter in his eyes as he peered at Remus, who was barely managing to control this uncharacteristic aggression threatening to burst from him.

"It was only a joke," George said. "The double entendre was too good to pass up."

"Hermione deserves to be shown far more respect than that!"

"I show her plenty of respect."

Remus was incensed, but George seemed more amused than anything else. There was an air of triumph about him and it only exacerbated Remus's anger. "I ought to throw you out."

"That would be pointless. You know I could find a way to sneak back into the castle if I wanted to — thanks in part to you and that clever little map of yours. But don't you think you're overreacting? Hermione and I were just snogging."

"As I said before, guests tonight are permitted only in the Great Hall. The rest of Hogwarts is out of bounds."

"You mean Hermione is out of bounds," said George shrewdly. "But you saw how amazing she looks tonight. You can't blame me for not being able to resist a little snogging in a lonely classroom. After all, you did the same with her when you were seventeen."

"What—?"

"I said you'd do the same as me if you were in my position. And I think that's what's really bothering you, why you're busy busting me when you know there's got to be at least a dozen other students sneaking around the castle right now, students who respect the rules and themselves much less than Hermione does — because you wish you were in my position. Well, if you want her so much, why don't you just go after her?"

"You are out of line and completely off base, and I will hear no more of this. You are going to return to the Great Hall and you will conduct yourself like a gentleman or you will be escorted out of the castle. Do you understand?"

"More than you know," George replied with an infuriating smile. He stepped around the seething Remus, but before he walked out the door he turned back to him and said, "Hermione was telling the truth, by the way. We came in here to talk. About you, actually. You're Hermione's favorite subject. I only kissed her when I saw on the map you were checking classrooms and heading straight toward us. I wanted to rile you up, you see."

He'd certainly succeeded. "Why?" Remus demanded, a fresh surge of anger coursing through him.

"I thought it might help."

And without further explanation, George left Remus to mull over his puzzling words and his own raging emotions.

Slumped at a table in a corner of the Great Hall, Hermione watched glumly as the smiling couples danced before her and glided gracefully across the floor. She stared blindly at all the beautiful dresses twirling, their various colors swirling and blurring together until they all faded away and everyone disappeared.

She wandered around the now empty Great Hall, gazing up at the ceiling and the shifting night sky. The stars were hiding behind rolling clouds tonight. Their pinpricks of light briefly peeked out from their cover every now and again, but then they were concealed once more, denying stargazers the chance to bask in their collective brilliance. The darkness only heightened her discouraged mood.

Footfalls sounded behind her. She spun around, ready to tell George off for what he'd done, but he wasn't the one who had come to find her.

"Hermione," Remus said tentatively, "forgive me. I… I shouldn't have reacted so harshly earlier—"

"No, you shouldn't have!" Her voice echoed in the desolate hall, the bitter frustration that had been building inside her ready to burst free now. "Especially since you're the one inviting women to your quarters here at school when you shouldn't be!"

"Hermione—"

"And it isn't fair! You have no right to be disappointed in me! You have no right to tell me—"

"Hermione," Remus interrupted more loudly this time, "listen to me a moment. Please. I need to tell you… I remember."

The bristling Hermione suddenly subdued. "You — you what?"

"I remember," he repeated, gazing at her intently.

Her heart began to pound. "R-remember what exactly?"

"You and me…in the past. Everything."

"But — but how?"

"George."

Hermione couldn't believe it. Had that been George's plan to help her all along, to tell Remus everything?

"I'm sorry," she said as the horrible memory of the boggart-Remus telling her that her actions in the past were a violation of his trust flashed through her mind. "Please, please let me ex—"

But Remus didn't let her explain. Instead, he silenced her with a kiss.

His lips captured hers, taking her completely by surprise, and she sensed the wolf in the way he pulled her body flush against his, his gentle kiss quickly turning ravenous, and sweet Merlin — nothing could have prepared her for this moment. Her heart might have exploded with all the love and longing she felt for him, all the love and longing she'd had to hide for too long and that she poured freely into her kiss now. She couldn't believe after all this time she was finally back in his arms.

When they broke their kiss, Remus gazed at her with warmth and wonder. "You still have feelings for me," he said softly.

It wasn't a question, but she answered anyway with a breathless, "Yes."

"And I still owe you a dance, don't I? Shall we?"

He offered her his hand, but ecstatic that he'd remembered, Hermione flung her arms around him instead and kissed him again, like she'd wanted to do so many times the last several months. She felt Remus smile against her lips, and their dance forgotten once more, he swept her off her feet.

He was carrying her away, through doors and along corridors, and through the windows pinpricks of light shone brightly in the dark sky. The stars had revealed themselves tonight after all. She was basking in their brilliance and she had to be the happiest soul in the castle. This was the best night of her life until — until…

Oh no, please, don't let this be a dream…

Hermione, still wearing her blush pink dress, reluctantly opened her eyes to her Remusless dormitory and the starless night sky outside her window. She gave a frustrated groan and turned over in bed, burying her face in her pillow.

A/N: I'm sure many of you are probably feeling frustrated like Hermione at this point, but some truths will be revealed and feelings confessed soon…