Author's Note: Yes, this chapter departs from my usual style in that it is a load of fluff. Well, let's face it, they really do need a break from all the angst. Otherwise, they might explode. So here you have Lupin and Hermione being generally cute and in love. Heaps of angst and heart-wrenching love scenes to continue…after we have some fun.

And yes, I know this chapter should, according to the structure, be from Lupin's perspective, but we'll deviate from that a bit. Obviously this one has to be from Hermione's. You'll see why.

Menolly

Chapter Eleven: Something Helpful

The next two days were shockingly pleasant. Mr. and Mrs. Granger did not, as Hermione had half expected hem to, throw Lupin bodily from the premises, or berate him for taking advantage of their only daughter. They did not question Hermione incessantly about any subject which she did not wish to discuss. Mr. Granger, in fact, seemed to be blissfully unaware of the entire totally heinous intrigue going on right under his roof. Only Mrs. Granger let on that she understood, and she was strangely quiet about it, so quiet that Hermione began to worry, although she really couldn't understand what it was that was making her so agitated.

"Parents are supposed to be overprotective," she told Lupin, entering his room one morning before breakfast. "It doesn't feel right, that's all. Like…like they don't even care."

"Nonsense," murmured Lupin, rummaging in the bag that he kept beneath the bed as he spoke. "They've just realized that you're a grown woman now, and that they can't exercise any valuable control over your life. All parents reach that understanding at some point. I imagine it's very difficult. You should be grateful, not suspicious."

Lupin reached into the bag, and pulled out a very large, opaque black tankard, which made a sickening sort of sloshing sound as he swung it up towards him. Pulling the cork, he cast a dubious eye into the depths of the thing, and then took a long swig of it, before re-corking it, and stowing it again under the bed. "Not a particularly polite way of taking my medicine, I know," he said, smiling at Hermione's raised eyebrows. "But I'm sure you'll forgive me the rude oversight."

Of course, thought Hermione, exasperated with herself as realization dawned. He had to have been taking his wolfs bane potion somehow. Even if she hadn't seen it, he must have been keeping it in that bag of his all along.

An unpleasant odor wafted towards her from the direction of the bag, and she wrinkled her nose, shying away from the edge of the bed. The wolfsbane potion was, and had always been absolutely foul in every way. She couldn't imagine how he managed to gulp the stuff down like that. To be sure, the benefits were more than worth the discomfort, but still…

"Disgusting," he muttered, with a little sigh. "Absolutely vile." Lupin sat back against the bed, and turned a long suffering smile on Hermione. "The woes of being a werewolf. Oh. That reminds me. I don't suppose your parents…know that I'm a werewolf, do they?"
His smile faded, and he bit his lip, no doubt, Hermione decided, thinking about what sort of effect that would have on Mr. and Mrs. Granger's feelings about Lupin and Hermione's relationship. She, however, didn't dwell on that thought long. She'd just had an idea, one that was much more uplifting than any speculations about the trials that her parents would put on their romance.

"Wait here," she told Lupin, turning around swiftly and heading for the door. She had one quick glance of his slightly surprised expression as she clicked the door shut behind her, and made her way towards the stairs that led to the kitchen.

"That's certainly unexpected," said Mrs. Granger, after Hermione had rushed into the kitchen and begun to outline her plan. "You've never expressed any interest in baking before. Are the other girls at school getting into it, or something?"

"Something like that," muttered Hermione quickly. "I mean, you know, I just thought it would be an interesting experiment, seeing if one could bake a potion into a…a cake, or something. Or a muffin. Yes, a muffin would be perfect. You can eat muffins in one bite. That way, the school nurse would be able to heal cuts and bruises with healing potions disguised as sweets. Imagine how much less awful it would be for sick students?"

"Imagine how much more popular the hospital wing would get," murmured Mrs. Granger, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "I have to admit though, you've aroused my curiosity. Do you have any potions here that we could use? Mild ones, mind you, I don't want anything exploding in my kitchen. Lord knows what a magical catastrophe could do to my upholstery."

Oh, thought Hermione, grimacing inwardly. She hadn't thought to actually procure the potion before she'd gone rushing off to ask her mother to teach her to bake pastries. That would be a trick, especially since Lupin was clearly hesitant to let Mrs. Granger know anything about his…well, his condition. "I'll work on it," she promised. "I'll…just go get one now, actually."

Just as Hermione began to think over various half-truths that she could tell to win Lupin's wolfsbane potion, Mrs. Granger spoke again.

"All right," she said, "I'd love to help. But you I hope you remember what happened the last time that you and I tried to bake something together. A birthday cake, I think it was, when you were in your third year at school."

Hermione blinked. She couldn't recall.

"It turned into a giant, oozing, magenta-colored mass, complete with candles floating in the frosting," Mrs. Granger reminded her. "I think you used a bit too much food coloring, and not enough batter."

Oh yes, thought Hermione, wincing. Now she remembered.

Getting the wolfsbane potion proved a good deal easier than Hermione had predicted. For some reason or other, Lupin wasn't in his room when she returned to it, and she managed to slip the flagon out from his bag, and fill a plastic cup with the disgusting substance without having to make up any creative excuses. Worried that he might just have gone to the bathroom, and would burst in on her at any moment, she hurried down the stairs as quickly as she could, the glass of green liquid clutched in one hand.

Mrs. Granger was waiting for her in the kitchen. She wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant looking potion, but seemed to have expected nothing better, and took the glass from Hermione with only the most imperceptible of shudders. She'd already begun to prepare a gooey mixture of eggs, flour and flour, which Hermione presumed was ultimately going to be some sort of cake batter.

"Oh," said Hermione, as Mrs. Granger's fingers drifted towards a nearby bag of sugar. "That reminds me, we um…we can't use any sugar, or the potion won't have any effect anymore. I forgot."

Mrs. Granger frowned. "It's not going to taste very good if we don't put any sweetener in."

Hermione shrugged. "It doesn't matter," she insisted. "It's got o taste better than drinking the potion straight, with sugar or without. Anything would." She reached over, and, retrieving the wolfsbane from her mother, she upended it into the batter. It hissed and sputtered as the greenish bubbles came in contact with the much more innocent looking yellowish sludge of the mixture.

"What exactly are the effects of this potion, anyway?" Mrs. Granger asked, beginning to stir the wolfsbane into the batter with one large wooden spoon. "You've never said. What's all the fuss for? I imagine it's something very important, if you're so eager to make it palatable."

The potion had begun to eat away at the edges of the spoon, so that when Mrs. Granger lifted one end out of the batter, Hermione could see that there were burn marks and chunks missing all across the spoon's wooden bottom. Clearing her throat to distract her mother's attention from this mutilation of her utensils, Hermione chose her words very carefully before speaking.

"It's a medicine," she said, after a moment's thought. "It cures certain wizarding sicknesses. Professor Lupin takes it."

"Does he, now." Mrs. Granger looked mildly disturbed. "I hope it's not contagious, whatever he's got. I wouldn't want the family to be getting sick with stuff that we have no idea how to cure. No idea how our immune systems would handle magical ailments."

"Don't worry," Hermione assured her mother. "It's more of a preventative thing. As long as he takes it, he won't get sick."

"Oh, well. That's all right, then." Mrs. Granger smiled, and then poured the now puce-colored sludge into a nearby cake tin, which had several indentations in it, as if to make a series of little cakes or muffins. "I wonder if your father could use a potion like that to prevent people from getting cavities…but then again, I wouldn't want you to do anything that would get you in trouble, and if anything went wrong, no doubt we'd be at a loss how to fix it. Better not, I suppose."
"Better not," Hermione agreed, feeling slightly sick. It annoyed her how easily she lied to her mother, and yet, she knew there wasn't any way that she could say what it was this potion really prevented. Lying's not a bad thing, she told herself, if you're only doing it to protect someone. Even as she thought it, she knew that wasn't entirely true.

"Well let them cool on the shelf when they're done," Mrs. Granger was saying, "and then we'll put them in the cabinet over night, so that you can serve them for breakfast tomorrow morning. Er…that is, to the Professor. I think your father and I will stick to toast, if that's all right with you, dear."

The next morning, Hermione knocked on Lupin's bedroom door at six-thirty sharp. She could hear him rustling around inside, as he disentangled himself from the bedclothes. Several moments passed in silence before he seemed to have gathered himself together sufficiently. "Come in," he called out, in a hoarse morning voice.

Hermione entered, balancing a plate full of greenish muffins in one hand. Lupin smiled when he saw her, and then cast a dubious, alarmed look at the plate of pastries. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he took a few quick steps over to her, and relieved her of the plate, as several muffins were looking as though they might tumble off the edge. He placed it on the end table next to the bed, careful to make sure that it was set far enough away from the edge to be stable, before turning questioning eyes back to Hermione.

"What's this?" he asked, gesturing at the plate. "Looks as though you've overdone it a bit with the food coloring."

Hermione shook her head. "Very funny, Professor," she said. "They're um…they're wolfsbane muffins, actually. I thought they might be a nice change."

"Wolfsbane…muffins?" asked Lupin, biting his lip.

"I borrowed some of your potion yesterday," Hermione continued, rushing o n before he could protest the intrusion into his belongings. "I wanted to surprise you, you see. I made a batch of these last night, with my mom. Don't worry," she added, as Lupin opened his mouth to speak. "I didn't tell her what they were really for, I sort of…hedged around the truth, a bit. Anyway, the point is, they're made out of cake batter and wolfsbane potion. They might taste better than the stuff usually does when you drink it straight. I thought it was worth a try, anyway."

Lupin frowned. "Sugar," he began, but Hermione cut him off.

"I know, I know," she said impatiently. "I didn't use any sugar. So, you see, they'll work just fine, even if they aren't the best tasting breakfast pastries you've ever had." She sat down on the edge of the bed, clasping her hands in front of her in some nervous agitation. "Try one, won't you? I want to know if they're any good."

Lupin hesitated for a moment, and then reached out and obligingly picked up one of the grimy looking muffins. "I really don't know what to say," he said as he regarded the pastry. "This was incredibly thoughtful of you, Hermione…I'm really touched." He turned one of his weary, but genuine smiles on her, and she glowed. Then she held her breath as he took a large bite of the muffin, and chewed thoughtfully.

Hermione watched his face anxiously for several moments, hoping to see the signs of his reaction to her cooking before he spoke. Lupin was inscrutable as ever, and she had to wait until he finished chewing before hearing the verdict.
"This is really something," he said, nodding enthusiastically at the muffin still clutched in his hand. "A bit rich to eat all at once, however. I'll finish it in a bit, after I've gotten dressed."

"I'm so glad they worked," cried Hermione, beaming at him. He continued to smile back at her, until she realized that, if he was going to get changed, it would hardly do for her to keep lurking about in his room. Almost skipping in her delight, she exited the bedroom and closed the door behind her. He really had liked them, then, she told herself, thrilled with her success. She'd managed to do something genuinely helpful for him after all, and that was an extremely comforting thought.

She thought she heard th sounds of coughing from the inside of Lupin's room, and was just about to fling the door open again to check on him, when the coughing fit ceased. Must have swallowed some water down the wrong tube, or something, she thought. It happened to her father all the time when he was brushing his teeth.