Finally, a bit of solace. The wolf had been angry for far too long now and it didn't help that everywhere Remus went, Hermione was already there. The kitchen, the library, even the damn loo; he had to meet her coming or going all day long and it was serving to both anger and confuse him. Even keeping Tonks around as much as possible wasn't helping. If anything, it was making things worse, making it all the more obvious to him that he was a failure as a husband and his wife would rather be anywhere than around him.

Why couldn't Hermione just make this easy and stay away from him? Why is it that when he needed to ignore her, to have her not be around, she was everywhere? He couldn't remember it being like that before, but then again, he didn't have a reason to try and avoid her. Now, it was as though she were taunting him with her presence. Last night had been the easiest transformation of his life. He had no scars, no pain, no reminders at all that it was even the full moon. What he did have, however, were the vivid memories of her tight, little body pressed up against his as she slept. He felt like he was on the edge, hanging on for his life, for his sanity, and she was gently pushing him in a direction he wanted to go, but wasn't allowed.

'Perhaps that should tell you something.'

Remus growled in response to the wolf, hating himself for the anger he was starting to feel towards Hermione. What could he do? The wolf hated her and it wouldn't be long before something terrible happened, before he became the cause of her fate. He'd never be able to live with himself if he hurt her. He growled again, frustration and self-loathing becoming like a covering for him as he settled into the darkness. And damn it all, now he could smell her!

"Remus, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he snarled, glancing up briefly and understanding why her scent was suddenly so overwhelming. "Just go away, Hermione." Of course it was her, wearing that skirt that never failed to make men look three or four times in her direction and a shirt that wasn't completely buttoned at the top, showing more than just a hint of cleavage. Ten minutes of solitude was all he had asked for, all he had wanted, but he couldn't even have that.

Looking up from the table again, he was a bit surprised to see her standing right over him.

She assessed his features, a concerned look crossing her face when she gently put her hand to his forehead. "You're not feverish, but you don't look well. Is there anything I can do, anything I can get for you?"

Remus stood suddenly, his chair crashing back against the floor as the startled witch before him took a quick step backward as she looked at his eyes in confusion.

"There is nothing you can do, Hermione," he ground out. "How many more ways can I say this so that it is abundantly clear? I just need to be left alone!"

She snorted softly before locking her eyes with his. "Obviously," she spat angrily, wondering why everything with them kept becoming an argument.

'She looks delicious when she's angry, wouldn't you agree? Her face all flushed, her young tits heaving against her tight shirt. And that skirt, could it get any shorter?'

Before he realized it, Remus glanced down at her breasts, then quickly looked away.

'Shut up, wolf!' The wolf, however, chuckled, happily taunting him.

"Remus, you're bleeding," Hermione said with surprise, quickly walking over to him and taking his arm in her warm hands. "How did this happen?"

"I have no idea," he answered between gritted teeth. Did the witch just not get the meaning of the word 'alone'?

Her hand feathered up his arm to examine the shallow cut. "It's not deep," she said, pushing him towards another chair. "Sit down and I'll heal it for you."

The smile she gave him was sweet and innocent, but he knew a lie when he saw one. She was playing games with him, had been for some time. Why else would she stay around him when he told her to leave. When the wolf tried to take over, everyone else left him alone, so why not her?! His gaze landed on the chocolate, the chocolate she gave him before and after every full moon to help ease his body. Chocolate which led to their first, and only, kiss. The full moon which had led to him waking up naked in her bed this morning.

'She knows what you like, what you need, but I think you'd rather lick that chocolate off her delectable, tight body. Can't you see it? She's naked on the bed that belongs to your wife, you drizzle the melted chocolate all over her tits and down her stomach. Then slowly, savoring this moment you'll never have, you lean your head down to her glorious body and lick her clean. Do you think that's what she thinks of each time she gives you that particular gift?'

So, that was the game she was playing. She wanted to play dirty with a married man and thought he would be willing to take her up on the offer! He glared at her and the beautiful smile on her face faltered, even as he felt his pants tighten painfully.

To say Hermione was surprised with Remus' current behavior would be a serious understatement. She had seen him come in here alone and was concerned about his obvious unhappiness. Following him, she noticed the way he fought with the wolf, trying to overcome whatever issues they were having. Granted, she had a feeling she knew what they were arguing about, but he didn't need to know that. Moony wanted her to seduce Remus away from Tonks, but she had no idea where to even begin, no matter how much she was coming to understand that it was needed for his own survival.

"I only wanted…" she started meekly, slowly backing away from him.

The knowledge that he upset her only served to anger him further. "What, Hermione?" His voice was a low roar as he jerked her body flush against his. Ignoring her squeak of surprise, he bent his head down closer to hers and snarled, "You think I haven't noticed? You think I haven't seen the way you follow me around like a lost dog lately? You're acting like a whore, Hermione, and it's very unbecoming of you. I realize I kissed you, but it was a mistake, and you need to get over whatever it is you think you're feeling. I'm married and I intend to stay that way."

He wanted to push her away, wanted to make her hate him so much that she never came around him again…lost souls be damned, he had his own to worry about.

'That's it, make her cry. Show her what kind of man you really are. She's been throwing herself at you like a common whore for far too long now. Don't you think it's about time you gave her what she wants? She belongs to you, you belong in her. Do it, human! Take her! Give her what she thinks she wants and show her what fucking a werewolf is really about.'

The wolf was pushing through, he could feel it. He could feel his anger, coupled with the lust he felt every time she came near, and he knew he had to make her hate him. With a wolfish grin, he also realized the wolf was right; threaten to give her what she thinks she wants and she'll go the hell away. If he couldn't move out because of his wife's refusal, he could damn sure drive his new obsession away.

He backed her into the table and not once did she object to his closeness, only confirming what he had already realized…she wanted him.

"What is it you want, Hermione?" he snarled, anger overtaking him completely as the witch refused to be scared and back down. She didn't answer, infuriating him even more. "I asked you to stay away from me and you refuse to listen. Now, you will get what's coming to you." His free hand wound through her hair and he jerked her head back sharply, making her whimper in pain.

"Remus, please," she pleaded, "this isn't the way it's supposed to be."

His mirthless laugh met her ears only seconds before he ripped her shirt open and grabbed her breast. Slowly, he lowered his head to her neck, biting it roughly as she squeaked in weak protest. "It isn't supposed to be at all, Hermione, but you can't leave things alone. You always have to stick your nose in where it doesn't belong. I was happy with my wife until you ruined it, until you made me question things that never should have been questioned."

Even though he was hurting her, anger soared through her body and out her mouth. "That's bullshit and you know it," she spat, head cocked to the side wantonly as his mouth ravaged her neck and shoulder---stopping briefly to unconsciously lick her scar that the torn shirt revealed. "You've not been happy with your wife since you married her. What's wrong," she taunted, unsure exactly why she was pushing him, "not man enough for her?"

'That was rather low of the bitch,' the wolf chuckled, 'even I wouldn't go there and I'm not particularly fond of you as of late. Will you seriously take that from her, a wanton little slut questioning your manhood?'

Remus growled then, rage and lust as he'd never known filtering through him and he finished ripping her shirt down the middle, sending buttons flying across the room and ignoring her sharp intake of breath.

"You want this, Hermione? I'm going to show you just how much of a man I can be!"

Not giving her time to answer, his hand grabbed her naked breast once more, before lowering to her hips and the warmth between her legs. Suddenly his fingers were cupping her wet knickers under her skirt and he laughed coldly. "This turns you on? You're such a sick little whore."

"You're a bastard," she snarled in reply, ashamed that she wanted him even after the things he had said to her. How could the man be so much like a beast, but the beast be so much better than the man?

Remus grabbed her hips and harshly spun her around, forcing her to bend over the table as he quickly lifted her skirt and pushed the soaked lace roughly down her thighs. "A bastard who is going to fuck you now," he growled. "You've been panting after me like a bitch in heat all week and now I'm going to show you what it's really like to have my cock slamming inside of you!"

Hermione whimpered slightly, realizing that he was really going through with it and knowing that she was powerless to stop him, even if she found the will to try.

"Fuck you, Remus," she sobbed, but then he was gone.

Her shoulders sagged in relief and hurt, but she realized he was still there when his hands suddenly grabbed her hips and his cock rammed deep within her wet passage. She gave a cry of pain and pleasure, then heard him groan from behind her.

"Gods, witch," he moaned, thrusting brutally in and out of her body. "Gonna fuck you like the whore that you are," he snarled.

And he did. His hands gripped her hips so hard she knew he'd leave bruises, but the heat and tension building within her was so great, she started meeting him thrust for thrust even against her own will. He grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking back hard and exposing her neck. His wet tongue flicked up her slightly bare back to her neck, and then down to her scar where he licked and nipped at her mark, without realizing the significance of what he was doing.

His cock pistoned inside of her with reckless abandon and within seconds, he felt her body convulsing around him. Shocked that she was actually getting off, he thrust harder inside her dripping core, desperately trying to make her hate him. As she tightened around him, however, he knew he'd never last. She was so wet, so tight and hot, and he'd never felt anything like this before in his life. His skin tingled and burned, his heart beat so fast he thought it would explode, and his mind reeled from the sensations. He knew in that moment that the wolf was right…this is where he truly belonged. The realization came too late, however, because after today, she'd never speak to him again. His hips surged forward twice more and he found himself buried deep within her, spilling his seed inside a woman he was forbidden to have, forbidden to love.

They had no sooner righted their clothing than the floor began to shake, throwing them both off balance. The pictures on the wall began rattling, falling to the ground with a loud simultaneous crash amid various screams and curses from the occupants. The candles surrounding the room all extinguished, throwing the room into a darkness that made Hermione screech in terror.

Remus immediately grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, sheltering her with his body as he moved them to the doorway. The ground continued to shake and the cabinets rattled with the ominous sounds of dishes breaking under the stress of what could only be defined as an earthquake. He pulled her into his arms and pushed her back against the door frame, completely shielding her body with his own as his arms came up to cover her head as well. Her hands were fisted into his shirt, pulling him closer and holding on to him as if their very lives depended on their closeness to one another as her tears dried forgotten upon her cheeks. She was so scared, the pain that flashed across her finger went completely unnoticed.

As suddenly as it started, the shaking ceased and the kitchen came to a still once more. The candles flickered and relit, but the two remained locked together for several more moments. Hermione stood in the safe cocoon of his arms, willing her body to stop shuddering and her breath to return to normal. Concentrating on his slowing heart rate beneath her hands, Hermione waited until hers resumed the same pace before easing back slightly.

Remus felt her move away so when his breath calmed and he was sure it was safe to release her, he reluctantly did so. Taking a deep, guilty breath, he placed his fingers under her chin and made her look up at him.

She saw his eyes--guilt, fear, and lingering shock and lust--and her heart broke for him. Her heart broke for the situation both she and the wolf had put him in. This sweet, gentle man deserved so much more than the life he had been dealt, and she was bound and determined he should have it…even if she was rather angry at him.

"Gods, Hermione, I…I'm so sorry," he said, his voice breaking with emotion. "I don't know what's come over me lately." He ran his hands through his hair, a habit quickly becoming very endearing to her, as he walked around the disaster that used to be their kitchen, leaving her rooted to the spot. "Lately, I feel like I'm going crazy and losing control of myself. I know this sounds absurd and I don't deserve the chance to explain myself," he continued, refusing to meet her eyes as he surveyed the damage, "I have periods of time where I can't remember anything and…" he broke off suddenly, smelling the air around him for the first time. "And you've had sex in this kitchen recently."

His eyes held both accusation and humor before guilt took over again. Walking closer to her, he tried taking her hand only to have her jerk away from him as if burned.

"I'm going to check on the others," she said heatedly.

"Hermione, please," he pleaded, "I'm so sorry, but I can't explain what I don't understand." Of course she had the right to be angry, and he knew she would want to leave once he made himself sound like a fool in front of her the way he did Tonks, but he wasn't sure why, when she finally hated him the way he wanted, he felt as though his world were ending.

Taking a deep breath and trying desperately to see things from his point of view, while also trying to forgive him, she lifted her eyes to his. "Tell me," she said quietly, pointing towards the table and gesturing for him to take a seat. His nervous glance at the damnable object was not lost on her, but he slowly pulled out a chair and sat down.

"You won't understand. You'll…I don't know, laugh at me," he said, remembering his own wife's reaction.

Hermione gently placed her hand on top of his own for support. "I'm not her, Remus. Tell me."

He looked down at her hand covering his and then up to the understanding look on her face. Holding his breath in anticipation of her reaction, he softly said, "It's the wolf."

"Go on," she encouraged and he found no trace of condemnation in her features.

"Gods, this is going to sound insane." He looked at her hand again. "He's been…lately he's been talking to me."

"What does he say?" she asked cautiously.

He blinked in surprise at her response before continuing. "Well," he started slowly, unsure exactly how to proceed, "at first I thought he hated you, actually, but now I don't know what he wants. It's no excuse though, I never should have touched you and never like that."

"Then why did you?" she asked with slight heat back in her voice.

He sighed deeply. "I wanted to make you hate me, hate me so much that he couldn't hurt you if I ever lose control."

"Have you talked to him about this?"

"How did you…"

"Talk to him," she interrupted, "go on."

'Why am I talking to you? Can I even talk to you without an argument?'

'Well, hello human. Finally starting to see reason?'

'So, I can talk to you just as easily as you do me.' It wasn't a question, Remus had finally realized that he could talk to the beast within first, instead of waiting on him to show himself before any discussion began.

'You always could. You just needed to do it. Enjoy our witch?'

'Not like that! Never like that. Why did you make me lose control? I practically raped her!'

'Someone had to make you see, make you do what your moral values would not allow.'

'This was to hurt me as well as her?'

'For an intelligent man, you really can be quite daft.'

'Meaning?'

'Meaning that I have never wanted to hurt her.'

'But the growls and anger when she came near, I wasn't imagining that.'

'No, but you weren't paying attention to whom they were directed either. You led yourself to believe that because it was easier than accepting the truth.'

'Which is?'

'She belongs to us, human, and you and I belong to her. I've told her as much and she understands. The very ground shook from your bonding.'

'You've talked to her?!'

'More than talk, my friend. Tonight was not the first night that your cock has been inside of our witch.'

'Excuse me?'

'Several times actually. You have no idea what wonders she is capable of.'

And then he understood. The way he could smell her on him, the smell of sex around him when he didn't remember the event, the lapses in memory…it all made perfect sense to him now.

"Go to hell," he said, barely restraining his anger as he stood up and made his way to the door, "both of you!"

Hermione sat in silence for a long while, idly playing with the napkin that lay haphazard on the table. She had watched Remus' face as he talked to the wolf; a myriad of expressions had flown across his features until it seemed like shock and anger remained. She had jumped back, startled when he quickly stood up and told her to go to hell, but understood his reaction nonetheless. What she didn't know, however, was if this situation was one that could be repaired.

Deciding to work on what she could, she stood up and raised her wand to the mess. The portraits jumped back on the wall, the dishes glued themselves back together and lay neatly stacked, the table righted its' belongings, and the dust and debris disappeared.

Remus stormed from the kitchen and was mildly shocked that the house showed no visible signs of damage. Deciding to head to the library and check on their work, he stopped short at the door when he saw his wife nosing through their most recent developments. Unbeknownst to him, however, she had been silently fuming for hours. Finding another woman's knickers in your husbands pocket will do that to a woman,

"Dora, what are you doing?" he asked coldly, still angry at Hermione, but more upset about his wife's betrayal of something so private it had been deemed 'A Matter of Ministry Security'.

She jumped, startled at the sound of his voice and tried to look innocent as she shoved papers back around on the table. "Remus, what are you doing here?" she squeaked.

He looked at her accusingly, "I have a meeting at the Ministry tomorrow and I need to get things ready. Now, what are you doing?"

She walked over to him, her mouth turned up in a suggestive manner that always put him in the mood; until tonight that is. "Come on, baby, let's go to our room and I'll help you relax," she purred as her fingers walked up his arm.

The wolf inside growled and this time, Remus understood. "Nice try, Dora, but I still want to know what you're doing in here."

Huffing, she turned back to the room and said sarcastically, "Look around, Remus, this is a library. It doesn't have your name, or Hermione's," she spat, "written on it."

"No, it doesn't, but the box you took those papers from was locked. If you tell anyone what you found, Dora…"

"You'll what? Come on, Remus, be honest with yourself." By this time, she was facing him directly and her eyes flashed with anger, while sadness and acceptance filled his. "You make empty threats because you're too nice to do anything. Too kind and gentle."

"I'm the same as I was when we married, Dora, nothing has changed," he sighed.

"Exactly! Things were supposed to change when we married. I told you I'd be there for you and I've tried, but you never let me in. You never show me what you show her!"

"What?!" Remus roared, aided quickly by the wolf within. "I have tried talking to you and you laughed, or do you not remember?"

"What about Hermione?" she spat the name like a disease.

"What about her?" he retorted.

"Why were you fine with her last night, but tried to attack me? Your wife, Remus!" she shouted.

"This is about jealousy?" he questioned and watched as she bristled.

"No matter what I think or how I feel about you, Remus, you are still my husband…mine! And I will not share you with someone else--any of you."

'Does that put your wife into perspective enough for you? Our witch was willing to listen to you with an open mind and without judgment, yet your own wife tells you she no longer wants you.'

In fact, her comment should have infuriated him, shamed him, or made him feel something. Instead, all he could do was smile sadly down at her as he listened to the wolf, really listened this time. "Let me get this straight," he responded coolly, "you don't want me, but you don't want anyone else to have me either, right? And you're angry with me over something in which I have absolutely no control? I'm a werewolf, remember, and some things are beyond my control."

Tonks opened her mouth to speak, then quickly shut it again. "I suppose you're right," she said softly after a few minutes of his accusatory look. With a shrug of her shoulders, she left the library to get ready for her night on duty. Not allowing her husband to see the glint in her eye or the sneer on her face.

Remus walked through the cluttered library, thinking somewhere in the back of his mind that their intense research had left quite a mess that would need to be cleaned after their meeting the next day. He began straightening books and pieces of parchment while he thought of the meeting and what lay in store for them when they actually faced the veil. Granted, Hermione would have to do the actual spell, since being a lycanthrope prevented such things from him, but he would be there with her in case she needed him, if she would allow him anywhere near her after what had just happened.

He couldn't understand why the wolf was so insistent on this relationship. Perhaps selfishness was his only driving force, or perhaps there was more to things than he ever realized. When he fixed all their files and such for the next day, he quickly locked them back in the box before someone else would happen along to see. As he moved the box from the table, he eyes fell on an ancient book marked to a certain page with a scribbled on piece of parchment. Surprised, he recognized Hermione's handwriting and wondered what else she had found since they finished.

Is this why Remus doesn't know? How long do they have to live if denied? Can one be mated and not be together? Each mark means something different---is it literal?

Confused by her questions and what they had to do with him, he skimmed down the page and realized with a start that this was an old book about Lycan mating habits. Intrigued by how this would affect her, and if this was what the wolf had been talking about, he paid closer attention to the words as he sank down into the overstuffed armchair. An hour later, he heard the front door slam with a bang and knew that his wife was gone for the night, but he was so engrossed in the book that he didn't care. He had been a werewolf for four decades now and there was so much he didn't even know about himself. A mate? That sounded so wolfish that it actually made him laugh. When he read that a wolf has only one mate in his entire life and would die without her, his laugh died instantly. The reading continued to explain what the mating ritual entailed and he gasped in shock when he saw a series of possible marks. He scanned the pictures until he found the one in which he had been frantically searching. His heart rate sped up, his breathing became quick and shallow, and sweat beaded upon his forehead…he had marked her. The scar had been so obvious only hours before and he now understood his need to caress and lick said mark. And then it happened…his memories returned in a flash of blinding pain and he could see himself with her. The counter in the kitchen, the couch in this very room several times, and then the kitchen again, only hours before.

Hands shaking, he slammed the book closed and willed his body to come back under control. She had known. This last week that they had spent together doing research, she had known. The wolf said he had spoken to her, had been with her, but Remus had refused to believe her capable of such a thing. Now, however, he not only knew she had been, but he understood why and was becoming hard just thinking about it. Not to mention, his actions only hours earlier became even more atrociously cruel and unforgivable. He dropped his head slowly into his hands, realizing that he not only lost one of the best friends he had ever known, but he had lost his lifemate as well. No part of him wanted to hurt his wife, but his desires and feelings towards Hermione now held a different meaning. Deciding that talking to her was the only way to solve this problem, especially before their meeting tomorrow, he stood up and left the room.

As he padded down the quiet hallway, he was surprised at the lack of, well anything really. There were no sounds, no other people, nothing…and he could hear extremely well tonight. His sense of smell had increased as well and he inwardly smiled as he realized he was using the wolf's senses. That had never happened before. When he was still another hallway away from her room, he could smell her and she smelled like moonlight. He snorted, damned if that wasn't the way to describe a woman! As he concentrated on her, he also heard her soft sobs and his heart broke, knowing he was the cause of her sadness, her disappointment.

He gently rapped on the door and awaited her permission to enter. When the door slowly opened, he saw the tear tracks that ran down her pale cheeks. She clutched her robe tightly to her and a feeling of déjà vu swept over him. Then he remembered the wolf taking her on the kitchen counter, marking her as their own while she wore nothing more than that robe. She had been so passionate, so completely perfect that seeing her so broken in this moment ripped at his heart.

"May I come in?" he asked quietly.

Her only answer was to show him her back as she walked across the room and sat back down at the vanity, pulling a brush through her tangled locks and waiting for him to speak.

"Hermione, I…I can't even begin to…"

"Then don't," she said coldly, turning around to look at him. "Don't come in here and tell me how sorry you are, how stupid and pathetic I am, because I already know." Fresh tears spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks, but she refused to acknowledge them. "You made it perfectly clear how you thought of me, and then proceeded to show me, so I really don't need to hear it again. I just want to go to bed and forget this entire week ever happened, okay?" She turned around, but stopped at his soft spoken, raspy word.

"No," Moony replied with authority, and for whatever reason, she felt compelled to turn around and keep her gaze lowered from his.

Stubbornly, however, she met his amber eyes through her own narrowed brown ones. "How could you let him do that?" she asked.

He closed the space between them and grasped her wrists in his hands. "I didn't just let him do that," he growled, angry at having her question him. "I goaded him into doing it. I taunted him and pushed him until he finally broke his stupid barriers and took what he was meant to have, and this," he added, holding up her left hand and showing her the finger, "is the result. The next time he takes you, mate, will be because you both want it and because he has accepted me. Only then will we truly be bonded. For now, the slight bond that has been forged will have to last until such time."

Hermione stood staring at her ring finger and suddenly remember all the times it had itched or burned, especially right after the earthquake in the kitchen. "The kitchen shook, but the rest of the house remained untouched," she breathed.

"Of course," he smirked, "that was your bonding. I have allowed the human his memories and he now knows everything."

"Are you leaving?" she asked in shock, her eyes finally meeting his again while his hands still held her to him by the wrists.

"Not yet. When the human accepts me, then I will go, but not completely. As I have said before the happier either he or I become, the stronger the other is in turn. I have never been more content than when I am with you, and the human is stronger."

"Does he know what we're saying?"

"Yes, and he's quite content himself letting me talk to you instead. He's too busy wallowing in his self-pity."

"I'm angry with you both right now. Whether I should be or not, I am."

"Understandable," he rasped, pulling her closer and wrapping his arms around her. He nuzzled her neck and held her close.

"No," she said, squirming under his touch, "I'm not ready for that."

"Allow me to hold you while you sleep, mate. That is all I seek from tonight, just let me be close to you."

"You're not forgiven," she said, but the smile on her face belied the sincerity of her words.