Author's Note - Yay! New chapter. ;) Gotta give Remus his props. Thanks for all the reviews, guys!

----

Remus watched the brass kettle steaming on the wooden stove, his forehead pulsating the shrill voice of the pot. A wave of his wand sat the kettle from the eye onto the wooden tray. Silence in the study. The professor sat, hunch-backed, in the tattered armchair, face settled in his upturned palms as they rested elbows on his knees. This was the manner in which he debated with himself, in the silence of the lonely room, only his thoughts to unbridle him.

He knew that it was only a matter of time before he loved Hermione-he believed in that one instant, where time and breathing, trivial matters, stopped and gave praise to a discovered love. He believed in this moment of realization and spent the majority of his recent life waiting for it to explode. How lovely Hermione would look in arm, he thought.

And for the debate-he prayed to himself not to betray his own manifesto. He was not yet prepared to declare his interest to the girl. He was her Professor-Merlin! As well, Remus knew how positively unfair it was to her. He was not even considered a human being to the ministry records! He was her professor, an animal, and a man of some considerable years her senior. He was poor, pitiful, and he was pinning for her love; he knew it.

It was not yet clear to him how he had strayed this path. Hermione was, by all accounts, a beautiful, talented, smart (could you quite declare her intelligence in that word!), loving, ambitious, charming young lady with the world at her feet begging to be conquered. Even when she was a small child, Remus had enjoyed even the mere sight of her-the precious gift. Quick witted and honor-bound. It was, then, not unfathomable to see why the old creature had taken to her so much. The only question was why the old boy had allowed himself to fall into her sweet, cinnamon mouth as a morsel to be devoured, though he remained so undeserving.

You're setting up to be the victim, Remus, he thought, bitterly. Here you are pitying yourself when the girl's world is about to be shifted once more-fool! The axis has skidded beneath her feet one too many times for one so young.

He had almost forgotten in his own selfish misery the news which Albus had asked him to relay to the girl. Poor circumstances, really. Remus loathed to tell it to her and to see her slight lips pucker unfavorably and the sadness in her eyes.

The timid knock reached his ears.

"Come in, Hermione," he said, straightening his back. He bathed in the scent of cedar and vanilla as she crossed the threshold.

She smiled at him and took her customary seat on the couch-she poured herself a cup of tea familiarly. Two lumps of sugar, Remus mused. It was her ritual.

He could sense she was positively beaming with information. "What did Albus say?" he asked, finally, unable to withstand her unusually patient demeanor. The little vixen is trying to coax me!

"He approved," she said, her face bright and full. She crossed her legs beneath her on the cushion, wild curls spilling down the womanly curve of her chest. His eyes wanted to linger there a moment longer before returning to the precious view of her face. "He said that he would be glad to have me as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor-in a few years, of course."

Remus chuckled. "I don't doubt that you would be prepared after a summer's worth of training, but I'm sure that Albus will require a few years of our work."

The older man stood and crossed over towards Hermione. He looked down at her and she back to him-Remus noted how blatantly unaware the child seemed to his lengthened gaze. He smiled to her and sat next to her on the small couch. Unsure of just how to begin, Remus gently gathered the girl's hands in his own, rough palms. His pleasant gaze darkened on her puzzled face. She did not pull away from him.

"Hermione...there is something I must tell you. Albus did not want you to worry." He hesitated. Best to say it outright, old boy. "Hermione, your parents have been attacked-No, don't worry, dear, they're all right. They're resting in St. Mungo's as we speak."

Hermione jumped from the couch, red-faced, her pretty doe-eyes widened in fear. "What? How did..I mean..." Tears began to glimmer down her cheeks as Remus stood, grabbing her slight body into his embrace. His chin rested on her curls, taking in the sweetest honey scent-he was selfish for her even as she cried into his chest.

"It's all right, dear," he said into her tresses. Gently, he guided her back to the couch, keeping his greedy hold of her body. "It's all right, Hermione. They were hit by a stunning spell, that's all. Members of the Order had suspected Lucius-"

"Lucius!" Hermione pulled quickly from his chest, her eyes red and streaming. She seemed dazed for a second, lingering in thought, then rage began to spill across her face. "What...what happened?"

"It appears that Lucius was digging through information at the Ministry-they keep records of all witches and wizards in their library. And, as a Governor..." Remus paused, feeling his face glower from frustration. Hermione touched his cheek with her forefinger-she looked so beautifully miserable. Who is comforting whom, old boy? Remus covered her finger with his palm. "The Order has been spying on him for quite some time now. His defense, the Imperious Curse...Money bought him freedom, not redemption. They saved your parents, Hermione, but Lucius...he escaped us, once again."

Hermione paled, sliding her hand back into her lap. Remus suddenly missed her touch and reached for her again, pulling her into his chest. "Can I see them?" she asked. "They must be terrified."

"Muggles react differently to magic," Remus explained, stroking a hand down her back. "After a Stupify from a wizard with Lucius' power, your parents will take quite a while to recover. They will sleep for months, Hermione. Albus believes that it is best if you remain here. Lucius...he is obviously after you."

Her body stiffened against him. "Why is he after me, Remus? I mean...wouldn't Harry...Harry is-"

"I don't know, Hermione," Remus admitted. His hand lingered on her back, taking in the sweet warmth of her. The air in the room seemed to still as her breath slowed, splashing chills across his skin. "For all the Muggles know, your parents are on vacation."

Hermione chuckled at that. "They haven't taken a vacation in twenty years."

He smiled down at her, touching her ear beneath the wave of hair. "Then I believe they are quite overdue for a rest." It no longer startled him-the incredible desire to touch her. Now, as she lay against him, her hands pressed against his chest, he felt so close to that relization-love her! screamed the pit of him.

"The Headmaster suggested...I ask Professor Snape to study the arifacts." She pulled away to look up at him, her eyes red and perfect.

Remus' disgust was evident. "What does that...git know about them?"

"Obviously, he's researched them."

"I'm sure he has." Remus sighed, pulling her back against him. "I do not like the idea of you working with him. You are, after all, my apprentice." She him an approving Mmmmm. How quickly he became possessive. "I will make sure he behaves."

"Remus?"

"Mmmm?"

"I'm very tired."

----

Fuck!

The wound before him oozed it's dissent. He tapped his wand against it and cringed as the skin began to seal. The candle flicked and spat against the damp background of the mansion, licking him with light and exposing the angry slash of red across his abdomen. His body fanned across the black sheets-it was cool, there, in the evenings.

He had never Disapparated so quickly-the muggle-born whore's parents saved by the precious Order of the Old Man.

He would strike at her soon enough.

----

Severus sat at the small black desk, pulling his robe furiously from his shoulders and letting it sprawl across the stone floor. His eyes were black like rot-the disease spilling from him darkly and anger pulsating across his chest. He pulled out the drawer of the desk and retrieved the black hand-mirror, carvings of roses and vines etched across the casing. "Show me," he hissed. The pool of reflection began to shift until Severus' face was rippled as the surface of a pond-swirling, hissing, and spinning into oblivion. He saw nothing but blackness of the inside of Hermione's satchel before slamming the thing down and watching it shatter across the floor.

"Lupin."

----

When Hermione woke in the arms of her professor, watching his chest rise and fall in sleep, she smiled and closed her eyes. She had never slept so well as the night she lay with Remus on the worn burgundy couch.