Hermione felt mortified and found herself trying to figure out how long Professor Lupin had been at the pub. Her ponderings were halted however when Professor Lupin held her by her upper arm and escorted her out of the seedy pub.

"Hermione what happened in there?" Lupin said being careful to keep his voice even, however Hermione could still hear the pangs of disappointment seeping through.

"I…I don't know. Maybe I should just Apparate home." Hermione said trying to avoid any embarrassment that she could.

"Hermione you are bright enough to know that if you try and Apparate in your condition, you will likely splinch yourself. It's late and you live only a few blocks from here so I shall walk you to your flat." Lupin couldn't understand why she was so uncomfortable. Sure she had done some stupid things inside, but if he had that much to drink he was sure he would have done worse.

"Thank you Professor. I'm sorry for the trouble I caused." Hermione said in a meek voice. She hated herself for acting the way she did inside. She was still horridly drunk, but even in her inebriated state she recognized what she did as…very "un-Hermioneish"

"Never mind that. Perhaps next time you go out you'll take Ginny though." They continued walking on. It was almost one in the morning. A crescent moon peaked over the buildings. Lupin was enjoying this late night stroll. The crisp autumn air was a welcome change from the stuffiness of the indoors. He looked over at Hermione and noted that she couldn't walk in a straight line and chuckled softly.

"What are you laughing at Professor?" Hermione asked quizzically.

"You." He smiled at her before he elaborated, "You can't seem to walk in a straight line can you."

Hermione was about to deny it all when she noticed he was just joking with her. However before she could make a retort she tripped on her own foot. Lupin with his wolfish instincts caught her before any harm was done. It was when she was in his arms that he first realized that she was beautiful. Her limber figure rested so perfectly in his arms. Her curls, no longer frizzy and unbearable stray hairs were now soft ringlets that fell gracefully across her neck and shoulders. Her sharp eyes slightly dulled by the alcohol were wide open in shock that the fall had caused. He was staring at her cherry lips when he nearly dropped her. What's come over me? He righted her and cleared his throat.

"I guess you were right about me having trouble walking." Hermione blushed and continued, "Thank you again, Professor."

"Any time," Lupin contemplated if that was the right response and continued, "Do you have a coffee maker at your flat?"

"Yes. Would you like to come in when we get there I could fix you a cup?" Hermione asked. She couldn't believe what she was doing. She knew she had a crush on him, but did she have to be so damn obvious. She was thoroughly berating herself when Lupin made his reply.

"I was thinking that you needed some, but a little coffee would be nice." Lupin said letting his eyes linger on her a little too long.

"Okay." Hermione couldn't think of anything else to say. She was dumbfounded to think that she had invited him into her apartment alone and he accepted.

The two of them talked very little as they made their way up to flat #7. Hermione dug around her purse mumbling something about "can't ever find them when you need to." And she put the brass key into the lock and with a faint click the door opened. She felt something brush passed her feet and she looked down.

"Dammit!" Hermione swore.

"What's wrong?" said a very confused Lupin. Perhaps he had done something.

"Oh, it's nothing really. It's just that Margaret got in," Hermione said with a sigh.

"Margaret??"

"Margaret is Mrs. Brinker's calico and she's very…" Hermione paused trying to think of the right word, "forward with Crookshanks and I don't really think it would be very good for Crookshanks to father kittens. Can you imagine how odd they would look?"

"He's not the most beautiful feline," Lupin chuckled.

And with that they were on a hunt to find Margaret. They both nearly doubled over laughing when the found her chasing Crookshanks around Hermione's bedroom. Lupin was the one who caught the cat and looked at Hermione expectantly for instructions.

"Well, we can't really knock on Mrs. Brinker's door at this hour. We'll have to lock her in the bathroom," Hermione smiled.

After Margaret had been locked away and a silencing spell stopped the horrible mewing noises from within the bathroom, Lupin and Hermione went to the kitchen. Hermione began fixing up the coffee while Lupin grabbed some mugs from the drying rack next to the sink. They talked and sipped their coffee for about an hour when Hermione noticed the time.

"I can't believe it's nearly three," she said with a hint of a stifled yawn.

"Indeed," Lupin said not masking his yawn, "I should be on my way."

"But don't you live over by Edinburgh?" Hermione asked, "That's an awful long way to Apparate if you're tired."

"I live in Perth, but I should be able to make it without any trouble." He yawned again and was about to Apparate when Hermione scolded him.

"Don't be ridiculous that's about 500km. And I really wouldn't want to explain to dear Mrs. Brinker why there's half a man's body in my apartment when she retrieves her cat tomorrow." Hermione said the last part with a smile, but Lupin knew she would hex him if he were stubborn enough to try anyway. He knew she was right, but he would feel rather awkward if he had to tell her that he didn't have the money to rent a room. However, he didn't see a choice.

"Hermione, I really should go. I haven't them money to go to a hotel." He said rather sheepishly.

"Oh." Hermione faltered only a second before she added, "Well you'll have to stay here then." She could hardly believe she had said that. What would her dear mother do if she found out that this whole night started from reading her Three Terrific Tips for Turbulent Times.

"Umm. I don't think that I should intrude anymore-" Lupin said with obvious discomfort.

"That couch over there is a pullout and I have extra sheets in the closet. It wouldn't be a problem." Hermione found herself hoping beyond hope that he'd say yes. If he said yes she thought that maybe…

"If you do not think it'll be too troublesome, though I wonder what Mrs. Brinker will say if she saw a whole man sleeping on your couch." He teased.

"She'd probably say something about it being about time." She elaborated when she saw Lupin's confused face, "She's always asking me when I'm going to get a new beau." The words had hardly left her lips when she realized how awkward that would make things. She was too busy thinking of a million things she could say to do damage control to notice that Lupin had closed the space between them.

"Well we can hardly disappoint dear Mrs. Brinker can we?" Hermione looked taken aback at his words. She could feel his warm breath on her neck and felt butterflies start flying in her stomach. Her mouth was dry when she spoke next.

"No we can't," Hermione said. Although she was agreeing with him, he misconstrued her words to mean that she was not interested. Lupin took a step back and turned a violent red.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I don't know what came over-" Realizing what he thought, Hermione stopped his apologies with a kiss. Lupin's eyes snapped open wide. It was a soft kiss and her body was leaning gently against his. He held her firmly and began to kiss her back with more fervor. A soft moan escaped Hermione's lips and Lupin found himself in heaven. He put his tongue against her lips, which immediately opened, and he began exploring her mouth, tasting the coffee she had drank. A hand ran through his graying hair, while the other rested on his back holding him close. Lupin broke the kiss at long last and gazed into Hermione's eyes.

"Oh, Hermione," Lupin sighed.

"Mm-hmm," She replied.

"I'm so sorry." Lupin looked pained and remorseful.

"But what? I don't understand." Hermione protested.

"I can't do this Hermione." Lupin said as he stepped back. He hated himself for doing this. He wasn't any better than Cy at this point. I'm worse he thought. He couldn't meet her gaze as he walked towards the door.