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"How do you feel?"
"Horrible."
"Hmmm… well I'm no healer… but let me see what I can do…"
Hermione lifted herself up from the floor and slinked her way up his long, lean legs to straddle his lap. The plush armchair was wide enough for her to settle her knees either side of his thighs and she draped her arms lazily on top of his broad shoulders.
Her fingers danced at the back of his neck, playing with the tendrils of hair that rested there, as she cocked her head to the side in a considering manner.
"What about this?" She said as she leaned down to touch her own lips with his.
The kiss was soft and lingering but she had pulled away before Remus had had a chance to respond.
His eyes widened in surprise but now keen to the game she was playing he felt only the need to partake in her 'healing'.
She didn't wait for a response to her question and lent in almost immediately again. "Or this?" she asked, tilting her head in another direction, angling the kiss to the opposite side of his mouth.
Again the kiss was soft and sweet, and just as Remus' lips moved against hers she pulled away, a knowing smile curving her pink lips.
Denied, Remus growled, his hands lifting to cup her buttocks and pull her into him.
She yelped in playful surprise, her small hands gripping his larger shoulders to steady her upper half.
This time it was Remus to initiate the kiss, hard and powerful, full of lust, his tongue demanding access to the full extent of her mouth.
Once satisfied, he allowed her to collapse into his embrace, her head resting on his shoulder and his hands moving up to stroke her back affectionately.
"How was the ball?" He asked after a long moment of silence.
"Horrible."
Christmas came and passed.
James' parents had gone away for the holidays and so, not wanting to be separated, the boys had all chosen to stay at the castle.
Hermione was glad for the company, keeping her distracted in a time that she would usually have spent with her own family.
Sirius had questioned at one point about her returning home to her 'family' for the holidays, and not wanting to lie about the 'parents' Dumbledore had given her but about who she knew nothing about she had deflected the question, replying that she would still be with family because she had her 'Uncle Albus' there.
However, since this parental/holiday conversation Remus, to Hermione's endless frustration, had suddenly decided to become more distant.
At first she had been worried that he had been suspicious of her answer and for days was sure that he was on the verge on confronting her about her deception.
But the holidays passed without confrontation, or anything else she would add bitterly as the days passed and the emptied girls' dormitory remained to be not taken advantage of.
Just when Hermione had been sure that she had found someone that she truly cared for and (she had thought) cared for her back things had seemed to taken a step back. Remus and Hermione had only shared kisses but the passion and lust had been escalating to a point where Hermione was sure that soon one of them would soon break their chasteness. And just when Hermione had mentally prepared herself for that enviable point in their relationship, when she had been in fact looking forward to it, and hoping for Remus to take the initiative, he suddenly seemed disinterested.
When she would go to sit on his lap he wouldn't outright deny her access but no less than five minutes later he would need to go upstairs to retrieve a book he had forgotten, or remembered a letter he forgot to post, or needed to use the bathroom, or just about anything to abstract himself from her.
They would still kiss, but only when other people were around so as to be sure it was simple and short.
Sure that he was only delaying their break-up now, and positive that everyone else knew it too, Hermione made her way, sullenly, to the Headmasters office, on his summons, on a chilly afternoon in late January.
"Ah, Hermione," Dumbledore welcomed her and gestured for her to take a seat in front of his desk.
He didn't take his seat behind it but instead took the one next to her own.
It made Hermione feel more relaxed but at the same time it was disconcerting to see the old, wise wizard on equal grounds with herself. It made his often assumed omniscience seem very childish, squashing her hopes that this extraordinary wizard could somehow get her home, because he, being Dumbledore, could do anything … right?
After he had conjured two goblets of steaming hot coco, Dumbledore explained that he had for some weeks been trying to contact an old friend of his, a retired wizard by the name of Albert Waffling –
"You mean the Albert Waffling? The famous magical theoretician?"
Dumbledore chuckled at her amazement "Yes, the very same."
He continued that since their own mutual search through known magical theory of time travel had reached an unsatisfying conclusion, namely none, he had finally tracked down his old comrade and had presented him with a theoretical question of extreme time travel.
"I hope you do not mind, but it came to the point where Albert would no longer believe my theoretical ponderings to be purely based upon a hypothetical situation and after some thought I conceded to tell him the watered down tale of your position."
Although apprehensive, Hermione trusted Dumbledore's choice, knowing he only had the best interests in mind for her.
"Unfortunately, even with the details, Albert's conclusion may be of little use to us. He seemed to be of the opinion that the details regarding your time travel and more specific the actual device that facilitated the move will dictate the rules of your return."
Hermione sighed reluctantly, "That makes sense," she admitted. "It would explain the reason that there are no determined facts about this kind of phenomenon. I mean – if there was never a device known that could facilitate extreme time travel they wouldn't have anything but a theoretical idea and even then how can you theorize about a device that doesn't exist or have plans of construction?"
"Sadly, I'm inclined to agree also," Dumbledore said softly, almost apologetically.
"Am I also correct to assume that you are not familiar with the device that has sent you back to us?" he asked already knowing the answer.
Hermione shook her head, not looking up but instead examining her hands that were resting in her lap. She was disappointed but it was no so poignant to make her really upset, she had been preparing for this after all.
"It does not mean that you may never return Hermione," Dumbledore reminded her gently. "What we can only assume is that, since the device did not make the journey with you, your return, it is to say, is not in your hands."
They sat in silence for a while, letting it all sink in.
"Thank you, Professor" Hermione said, finally looking up.
"Your welcome, child" Dumbledore smiled. "I'm glad to see at least that you have taken my advice in settling in here, in this time. I can't help to notice that you have seemed to have made a few friends, perhaps even more so with one young man in particular?"
Hermione let out a small laugh at his gentle prodding but it quickly diminished as her thoughts turned to the 'young man' he was referring to.
"Remus Lupin has had a … a somewhat troubled life," Dumbledore continued, omniscience returning full force.
"I know that Professor," Hermione admitted exasperatedly.
Slightly surprised Dumbledore reclined back into his chair, considering the bright young witch in front of him.
"You figured it out?" he questioned cautiously.
She laughed abstractedly, "In a way, I guess."
"Have you thought of telling him that you are aware?" Dumbledore continued.
Hermione's brow furrowed in slight annoyance. The subject felt close to her and she didn't see where Dumbledore was going with his line of questioning. Did he think she could trap Remus, tell him that she knew his secret and not allow him to break up with her as he was so obviously planning? Did Dumbledore just want to rub it in?
Hermione shook these ridiculous thoughts about the kind man in front of her out of her mind.
"What would be the point, sir?" she asked, her resolute sadness etching every syllable.
"He came to see me. Did you know?" his tone seemed genuinely inquisitive.
"No."
"Apparently in the happiness your presence has inspired in these last few months it had slipped his mind that I was, as we had advertised, your 'uncle'."
"Sir?" she questioned, understanding escaping her grasp.
"He thought to seek me out to apologize for endangering you. He thought it a betrayal – of a kind – to start dating my niece when I had, in his words, done so much for him. I admit that it was trying to get him accepted into the school, past the board of governors, but I want you to know that I have never and will never hold anything against that young man."
"I know sir," Hermione felt to reassure him. "But then, what did you tell him?"
"Well, not knowing your own extent of knowledge on Remus' condition, I only went so far to assure him of my acquiescence towards any relationship but suggested it might be prudent that you were made aware of the circumstances before the relationship progressed."
Hermione didn't even wince at Dumbledore's allusion to her 'progressing' relationship but instead sat stock still in her chair as all the bits of information fell neatly into place.
As each piece revealed Remus' recent strange behavior her anger steadily increased.
She rose from the chair, her anger expressed in her balled fists, clenched by her sides.
She thanked the Headmaster once more but left before he had the chance to return her farewell. So intent was she on her destination she ran into no less than five students headed on their way down to dinner. She wondered if he had gone down already what she would do. As luck would have it she didn't have to decide. He was there. And alone.
She walked into the common room and spotted him immediately in his usual chair near the fire. There was no-one else there so she didn't have to wait.
Unlucky for Remus who was intent on avoiding her gaze he did not realize her temper until it was too late, Hermione two feet away when he stood from his chair.
He wasn't on his feet for much more than a second before two small but firm hands pushed him roughly backwards sending him sprawled backwards on to his seat.
"Hermione? What –?" he started raising himself up again.
"Where you EVER going to tell me?" She shouted pushing him back down. Her hair crackled with energy, the ends lifting slightly, creating a fierce image of magic and fury combined.
"Hermione, I don't know what you're –"
"You thought you'd rather let me go than tell me your secret?" she continued, ignoring his interruption.
"Tell me Remus! Tell me what you were thinking because it really can't be anything worse than what I am imagining!"
When it seemed apparent that she wanted a response Remus could barely remember what she had asked, only one thought reverberated through his mind: she knew.
"Who – who told you?" he asked, panic written on his face.
Immediately he knew it was the wrong thing to say, her shoulders slumped and her face fell as if he had just stolen her last the hope in the world, irrationally he suddenly wanted the angry Hermione back, anything being better than this defeated one.
"Don't worry," she said as if she was no longer interested in this conversation. "I worked it out myself and I'm not going to tell anyone."
"H- How?" he asked, unsure of what to say but not wanting her to leave just yet.
"I had a friend. I know the signs." It wasn't a lie after all.
"I- I ummm … How long have you known for?"
"Since before this started," she stated gesturing between them.
"You've – I mean – You've known this whole time?"
She didn't answer, he already knew.
"But I – I just thought, if you'd known, you wouldn't have wanted … It really doesn't matter to you?" he asked incredulous and scared of her answer at the same time.
"Of course not Remus. I love you."
The words just slipped out, but as soon as she had said them she knew they were true. Hot, thick tears burned her eyes and she turned away from him to hide her embarrassment. The words were true but she wished she hadn't said them, the sting of a love unreturned piercing her lungs and denying her breath.
Seconds passed like hours and she couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. And like a child that had just had a very tiring day, she just wanted to go home.
She hadn't realized her shoulders were shaking until strong arms steadied them.
"Breathe," he whispered his own breath warm on her cheek. "Just breathe."
She did. Slowly, but surely, allowing the air to fill her starved lungs.
Without the energy to fight she allowed him to lead her to sit down on one of the empty leather couches. He sat beside her, placing himself to face her.
She couldn't look at him but his hand lifted her chin giving her no choice.
Through her own tear clogged eyes she met his.
"I'm so sorry Hermione." He whispered his voice croaky, like she imagined hers would be.
He released her chin but she stayed where she was.
"I was so selfish," his voice implored her to listen. "I just didn't think I could bear you to reject me if I had told you what I … what I really am."
She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, but he shook it off and captured her hands in his instead, squeezing them gently.
"I'm not so stupid. I know what my life will contain once I leave these walls. I will be so lucky to meet half as many people as I know now that will accept me for who I am. I just couldn't stand you rejecting me, because … because… well because – I love you. Too much to –"
He didn't finish as a soft body had thrown itself at his chest. Her wet cheeks pressed against him as their lips met. The kiss was nowhere near screen worthy, no great sonnets would be written about it, it was sloppy and wet, but mostly it was the physical expression of their desperation to feel one another again. Just to feel.
His hands wrapped around her back to press her closer. Their lips finally separated as their lungs both screamed for air and her hands, wrapped tightly around his neck, threatened to deny him breath.
"I love you My," he whispered placing a kiss upon her forehead and turning his cheek to rest his head on top of hers. Her grip around his neck had loosened but she showed no signs of letting go, and he for one hoped that she never did, because in that moment he was sure that he was never going to let her go.