A/N: So, I really prefer writing chapters where things are actually happening. This whole reflecting on their feelings thing isn't really my cup of tea, you know? Don't expect too much of it, and don't expect it written well…

Not a lot of Remus/Hermione action in this one, but I had to get the plot rolling somehow.

Remus rested his forehead against the cool, white door. He could still hear Hermione, his werewolf senses even more alert now, and had registered that she hadn't moved since he'd closed the door. "If I wanted to," he thought, taking ragged breaths, "I could open this door and—NO! Off limits Remus, she's off limits!" He physically shook himself, trying to get the image of Hermione's smile, lips, and freckled nose out of his mind. Finally, he managed to back himself into his own room, as far away from Hermione as possible, and crumpled in a corner with his head resting on his knees. Remus ran his hands through his sandy hair and laughed manically. "It's more dangerous for you here," he thought, leaning his head back against the wall. He sighed and listened to Hermione's footsteps finally retreat from their position in front of the door. Staying in his room right now simply wasn't going to be an option.

…………………………………………………………………..

Hermione heard his door open and briefly considered following him out. Her stomach hadn't settled since their almost-kiss and her hands were still shaking. She was sitting much in the same position she'd been in that morning, staring at her bedroom door. Part of her wanted desperately to see Remus come flying through it, the wolf in him glinting in his eye, while a second side of her was truly afraid of what that would yield. "That's twice," she thought to herself, still staring at her door. "In the bathroom—that was the second time it happened. At dinner I swear we were going to—" She was standing now, walking towards her bedroom door. "Obviously he wants me. He just has to." Her arm was extended, hand grasping the bronze doorknob, preparing to turn, when she heard the knock on her door.

Hermione froze.

She felt her grip tighten and her wrist turn, but she was completely outside herself. In her mind, Hermione was recalling everything she'd ever read about what she hoped was coming next. She was reminding herself to breathe through her nose and trying to remember where you were supposed to put your hands when the door finally opened completely. Blinking confusedly, Hermione exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and smiled at her two best friends.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, looking confused. "Are you alright?"

Hermione shook her head in an effort to focus. "I'm just fine Ron. What's going on?"

Ron looked unconvinced but continued anyway. "Harry figures he knows what brought Remus back so early."

………………………………………

Remus was pacing the living room floor, hands clasped behind his back, mumbling to himself. It was Moody that found him first.

"Remus," he said, drawing the werewolf's attention. He was leaning lightly against the antique couch's arm, his magical eye spinning, and he didn't look the least bit surprised to find Lupin in such a flustered state.

Remus nodded in the auror's direction, perfectly aware that an apology for his dinner behavior was expected. "Did you need something Allabastor?" He hadn't meant to sound rude or sharp, but his earlier situation with Hermione had put Lupin on edge.

Mad-eye, however, took no notice. "You know what I have to ask you," he said quietly.

"I do," Remus replied.

Moody nodded, but instead of pushing Lupin for an answer, he merely motioned towards the fireplace. "Dumbledore should be at Hogwarts by now. I think he'll find your answer much more enlightening than I ever could." Remus, who had started pacing again, stopped at this and stared up at the aged, haggard-looking auror. "We're glad to have you back Remus," Moody said, and he turned to reenter the kitchen.

"Mad-eye!" Remus called after him, and the man turned again. "Thank you."

Moody smiled back at his comrade-in-arms, but his magical eye seemed to look right through him.

………………………………………………

Remus was a mess when he entered the head-master's office. Soot from his floo powder trip clung to his worn robes and graying hair, and the dizzying sensation that had plagued him from his trip up from the kitchens had yet to disappear. "Albus," he whispered, pushing the office door open. Somehow, he knew Dumbledore would be expecting him. "Albus, are you here?" Remus could hear the scratch of a quill on paper, and suddenly the merry voice of Albus Dumbledore himself sounded from inside the office.

"Come in, come in," he said warmly, smiling at Remus over his half-moon spectacles. "I wasn't expecting you tonight." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling and along with an extra chair in front of his desk, the headmaster had also set out two glasses filled with an amber-colored liquid.

Remsus smiled. "Oh you weren't, were you?" But Dumbledore only laughed."So my boy, what brings you here so late?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and continued. "And, I suppose, so early?"

Noticing the expectancy in his old headmaster's voice, Remus quickly took a seat in the chair across from him. "Well sir," he started, picking up one of the glasses and staring at its contents. "That's exactly what I'm here about."

The headmaster nodded. "I see. I wonder then Remus, before you start, how much it is you know."

Remus looked up, momentarily distracted from his task. "What do you mean Albus?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully before answering. "It seems there have been some deaths in Voldemort's little pack. Four werewolves altogether and among them, I believe, was Fenrir Greyback. Do you know anything of this Remus?"

Remus nodded.

"Ah. And, would you happen to know who it was that killed him?" Though there was no contempt or judgment in Dumbledore's voice, Lupin couldn't help but feel defensive. He remained silent.

"My boy," Dumbledore said, ignoring the werewolf's silence. "Death will always be a tragedy—I am the first to say so—but at times, and specifically times like these, it will also be necessity."

…………………………………………..

"Hermione," Harry said, surprised by the expression his friend was wearing. "It's not like it's a bad thing."

The three friends had moved into Hermione's bedroom for privacy. Ron and Harry were sprawled out on the bed while Hermione stood in shocked attention.

"What do you mean it's not a bad thing?" She asked.

Ron stared at her. "I mean, we got the bad guy didn't we? No more Greyback to bite kids and stuff, right? Bugger Hermione, what's wrong with you?"

Hermione was just aware enough of herself to correct Ron's language. "Language Ronald," she chastised before returning to her thoughts. "Anyway, you know it can't possibly be that simple. If the solution was to take out Greyback Dumbledore would've had Lupin do it ages ago."

"Exactly Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, standing in excitement. "That was what Lupin's job was. And they weren't expecting him to be able to do it in such short time you know? That's why they're all shocked he's back so soon."

"Harry," Hermione said, shaking her head in frustration. "That wasn't Remus' job though. He was supposed to convince the werewolves to come on our side, not kill them!"

"Why are you talking about it like he did something wrong Hermione?" Ron asked, looking indignant. "It's not like a world without Fenrir is any worse."

"Ronald, that's not what I'm saying—" Hermione started in a frustrated tone, but before she could finish her sentence, a voice sounded from the door to her bathroom.