At five to seven the following Friday Remus stepped into the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place. The old house bore hardly any resemblance to the dark and filthy hole it had been when the Order had first used it. Harry had moved in after the war and with the help of Kreacher and a team of wizard decorators had changed everything. All the dark colours and dusty tapestries had gone, to be replaced with light paint and bright pictures. The wall which had once been dominated by the Black family tree was now a memorial to all the fallen from the war, the Black brothers, Dumbledore, Lily and James, Fred, Severus Snape and Colin Creevey bore pride of place, but there was the name of all the light who gave their life's on there too. As Remus left the drawing room he smiled at the picture on the hall wall. It had proved impossible to remove Mrs Black's portrait but Hermione had come up with a way round that. She placed a permanent silencing charm on the old hag, covered over the picture with plaster, then for Harry's nineteenth birthday she had Dean Thomas copy a picture onto the space left. Now visitors were greeted by the smiling faces of Sirius, James, Lily and Remus, with a baby Harry in Lily's arms.
It was a home now, not just to Harry but for a while to Ron, who had moved in when his mother's well meant nagging had got too much. Ginny followed straight from Hogwarts, much to Molly's disapproval, and Hermione, although she didn't live there, saying she knew from painful experience how hard living with Harry and Ron was, was round several evenings a week. Ron had left after a few months of walking in on Ginny and Harry all over the house, but he still had a room for the occasions when Harry hosted boys' nights and Ron was too drunk to get himself home. Molly had been beside herself when Ron left, saying that an unmarried couple living together could only lead to trouble, but Ginny had refused to return to the Burrow, and as the pair were due to be married in two months Molly's protests had quietened of late.
Finding that there was no sign of life where he was Remus headed towards the kitchen, figuring that would be the most logical gathering point, there were Weasley's involved after all. Just as he reached the stairs Hermione walked up them, her arms full of table cloth. Remus opened his mouth to greet her, but as she stepped onto the top step she tripped over a trailing end and fell forward. For the third time in a few days Remus found himself with his arms full of a blushing Hermione, but he was finding that he really didn't mind all that much.
"Thanks, you seem to be making a habit of saving me from breaking my face on the floor. I swear I'm getting as clumsy as To..." Hermione stopped suddenly as she realised who she was speaking to. "As no-one in particular." She finished lamely. Remus smiled sadly, the reminder stung but he appreciated her terrible attempt to avoid mentioning his ex.
"Honestly, every time I see you two you're in each other's arms lately. Something you're not sharing, hmm?" George had come out of the kitchen and was looking at the pair at the top of the stairs with an amused expression, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. At his words Remus realised that his hands were still on Hermione's waist where he had caught her, and he quickly let go and stepped back. Hermione blushed bright pink as she replied.
"I tripped carrying the tablecloth and Remus stopped me falling, that's all."
"Tripped over the tablecloth? That's the oddest euphemism for 'hanky-panky in the hall' I've ever heard." George grinned wickedly. Hermione blushed even harder and ducked into the dining room, muttering something incoherent about "bloody Weasley's think they're funny."
With a concerned glance after the flustered witch Remus followed George into the kitchen, trying not to think about how well his hands fitted on the curve of her waist, or how pretty she looked with her cheeks stained pink. Stop it you lecherous old pervert. Just because she's been so kind since Dora left it does not give you an excuse to think of her like that. Besides, it's been made perfectly clear that successful, attractive witches want nothing at all to do with you. So give it a bloody rest.
George noticed that Remus was preoccupied, and grinned wickedly to himself. He was pretty sure neither of them had figured it out, but there was definitely something there. Hermione never blushed, and usually responded to the suggestive comments thrown at her by her various male friends with either witty responses or offensive hand gestures. For her to run away mumbling spoke volumes. As for Remus, there was no way his hands needed to linger on her waist for that long, and he had stared at Hermione all through brunch the other day. They were clearly attracted, and as a dutiful friend it was his job to push them in the right direction. For which he was going to need Ginny's help.
He used Remus greeting Harry as cover and slipped over to Ginny. "I need to talk to you. In private, before dinner." Ginny looked puzzled at her brother's mysterious tone but nodded anyway.
"Uh oh, Weasleys whispering in corners, that's never a good sign." Harry said.
"Shush you, and do something useful. Take some butter beers and a bottle or two of mead upstairs would you? Hello Remus, glad you could make it, could you take those plates up to Hermione and give her hand with the table?" Remus smiled as he followed the fiery little redhead's instructions. She was so like her mother it was really very funny. Somehow he didn't think she would appreciate the sentiment however. George lent down and began whispering in Ginny's ear as Remus headed up the stairs to give Hermione the plates. Maybe he could apologise for making her uncomfortable as well, if he got a chance.
Hermione was still muttering to herself as she flicked her wand at the tablecloth and it soared into the air and landed perfectly on the table. She smiled softly, remembering how long it used to take her a little girl when she would help her mother prepare for dinner parties, how difficult it was to get the cloth straight the muggle way. The gentle reminder of how much she loved being a witch and the things which went with it did wonders to improve her mood as she continued with her task. She couldn't hide her blush, however, when Remus walked into the room. She wasn't sure why she had reacted like she did to George's comment, it wasn't out of the ordinary, or even particularly suggestive for him. So why had she run away feeling like her face was on fire? If she was honest with herself she rather liked the way Remus' hands felt on her waist and the feel of his defined chest under her hands. He made her feel so safe, and his smell was just masculine but in a gentle sort of way... Stop that! He's just come out of a nasty break-up, he's your former teacher, and he would never look twice at a bushy-haired know it all half his age. Even if he would, which he wouldn't, you'd just be a rebound or taking advantage of his vulnerability, so stop perving on the poor guy, and say something since he looks so awkward and it's your fault for behaving like a hormonal teenager.
"Um, thanks for bringing the plates up." She said, without looking at him.
"It's fine, I'm glad to help. Besides," he grinned, "Ginny gives orders so like Molly that I do as she says without thinking about it." Hermione giggled and met his laughing eyes.
"Don't tell her that, you'll find yourself on the end of one of her bat-bogey hexes. She hates being compared to Molly. George tells her she should act less like her in that case. Then he runs away."
"What a stunning case of Gryffindor braveness." Remus said, rolling his eyes.
"Those who scream and run away live to fight another day. And there's nothing quite as scary as a pissed off Weasley woman."
"True. Although rumour has it you can be quite intimidating yourself. Brilliant but scary is the term used I think." He teased her lightly, causing her to blush again.
Hermione laughed. "That was Ron, I'm not that scary, I'm just scarier than him."
"I think I'll stay on your good side, just in case." He said, shooting her a cheeky grin. What am I doing, flirting with the girl. Hopefully she won't realise.
Is he flirting? He can't be. It's just his inner marauder coming out or something. There's no way he'd be flirting with me. She blushed again and quickly turned to pick up some glasses for the table. Behind her Remus smiled, he knew he shouldn't be doing this, but all his inner condemnations faded to nothing when he saw how pretty she looked when she ducked her head coyly, her cheeks tinged pink once more. This wasn't a game he should play, but he couldn't help it. Besides, a little harmless flirtation couldn't hurt anyone, could it?