He had risked everything for her and there was still no answer; Remus was a wreck. Since she had left him in the entrance hall two weeks previously he had been keeping his own company, avoiding James, Sirius and Peter, choosing to sit alone rather than with Lily or Alice, and turning down Frank's challenges. He had closeted himself in the very back of the Library and tried to work on his homework; for the first time in his life, it wasn't working.
He was so afraid of her answer that he was barely sleeping and food held no attraction for him. Lily had been the first to notice the change in him, and had – unusually – immediately asked James, who had since been keeping a close eye on him.
He and Sirius were shooting him worried glances over their breakfasts as he picked at his toast; Peter, who had remembered an uncompleted essay at two in the morning and had spent much of the night feverishly scribbling, was snoring loudly, his head tucked into one arm, a plateful of bacon under the other.
"What's up, mate?" asked James, suddenly. "You're scaring us."
Remus looked up, surprised. There weren't many people around – they had been late down to breakfast because Peter had simply refused to wake up. In the end, Sirius had simply hoisted the slumbering boy over his shoulder while James carried his bag full of essays.
But then, James wouldn't have said anything at all if there had been anyone to hear them.
"I'm fine," he said, unconvincingly. He ignored the twin looks of incredulity and stared stubbornly at his plate.
Movement beside him suggested that he wasn't fooling anyone.
Broom polish, bacon, firewhiskey and a slight hint of wet dog, he thought. Even Sirius's scent made no attempt at subtlety.
"Come on mate," he said, and Remus glanced up to find his friend sat on the table next to him.
"Really, I'm fine," Remus repeated. "You're sitting on a plate of sausages," he added, conversationally.
"Am I? Bugger!" Sirius said, as he squirmed about, trying to get grease and ketchup off the back of his trousers.
He caught a movement at the Hufflepuff table as James sniggered; apparently Sirius's antics had caught the attention of Jenny's friends. She was just as beautiful as ever, though she wasn't smiling; she met his eyes almost sadly, and he balked.
Grabbing his bag, he practically ran out of the Great Hall, raising more than a few eyebrows.
James stared after him, stunned, but Sirius had twisted round to see what had set his friend running, and caught Jenny's eye.
'Is he ok?' she mouthed, and Sirius shrugged, frowning, asking the same question of her with the nod of his head.
It was Jenny's turn to shrug, and it was all the answer he needed.
"I'm going after Remus," he said, grabbing the remains of his breakfast and charging out of the Hall.
James, who was used to much quieter breakfasts, sighed, and went back to the serious business of seeing what he could balance on Peter before he woke up.
0o0
"You and Jenny broke up?" Sirius panted, having chased Remus halfway through the school; they were heading for Herbology, so it was quite a way when you were simultaneously trying to run, call your friend's name and eat your bacon sandwich.
Remus slowed down so that he could catch up, which Sirius took to mean 'yes'.
"But you guys were great together, what happened?"
"I –" he paused to let some third year Ravenclaws charge past. "I told her…"
Sirius choked on the remains of his sandwich.
"What?" he managed, when Remus had stopped hitting him on the back.
"It was only fair," his friend said, with a pained expression.
"But – what if she – sweet Merlin, Remus, what were you thinking?"
He shrugged, and Sirius understood. He mentally backed down a notch.
"You love her, don't you…"
Remus took a few moments before answering, and Sirius could see the hurt in his eyes.
"Yes," he said softly. "And now she thinks I'm a monster."
0o0
It had not been a good Herbology lesson, what with a near comatose Peter on one side, and Sirius on the other…
Remus was beginning to think that a lot of things would be made better if Sirius would stop trying to cheer him up.
He felt her eyes on him all through the class, but after the look she'd given him at breakfast he didn't dare look up; he pruned his Flutterby bush despondently and was only surprised out of his funk when James managed (somehow) to set his bush on fire. The resulting chaos was actually quite entertaining, in a perverse way, and it at least got rid of Sirius, who was required to escort his rather dazed friend to the Hospital Wing as Professor Sprout, Alice and Jenny tried to calm the distraught and shaking plant.
He turned back to his own specimen and tried to ignore the scent of her, much stronger now as she was so much closer; he passed the weed-spray to Peter (who had finally woken up to the class shouting and yelling, trying to escape flailing tendrils) and forbade himself from thinking about how much he wanted to just turn around and catch her hand…
He would pull her to him, then, and she would tell him that he was being daft – of course she didn't care about a silly little thing like lycanthropy – and he would kiss her until either he couldn't breathe anymore or Professor Sprout noticed and walloped them both on the head with the nearest gardening implement.
So intent he was about not thinking any of that, that he completely missed Jenny slipping a scrap of parchment into his pocket before she rejoined her partner across the Greenhouse from him.
He snapped out of his daydreams, bittersweet as they were, with Peter shaking him slightly, looking mildly worried.
"You alright, mate? You were miles away…"
"Sorry Pete," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Didn't get much sleep last night…"
Well, it was a half truth at least, he told himself.
Peter nodded sympathetically.
"I think I've caught up on mine this morning," he said, sheepishly, and Remus smiled.
"Hey, at least you got that essay done – Kettleburn's got a new shipment of mutant scorpions he wants help with."
Peter shuddered.
"I know," he said. "Nothing quite like the thought of staring down a ten-foot angry arachnid to get your creative juices flowing. I've never written an essay that fast in my life."
"Come on," said Remus, wearily. "Let's see what lunch is before Sirius and James get back from the Hospital Wing and eat it all…"
0o0
Her scent had been following him around all day, and he just couldn't work it out. There was no way she could have followed him into the Gryffindor dorms to pick up the afternoon's books, and she wasn't in Transfiguration or Arithmancy with him…
So why couldn't he get away from that intoxicating aroma?
It made it impossible to work.
He shut his book with an angry snap and glared around the small space he'd found tucked between two bookcases at the very back of the library. As frightened as he was, his forced inactivity was frustrating as hell; he ran his hands through his hair, tousling it up into little spikes, and leaned backwards in his chair. Generally, being a Prefect, he frowned on such behaviour, and would even employ sticking charms in an underhand attempt to prevent James or Sirius from giving themselves concussion, but back here, with nobody watching, he relaxed: resting his heels on the table in front of him and stretching his long limbs out so he was practically horizontal.
Being a Prefect was not, he conceded, necessarily all it was cracked up to be (though he'd be buggered if he ever admitted this to anyone). He closed his eyes, mentally running through possible sources for his Ancient Runes homework; it was little use, though, he'd managed five minutes of scholarly oblivion before that gorgeous mix of honey and roses crept back into his consciousness, tormenting him with promises of sweetness and soft lips.
He scowled, and opened his eyes, glaring at the ceiling; a large spider stared back at him, dispassionately.
"You too, eh?" he grumbled. "I just can't win…"
His stomach rumbled; he's missed dinner again, and Lily – gods only know how she knew, but she always did, like she had a sixth sense for depression in the student body – or Sirius would probably make another attempt at cheering him up when he eventually showed his face…
He gave a pleased little start when he remembered the packet of Droobles he had hastily stuffed into his pocket before History of Magic (well, you never knew when you'd need a little chemical help to stay awake with Binns). Still leaning back as far as he could go, he reached into his pockets; nothing in the left one, just a random bit of string and a Muggle paper-clip (he still couldn't get over the ingenuity of the thing).
Aha! he thought, triumphantly, his fingers closing around the packet.
That was funny, he didn't remember picking up any scraps of parchment…
He popped a cherry flavoured Drooble into his mouth and unfolded what turned out to be a note.
And promptly fell off the chair.
0o0
Remus paced the corridor in a state of high agitation, periodically reaching up and rubbing the bump on his head.
It was midnight, and most of the school was asleep (or, at least, in their dormitories); he'd had to duck behind a few tapestries on the way to avoid patrolling ghosts. He'd considered asking to borrow James's Invisibility Cloak, but that would have meant telling James why he needed it, and he'd rather not see the pitying look on his friend's face. It wasn't too much of a problem – with the exception of the ghosts, who had no scent – he could smell people coming two corridors away.
Besides, the portraits were too used to his sneaking about with his friends and patrolling as a Prefect to worry about what he was up to… he just hoped that Jenny didn't get caught.
He took her note out of his pocket and unfolded it for the twentieth time that day. It was simple, and to the point:
'Midnight: outside the kitchens.'
It wasn't signed, but the scent of her was all over it; it must have been on her, in her pocket all day. Doing his best to ignore the path that his thoughts threatened to take at that realisation, he stiffened. Someone was coming.
He stepped backwards into the shade of a Tapestry, waiting for their scent to resolve itself into familiarity.
Why in gods name had she wanted to meet here, of all places? He admired her gall, in many ways, but this had to be the busiest corridor in terms of illicit activities in all of Hogwarts colourful history. He could smell the trails left by a wide range of staff and students, hours ago now, that had crept down to the kitchens and carried away stolen treats (although, given the House Elves' enthusiasm, it was hardly stealing, really).
He sniffed the air, experimentally: there was no doubt, it was definitely Jenny. His powerful ears picked up the sound of her footsteps as she approached the corridor: she was hurrying, and that alone gave him the slightest shred of hope. It wasn't much, given the circumstances, but it was enough to make him step out of the shadows and wait for her in the torchlight.
"Hi," she said, awkwardly, as she saw him. She looked almost surprised to see him, as if she'd thought he might not turn up.
"Hi," he echoed, staring at her. Her hair looked like spun gold in the torchlight, and he longed to reach out and touch it, to feel its softness between his fingers once more.
He wished his body would make up its mind: half of it appeared to be dealing with the situation by going entirely numb, which was a good deal better than his stomach, which had turned to jelly. He swallowed, hoping to disabuse his heart of the idea that escape could be had through his oesophagus.
Jenny bit her lip.
"Are you ok?" she asked. "You were really pale at breakfast…"
Remus shrugged; at least she still cared enough to ask him.
"I haven't told anyone," she assured him, and he managed a slight smile.
"I know," he said. "I'd have found out by now if you had, Hogwarts being what it is… besides, you promised you wouldn't," he added, as if such a thing was binding. With her, it was.
Jenny smiled at him, and his heart had another go at impersonating Harry Houdini.
"I'm glad you told me," she said quietly. "It would have been a horrible shock if I'd found out by myself."
Hope dissipating at her choice of words, he simply nodded. He wasn't sure he trusted his voice not to get carried away with itself and declare his undying love.
"I've come to a decision," she said, carefully, and his beleaguered heart sank.
"And?" he managed to ask, after a few moments of tortuous silence.
"This," she said, and stepped forwards.
He was utterly astonished to find her lips on his – soft, and warm, and inviting – so astonished that he could neither respond nor form the sentences necessary to demand an explanation.
"Wh-"
She even tasted of honey, his mind registered dimly, as she kissed him again, more soundly. This time, he had the presence of mind to kiss her back – after all, it might be the last chance he'd ever get if she came to her senses and realised she was kissing a werewolf, of all things – and he sighed as her tongue slipped between his lips.
It was a while before they parted, breathless and pink, and considerably longer before Remus regained enough composure to ask:
"Was that your decision then?" he asked, timidly.
"Yes," she said, her eyes sparkling at him as he broke out into a wide grin. "Would you like me to repeat it?"
"Absolutely," he said, and she laughed – it was strangely musical after the interminable silence of the past weeks.
"So," she asked, as he walked her back to her Common Room, a good hour later. "Are you going to ask me to Hogsmeade next weekend?"
His features darkened.
"Are you sure you're all right with me being…"
"Look, Remus, it's not all the time, and I know you. You wouldn't hurt a fly."
"Yes, but," he tried again, not wanting her to make the mistake of falling for him.
"I don't care," she said, fiercely. "I might have, if you hadn't told me, but you did. I trust you." She smiled slightly at his expression and added: "Besides, I'm not much fun to be around for three days of the month."
0o0o0o0
"Really, Sirius?" Jenny demanded. "That's the most sensible thing you could come up with? Propelling people around the classroom on levitating furniture?"
If it had been anyone other than Jenny, he would have laughed, but Sirius was well aware of the dangers associated with annoying Professor Sprout's favourite student.
"I didn't say it was sensible," he said, holding his hands up in a placating manner. "I just said I was bored."
Jenny scowled at him; despite his pounding headache, Remus smiled. She was doing a passable impression of an enraged Lily Evans. Her face was red from shouting at him, her hands were on her curvaceous hips in a don't-mess-with-me sort of way and she was very nearly growling.
It was insanely arousing, and if Madame Pomfrey hadn't been hovering around, trying not to laugh at the performance, he might have pulled her into his lap there and then.
Luckily for everyone's sensibilities, Madame Pomfrey chose that moment to swoop over and chase Sirius out of the Hospital Wing; he was supposed to be being harangued by Professor McGonagall, but he'd been worried about Remus.
Having a bench full of shrieking Ravenclaws dumped on top of him wasn't really his idea of a good time, so he ignored Sirius's farewell and concentrated on Jenny instead, which was much more enjoyable.
She'd been delivering a message to Professor Flitwick when Sirius had reached the outer limits of his concentration span and begun to wreak havoc, and had insisted on accompanying Remus, Frank and three of his other victims to the Hospital Wing. She was fussing over him now, and despite his throbbing head, Remus couldn't be happier.
"I don't think I'll be joining you tonight," he said, apologetically, as she made herself comfortable in the chair beside his bed.
"Don't worry about it – I wouldn't be surprised if he hasn't given you concussion or something."
"Still," he said. "It's your birthday party…"
"We'll do something later on," she insisted, smiling coquettishly. "I should thank Sirius for this."
"Why?"
"He's given me an excuse to have you all to myself."
"That sounds... fun," said Remus, in a low voice. "What did you have in mind?"
"You'll have to wait and see," she teased, and he raised an eyebrow.
They had been snogging in empty classrooms for several months now, and it was all starting to get more heated. They had decided, in the second most embarrassing conversation of his young life, to wait at least until they left Hogwarts – it was only six months away anyway, and neither of them wanted life to get particularly complicated in time for their N.E.W.T.s – but it was a decision that was becoming more difficult to stick to as time crept on.
Remus cleared his throat.
"Since I won't be at the party," he said, digging around in his schoolbag. "I should probably give you your present now, before Madame Pomfrey remembers to kick you out."
He held out a small box, wrapped in purple tissue paper.
Jenny grinned, but Remus frowned at her.
"What's that?" he asked, nodding at a small cut on her wrist.
"Oh, I got caught out in Herbology yesterday," she explained, rubbing at the mark absently.
"The Asiatic Water Plums?" Remus asked. "They weren't sharp."
They were, in fact, droopy, fat looking things with bright blue fruits that they had been pointedly forbidden to eat. They were highly prized for their medicinal qualities and quite difficult to get hold of; both Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey had promised them a slow and painful death if any of them were damaged or missing.
"I know," she said, waving away his concern. "Must have caught it on the secateurs or something. I didn't even notice until I got into the shower last night – it really stung."
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that last bit?" he asked. "I got a bit lost when you got to 'shower'."
Jenny hit him lightly on the arm and turned her attention back to her birthday present.
"You spoil me," she said, unwrapping it.
"Sorry…"
"I wasn't complaining."
He snorted, and beamed as she gasped in surprise.
"Oh, Remus, it's beautiful," she said, twisting the dainty thing around in the light. "Thank you!"
"Here," he said, and helped her fasten the delicate gold chain behind her neck; she took the opportunity to kiss him, lightly.
"Thank you," she said, again. "It's lovely."
"It reminded me of you," he said, not wanting to let her go.
"That's quite enough, you two," announced Madame Pomfrey good naturedly, as she bustled past. "You get back to your lessons now, Miss Baker."
They broke apart, blushing furiously; Jenny tucked the small white porcelain rose under her shirt and kissed him gently on the cheek when the Matron's back was turned.
"Feel better," she instructed him, and hurried off.
"Happy birthday!" he called after her.
0o0o0o0
"Alright," Remus said, sitting down on the bench beside her. "What have I done?"
It was late December and he hadn't seen very much of Jenny for the better part of a week; it was beginning to worry him.
"Nothing," she said, surprised. "Why?"
"Oh… I – er – I thought you were avoiding me," he said, embarrassed.
"No," she laughed, and he noticed that it wasn't nearly as bright as usual. "I've just not been feeling well, that's all."
"Do you need me to nurse you better?" he asked hopefully, pressing a hand against her forehead; it did seem a little warm.
"What, are you channelling Sirius or something?" she asked, amused. "I'll be ok, it's probably just some stomach bug that's going around."
"Ok, but promise me you'll go to Madame Pomfrey about it if it doesn't get better soon," he insisted.
"You're worse than Felicity," she said, shaking her head. "She's been trying to get me into the Hospital Wing for a week now."
"Maybe she's right," he pointed out, all helpful concern. "You don't normally get sick."
"I'll tell you what, if I'm not better by the end of the Christmas Break I'll go and talk to Madame Pomfrey, will that make you happy?"
Remus nodded.
"But if you do need looking after in the meantime," he offered, rubbing her arm.
Jenny leaned against him appreciatively, and he wrapped his arms around her.
"I'll know where to come."
0o0o0o0
Jenny woke up from an awful dream, sweating and gasping for breath.
She waited for her breathing to return to normal as the images dissipated: all long, sharp teeth and yellow eyes and high pitched cackling. She shivered and dragged herself out of bed, powerfully thirsty.
It was the last day of the Christmas holiday and she was alone in the dormitory, so she lit the lamps and padded across the cold stone floor to the bathroom. She filled a jug with icy water and gulped it down greedily, having to fill it a second time to slake her thirst.
She felt her forehead, which was hot and achy.
Maybe she really should see Madame Pomfrey.
She refilled the jug a final time and carried it back to her bedside before collapsing onto her bed.
She just didn't have any energy these days; she glanced at the clock: it was hideously early. She had woken like this every day for a week and a half, and it was beginning to get on her nerves.
Burying her face in the pillows she grimaced. She knew what was coming next.
The feeling of nausea grew until she couldn't stand it any longer and she staggered to the bathroom to be sick.
She groaned, piteously. Clutching the side of the sink, she caught her reflection in the mirror as a fresh wave of nausea hit her.
What is wrong with me? she thought, desperately.
0o0o0o0
"Well, Miss Baker, I think it's safe to say that you aren't well," said Madame Pomfrey, who had quickly gone from annoyed at being woken up so early to business-like in record speed.
Jenny grimaced and retched into the bucket she was holding, her world spinning.
"And you've no idea what could be causing it?" the Matron asked again.
If she'd been feeling better, Jenny would have glared at her; if she'd known what the problem was she would have sorted it out herself. As it was, she settled for shaking her head weakly.
"Hmmm…" said Madame Pomfrey, and took out an old fashioned nurse's watch. Gently, she picked up Jenny's shaking wrist and compared its beats with the ticking hands. "Your blood pressure's a bit high," she observed. "And you're very warm."
Unsteadily, Jenny set the bucket on the floor in front of her, fervently hoping that the worst was over.
"Let's see if you can lie down without being sick for a while, shall we?" Madame Pomfrey was already pushing her back against the bed; Jenny had the brief and not altogether welcome impression that she was being eaten by pillows.
She listened to her own heart as the Matron rummaged around in her Potion cupboards, the clinking of the vials jarring with its erratic beat.
"Now, let's get this down you," Madame Pomfrey had reappeared, an armful of bottles tucked into the front of her dressing-gown. "That's it…"
Jenny sagged in relief as her body calmed down; the Potion had tasted awful, like rotten spinach, but it had certainly done the trick.
"That should stop the nausea and the shivering," she said. "You need to get some sleep, young lady," she said, tucking the sheets in around her. "Sometimes that's the best thing for a fever."
Jenny tried to thank her, but found that she was just too tired, the potion too effective.
"Your welcome," Madame Pomfrey said softly.
She drifted away as the sunlight began to trickle through the windows of the Hospital Wing.
0o0o0o0
"But you're better now, though?" Remus demanded, wide-eyed at the thought of just how sick his girlfriend had been.
"Yes," said Jenny; he had pulled her into his lap as soon as she'd gone to sit down, unobserved in their little den at the back of the Library. "Well, mostly."
"Mostly?" he repeated, voice a little higher than normal. "How mostly?"
"I'm still feeling a bit sick in the mornings," she said. "But there's no more fever, and for that I am eternally grateful."
He gave her a dubious look.
"Really, Remus, I'm ok."
"You'd better be," he said, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
She snorted into his jumper and it made him relax a little; if Jenny was still laughing there couldn't be that much wrong with her.
Jenny snuggled against him, enjoying his warmth and the softness of his jumper.
It would probably be a good thing, she reflected, if I don't tell him about the dreams…