The first week passed too fast for Hermione's taste. Classes, somehow including divination, were getting increasingly interesting. Even if the workload was intense. She had been assigned to a follow up interview with the house-elves Suni and Kiki, who after a year's strike (which Hermione wished Saiyaka told her more about!) were now allowed to be present at festivals, and a bowl of Sake every month.
"It's not everything," Suni explained, their large brown eyes shining with passion. "But with negotiations and further efforts we hope to go further, we didn't expect to get this far in only a year. Anyone other than Yamato-sama would have responded differently."
Hermione recorded everything carefully, once again wishing she had more than a brush and ink. She smiled at Suni and Kiki, proud of their progress but sad that the elves back home would never even dream of such actions.
Outside of classes and the Mahoutokoro Mercury, Hermione worked in the Non-Human Welfare society, which she was impressed no was more than Saiyaka and Hiro, but almost the entire Mercury, and a petite fifth year boy named Arima Haku that blushed around Miyuki. Hermione and Saiyaka convinced Hiro to join the Junior Librarians and Hermione even forged her father's signature and rejoined the Girls' Kendo Club
Though what Hermione cherished most was her time with Hiro. They sat together in the Spring Grove beneath an enchanted sakura tree, the pink petals gently falling into Hiro's untidy black, his hazel eyes gleaming in the sunset. Hermione sat in his lap absently tracing the pink spider lilies and sakura blossoms on his robes while staring up at his beautiful olive face.
"Close your eyes, Mi-chan," Hiro instructed with that crooked grin she loved so well.
Hermione obeyed eagerly, straightening her spine trying to keep the pleasant shivers under control. They had so few moments alone, they'd barely gotten to kiss most during the week aside from stolen pecks when no one was watching. She wondered if he was going to kiss her like back in the bamboo forest. She was ready for serious kissing. She felt her cheeks burn as she thought about how nice it'd be to snog Hiro.
Excitement buzzed in her brain as she heard him move about, and she wondered how far she was willing to go. She didn't think she could do more than snogging, she hoped he didn't mind. Though it wasn't like they'd do that in the grove, would they?
No, of course not! But snogging…in public…with the rules as strict as they are, they'd land in detention!
"Wait, Hiro-kun," Hermione opened her eyes.
"No, peaking!" Hiro teased
Hermione obeyed. "M-my dad might murder m–"
Hermione was interrupted by something sweet and floral with a slight bitter and earthy taste to it, as well as chewy. She felt her face grow even hotter and she opened her eyes to see Hiro grinning while now holding an empty pair of chopsticks.
Somehow, Hermione hadn't noticed the bowl of sliced mochi Hiro had slid into her lap. She normally ate strawberry and green tea mochi, but the pink and red filled mochi she didn't recognize.
"Sakura isn't just pretty," Hiro smiled. "Pickled sakura is amazing in mochi and onigiri."
Hermione looked down at the bowl, she wasn't sure how many pieces were in there, nor how she was going to split it into thirds. If the two of them were eating it together, shouldn't it be halved? But that just–it felt wrong. How the hell did normal couples do this? She could attempt to count them and stick to a third, but if Hiro didn't eat the rest, there'd be a quarter left…that wasn't—it was–-she didn't know but she didn't like it.
What the hell is wrong with you, you stupid little girl! Hermione chided herself. This was the exact scenario she'd read about in novels and manga. Feeding each other under a sakura tree enchanted to blossom out of season? Hermione longed for a moment like this with Hiro and she was fucking it up!
"Mi-chan?" Hiro's grin disappeared and he touched her face. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, of course," she squeaked with a forced smile. This is a perfect moment and you won't ruin it for him! Or yourself! "I-it's–erm–really good, Hiro-k-kun."
Hiro wasn't buying it. He set the chopsticks down their container and took her hand. "I'd ask if you just didn't like it, but it seems more important that."
Hermione clasped her hands together, driving her fingernails into her flesh wondering if Hiro would still want her when he found out she was crazy.
And why should he? He's sweet, and kind and considerate, as well as smart and good looking, the boy is practically a saint, and you…you will never be good enough for him!
She wished she could stop the tears from pooling in her eyes, and she steadied tried to steady her breathing.
"Should I tell Yamato-sama Sensei that you've nicked food from the kitchens, Hiro-chan?"a bright bubbly voice sang.
Both looked up to see the beautiful and evil Inyuama Rie smirking, with her arms folded over her chest, and her black eyes glinting with pure hatred.
"Look around you, Rie," Hiro glared. "We're not the only ones."
Inyuama twirled a long strand of black hair over her shoulder. "But you are the only one engaging in an indecent display with a gaijin in your lap. With that gaijin in your lap."
"Fuck off, Rie," he sighed. "Come on, Mi-chan, we don't need this."
Hermione kept her head down and banished the bowl, chopsticks and container before rising. She wanted to tear into Inyuama, but she couldn't bear to raise her eyes when she was on the verge of crying. Hermione would never live it down.
Hiro stood as well, and Hermione felt him draped a protective arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. She wanted to vanish into him. You're so weak.
"I guess I do understand how you could choose her," she mused, giggling behind a perfect lock of hair. "Unlike us Japanese girls, western girls are fast. Yariman is good for nyan nyan suru!"
Hermione felt as though the grass were quicksand, and she wasn't sure Hiro's tightened grip could stop her from sinking. Normally, she'd say something. Anything to make her stop. But Hermione had already been on edge and now…Did Hiro only like her because western girls are fast? She was only thirteen, she wasn't ready for…but she did love him. Did he love her? Or was she a fun summer fling he could brag about to Toshio when she left?
No, Hiro's not like that!
"Hermione's my girlfriend!" Hiro spat. "I'm with her because she's nice, because she gives a damn about people and animals. She's smart and pretty and you're just jealous you'll never be half the witch Hermione is!"
Hermione glanced up at Hiro, his jaw clenched as he glared at Inyuama. She didn't think she'd ever seen him so angry. She blinked, feeling more tears appear in her eyes. "H-Hiro?" she squeaked.
"Oh," Inyuama giggled. "Are you crying, yariman?"
"Leave her alone," Hiro glared. "Unless you want me to tell everyone how I turned you down after Matou Shinji ditched your sorry arse."
This turned Inyuama's perfect pale skin pink. The smirk faded from her face as she lowered her hair, narrowing her eyes in hatred. "You-you-the only reason you've gotten as far as you did is because of your family name! You'd be nothing but a friendless pain in the arse who failed out a long time ago. You're not half the wizard your grandfather is! I bet your father would be ashamed if he were still here!"
Hiro was now the one to stare blankly and Hermione's shame gave way to rage. She stepped between Hiro and Inyuama, glaring up at the taller girl, extending herself to her full height, clasping her hands before her.
"Invoking Hiro's dead father?" Hermione forced a loud bitter laugh. "That's almost as low as your bloody IQ! Oh, I know you were too busy washing your face and hair to learn, but IQ is a measure of how smart you are."
"I know what IQ is, bitch," she yelled
"Oh!" Hermione cackled. "Sorry, it's just, remember last year when Kaname asked you how to reverse a Jelly Legs Jinx and you couldn't answer it? Isn't that covered in the first year?"
"I-I was off focus!" Inyuama cried.
"Still, I wonder how you got second place in our year if a little thing like that can throw you off," Hermione shrugged casually. "But I'm certain the Inyuama name had nothing to do with it. Oh, and I think you have something on your—" Hermione touched the side of her nose. "Oh, nevermind."
Hiro placed an arm around Hermione and urged her forward. She wondered if she'd been too harsh on Inuyama, who now picked at her face while others laughed around her. A thought quickly dismissed as Inuyama shouted:
"Kendo Club, you're as good as dead, you filthy gaijin yariman!"
Hermione hugged her knees to her chest sitting with Hiro on his futon. Mochi curled up in Hiro's lap, the tiny calico dosing without a care. Hermione's brain moved so fast, and she could barely keep herself from crying.
"Are you okay, Hermione?" asked Hiro, placing a gentle hand on her knee.
Hermione nodded with a squeak, venturing to look up. Hiro smiled gently, but Hermione had been so mean, how could he not judge her? Wasn't she being just like her father?
No, he wouldn't be so pathetic as to be crying about what Inuyama said after…Shit! I'm crying! Hermione wiped her eyes with her sleeves. "I'm so sorry, Hiro. I-I don't want to be a pr-problem."
Hiro clasped both of his hands around hers and leaned his forehead against hers. "You're not a problem, Mi-chan. If anything I'm the one that's not good enough. Maybe she was right about Papa, I'm not exactly top of my year."
"Hiro, no," Hermione ran a hand through his untidy black hair and stared into his hazel eyes, having lost their spark. "You're amazing. I've never met anyone like you, you're always so kind and-and–well, look, Inuyama said those things about your dad, and you're comforting me. I don't know anything about your dad, but I bet he'd be thrilled to see how you turned out. And I-I-I-" Hermione sighed, the tears refusing to go away. "One letter, you've changed my life with one letter. I still have it. All of them, really—and—and—and—" Hermione shook her head. "This–erm–this wasn't how I imagined confessing. Sobbing on your bed, it's pathetic. But you are amazing, Hiro, please don't forget that."
"Mi-chan," he whispered, taking her face in her hands. "It's not pathetic. It's–erm–" Hiro swallowed before lowering his face to hers, kissing her.
Hermione leaned into the kiss, letting the insults go. Hiro did want her, not some stupid idea of a "fast" western girl. She wished she had been more secure before, but with his arms moving around her, and his lips moving against hers, she was dead certain.
"Mi-chan," he whispered in a brief parting. "Aishiteru."
Hermione stared wide eyed at him for a moment. Not only was he saying that he loved her, but saying it that way...She might not have been a native speaker, but she knew that was profound. She'd fantasised forever about him saying that, but now, he did. Her voice caught in her throat, and her heart pounded before she could finally speak.
"I love you, Hiro-kun," Hermione whispered, captivated by the green and yellow nebula in Hiro's hazel eyes. She once more thought she could lose herself in them, before Hiro began kissing her again.
She leaned back and let herself melt into his arms, never once feeling so secure and so excited at the same time.
Suddenly the door to his dorm slid open and Toshio gaped at them, his brown eyes the size of tea saucers and his jaw nearly hit the floor while his olive skin turned beat red. "I–erm—I just wanted to grab my notebook. Are you two—"
"No!" they both cried, straightening themselves, now turning bright red as well.
"I-I-I sh-should leave," Hermione found her way to her feet. "Saiyaka's waiting."
"Don't be seen when you leave, Mione-chan," Toshio said, grabbing his notebook.
"I thought I was allowed up here!"
"You are," Hiro said, placing his hand on the small of her back. "Toshio-kun, what's going on?"
"Inuyama Rie," he nearly growled. "Telling anyone who'd listen that you're a yariman and being seen leaving Hiro's dorm is just going to add fuel to the fire."
Hermione shook her head and sighed. "What the hell is a 'yariman' anyway?"
"It doesn't matter," Toshio became redder. "Inuyama's just–"
"It means, what's the English word for it…?" Hiro pulled her closer to him. "'Slut'. But I know it's not—"
"What?" Hermione choked. "But that's not–I'm a—(her Japanese failed her as she scoured her mind for something similar to 'virgin') For Merlin's sake, I'm thirteen. Wh-who'd believe it?"
"I can't imagine anyone would," Hiro assured her. "Inuyama's had it out for you since you came here. Everyone knows she and her friends are just liars."
Hermione bit her lip and turned her head away. She knew the exact opposite to be true. Last year Inuyama broke her arm without any consequences. She'd spread rumours that Hermione was an abandoned post-box baby from Korea, they all made fun of her hair, her teeth, which she was used to, but then included her "wrong" skin colour. Perhaps losing Matou as a boyfriend decreased her power, but she knew if Inuyama Rie said it, her year would treat it as gospel.
"Let me walk you back," Hiro offered his arm.
Torn between not wanting to accept his protection and wanting to spend more time with Hiro, she accepted the offer. They talked about anything but that awful moment, and it was as if she were walking on air once more.
"I've got it!" Remus proclaimed, throwing his arms into the air.
"Merlin, Remus," Severus sighed. "What are you on about?"
"Wow," Remus leaned over the table with a smirk. "Aren't you the world's most supportive boyfriend?"
"Boyfriend?" Severus rolled his eyes and flicked his forehead. "Are we sixteen? Now, what do you owe this eureka moment to?"
"Well, do you remember when we were teenagers and had to do careers shadowing?"
"Indeed," he nodded, shuddering at the thought. "When I couldn't choose someone to intern with that summer, Dumbledore set me up with Mad-Eye-Bloody-Moody. You don't tend to forget those things."
"Well, I interned under my therapist, he was the only person I could feel safe with," Remus smirked. "If I can take a licensing exam I'd be certified. I'd be able to work only a few days out of the month, and keep myself away from everyone when it happens."
"So, you plan on staying for more than the summer then, eh?" Severus couldn't stop himself from grinning.
Remus leaned forward, and picked up a scone. "It's your fault. You've got me hooked on these bloody things."
Severus stifled a laugh and rolled his eyes. "At least someone eats more than a third of what I make these days."
"Glad to be of service," Remus brushed his foot against Severus's under the table.
"I'll be sure to leave some in my office tomorrow night. Unless it—is chocolate toxic when—?"
"I'm a werewolf, not a malamute, Severus," Remus groaned. "I don't ask you intimate questions about your time of month."
What the hell is he—the man has the intelligence of a malamute! "For Merlin's sake Remus!" Severus snapped. He didn't have the energy for yet another fight, and had been told multiple times if this was going to work he had to control his temper. But that question was completely out of line.
"First of all," he spoke between his teeth, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the wall. "I don't have a 'time of month' as you put it, to my knowledge I don't have a uterus. Secondly, your literal curse is different than my having been born in an intersex body. Thirdly, why the hell does everyone want to compare being a werewolf to mundane differences?"
Remus looked away, ashamed. He ran a hand through his greying hair and sighed. "You're right, that was insensitive. Sorry."
Severus didn't expect such a prompt apology, and it seemed…sincere. Though after months, he should have known. Remus was always quick to admit a wrong, and he was never insincere. That was why Severus felt…well, he still wasn't sure what he felt. Perhaps the strange hurricane of feelings was what he truly needed protection from.
"You're tactless," Severus shrugged.
"I just–" Remus sighed. "It's still hard to talk about my condition, even after all these years. I lashed out, sorry."
That's lashing out? If so I suppose I really do need to double check my temper… Severus himself sighed at this. He'd not really thought about the toll the wolf took on him. It was always his trauma, the danger posed to Hermione and the students…but Remus had to live with the wolf on the daily and Severus imagined it had to affect him profoundly.
"Other than the potion…" Severus ventured. "What can I do to make tomorrow night easier for you?"
"Erm–" Remus hesitated, biting his lip. "No, Severus. You're already doing so much and I–"
Why must the people I care about be so bloody difficult? "Remus," he said simply. "What. Do. You. Need?"
Remus fell silent and Severus wondered if he were wasting his time with the offer. That's not fair, he's—No, why the hell should I be my lover's caregiver? I already have one child he can—no, I want to do what I can for him. Fuck.
"I–erm—you don't have to, but with the potion I should be harmless and—-" Remus shook his head. "It's too much to ask."
"What is?"
Silence again, and it weighed on the two like rocks piled high, until Remus finally blurted out. "I don't want to be alone!"
The silence was Severus's fault this time. He stared into those pale green eyes worn from years of exhaustion but what he saw wasn't his lover, but the fierce yellow eyes of an enormous dark grey wolf baring his sharp fangs and leaping in Severus's direction to kill. He couldn't...he didn't know what he expected Remus to say, but not that.
I'll just tell him I can't…It's irresponsible for him to ask anyway!
"Please, Severus," he said quietly.
Once again, he wasn't sure what possessed him when he wrapped his arms around Remus and kissed his ear. "Okay."
What the hell have I agreed to?