She didn't know he was going to be here.
She shouldn't be surprised that Ginny and Harry had extended an invite. Of course they would – he's the only connection Harry still had to his parents, and he's a trusted advisor in many parts of Harry's life. She suspects even more so now, with Ginny being pregnant with their first child.
She's standing in a corner of the room, taking a moment away from the bustle of conversation when he seems to spot her. Taking a sip from her glass of firewhisky, she allows the burning in her throat to momentarily distract her as he walks over to her nook.
"How have you been?" His query is gentle as he comes to stand next to her, the tilt of his own glass serving as a casual greeting. He's dressed in muggle attire – a brown button-down shirt and similarly coloured pants – and there's more scars on his face than she can remember. One appears fresh, puckered and pink against his pale skin, traveling the distance from his left cheek down to the collar of his shift. She catches her gaze lingering a moment too long on the bob of his Adams apple and drags her eyes back up to his own. He looks at her with curiosity.
She counts the months since they had last spoken and is quite surprised to find that it extends into years – nearly four, so be exact. He appears healthier than he was before, no longer wasting away and skin grey with stress. Despite the time that has passed, his eyes remain the same – hazel orbs that glint with the mischief of his youth. Offhandedly, she notices he hasn't shaved in a few days, but the scruff almost makes him appear younger.
"Good, thank you," she answers, "It's been a long time."
She's struck with the familiarity of his presence. After the war, when she had been back at Hogwarts completing her studies, he had returned to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts as a favour to McGonagall. Although she wasn't taking his class, they often crossed paths in the halls, and shared a cup of tea on days when memories became too heavy. She'd grown to find comfort in his presence, in his ability to understand, in his way of holding silence. Sometimes, they would simply sit on the front steps of the castle, looking out at the courtyard that had once been littered with the bodies of those they cared for, and just breathe. Kindred souls carrying the weight of their own memories.
Does it ever get easier?She had asked one evening, as the cold from the sun's absence began to bite into her skin.Dealing with all the loss?
He had sighed, before looking up at the stars appearing in the sky.No,he had replied.But eventually, grief no longer reminds you of what you've lost, but it allows you to be grateful for all the goodness, and light, and happiness you were fortunate enough to experience.
When he had left at the end of the year, she hadn't expected that it would hurt as much as it did. She realized that she had been craving the time they would spend together, and how easy it was to forget everything outside of his voice, words, and warmth. Once, she had tried to write him, but she had quickly realized that the thought of him made her heart flutter inside her chest, and so she had set her parchment alight and never tried again. She dismissed it as some sort of transference, a method for coping with her grief, and assumed that it would fizzle once time had passed and her wounds had better healed.
They had reconnected four years ago, briefly, at Ginny and Harry's wedding. She had been surprised when he had sought her out, greeting her with a friendly hug that sent heat travelling throughout her body. Transference no longer suited the feeling that arose in her belly and heart – it was something much deeper, something she dared not name. He was attending the wedding alone, Tonks had been working, and he had avoided answering questions about how his auror wife was doing; it left the strangest air hanging between them. Curiously, his wedding band had been missing from his finger, but that went unmentioned.
Nestled in a corner of the dancefloor, alcohol slowly worked to loosen their tongues, and send her eyes wandering. He told her of his plans to move to London, his frustration with the lycanthropy laws, his love of her perspective in their conversations. She had tried hard not to stare as the night progressed and his shirt progressively became more unbuttoned, the heat from all the bodies in the tent leaving them sweltering. She had battled to avoid staring too long into his eyes, and made every attempt to avoid touching him, yet the liquor in her veins emboldened her to find every excuse to brush her arm against his. Through the haze of her memory, she recalls leaning in close and telling him that she found his companyevery so stimulating,and his voice hot in her ear, telling her it wasmutual stimulationand how beautiful she looked in her dress.
After she had gotten home, she had climaxed in the darkness, remembering the burning of his presence, and imagining that her fingers were his.
The guilt did eat her alive, for a time. He used to be herprofessorfor Merlin's sake. He wasmarriedwith achild– she felt as though she had committed a terrible crime. The feeling had dulled as time had passed, and now, with him standing in front of her once again, the rapid beating of her heart tells that nothing had changed. Reignited, the guilt gently gnaws at her for wanting him in ways she shouldn't, still, after all this time. Wanting in ways that aren't possible, ways that still echo in her dreams and leave her pent up with a need she dared never touch again.
He's eyeing her inquisitively, and she wonders if her remembers that night at the wedding as well. She wonders if he still sees her as a student. "It has been a long time. Are you still at the Ministry?"
"I just put in my notice, actually. I'm going to be teaching muggle studies at Hogwarts, but I'll be continuing with my research, albeit part time." She sighs. "I loved the work, but I'll admit I've grown tired of battling the ineptitude. The lack of knowledge grown wizarding folk possess of the muggle world is absolutely astounding. I've decided to re-structure the curriculum at Hogwarts – take more of an upstream approach."
"I suppose I should call you Professor Granger from now on," he grins. "How the tables have turned."
She laughs. "Oh, please don't. Ron and Harry already say I'm practically ancient for taking the job."
"Ancient at 28? Now I feel rather like a corpse." He shares in the laughter. "How exciting, though. I'm certain you'll do an excellent job. Hogwarts is very lucky to have you."
She feels herself flush at the compliment. "Thank you – I'm quite terrified, but I think it will be a good change." She takes a sip of her drink, relishing in the fire that trails down into her stomach, allowing it to give her the courage required to not run to the other end of the room. He mirrors her, peering around at the milling guests. She's quite impressed at the turnout, and Harry and Ginny have done an excellent job at making the sitting room of Grimmauld Place feel warm and inviting.
"How have you been?" She asks carefully. "How are Tonks and Teddy? Is she here – I haven't seen her?"
His shoulders tense just slightly, but he seems to notice and quickly adjusts to relax his stance. "Harry must not have mentioned. Dora and I divorced three years ago. Mutually," he adds, at her widening eyes. "Just different…er…needs…"
A heavy silence lingers for just a moment, but she feels it deep inside of her bones. As she glances to his left hand, she indeed sees that his wedding band has gone, just as it was that night four years ago. She wonders what it meant then. He continues, "we share custody of Teddy. He's just turned 11."
"Oh," she isn't quite sure how to respond, and he eyes her intently. Her heart clenches just slightly, in a way she knows it shouldn't, and for a moment she's brought back to the wedding, to the weight of his drunken gaze, to the heat blazing inside her that she desperately tried to ignore.
"It's okay," he shrugs, "I'm quite happy, so is Dora. She's dating a lovely witch named Leah, whom Teddy adores. We have family dinners every few weeks all together. It's all worked out quite well, considering."
"I'm glad to hear." She is, for more reasons than one. She focuses instead on her desire to strangle Harry for not relaying this significant piece of information. "11 already? He'll be starting at Hogwarts this year, then?"
"Yes – he won't shut up about it, actually. His hair has been an atrocious shade of Gryffindor red for the past several months. Dora's set on him being a Hufflepuff, though." He leans up against the wall, smiling softly. "She has him tonight, otherwise he would have loved to come and see everyone."
"Well, I'm excited I'll get to teach him come September," at his curious glace, she elaborates. "Muggle studies is a requirement for all years now, partially due to the Muggle protection laws they finally updated last year, but also due to my insistence when I took the job."
"Ah, yes. A good change, I'm glad to hear it. You're in for quite a busy time once September arrives, then, imparting the youth with your wisdom."
"Mmhmm," he catches her just as she's taking a sip of her drink. The low, gravelly cadence of his voice shocks her, and she shallows a rather large gulp accidentally. Her eyes water. "Oh, this is quite strong," she coughs.
"I believe this is the firewhisky I sent it to Harry and Ginny as a housewarming gift," he says, after checking she was all right. "It's from Romania. They make it on the dragon reserve there…I'm not quite sure what they do to it, but it's much better than the stuff they have in Britan."
"Certainly better, although it's been a while since I've had any other firewhisky." The last time was at Ginny and Harry's wedding, actually.
"We'll have to do a comparison sometime, then." There's something different in his voice when he speaks, and she stares up at him curiously.
A large ruckus of laughter from the other end of the room interrupts her just as she opens her mouth. Ron and George are showing off some of their new Wheezes' products, a crowd gathering around them, with excited shouts filling the space as sparkles fly into the air and transform into dancing shapes. Barely occupied before, her and Remus' corner is now empty, save a small table with refreshments.
She turns to face him, stepping a little bit closer so he can hear her over the loud cheers and conversations. As she takes a breath, she can smell the subtlest hint of his cologne. It's the same one he wore to the wedding – smoky, woody, with the faintest hint of chocolate.
"What have you been up to? If I recall correctly, you had just moved to London when we'd last spoke?"
He runs his fingers through his hair, and his eyes glint in the light from the candles floating above their heads. She's struck with the depth of his gaze, and the slight flush crawling across his cheeks.
"Ah…yes it has been quite a while since we've caught up. I did move to London, and promptly left. Too difficult during the full moons, even with the wolfsbane. I had to rent a warehouse because I didn't want to be near Dora and Teddy. Merlin, the rent there is atrocious. We moved closer to the coast, which is where Dora still lives."
He pauses, swirling his drink in his hand. "I did some curse breaking with Gringotts for a few years, which is why Teddy and Victoire are so close. Fleur, and Bill, were a great help when Dora and I were both away for work. I've just shifted into more of a consultant role, actually, which I'm happy about because the travelling was just becoming a nuisance. Actually…I just moved to Scotland. To be closer a bit closer to Teddy when he's in school, since Dora is down near Cardiff."
"Oh, that's lovely. Are you enjoying it so far?"
"Yes – I have a small cottage, but it backs onto a forest, and it's far enough from the nearest town that I have peace and quiet. Harry set me up on the Floo earlier this week, though, so I'll probably be stopping by more frequently now. Especially now that they're expecting – he keeps sending owl after owl with requests for parenting advice. I haven't the heart to tell him still have no bloody clue what I'm doing." He shakes his head. "Anyways, I expect you'll be residing at Hogwarts during the school year from now on?"
"I think so. I have a flat in London, which was wonderfully close to the Ministry, but I'll need to find somewhere else to stay during the holidays. It doesn't suit me anymore, being in the city."
"You live alone?" He asks, his eyes darting over to where Ron is wildly gesturing.
She laughs. "Yes, I do. And before you ask," she adds, "Ron and I haven't been together for years. We're just good friends. Nothing like dating a person to make you realize your relationship is rather too familial in nature."
He chuckles. "Ah, yes, that would probably put a damper on things." He pauses, taking a sip of his drink. "Are you seeing anyone?"
Well, that was quite out of nowhere. The words sound strange coming from his lips, and although she knows he doesn't mean itin that way,she notices her palms have begun to itch.
"No, not at the moment." She says, casually. "I'm far too busy, and I expect I will continue to be for quite some time."
"Understandable."
"You?" She hears herself asking. She's impressed with her own boldness.
He chuckles. "I too find myself far too busy to entertain anything aside from work and Teddy. I don't mind – I rather enjoy being on my own."
She's frustrated at her disappointment with his words – she's in no place to bedisappointedthat he isn't looking to begin dating. It's none of her business.
"However, in saying that, should you find yourself in need of a bed, I'm just an owl away. Sometimes the isolation can be rather lonely." The tone of his offer is entirely innocent, but she cannot help the vivid picture of something far more scandalous from blooming in her imagination.
Curiously, she tilts her head to look up at him, discernment colouring her expression. "Yoursmallcottage has a spare bedroom?"
He raises his eyebrows, a glint in his eye. "Oh, most certainly," he says, as he raises his glass up to his lips.
She isn't quite sure how to take that.
After a sip, he examines his drink with furrowed brows. "I'm about due for a refill. Would you like a top up?"
She looks down at her glass and realizes it's near empty. It doesn't take much internal debate for her to accept his offer.
He gently takes her glass from her hand, and their fingers brush. His touch is warm, not feverish, but it makes her feel as though her skin is aflame. Heat rises in her cheeks as he smiles down at her softly, the creases in the corner of his eyes growing more apparent. "More firewhisky?"
"Yes please, the Romanian kind, if it's still available."
"Of course, Professor." He replies, before leaving for the kitchen. He doesn't see her roll her eyes, but she's sure he can feel it.
She's not alone for very long, because Harry soon walks over, looking sympathetic. "'Mione, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were standing here all alone."
"Oh, I haven't been – Remus is just refilling our drinks." She lowers her voice to a hiss. "Did you perhaps forget to mention something?"
He looks slightly terrified. "Uh…no?"
"Harry, he and Tonks got divorced?" She groans. "Ring any bells? I just asked him where Tonks was, and he had to tell me they'd split."
His eyes widen and then his face settles in an expression of confusion. "Oh, yeah, they did. Ages ago. I think they separated like right before me and Gin got married. Sorry, I didn't think it was that important. Anyways, why do you care?"
"I don't!" She says indignantly, ignoring the way her brain taunts her for the lie. "But I hate to think I made him uncomfortable by asking."
"He's the happiest I've seen him in years, so I think you're fine. Anyways, thank you for the children's books. Ginny almost cried when she saw them. I think she'll be coming over to chat soon, she just got caught up with Luna. Apparently, there's these invisible fairies that surround pregnant women and they start dying when they go into labour? I don't know…" he shakes his head. "Maybe I'll ask Lupin. He might know."
She feels a doubtful look coming over her face and tries desperately to school it. She fails, because Harry glances at her expression and sighs.
"I know, I know…I'm just so freaked out about everything and anything. Ginny's nearly hexed me every day this week, she says I'm micromanaging too much."
"You? Micromanaging? I didn't know that was possible."
"I'm more terrified for this than I ever was facing Voldemort." Harry says, only partly joking.
"You're going to be a great dad, Harry," she says seriously. "I have absolutely no doubts about it."
"Thanks," he breaths, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Oh, hey, Lupin. Thanks for coming, and thanks for the stuffed lion toy. We've already put it in the nursery."
Remus steps past Harry to stand next to her, and she notices that he's much closer than before – her heartbeat thrums a little stronger in her chest. He hands her a full glass of firewhisky, and she can't help but wonder if his fingers linger on hers for a moment longer than necessary. She doesn't mind the slightest if they do.
Oh goodness,she thinks, realizing she can practically brush her shoulders against his chest. She takes a large sip of the alcohol to distract herself, and focuses on looking at Harry, who is oblivious.
"Of course, Harry. Congratulations again to you and Ginny. It's incredibly exciting. I would cheers to you, but you don't have a drink." She can feel his words vibrating in her chest.
"Oh bollocks. I was going to get Ginny a butterbeer. I'll be back. Actually, I have a question about pregnancy fairies I wanted to ask…stay here, I'll come back in a bit." Harry dashes off into the crowd at the other end of the room which has begun to disperse around the room, and Remus gives her an inquisitive look.
"Something Luna said to Ginny. It's complete hogwash." She scoffs. "Thank you," she adds, tilting her glass towards him.
"Anytime." His tone is sincere. "You mentioned you would be continuing with your research while teaching. Are you still focusing on the long-term impacts of the imperius curse?"
She's quite impressed he remembered her research, when she had only mentioned it in passing during a conversation numerous years ago. Although, she supposes she shouldn't be surprised, as he's always had a good memory for these things.
"After I published my findings last year, I took a step back, although I still try and stay up to date. I've spoken at a few conferences, but nothing too recently. Now I'm looking into…" she pauses, looking up at him. He's watching her with rapt attention. "Well, I'm looking into how to enhance the wolfsbane potion. I'm curious as to whether it will synergistically react when brewed with a compound of arrowroot and balsam, which could perhaps allow it to prevent transformation during the full moon, but it's early days."
He looks quite surprised, and she's certain her cheeks are flushed.
"I just remember you explaining to me how wolfsbane makes your mind present during transformation, which made you less dangerous, but you would find it incredibly disconcerting…I wanted to see if I could make it better. I mean, it's been about 100 years since it was last updated, and there's bound to be room for improvement."
His mouth hangs open just slightly. "I'm sorry I didn't think to tell you sooner," she hastily adds. "It's just something I plan to work on in my spare time, and I don't have any funding, so it will be slow going."
"Hermione," he says quietly, "if anyone out there could accomplish such a feat, it would be you."
She feels herself beam.
"Let me know if I can be of any help. If you wish, of course." His offer is sincere, and almost mindlessly, his fingers come up to brush against the scars on his face. "I'm no scientist, but I do have a little bit of experience in the realm of lycanthropy." He gives her a lopsided grin.
"I would love to get your insights, once I have something more concrete to go off on."
"My door is always open."
"So is mine," the words escape her in a rushed stream, more breathless than she had intended. "My office door, I mean. If you ever want to…chat about things or have a cup of tea."
He looks as though he's going to say something, but he's interrupted by Ginny, who is standing on a chair at the other end of the room.
"All right, you lot, come closer so I don't need to yell so loud. We have an announcement."
He glances at her curiously, and as they walk over to where Ginny is standing, she feels a pull back to their quite corner. She can feel the ghost of his hand by the middle of her back, and she wonders what it would feel like if he touched her. He did once, at the wedding – his hand drifting down to the small of her back and lingering while he whispered into her ear.
Merlin.
Ginny spots her immediately and beckons her over. "Hermione, I need you for the charm, hurry up." She hisses.
Giving Remus an apologetic look, she moves to stand next to Ginny and Harry near the fireplace, pulling her wand out of the pocket of her sweater. After Ginny explains the reason for the celebration, the signal is given, and Hermione begins to mutter the complicated incantation. After a moment of silence, a loud bang fills the room, and thousands of pieces of sparkling blue confetti erupt from the ceiling, falling onto the crowd of people, covering all of the surfaces in shades of cornflower, navy, cobalt, and cerulean. Cheers burst from the attendees, and Harry and Ginny embrace each other.
After the many congratulations, and more celebrations, the festivities begin to die down. Her lips are tingling from the firewhisky when he finds her again, and she notices with disappointment that he's got his jacket on.
"Leaving?" She asks, knowing the answer.
"Unfortunately. It was lovely to see you…" he trails off, reaching up and pulling a piece of sky-blue paper out of her curls. "That was marvelous work, by the way. I've never seen that spell cast successfully before."
"Thank you – I'll admit it took a lot of practice. Ron did try, and his skin was a sickly green for nearly a week."
He chuckles.
"Will I be seeing you? Around?" She tucks her hair behind her ears so she has something to do with her hands.
"I expect so," he smiles, "perhaps soon, hopefully."
"Oh good." She says, "safe travels, then."
He gives her a small wave goodbye before taking his leave and deftly navigating through the crowd. She lets out a deep breath, trying to calm herself, before moving back into the crowd of people.
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