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"Oh, do come in Hermione, it's absolutely frigid out there."
Mrs. Weasley greets her with a hug, squeezing her tightly before slamming to door behind her. "Never had so much snow, I tell you. Absolutely ridiculous."
Brushing off her hat and coat, she hangs them on the very full hooks next to the door. Mrs. Weasley motions her into the house, which is warm and inviting, with music playing from the floating radio. The smell of Mrs. Weasley's cooking fills the space and her stomach rumbles.
"I'm so sorry I'm late," she says, following Mrs. Weasley into the dining area. "I got caught up in my marking."
"You work too much, dear." Tuts Mrs. Weasley affectionately. "Take a seat and help yourself – I put you down by Ron, Ginny, and Harry. Yes, there, in front of the roasted parsnips."
The room greets her when she enters, a sea of red hair shouting hellos through stuffed mouths. She waves as she sneaks behind the chairs to her seat, which is indeed in front of the parsnips. Ron is next to her, and Harry and Ginny are across the table. There's an empty seat to her left, but she pays it no mind.
She's soon wrapped up in conversation with them all, catching up with the workings of the joke shop and the DMLE. Ginny's hands rest on her swollen belly, and she practically glows with happiness. Ron, cheeks on fire, tells them in a whispered voice that he's planning on proposing to Luna, and asks their advice on best to do it. Harry enthralls her with the details of his current case. She tells them about the happenings at Hogwarts, and the rumors about McGonagall's dating life.
She's greatly missed this. Although the walls of Hogwarts are incredibly comforting, she misses her family greatly.
The conversation turns to Quidditch, and she busies herself with pouring a glass of mulled wine. Just as she raises the glass to her lips, there is a commotion by the doorway, and Remus enters.
"My apologies, Molly, I was dropping off Teddy and absolutely lost track of time."
Mrs. Weasley, relaxed from the mulled wine, simply dismisses him with a wave of her hand. "Not to worry, Remus. Sit down, have some wine, have some food. You're down that end, next to Hermione."
His eyes quickly dart over to her, and he runs his fingers through his hair. "Wonderful," he says, looking her straight in the eye. His cheeks are flushed pink from the cold air.
She chokes on her wine.
He moves gracefully towards her, greeting everyone in his path, before settling heavily into his seat and taking a deep breath.
"What would you recommend?" He asks.
"Potatoes, gravy, turkey, Yorkshire pudding." Ron replies.
"Lovely!" Remus says cheerfully, beginning to load his plate.
She sees him eyeing her glass and so she reaches for his own. "Mulled wine?" she offers.
"Yes, definitely." He smiles at her, and she feels an unmistakable tug in her chest. Their fingers brush as she passes him his now full glass, but instead of drawing back, she summons enough courage to let them linger. He appears to notice, and a quiet smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
They haven't seen each other since Harry and Ginny's party all those months ago, but it's as if no time has passed. He looks incredibly handsome in his dark green sweater, and she's suddenly very glad she took an extra moment to decide what to wear this evening. Although the V-neck maroon sweater is far from scandalous, she knows it exposes more of her neck and shoulders than her typical attire, and she feels a little depraved for wanting him to notice.
After a brief catch up with Ginny, Harry, and Ron, Quidditch once again dominates the conversation, and she tries not to notice on how his arm nudges against hers whenever he reaches for his glass. She takes larger sips of her wine than what one would deem reasonable and focuses on listening to what Ron is saying about the Chudley Cannons' new choice in seeker.
"I could fly faster than that git, and I'm eight months pregnant." Ginny scoffs.
"Yes, but you don't understand, they're playing the long game by choosing a seeker with…"
"So, tell me, how has teaching been going?" Remus' soft voice cuts through Ron's yammering like a knife through butter. Immediately, her attention shifts to him, and her face softens into a gentle smile.
"It's been excellent, thank you. I think the students are enjoying the classes, actually."
"Glad to hear."
"Teddy is wonderful," she says. "He's such a pleasure to have in my class. He always asks the most thoughtful questions and puts a lot of work into his assignments."
A great smile spreads across his face. "Good. He writes to me frequently to tell me about how much he loves your class – he says you're a very fun teacher."
She laughs. "I wasn't ever expecting to be afunteacher, but I'm flattered. He's not with you tonight?"
"No, I had him for Christmas last year, so I shall be spending tomorrow morning enjoying a book in front of the fire, eating the leftovers that Molly has already promised me. The full moon is in a few days as well…actually, that reminds me."
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flask. With a grimace, he unstoppers it, and chugs the entire thing. Once he swallows the last drop, he shoves the flask back in his pocket, and downs his glass of mulled wine.
"Merlin that is disgusting. Much better with the wine." He refills his glass, and then her own. She thanks him with a tilt of her glass.
"I've made a little bit of progress with the wolfsbane." She tells him. "Not as much as I would have hoped, but I think I'm onto something with the arrowroot and balsam compound. Come springtime, I'm hoping to have more results documented."
"How exciting. I eagerly await your findings. Perhaps you could try and make it taste better, while you're at it."
"I'll add it to my list. Any preferences?"
"Chocolate – did you really have to ask?" They share a laugh.
"So, do you think you'll continue teaching, now that you've had a taste?" He asks, changing the subject.
"I think so. I enjoy feeling like I'm actually making a difference for the future, you know? And I've been quite impressed with everyone's assignments so far, actually. Although I'm not enjoying the hours upon hours of marking – I now feel bad for all those times I asked for extra feedback."
He chuckles. "I certainly don't miss those days of marking well into the holidays." She remembers that sometimes he would mark while they shared a cup of tea. He would read out the more amusing lines to her for entertainment. He thinks for a moment. "Some papers were much better than others, though. I had one student write a suspiciously detailed assignment on lycanthropy, and how one might hide their werewolf status in an educational setting. Even asked me for feedback on whether I thought her proposals held merit."
"Sounds like an exceptionally clever and observant student, if you ask me." She says teasingly.
"I don't know, perhaps she just got lucky." He jokes.
Brazenly, she takes one of her leftover carrots off her plate and throws it at him. He dodges it effortlessly and laughs.
"My apologies – I must give more credit to the brightest witch of her age."
She groans. "Oh, don't call me that. I hate it. The seventh years have started to call me that behind my back – it drives me insane."
He chuckles good-naturedly. "Perhaps they're trying to get in your good books?"
"Yes, well, they're all irredeemable after most of them wrote theirMuggle Item of Importancepapers onsex toys." She hisses the last words under hear breath, and he lets out a loud bark of laughter.
"Merlin – were they any good?"
"Actually, some were. One student actually took the time to detail how misogyny has negatively influenced the understanding of female pleasure, and how vibrators can serve as a tool for female empowerment."
Remus' eyes widen with surprise. "How insightful." His tone is serious.
"Yes, I was quite impressed actually. The wizarding world still seems to be lagging behind in that regard – such a lack of comprehensive sexual health education. Female pleasure is practically ignored in the current curriculum. Can you believe that they still teach witches that it's normal for it tohurtthe first time they have penetrative vaginal intercourse? It's absolutely ridiculous."
"What the bloody hell are you guys talking about?" Ron asks incredulously, leaning forward to eye them both with mild concern.
"Female pleasure." She answers drily. Ron's freckles disappear into his reddening cheeks.
"Uh…right…" He turns back to Harry and immediately jumps back into talking about Quidditch.
She rolls her eyes.
"It's not supposed tohurt." She says after taking a large sip of wine. "Not if your partner actually knows what he's doing."
"I've understood that many wizards seem to underestimate the importance of foreplay," Remus says thoughtfully.
"Yes, which is so unfortunate, as that's often the most exciting part." She sighs.
What in Merlin's name is she doing?
"Oh really?" His voice lowers just slightly, a touch of something darker threading through his words. He learns closer to her, and she's enveloped by the scent of him. Merlin, it's addicting. The intimate shift in the air does not escape her, and she feels her heart begin to beat more frantically in her chest. She can still hear Ron and Ginny are still arguing loudly about the Cannons, and the rest of the table is busy in conversation, but the way he's looking at her is making it very difficult to pay attention to anything other than him. His pupils are dilated more so than what one would deem normal, and she knows it's because the full moon is close. His eyes glint in a way she's never seen before.
"Tell me," he says lowly, "How so?"
She swallows thickly, and heat begins to spread across her body, settling low in her belly. His gaze never wavers from hers, and it feels as though the world around them ceases to exist. "Well, I mean, the chase of it all. The innocent touches and looks that…that start to linger…"
"Hmm…" It's barely a sound, but she hears it escape him, and it's so erotic she has to remind herself to breathe. "The anticipation is quitestimulating, is it not?"
She's struck with the feeling that he does remember the wedding, and what she said. A small part of her wants to crumple inside of herself, but the mulled wine has given her courage, andhe's not married anymore.
"Yes," she breaths. "I'd say so. It makes for a much sweeter release."
She lets her words hang in the air between them, and she watches as his mouth gently gapes open. There's no mistaking the absolutehungerin his gaze as his eyes bore into hers, before drifting down to linger on her lips. They slowly trace a path down to her throat, then to the neckline of her sweater. Heat erupts across her skin, and she feels as though she's suffocating in such an intoxicating way.
"It can be dangerous, though," he says, his voice low. "The anticipation. To start allowing such…intimate touches and looks. It could be hard to come back from that. Indeed, even separating lust from desire is a task many fail."
"That's true, but I hardly think differentiating lust from desire is the issue. They are synonyms, Remus."
His lip quirks. "Ah, you have me there. Then what about lust versus love? Don't you think that must factor into the equation?"
She pauses, allowing herself to take a deep breath. Mustering her courage, she places her hand on the corner of his seat and leans in a little bit closer. "Well, if you're talking purely about sex," she murmurs, keeping her voice steady, "love isn't strictly necessary. Lust can lead to…wonderfully pleasurable outcomes. And the danger of giving in to the moment, of letting itconsumeyou, that makes it even more exciting."
There's a long pause as their eyes meet, and the weight of her words leaves the air feeling heavy and charged. Her teeth catch on her bottom lip and his jaw clenches at the movement. "Fuck." He says, barely audible, his breath ghosting over her.
She's never heard him swear before, and within an instant, there's a new ache between her thighs – one she hasn't felt in a long, long time. She shifts in her seat just slightly, trying to find some relief, to no avail. The fingers of Remus' right hand are gripping his knee, and her mind flashes an imagine of him grabbing at her curves so tightly it leaves bruises that mark her skin as his. The thought has her squeezing her legs together in a desperate attempt to quell the throbbing of her core.
"Hermione…" he begins.
"Dessert, anyone?" Mrs. Weasley's voice breaks through the reverie and it's as though a bucket of ice water has been thrown onto her. She straightens quickly, putting distance between her and Remus, who practically jumps out of his seat. His face is ablaze, but he manages to save his strange reaction by reaching for one of the trays of food.
"Here, Molly, I'll help with the dishes," he says in a rush.
Others follow suit, and as she stands to grab the platter of leftover parsnips, she notices that Ginny is eyeing her with a raised eyebrow.
"What?" She says, lamely.
"Nothing." Ginny says slowly. "Curious, is all."
They end up seated at opposite ends of the table while dessert is served, him in conversation with Arthur and Bill, and her with Percy. She's almost fortunate for the break, because his presence was beginning to drive her absolutely insane. After everyone is stuffed full of Victoria sponge, cream puffs, and treacle tart, some part ways, and others make their way into the sitting room.
She charms the dishes to clean themselves before making her way over to where everyone has gathered. There aren't too many people left – Ginny and Harry are sat with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron is playing Gobstones with George, and Neville is watching them, yawning occasionally. As she moves over to the comfy sittee, she sees that Remus has already settled there. When he sees her coming over, he reaches to a nearby table and grabs two full glasses of wine.
"I got you a refill – it's not mulled, it's a Malbec."
"Oh, my favourite." She says, settling next to him. She's much closer than she needs to be, considering they have the entirety of the sittee to themselves. In fact, she's so close that if he were to ever so slightly widen his legs, their thighs would be pressed against each other.
"I remember," he says softly.
Taking a sip, she relishes in the taste. "I don't know if I should be flattered or concerned that you remember my wine choices." She teases.
"Well, I initially brought it thinking I could bribe you into letting Teddy pass, but now I understand that won't be necessary." Subtlety, he shifts his legs, and bumps his knee against hers.
"I suspect he'll be head boy if he keeps it up," she says.
He chuckles, before looking down into his lap and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Also, I'm, er…sorry about earlier this evening."
Her heart jumps into her throat. "Oh?" she says.
"I suspect the wolfsbane may have interacted with the alcohol slightly…and with the full moon approaching…it made me say some things I shouldn't have, and I apologise if I made you uncomfortable. It won't happen again."
Her stomach clenches tightly at his words, and she quickly looks ahead and fights the feeling of embarrassment that had begun to swirl inside of her.Of course.She thinks. The room is suddenly becoming a little bit too loud, and there's a heat spreading across her entire body that is entirely different from the one earlier. She wants to tell himactually, I was incredibly comfortable with all the things you said.But it's clearly not something he would have done had he been of sound mind.
She feels a little bit guilty, as though she's taken advantage of him.
She clears her throat. "Don't worry at all…I understand. I'm sorry if I madeyouuncomfortable…we can just forget it happened." She musters what feels like a weak smile.
He looks at her then, a look of panic on his face. "No, you did at all – I very much enjoy talking with you, being here with you. It's not the kind of thing Iwantto forget…" he trails off suddenly and shakes his head. "Merlin. I think I should probably take my leave. I'm so sorry, Hermione."
He stands so suddenly she's nearly knocked off balance. In a blur, he's thanking Molly and Arthur for their hospitality, gathering some leftovers, and leaving. The sittee suddenly feels incredibly empty and cold.
She downs the rest of her wine and sits there for a moment, trying not to think about what just happened, but also struggling to think of anything but that.
Ginny joins her after a few minutes as she's waving her wand and conjuring a glass of water, which she drinks earnestly.
"You good?" Ginny asks.
"Quite alright." She says. "Just…had a little bit too much wine."
Ginny sinks back into the cushions and grumbles, "I miss wine."
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