A/N: This story combines many firsts for me. It is my first fanfiction, my first longer piece I've ever written, my first lemon, my first publication, and my first story in English, which is not my native language. I will not ask you to not go too hard on me, as I hope that criticism will help me improve in the future. Until then, I hope you'll enjoy this little story of mine. I own nothing.

April had just begun and the OWLs loomed ominously over their heads, even though Hermione seemed the only one remotely concerned by that. 'Remotely concerned' in this case meant, of course, freaked out of her pants. Following Dumbledore's almost-arrest and subsequent escape, combined with Harry viewing Snape's memory in his Pensieve, all within the course of a few days, Harry had spontaneously decided to spend the Easter holidays at Grimmauld Place and Hermione chose to accompany him, rather than stay at Hogwarts as they had originally planned to.

Harry was spending as much time with Sirius as possible, questioning him about his parents and their schoolyears. Molly had wanted neither Ron nor Ginny to leave Hogwarts as she wanted them to travel as little as possible without immediate protection from the Order. Had she had any real authority over Harry, she would have forbid him to come to London as well; as it was, Harry had tried to appease her by saying that Hermione would be with him at all times, which failed of course, but had not kept him from visiting Sirius anyway.

Hermione herself had found that she had read through most of the relevant books and secondary literature in the Hogwarts library and saw the opportunity to study the Black library in more detail than before, to prepare for the exams. Her parents took no issue with her staying at the Order's headquarters, and she looked forward to three weeks of studying and researching to her heart's content.

Her heart, however, did not seem to be content with just studying. She could not pinpoint the feeling exactly, but in the last couple of weeks a weird sensation had settled itself into her body. It was barely perceptible most of the time, a soft humming at the back of her mind, and often she forgot it was there at all. It never went away, though, and even though it wasn't uncomfortable as such, it gave her the instinctive feeling of something being amiss.

Hermione had been able to dismiss it for quite some time, as she kept very busy at Hogwarts – juggling DA meetings, extensive homework, study sessions for the OWLs, trying to keep out of the way of both Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squat, and helping Harry with relationship advice, his Occlumency lessons, and the occasional detention. But here, at Grimmauld Place, she was largely left to her own devices, and nothing kept this nagging feeling at the back of her mind from humming louder and louder every day.

It was especially disconcerting during conversations. She took her meals with Harry and Sirius, and more often than not Remus would join them, as he had all but moved into Grimmauld Place to keep Sirius company. Whenever it was the four of them together, the humming would swell, not in volume but rather in intensity, and she would feel her blood vibrate in her veins, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She knew that Remus noticed right away that something was amiss, feeling his soft green eyes on her, looking for the cause of her distraction. And a distraction it was, sometimes to such a point that even Harry, who was usually fully absorbed in Sirius stories, would gently nudge her ribs with his elbow and ask her if she was alright.

And she was alright, truly. She wasn't bothered by the feeling as such, simply by the fact that the origin and nature of it escaped her knowledge, as she was bothered by every riddle she could not instantly solve.

And so it happened that one night in the middle of the holidays, after an extended dinner with the three boys, she found herself in the library to study some more. It had been one of those dinners when her feeling, as she little creatively called it, had risen to an intensity that turned her ears red with the vibration and made her toes curl in both pleasure at the humming sensation and frustration at something missing. What it was that was supposedly missing, she had no idea.

Entering her favourite room of the Black mansion, she closed her eyes for a second to breathe in the ever present and oh so beloved scent of supple leather and old parchment. She pushed the door shut and with a soft click the lock fell into place. When she turned back into the room, she started as she discovered that she was not alone.

"Professor Lupin! I did not know you would be here."

The werewolf graced her with his lopsided half-smile and waved her into the room.

"You really didn't, Hermione? Where else would I be on an evening like this," he chuckled.

Hermione smiled in return. Of course, she had often come across him in the Black library, as she was sitting on the floor, surrounded by books, or lounging on the couch, absorbed in one specific tome on a certain topic. He would come in, ask her about her current work, maybe discuss the topic for a few minutes, grab a book or two, and leave again to read in the silence of his room.

This, however, was the first time he had been in the library before her, and seeing as he was seated comfortably on the couch in front of the fireplace, he did not seem to be going soon.

"That may be true, Professor," Hermione countered, "but I have yet to have the honour of your company for an extended period of time."

Remus chuckled.

"Well, you have it now."

Sensing the unspoken question in her raised eyebrow, he elaborated.

"Sirius and Harry are visiting Buckbeak, who is in the room on right on top of mine, and he sounds to be joyfully prancing about, which with his hooves is mildly disturbing if all one wants to do is read in peace", he explained.

Hermione nodded in agreement; she understood all too well the need for some quiet, being often disturbed by two teenage boys who would stomp about with the grace of an overly enthused hippogriff themselves.

"Well," she mused, "I tend to talk to myself while working out a problem, so if you don't mind the occasional muttering…?" She trailed off.

Remus laughed; an enticing sound, Hermione thought to herself and wondered immediately where that thought had come from. The humming inside her increased for a short moment; her feeling seemed to agree.

"The same goes for me," he answered her, still smiling, "so I can hardly complain. Please, join me." He gestured to the room in general, a comfy armchair at a right angle to the couch he was sitting on was still empty, as well as the floor in the rectangular space the two pieces of furniture spanned, where Remus knew her to occasionally sit.

Hermione made her way to the small table in front of one of the ceiling-high shelves where she had left her books from the night before. She had taken to stowing them there, rather than take them up to her room once she finished for the night, after she discovered that it was impossible for her to put the tomes down once she had opened them in bed for some light reading before going to sleep. It had resulted in a couple of sleepless nights before she saw Remus narrow his eyes at the dark rings beneath her own, and his visible concern caused her to reconsider getting taking the books to bed. Of course that did not keep her from getting so immersed in a text seated here in the library; however, her behind would make its displeasure at being placed on the hard floor for too long known, and if she snuggled into the couch, Sirius would sooner or later stumble upon her, as he usually took a night cap in the library.

Glancing over the titles of the books on said table, she soon realized that they were no use to her tonight. As it was, she found she deserved some reprieve from all the hard studying she had been doing the last couple of days. She decided to stow away the texts on Lifeless to Animated Transfiguration and perused the shelves in search of a book on Advanced Arithmancy.

Walking along the correct shelf, she read through the titles of the thick tomes and smaller journals, touching each book as she read. She made it to the end of the shelf and went over the titles again in her head, compartmentalising what she had already read, what would be available at Hogwarts too, and what was of little interest to her. That left only a couple of texts holding the promise of a conducive lecture.

As she rethought those few titles once more, trying to decide on one she would study, she glanced about the room. Her eyes landed on Remus. He was still seated in the same position, eyes fixed on the open books in his hands, and his features were enhanced by the flickering fire. The warm glow softened the laugh lines around his eyes and lent a hue to his sandy hair Hermione had never known before but liked instantly.

Her feeling purred.

It was so sudden that Hermione gave a soft gasp and steadied herself on the shelf in front of her. Remus looked up and, seeing her seemingly in distress, was beside her in the blink of an eye.

"What is it?" he asked alarmed. "Did you touch one of the wrong books? Damned Blacks with their stupid Toujours Pur, I knew some of them would be viciously warded against Muggle-borns, but I thought Sirius had found them all. What can I do? Where does it hurt? Talk to me, Hermione!"

Hermione was so startled that it took her a while until she realized that Remus thought she was in pain. Her feeling purred only louder once he was standing next to her so closely, so his words took their sweet time on their way from her ears to her brain.

"No, no, Professor," she hastened to assure him, "I'm alright, nothing happened, it's just…"

She trailed off in thought. What exactly was it?

Remus's face still held the expression of concern. Gently taking her upper arm in one strong hand, he guided her to the armchair and set on the end of the couch closest to her.

"Talk to me, Hermione," he iterated. "What is it? What's been distracting you these days?"

Hermione knew he'd noticed something was wrong, had seen it in his eyes that were too perceptive at times, a trait she had always liked about him. But she had hoped he wouldn't comment on it, and he hadn't. Until now, that was, when he was asking her straight on.

"I –" She hesitated. "I don't know, Professor. These past few weeks, I've had this new feeling, this humming inside. It wasn't very strong at the beginning, and at times I would forget it was there, but it has somehow grown more intense during the last week, and just now, it – I don't know…"

Remus looked at her, deep in thought.

"When you say 'these past few weeks'," he said slowly, "How long do you mean? A fortnight? A month?"

"Longer than that," Hermione answered. "Let me think – I guess I first really noticed it when the Quibbler featured Harry's interview, but I remember having a weird tingle at the back of my mind for a few days before that. So… Eight weeks, maybe? Sometime around the middle of February?"

She could see Remus calculate in his mind. After a few seconds, his eyes widened in realization.

"Hermione," he asked, his voice full of concern, "on Valentine's day, did you drink or eat something you did not exactly know the contents of?"

Hermione's eyes grew as wide as saucers. She thought back to the day in question. It had been a Hogsmeade Saturday, and she had met up with Harry, Luna, and Skeeter for the interview.

"You think somebody slipped me something?"

Remus nodded sagely.

"Well, we went to the Three Broomsticks, and we had all drinks delivered to our table, rather than grab them at the bar. And I was a little distracted at breakfast, I guess. Other than that – no, I think I know everything."

"No presents from secret admirers?" Remus questioned.

Hermione laughed out loud at that.

"Oh no, no secret admirers for me, Professor," she chuckled darkly. "I mean, look at me – who would want to admire me?"

Her eyes grew sad. Harry had been on his date with Cho, and Ginny had been off with her latest boyfriend, but of course, nobody would be interested in her. She had grown used to the thought, but that didn't mean that it hurt any less.

"Boys your age are idiots, Hermione, and they often don't see what is right in front of them," Remus said softly. "You are a clever and powerful witch, and I must know what I'm talking about, because I taught you for a year."

"You are too kind, Professor," Hermione answered sadly, "but I have enough friends who like me for my brains. Of course, I like to think that Harry and Ron are genuine friends, but even they often come to me only to ask for my help with their homework. But more often people dislike me for being the swotty know-it-all that I am. And I know I am, I just can't help it. And on top of that, I am cursed with this demonic hair! Thank Merlin I got rid of my overly large front teeth last year, that at least took a little edge off. But still – I'm nothing remotely close to pretty, not even speaking of beautiful, so of course I don't have any admirers, neither secret nor otherwise."

When her little rant of self-deprecation had ended, she fell silent, staring off into the fire. Remus didn't know what to say. It was obvious she needed some encouragement, but coming from him it would probably carry little weight for her, assuming she chose to believe him. As it was, he rather liked her hair. It was wild and unruly, showing the free and independent spirit of the young witch behind her good and rule-abiding exterior. It carried a promise of the heated discussions one could get into with her, and hinted at the strength with which she would defend her values.

He took a long look at her face, and rediscovered the warm chocolate of her eyes which often drew his attention, and the small button of her nose. He could not contradict her in the sense that she certainly was no beauty, but she was a very pretty girl – young woman? – and he could see the potential of beauty in a couple of years.

Seeing the single glistening tear making its way down the soft skin of her cheek, he instinctively decided to tell her exactly what he thought of her appearance. He watched as her eyes first closed at his words, unbelieving and trying to shut him out, but as he spoke on, her lids opened slowly, her pupils dilated and her head turned to him.

When he was done speaking, her feeling gave another purr, far louder than the one earlier, and Hermione's hands jerked to her abdomen as she felt the vibration shift to behind her navel. Remus's eyes followed the movement of her hands, and narrowed again in thought.

"It is maybe best we continue on the working theory that you were, indeed, slipped something on Valentine's day," Lupin suggested, and Hermione nodded her agreement. "To find out how to free you from this – whatever this is," Remus continued, "please tell me everything from the beginning, Hermione." When he found her worriedly chewing on her lower lip, he further encouraged: "Every little detail might help."

Hermione took a deep breath, slowly nodded once more, and recollected her memories of the past eight weeks to the best of her abilities.

"It all started with a little nagging at the back of my mind. I often have that, juggling a myriad of thoughts in my head most of the time when I am at Hogwarts, and quickly dismissed this sensation as the same issue. It was easy to ignore at first, as I was so absorbed in a multitude of things – the DA, escaping Umbridge's wrath, constant worry for Harry, you name it.

"I didn't acknowledge it as something more until maybe a week later, when Harry's interview was featured in The Quibbler. That morning, the feeling advanced to a slight humming at the front of my head, but receded a shortly after. This would happen maybe once every other week, always at breakfast. Otherwise, it didn't make itself known during the time at Hogwarts.

"It picked up at the beginning of last week – Monday or Tuesday maybe? I remember because we had all missed breakfast and decided on an early lunch instead. I believe you joined us a little later, and sometime towards the end of the meal, when we were all laughing about some joke or other, I suddenly felt the veins in my arms vibrate with the intensified hum.

"Again, it receded sometime after lunch, but not as completely as it used to. I could still feel the humming, as if it was coming from a point closely beneath my heart. I would –"

She blushed and turned her eyes to the floor.

"I would feel my chest to see if the vibration was palpable on my skin as well. I couldn't sense it at first, but noticed a barely perceptible buzz on my ribcage. It still wasn't uncomfortable as such, but disturbing, and it gave me the feeling of missing something, something substantial, even fundamental to my well-being. To say that this was disconcerting, especially not being able to pinpoint what it was that I was – am – supposedly missing, would be an understatement.

"Still, I tried to shove it from my mind, but that proved to be impossible. The humming would increase at random times, often during meals but also when I was studying in the library. I have as of yet been unable to find a pattern in the intervals and intensity of the increase of the feeling. I can however say that the incident a couple of minutes ago and the one just now have been of singular intensity formerly unexperienced."

When she fell silent and appeared unwilling to continue, Remus gently prodded: "Tell me, Hermione. What happened just now, and earlier?"

Inhaling deeply and slowly releasing the breath, Hermione turned her eyes on the fire, unable to look into her former professor's eyes as she spoke.

"Earlier, I was looking about the room, trying to decide on a book for the evening, and this feeling – this will probably sound mad, but I don't know how else to describe it…"

Lupin made an encouraging sound, and Hermione continued.

"It purred."

Remus's eyes widened in surprise and something more the young witch could not identify. Hermione barely caught the expression in time, only shortly glancing up at her one-man-audience to capture his reaction, before she quickly drew her gaze away from him again.

"It had never done that before, and it simply took me by surprise. This purr, for lack of a better word, somehow resonated through my very bones, whereas before it only – only may be an understatement here – made my veins vibrate.

"And then just now, it kind of – it gave some sort of jerk, and suddenly moved downwards to my abdomen. I can still feel it now, much more present than before, just behind my navel."

Remus, who had listened intently but quietly, sensed the end of her tale and chose to offer his input.

"I may have an idea what this might be, but I am too uncertain still to be able to make an informed opinion." He hesitated for a moment, then quietly asked: "If it is not too much to presume, but – with your permission, might I feel your abdomen? It might help affirm or discard my theory."

Hermione finally looked at him, her eyes wide. He could see the wheels turn inside her mind, thinking about his request. Remus was at the brink of apologizing for his forwardness, when Hermione skid to the very edge of her armchair and brought her hands, which had rested on her belly before, to her sides. He took her unspoken permission for what it was, edged closer to her on the couch, and gently placed his hand on her abdomen.

Had he formerly doubted that the feeling she had described would be perceptible by anyone but her, the clearly noticeable vibration around her navel proved him instantly wrong. Even if he had expected to be able to feel the humming sensation, the fact that it was very much tangible through the soft fabric of her light jumper took him completely by surprise. He looked up at her face to try and read her emotions. Her eyes turned from his hand on her tummy to the green pools of his eyes. The chocolate colour of her irises changed from milk to dark within seconds, and he could feel her stomach lurch. Hermione gasped in surprise, and her hands jerked to cover his right, still placed on her abdomen. Only the humming wasn't originating from her navel anymore. Remus could tell that it had crept quite a few inches lower.

"Oh my," Hermione breathed, and Remus withdrew his hand from her grasp, slowly so as not to startle her.

"Hermione," Remus called softly in order to get her attention. It took her a few seconds to shake off the slight haze she found herself in. When she did, she raised her eyes to meet his, her gaze gradually zoning in on his face. Her cheeks were fully flushed in embarrassment. Remus wondered how low the blush would reach, and dismissed the thought as soon as it appeared to him.

"Hermione," Remus started again, "I would like to disclose my theory to you, but in order to do so, I must ask you to keep an open mind. I cannot be fully certain that I am right, so after I have told you all I have thought of as of now, I would like your input so that we can discuss my theory and possible ways to go from here. Is that alright with you?"

Hermione nodded her assent, still only partially focussing on the werewolf. The humming had receded a little but was still very much present somewhere below her abdomen. She was not yet prepared to acknowledge its exact location; too embarrassed was she that her former professor must certainly have felt or at the very least guessed whereto the feeling had sunk.

"I hope I am not too forward in assuming so, but all the situations you described somehow involved me, I believe," Remus began. Hermione instantly interrupted him.

"What? No, Professor, that cannot be right," she objected. "I told you that it started at Hogwarts, and I had not seen you since Christmas, until last week."

"That may be right," Remus conceded, "but as you will notice, I did not say it involved my very presence. At least not in all the instances you named. You said that while at Hogwarts, your feeling occurred usually sometime during breakfast, every other week or so. May I assume that it was usually at the time when the morning post would arrive? I only managed to write to you on a very irregular, but approximately biweekly basis, and so I would guess that this feeling increased whenever you received my letter. If I am wrong here, of course, my whole theory falls apart, so feel free to contradict me."

From the combined shock and dawning realization in Hermione's eyes, Lupin saw that he was indeed very much correct. After she and Harry had started the DA, she had asked for his input, seeing as he was her former DADA teacher and an Order member. Harry, of course, had tried to keep in contact with Sirius to reach the same goal, but his owls were far more heavily monitored than Hermione's, and Remus took care to always write to her on normal paper wrapped in Muggle envelopes, rather than parchment. Due to Hermione being so close to Harry, and Remus being a werewolf hated by Umbridge, they had to take care of appearances. The school authorities – meaning Umbridge and Filch, as her right-hand man – seemed to find no issue and even less interest in a Muggle-born receiving letters from who they assumed to be her parents. Hermione, in turn, did not address her letters to him at all, just like Lupin never signed his. They had managed, never an owl looking as if it had been intercepted, and Hermione gained precious insights and many tips on how to successfully teach a defence group.

Remus continued.

"You arrived here one and a half weeks ago, late on Friday night, which was April 2nd. The full moon was two nights later, on Sunday, and as I am usually very irritable a few days prior, I did not come to Grimmauld Place until after. Sirius had accompanied me that night, which was why he slept in, as did you and Harry incidentally. I joined you for your early lunch. That was the first occasion you described your feeling increased here."

Hermione, unable to contribute any reactions to what he said, clung to his every word, her attention not wavering for a moment.

"The other incidents you named – during meals or during your study sessions in the library – I guess involved my presence as well. And I was with you during the two, or rather now three times, your feeling drastically increased this evening. Due to all that, I feel it safe to assume that all this is somehow tied to me," Remus finished his explanation.

Never turning his gaze from her face, he saw her slowly nod.

"That makes sense, Professor," Hermione conceded, "but it does not really bring us any closer to the reason why it would increase in any and probably every situation that involves you. Or do you have an explanation for that as well?"

"Well," Remus drew the syllable out, seemingly reluctant to carry on with his theory. "This is all still very much hypothetical, and I hate jumping to conclusions, but…"

The expectant and somewhat hopeful look in Hermione's eyes convinced him to carry on.

"I remember your exasperation at Fred and George experimenting on students at Hogwarts."

Seeing the confused look on her face, he explained.

"It came to my attention during last summer that the twins were also developing different potions. More to the fact, love potions."

Hermione's jaw dropped, but before she could interrupt him, Remus quickly continued. "I do not know how far they managed to get, but I know that they experimented on specific love potions, ones they assumed to be less potentially harmful than Amortentia. I believe they tried to develop a potion that would increase the need for a person the consumer of the potion already – er – fancied, for lack of a better word."

At this point, Remus could not hold Hermione's gaze any longer, he turned his eyes away from her face and embarrassedly chose to stare into the flickering flames of the fireplace instead.

Hermione slowly exhaled a breath she had not known she was holding, and slumped back in her seat. It was true, she had always admired Lupin, but had he actually caught her fancy? He certainly assumed so, but if she had not known it herself, how could the potion have picked up on it?

"I -," Hermione began, but her voice caught in her throat, and it took her another try to speak the words. "I can honestly say that I was not aware of any such affection, as you say, Professor. I know you would never reciprocate any such affection, were I conscious of any fancy I harboured towards you or not. I know that I am far too young and inexperienced to even catch your eye, even though I am technically legal in both worlds, but –"

"Wait a second," Lupin suddenly interrupted her. "I thought your birthday was in September, and you're in your fifth year, so you must be sixteen? As far as I know, that is no legal age in either wizarding or muggle world."

Hermione fidgeted a little in her armchair, and finally admitted: "Well, officially you are of course correct, Professor. But in my third year, I had selected so many classes, that Professor McGonagall convinced the Ministry to allow me the use of a Time Turner. Quite a lot happened that year, what with extra study sessions to manage all my homework, whole nights repeated to research laws and precedents for Buckbeak's case, not even mentioning sleep. I – well, I kind of overdid it a little, and happened to have added almost twenty months to my life by the end of the year. It is April now, so yeah… I'm technically eighteen years old," Hermione finished lamely.

Lupin's jaw had dropped, and he appeared in no hurry to close his mouth, so Hermione decided to go back to the topic.

"But this is completely beside the point. As I was saying, you would not be interested in me anyway, even if I was fancying," she grimaced at the word, "you."

Remus had collected himself a little by that point, and her words managed to fully draw him from his stupor.

"So you don't?" he asked. "Fancy me, that is."

"I did not say that," Hermione answered, just a little too quickly.

Remus looked into her eyes, puzzled, and found embarrassment, confusion, and – interestingly – intrigue in them, fighting for dominance. She turned her head away from him and chose instead to fix her eyes on her own hands, wringing in her lap.

"I respect you as is your due, and I admire you for your intelligence, and power, and wit. You are kind, and empathetic, and considerate, and a thousand traits more I like about you. I certainly need not tell you that you are a handsome man on top of all that. So yes, it would be easy for me to be attracted to you, but as I said, I was not aware of such an attraction before you mentioned the possibility of it."

Stunned by her admission and the multitude of compliments, all Remus thought to was ask, "You find me handsome?"

This surprised Hermione to such an extent that she raised her eyes to meet his once more.

"But Professor," she stuttered, "surely you were aware of that fact?"

Seeing the confusion still very much visible in his expression, she thought for a while, then boldly continued.

"Firstly, your physique, if I may be so forward." Encouraged by Lupin's nod, she carried on. "You are tall, and I have never encountered anybody who did not find tall men attractive. You are lean and muscular enough to be considered fit and strong, but not so much as to seem overpowering. You move with natural agility, probably a little due to – er – Moony, and the way you carry yourself speaks of a preparedness that I find very fetching.

"Secondly, your features and such. Your hair may appear shaggy, but never actually looks unkempt. The sandy blond colour enhances the tan of your skin. The length may just be a personal favourite of mine, but I like the way it underlines your facial expressions if you will it so.

"Lines and scars streak your face, and some may be intimidated and shrink away from you, but all they are to me is a sign of strength, of willpower to go on through any hardship you may face, and of the braveness to try and embrace life, and all the obstacles be damned. You appear older than you are, I know, but it doesn't make you an old man, far from it. It doesn't hint at age, but rather screams experience, and if that doesn't get you the witches, then I don't know what will."

Hermione chuckled softly, as she saw the half bemused, half amused expression on Remus's face. She was not finished, though.

"And your eyes – don't even get me started on your eyes…" Seeing his inquisitive glance, she continued. "Your eyes sometimes change colour with your feelings. Most often they are of a soft green of a birch tree's leaves on a sunny day, but just now they have shifted to a dark malachite that I adore. In rare moments, when your heightened senses come to the surface, your eyes shine with an almost yellow tinge that speaks of your inner wolfish wildness that you keep so carefully inside most of the time, but your glance is still softer than any man's I know.

"Some of these may be personal preferences of mine, but I am certain that most witches would agree with me on the majority of the points mentioned. And that, Professor, is what makes you handsome."

Hermione fell silent at long last, and waited patiently for some reaction from the man she had so highly praised, afraid she might have been too bold, risked too much, and overstepped too far. While she had indeed expected some kind of reaction from him, what he said next took her completely by surprise.

"Remus," Remus muttered.

Not entirely confident she could trust her ears, Hermione asked, "Excuse me?"

"I haven't been your professor in quite some time now, Hermione, and I expect you to become an Order member soon, and even if you don't, after this rather high praise of my person – which, in my opinion, comes mostly undeserved, but I thank you nonetheless – you should maybe start calling me by my given name. I would have offered it long ago, had you not seemed so comfortable calling me 'Professor'. But now, I cannot in good conscience allow you to refer to me by that title any more, I'm afraid."

The tentative smile he gave her broadened even more, as she tried his name for the first time.

"Remus."

The R rolled off her tongue with a sweet little twist Remus had not heard before, the M caressed by her lips with a gentility he instantly desired, and by the time the S fell off her lips, something had become very clear to the werewolf: not only was Hermione indeed attracted to him, even though formerly unaware of that fact – he was very much attracted to her as well.

"Hermione," he answered warmly, and her hands flew to her lower belly again. He damned himself for earlier having felt into which direction the humming in her abdomen had moved, and for having a very good idea of where exactly she was experiencing the vibration now.

"Remus," Hermione asked, fear visible amidst all the other raging emotions in her eyes, "I have this need… This indescribable need, and I don't know what to do."

The last words were almost sobs, and he felt uncomfortable in almost certain knowledge of what it was she needed.

He hesitated for another few seconds, but when the desperation on her face became too much to bear, he dared the question.

"I apologize for having to ask you this, Hermione, but have you –" He swallowed thickly, then started again. "Have you ever been with a man?"

He feared to meet her gaze, but kept his eyes locked onto hers nonetheless, feeling that she needed the assurance that this was nothing to be ashamed to talk about.

"No," she whispered so quietly, he more read it from her lips than heard her. "No," she reiterated, her voice a little stronger now, "there was only Viktor last year, and I stopped him after a very sweet but also slightly awkward kiss, and I haven't been remotely interested in anybody else since, and that's not even taking into account whether somebody might actually reciprocate my feelings."

'I do,' a Remus's inner voice screamed, but he lacked the boldness to speak the words aloud. Determined to overcome his worries of impropriety and, maybe even worse, the possibility of rejection, Remus chose to voice at least part of his attraction.

"Remember what I told you before, Hermione. You are pretty in your own right, and I believe any man should be happy to be the centre of your attraction. I can in all honesty say that I would be."

Remus's words left her breathless, and the humming intensified to a point at which her veins vibrated with a frequency that almost matched that of her heartbeat, frenzied as it was.

"Remus," Hermione gasped, "I don't know what to do. Help me, please, I can't carry on like this much longer."

Lupin inhaled deeply, and offered, "I do not believe that whoever slipped you this potion had any ill intent. Otherwise, they would have used a far more harmful potion which might have directed your attraction onto somebody specific, rather than leave it open to your own heart. I have no detailed knowledge of how far this potion will encourage you to go, and what actions or what goal might appease it so that its effects will cease. I suggest we go slow, and try to play this by ear."

Hermione, her face contorted into a mask of raw need, nodded, and asked, "What exactly do you propose we do?"

Remus liked the sound of her asking what 'we' should do, as if he and I were an item, however much it pained him to know it was the potion which had initially pushed her towards him, no matter how existent her attraction had been before consummating the wretched draught.

Silently he reached for her hand. As she slipped her palm into his offered hand, he marvelled at the smallness of hers, the slimness of her fingers, and the warmth that coursed through his outstretched hand and up into his arm, making its way directly to his heart. He tugged on her slightly, and she willingly wiggled further to the edge of her armchair. Mirroring her movements, he sat to the very edge of the couch, leaning closer to her.

Slowly, Remus brought his other hand up to cup Hermione's face. Her cheeks flushed to a dark crimson, her skin radiated an incredible heat, yet she shivered when his fingers made contact with her face. Drawing her closer to him, Remus leaned even further towards her. When his lips were almost upon hers, he stopped, and whispered, "With your permission, I will kiss you now, Hermione."

Her lips opened, and a breathy 'yes' escaped, before it was swallowed as his mouth met hers in a symphony of sweetness. Tentative and uncertain at first, Hermione soon grew bolder and pressed her lips closer to his. When his tongue begged entrance into her mouth, she gave it freely.

Sensing her growing passion and need for touch, Remus tugged once more on her hand. Not ever releasing the contact her mouth had with his, Hermione followed his guidance and rose from her armchair, only to straddle Remus until she was seated on his thighs. Freeing the hand he still held, she brought it up to join her other as they grasped his shoulders. Remus's hands sunk to grab her legs just above the knee.

Hermione's whole body was humming by now, even Lupin could feel that. Her feeling appeared to both purr with satisfaction and demand for so much more, and she felt the need to appease it by wriggling closer to Remus on his lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she was soon flush against him, her centre rubbing against the rather substantial bulge in his crotch.

Remus drew away from her lips with a gasp, uncertain of whether he could allow himself to accept her passion as freely as it was offered. One glance at her darkened eyes, he threw all caution to the wind. His hands grasped her bottom and pulled her even closer to him as his mouth met hers once more in a bruising kiss.

When Hermione started to dry-hump him, however, some niggling thought at the back of his mind returned.

"Hermione," he gasped against her lips. She rubbed against him in answer.

"Hermione," he began anew, grabbing her upper arms and firmly looking into her eyes. "If you ever want me to stop, tell me, and I will instantly stop. Do you understand?"

She nodded sagely, the sobriety of her answer clear in her otherwise lust-muddled expression.

"And if you want me to do something differently," Remus continued, "you must tell me as well. This is first and foremost about your needs, in order to appease the potion. Have I made myself clear?"

Hermione nodded once more, impatience visible in the way her hips nudged his once again.

"Now, what do you need, Hermione?" Remus asked.

She bit her lip, uncertain in her passionate desire, but unwilling to stop now. Leaning closer to him, her lips almost at his ear in order not to have to look him in the eyes as she made her request, she whispered, "I need you to touch me, Remus."

Without looking around even once, Remus took his wand from the side table next to the couch, pointed it at the door he knew to be behind him, and locked it, just before silencing the room. Harry and Sirius would probably be staying up late, talking and making up for lost time, forgetting about any other people in the house, but he would not risk being walked in on with Hermione.

Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he dropped his wand back onto the side table, and slid his hands from where they grabbed her arms down to her hips. Once there, he reached for the bottom of her jumper and slowly, so that she might object in time if she wanted, slipped it up and over her head, only to be discarded to the floor somewhere.

Hermione was silently grateful she had opted to wear blue lace this morning, rather than the simple white cotton she often chose. The look in Remus's eyes as he took in her lace-encased breasts, small but firm, spoke volumes to his desire for her. Her eyes closed as his lips met her jaw, working their way downwards to the vee of her breasts, where he would kiss the top of her soft mounds. She felt the delightful tingle of his skin on hers as his fingers stroked upwards along her spine. Remus opened the clasp of her bra and with reverence in his eyes, locked onto her breasts, slowly drew the garment away from her chest.

His breath hitched as he took in the roundness of her firm breasts, light pink areolas surrounding the slightly darker nipples, and he brought his mouth back to her skin. As his lips kissed their way across her left breast, his warm hand cupped her right. With the perfect amount of pressure, he kneaded the soft flesh with his fingers, and when his lips finally enclosed her left nipple, he gave the right one a little pinch. Hermione gasped loudly, panting for air, as the sensation became too much for her in the most delicious way possible.

Previously predisposed with grabbing his shoulders so she would not fall down with the pure enjoyment of it all, her hands now wandered to his collar and busied themselves with opening the buttons of his shirt. She fumbled quite a bit as she had never undressed anybody other than herself before, but soon learned the correct way, even around the sensation of his lips and fingers on her chest. When their position hindered her in reaching the lower buttons, she pouted and breathed, "Remus, I need to feel you."

Ceasing the attention he was paying her breasts, Lupin lent Hermione a hand in standing up and followed suit. Standing before her, he once again realized how diminutive she really was, a good foot smaller than he, just shy of reaching his shoulders with the top of her head. Hermione, of course, admired his height, just not right now, as she was busy pulling the last of his buttons from their holes. When she had finished her task, she tugged his shirt from his trousers and reached up to his shoulders, marvelling at their broadness. Meeting his eyes, she silently asked for permission to fully remove his shirt, and he granted her wish by helping to push it from his shoulders.

When both their upper bodies were naked, Remus drew her to him once more, one hand at the small of her back pressing her naked chest to his, the other gently clasping her jaw and tipping her head upwards into a passionate kiss. The humming, meanwhile, had not lessened any bit, and Hermione rubbed her thighs together with impatience.

"Please, Remus," she begged against his lips, "I need you to touch me; down there."

Unwilling to deny her request, Remus turned her around until her back leaned against his strong chest, and carefully sat them both down on the couch again. Drawing her into his lap, he made sure she was comfortable, before starting to draw little circles on her thighs with his fingers. Her impatience increasing tenfold, Hermione wiggled her butt, instinctively knowing the things it would do to Remus's hard bulge, and he relented. Knocking off the teasing, his hands flipped her skirt out of the way and pushed her legs apart until they rested on the outsides of his thighs. Then, he cupped her womanly mound. A soft moan escaped Hermione's lips. Encouraged by the sound, Remus purposefully drew a finger along her folds, still wrapped in the soft blue lace of her knickers. Another moan, now louder, was ripped from her lungs, and Remus decided to free her from the confines of the fine lace.

Fuelled by his impatience which by now mirrored her own, the thin fabric ripped under his rather forceful tug. Whispering an insincere apology for the ripped knickers and a sincere promise of showering her in new fancy underwear, his fingers finally met her hot folds. To keep himself from claiming her right there and then, Remus sunk his teeth into the next best thing available, as he tried to wrap his mind around the incredible wetness and scourging heat his fingers encountered. At her surprised yelp, he opened his eyes, realizing two things: he must have previously closed them in pleasure, and the soft thing encased in his teeth was Hermione's left naked shoulder. His inner wolf howled at the sight of the clearly visible mark his teeth had left in her tender skin, and from the hitch in the vibration still distinctly palpable on her pussy, she enjoyed the possessive act almost as much as he did.

Opting for the relative safety of nibbling at her earlobe instead of tearing into her shoulder, Remus's fingers circled in on the small nub that was her clit. As he stroke over it gently for the first time, a jolt of pleasure shot through Hermione that made her almost jump from his lap. Lupin's left hand then travelled to her left breast to massage it, and his right forearm rested firmly across her right hip, so she would not accidentally escape him. His right fingers crept lower teasingly, circling around her entrance before his middle finger entered her slowly.

Remus knew he probably should have expected the tightness that now took him completely by surprise. He carefully released her earlobe from where it was sucked between his lips, lest he bit it off in pleasure. Hermione's head rolled back and came to rest on his left shoulder as her own passion became too much for her body to spare any attention or strength to carry the weight of her head itself any longer. Lupin slid his digit deeper into Hermione's tunnel until the tip met the expected barrier. Knowing the depth to which he might enter her now, Remus started to slowly pump his finger. His palm came to rest on her moist mound, and rubbed against her clit with every careful thrust into her tight passage.

Hermione was writhing in pleasure by now. Fuelled by the attention Remus bestowed on her body, she was taken to heights formerly unknown, but she felt it was not enough. She needed more.

"Remus," she panted, her head leaned so far back that her lips brushed his ear as she spoke, "Remus, I need… I need…"

"Tell me," Remus whispered. "Tell me, and I will give it to you."

Hermione drew a rattled breath, and when she released it again, more words escaped.

"I need more, Remus, more of you, and I need to see."

Remus withdrew his hand from Hermione's moist depth and brought it to his face, languidly sucking her juices from his finger. She mewled in protest at the loss of contact. Quickly conjuring a tall mirror to stand in between their legs, Remus obliged her request. He pushed her skirt further up around her hips, until they both had an unobstructed view of her nether regions. Foregoing his desire to tease her some more, Remus brought his hand back to her centre and opened her folds with his index and ring finger. Hermione had raised her head from its former resting place on his shoulder and had her eyes glued to scene reflected in the conjured mirror. Remus could still very clearly feel the humming in her core. His middle finger rubbed across her little nub, which elicited a pleasured gasp from the young witch on his lap, before it delved deep into her wet tunnel again. Nibbling at Hermione's earlobe, he kept his eyes fixed on the mirror as well, his attention quickly switching from the sight of his hand pleasuring her to the delicious expressions he wrought from her face and back again. Never before had he seen anything even remotely as arousing as this.

Sensing Hermione's impatience, Remus thrust his middle finger into her a few more times before joining his ring finger. Had he believed her to be tight before, he now realized that she was indeed filled to the brim with just his two fingers. He groaned at the thought of what her pussy would feel like wrapped around his cock, but her loud moan brought him quickly back to the scene at hand. (He inwardly grimaced at the unintended, but very bad pun.)

Absorbed as she was in the sight in the mirror, Hermione seemed to have trouble concentrating on watching, as her whole body erupted into small trembles. Despite her inquisitive nature, she was unable to watch her own orgasm play out, as her head fell back onto Remus's shoulder as she reached her peak. Her walls contracted around Remus's fingers and gripped him so firmly that he was kept from prolonging her orgasm with more thrusts. Instead, he rubbed his palm over her clit more furiously than before which met with obvious approval as a long low scream was ripped from Hermione's lips. Remus had to fight against the pressure of her legs, still resting on the outside of his thighs, which were trying to push closed to entrap his hand on her pussy. When her scream ended with a whispered "Remus" against his ear and the pressure suddenly vanished, he knew she had come down from her high.

The werewolf was content to let his hand rest in exactly the position it was now in, his fingers still lodged inside her tight canal. Ignoring the throbbing in his erection, still confined in his jeans and insistently pressing against the bum perched on his lap, he instead concentrated on the rapid heartbeat he could feel behind Hermione's folds. As the rhythm slowly calmed, Remus realized that the humming seemed to have stopped. It appeared they had managed to appease the love potion. His heart sunk at the realization. Of course, he did not wish to continue this – whatever this was – solely because some potion pushed Hermione into action. However, she seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed his ministrations and he was loathe to end their evening now.

Still deep in thought about how he might persuade her to stay with him and not vanish to her room right now, he was startled as the little witch grabbed his hand and withdrew it from her depths. The apology that was on the tip of his tongue disappeared into nothingness, however, as Hermione drew his hand to her face and closed her soft lips around the fingers that were covered in her lust. Her tongue darted around his fingers as she sucked her own juices from his skin, and Remus's breath hitched at her actions. When she released his fingers with a resounding 'plop', she placed his hand against one breast, the other still cupped in his left. Instinctively, Remus softly kneaded her breasts.

Neither of them spoke for a while, both still basking in the afterglow of Hermione's orgasm. Remus's fingers drew lazy circles on her soft mounds, closing in on her nipples and carefully pinching them. When the first moan escaped Hermione's mouth, she finally spoke.

"Thank you."

Her voice was soft against his ear, her breath warming the side of his face, and Remus answered sincerely, "It was my pleasure."

Hermione's small hands came up to cover his larger ones. They rested there for a few moments, following his movements across her breasts. After a couple of minutes, she squeezed his hands and Remus stopped in his ministrations.

"Remus," Hermione whispered hesitantly, "I believe it is gone."

Remus sighed.

"I know," he whispered back, his voice almost breaking, "I felt it stop."

The mirror showed her chewing on her lower lip.

"Remus," she started again, insecurity audible in her voice even if he hadn't seen it in the reflection of her face, "you said we'd play this by ear."

He hummed his encouragement for her to go on.

"I really liked the music we played so far."

He had to smile at her continued use of the metaphor.

"As did I," he readily and whole-heartedly agreed.

A short silence followed. Then:

"I'd love to listen to the end of the concert."

To say he was completely flabbergasted would be a massive understatement. Thoughts whirled wildly in his head. Did she mean what he thought she meant? Was he even allowed to go any further, now that there was not strictly a need for him to do so? Would she regret it in the morning?

With a whispered 'finite' from her lips, the mirror disappeared from view. Hermione gingerly stood up only to turn around and straddle Remus once more. Looking him straight in the eye, she took a deep breath, summoning all her courage.

"Remus," she said, her voice full of conviction, "take me to bed, please."

The expression on her face told him all he needed to know. He knew he did not need to ask whether she was certain about this, he knew this was no decision made out of a lust-filled haze or stupid schoolgirl crush. This was obviously what she wanted, what they both wanted, and he would not, could not deny her.

Cupping her bottom cheeks with his hands, he stood up. Her legs closed around his hips and her arms went to his shoulders, supporting herself on his body as he carried her to the door. Remus picked up his wand on the way, and with a wave banished their clothes which were strewn across the library to his room. He then disillusioned the two of them. As the charm travelled over her body, Hermione shuddered. The movement caused Remus's erection to throb even more insistently than before, and he quickly made his way to his room.

Closing and locking the door behind them, Remus dropped his little witch gently onto his bed before silencing and warding the room so that they would still be able to hear what was going on outside. When he turned back to her, he lifted the Disillusionment charm. He took his time to fully absorb her naked body and imprint it into his memory. She truly was a sight to behold. Her unmarred skin stretched beautifully over her small but firm breasts. The soft plain of her flat stomach led to wild brown curls nestling in the nape between her thighs. Her delicate toes curled in expectation of pleasures to come, and her lovely face was surrounded by a furious halo of chocolate curls streaked with honey.

Hermione started to fidget under his intense gaze. Sensing her insecurity, Remus's mouth split into a warm and appreciative smile which seemed to calm her nerves. She drew herself up unto her knees as he stepped closer to the bed. Her eyes met his, and at the lust she found there, she brought her right hand up to cup his erection. She did not exert any pressure, but Remus could not help the moan that escaped him at the sensation of her warm fingers against his bulge. Encouraged by the sound, her left hand joined the right, and together they loosened his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, and tugged at the offending garment. Remus assisted her in her quest, shoving down his jeans and removing his boxers with the same movement. When he made to impatiently rip his socks off his feet, he almost lost his balance, and had to hop around on one foot a couple of times, his magnificent erection bobbing in front of Hermione's face. At her shocked expression, Remus's heart sank. Had he scared her away?

Lifting her head to meet his eyes, Hermione looked at him, astonished.

"Are they all this huge?" she questioned, awed and a little afraid.

His ego soared at the indirect compliment. Hoping the smugness did not roll off him in waves, Remus allowed himself a warm chuckle.

"No," he answered honestly, "I am rather more well-endowed than the average wizard."

Hermione's bottom lip disappeared between her teeth to be chewed upon, as she was wont to do when pondering something.

"I don't know whether that makes me a very fortunate witch or not," she finally laughed breathlessly. Seeing her troubled expression, Remus tried to ease her concerns.

"I will be honest with you," he said and saw her steel herself. "It will hurt at first, but that would happen no matter who you chose to be your first partner. However, it may take you a little longer to adjust to my size than it would with somebody else. Opinions differ on the importance of size, but personally I believe that the friction provided by a large girth will usually be preferable over somebody slimmer."

Her face had softened a bit at his explanations, but it was not enough for him. He needed her to trust him.

"Hermione," he offered warmly, "I will do my utmost to keep your discomfort to a minimum. It cannot be wholly avoided, and for that I am very sorry, but please believe me when I say that I want to bring you nothing but pleasure."

He did not offer her to back out now, as she already knew she could do so at any time. He saw the conviction in her face and softly pushed her back onto the bed. Lying down on her back, she watched Remus as he climbed on top of her, his legs settling between her thighs. His lips covered hers once more in a reverent, almost loving kiss, and he felt the tension seep from her body. Her hands wandered into the nape of his neck to play with the shorter strands of his hair there. Resting on his left elbow, Remus let his right hand travel down across Hermione's stomach and to the heat between her legs. His fingers teased her clit, rubbing over the little nub until she elicited the sweetest of moans into his mouth. He knew then that she was ready to receive him, and brought his erection to her core. Grinding the bulbous head along her slit until it was properly covered in her juices, he finally rested it against her entrance. When she mewled in expectation and slightly bucked her hips against him, Remus could wait no longer. He pushed into her heated core slowly.

Remus thought his heart would stop as the tight, hot wetness of her canal engulfed him. His breath certainly did. He closed his eyes to keep from thrusting into her pussy with the greed he was feeling, needing more of the infinite pleasure he gained from only tipping the head into her centre, but keeping himself back for her sake. When his air ran out, he inhaled a shaky breath and looked down into Hermione's eyes. They were wide open, staring to the ceiling of his room. She tried to grasp the concept of how it was possible to be stretched to this extent but was unable to find the answer in the wallpaper. When she sensed his eyes on hers, her gaze focused on his face and her lips formed a little smile. Encouraged by that, Remus pushed deeper until the tip of his cock nudged the small barrier that was her hymen.

Tension had crept back into his little witch's body, the werewolf could feel, and he leaned down to capture her lips in a sensual and caring kiss once more. His right hand nudged her upper thighs, encouraging Hermione to wrap her legs around his hips. The modified angle allowed him easier access to her core and would lessen the pain to come. Hermione slowly relaxed into their kiss, and when Remus felt the grip of her walls on his hard length ease, he pushed forward and through her hymen.

The logical part of his brain knew he had not heard her hymen rip, but he could not shake the imagined sound from his mind. Hermione's legs tightened around his hips, her heels digging into his butt, and she ripped her lips from his to gasp her pained surprise. She seemed to want to push him away with her hips while trying to draw away herself at the same time, but she was pinned beneath his weight and neither was any use. Remus kissed away the tears that had sprung from her eyes, his hands cupping her face and soothingly stroking her curls as he whispered words of encouragement. He could feel her walls clenching and unclenching around his hard cock, in the same rhythm as her hands tightened and relaxed in his hair. He ignored the pain from his scalp and the pleasure from his achingly stiff member, instead focusing on helping her through her own pain.

After a while, her tears stopped, and Hermione drew a shaky breath. As she exhaled slowly, her inner walls fluttered and relaxed eventually, as did the pressure from her thighs. She opened her eyes and gazed up into his face, her expression rapidly alternating between fright and trust, finally settling on hopeful anticipation.

"I feel so… so full," she whispered, awed.

Remus chuckled.

"My sweet girl, if only you knew how fucking tight you are," he gasped in response, fighting to hold back until she allowed him to move.

Hermione's face changed into an expression of surprise at his swearing. True, Remus was usually a very controlled man, he needed to be if he wanted to keep his inner wolf in check who was howling in pleasure right now. When her hips bucked almost seemingly of their own volition, it was obvious to Remus that she was turned by his words and ready for more.

He carefully withdrew his length from her until only the tip rested inside her canal. Locking his eyes onto hers, he slowly entered her again. Inch of blissful inch of his hard cock vanished into her hot depth, and Hermione's lips parted more and more, until they finally formed an ardent O when he was fully nestled inside her walls. Seeing her still slightly pained expression, Remus whispered words of courage into her ear, praising her bravery and her strength. Her mouth stretched into a tentative smile, and she dug her heels into his behind to motivate him to move some more.

And so they settled into a rhythm. Remus would withdraw until he was about halfway out, then ease back into her again until he bottomed out. After a few of these shallow thrusts, Hermione's hips began to meet his with every movement, and soft mewls of pleasure would escape her lips now and then. The werewolf did his best to hold back, to not simply pump away but to take care not to hurt her.

At some point, Remus shifted a little to better rest his weight onto his elbows, and the new angle seemed to work miracles for his little witch. An excitedly gasped 'Remus!' escaped her lips, followed by a deliciously throaty moan, and he could not help but pick up the rhythm. Hermione did not seem to mind; to the contrary, her hips rising to meet each of his powerful thrusts and her cheeks were flushed in enthused passion.

Remus could feel he was close. Desperate for her to accompany him on his way over the edge, he moved his right hand in between their bodies, his nubile fingers quickly finding the little bundle of nerves at her apex. When he rubbed there, Hermione's hips bucked erratically, unable to keep their rhythm, and her moans grew louder. Impatient for his own release, Remus's thrusting became frantic, picking up speed, depth, and power, until he was almost at the point of fright she might break beneath his hard fucking, but so absorbed in his own lust he could not quite bring himself to care.

He felt himself near the brink, and needed her right there beside him as they tipped over.

"Hermione," he gasped in between thrusts, "please, my sweet girl, please come for me."

His words seemed to do the trick for her, as her voice erupted in a scream of pleasure. Remus was almost certain he could hear his own name in the midst of her passionate cries, but found himself unable to concentrate as her walls clenched around his hard cock almost painfully. Two more thrusts were all it took for him to fall over the edge, and in between his groans her name escaped his lips, again and again. Even when they had both calmed down, he found himself to still be whispering her name, lovingly, into her ear.

He stayed inside her for as long as possible, balancing his weight on his elbows as his hands framed her face and he showered her in kisses. She was smiling serenely beneath him, gracing him with a look of such utter pleasure it pained his heart to see. Finally, he softened and slipped out of her. Her indignant mewl mirrored his displeasure at having to leave her heated core, but he rolled off of her and came to lie next to her.

The room was silent for a few minutes, both of them still happily basking in the bliss that was the afterglow of their orgasms. When their bodies had calmed down a little, Hermione started to shiver. The werewolf had no need to heat his room, and the harsh weather of April had seeped into the walls and left the air cold. Remus drew Hermione into his arms, her body tucked into his side with her head resting on his chest, and lifted the covers over the two of them. Her hand painted lazy circles onto his flat stomach, now and then tickling the small trail of hair that led from his navel downwards, as her skin absorbed the heat emanating from his body. Her shivers receded quickly, and when they stopped, she sighed. The sound seemed to originate from the very depths of her being, and Remus had not heard such a heart-warming sound in a long time. It carried the air of utter relaxation, both physically and emotionally, and to know he had helped make her feel so completely at peace made his heart skip a beat.

They knew they would have to break the silence at some point. Hermione was the first to do so.

"Thank you," she murmured, and Remus had no doubt at the sincerity of her words. He did not trust himself to answer, afraid his voice would betray the undiscernible emotions inside him, knowing anything he could say would be entirely inadequate and hopelessly inappropriate. As it was, he was content to lie there with her beside him, in silence, not thinking about what their actions might mean for the future.

She, however, was not.

"Remus," she asked, uncertainty clearly audible in her small voice, "what happens now?"

The werewolf hesitated.

"I don't know," he answered tentatively, "what would you like to happen now?"

His little witch seemed to ponder her reply for a couple of moments. Had he been able to see her face from his perspective, he was certain he would see her chew on her lush bottom lip again.

"I believe," she started, then broke off and thought some more. When she began anew, she seemed to have made up her mind.

"I believe I am not quite ready for a relationship. After all, despite having met a couple of years ago, you and I still barely know each other. It would only complicate things quite a bit, and I am not convinced that we would be good for each other in the long run. And I honestly do not see how a short term relationship would be worth the effort."

Remus hummed his agreement. With her being in school and him regularly away on missions, they would hardly see each other, and he did not want to even begin to think about how others would react to any relationship between them, a schoolgirl and her former teacher who was, on top of it all, a werewolf. No, Hermione was certainly right that the pleasure they could possibly gain from a short fling was not worth the displeasure they would inevitably meet. And as much as he liked and respected her, he could not quite imagine a long term future with her.

Hermione was not quite finished though.

"However," she continued, drawing out the word as if uncertain whether she should actually voice what she was about to say, "that does not mean that I did not enjoy sleeping with you. You are a wonderful man, Remus, and quite a skilled lover as far as I can tell with my very much limited experience."

Remus's ego soared once more at the compliment, his chest swelling with the pride he felt at knowing she had enjoyed herself so much she would put it into words.

"Seeing as I am unwilling to pursue a physical relationship with anybody else at the moment, mostly but not exclusively due to the lack of desirable men in my immediate vicinity, I would like to continue sleeping with you while I am here at Grimmauld Place."

When he did not answer for a few moments, she made to get up.

"I apologize, Remus, of course you would not –"

His hand on her waist, tugging her closer to him, held her back, both her body and her words.

"Hermione," he spoke with as much sincerity as he could possibly convey, "I would be honoured to continue having you in my bed for as long as you like."

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, so relieved was she at his reply.

"Of course," Remus continued with a chuckle, "we would not necessarily need to limit this strictly to my bed. After all, we already started on the library couch. We can try some more venues, if you like."

Hermione giggled at his words. The sound was so sweet that Remus could not help it; his face broke into a wide smile, so enamoured was he by her joy.

When she had calmed down, Hermione added some more thoughts.

"I would like this to not affect our – er – professional relationship, for lack of a better expression. That is, I would like to still be able to ask for your advice for the DA. Also, I will not stand in your way if you find somebody you would rather be with. I expect you to do the same for me, even if I do not see any chance of that happening any time soon."

Remus nodded.

"That goes without saying," he agreed. "I want for you to enjoy your stay here for as long as your Easter holidays last. If we both still feel the same about this when you return here in the summer, we can continue then. Let us just take this as it comes, why don't we?"

And with these words, Hermione snuggled tightly into his side. He could feel her satisfaction in the sweetness of her kiss and the warmth of her whispered 'good night'. He fell asleep soon after she did, his face split into a content smile, his last thoughts directed at the bright future of the next few days.