The Only Truth
Sep. 13th, 2007 07:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tattooedsirenTitle: The Only Truth
Ships: Remus/Hermione (with some Viktor/Hermione)
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Say it with me now ~ me ... don't ... own. Inspired by a line from The New World.
Summary: Four years after saying goodbye, Remus and Hermione meet once more.
Authors Notes: Okay, so my summary sucks, but I really struggled to write a summary for this fic, and I think once you read it you'll understand why. Anyway, I love how this fic turned out, and I hope you do too. Enjoy!
The Only Truth
There is a knock on the door, not unexpected but still surprising. Hermione places the cup and saucer that she holds in her lap onto the nearby coffee table and slowly stands. She smiles at her husband as she passes him where he sits on the settee, silently reading. She forces the smile to be big and bright, the look of someone who is excited to be meeting with a friend for the first time in over four years, when in truth, her feelings are much more complicated than that.
Hermione pauses a moment by the door, taking in a large lungful of air, needing to calm and centre herself. When she is as ready as she will ever be, she slowly opens the door.
The intervening years have done little to age him. Maybe it is because he was already prematurely aged. Perhaps it is because he had at last found whatever it was he was searching for. Whatever the reason, it is shocking to see him standing there, looking the same as he did the last time she saw him.
He smiles at her, warmly but uncertainly, and she realises that she has been staring. She quickly recovers, standing aside and letting him in. They silently walk into the sitting room, where Viktor stands to greet them.
“Viktor, this is Remus Lupin, an old friend. Remus, my husband, Viktor Krum.”
The two men shake hands. Viktor soon excuses himself, leaving the two old friends alone to catch up. He kisses Hermione’s cheek on his way out, and Hermione pretends not to notice Remus look away, seemingly unable to watch this small point of affection.
When they are alone, the nerves came back. Hermione has no idea what to say, where to start. So she says the first thing she thinks of. “Tea?”
Remus smiles, nodding. “Please.”
“Have a seat. I’ll be back in a moment.”
She slides into the kitchen, automatically moving about the room, preparing a drink for Remus and a fresh one for herself. Only when the water is boiling and she has nothing to occupy her mind does she lean back against the bench, her arms wrapped around her midsection, feeling as though everything has just been turned upside down.
*
“Hot chocolate?” Remus asked.
Hermione looked up from her book. He stood in the doorway, two steaming mugs in his hands. She nodded, thankful. He moved gracefully into the room, joining her on the couch and handing one of the drinks over.
“Thankyou,” she said, lifting the mug to her lips and gently blowing on the liquid.
“You are very welcome.” He took a sip of his own drink. “Any progress?”
She shook her head, frustrated. “It’s like it’s right on the tip of my mind, you know. I’m so close, but there is something missing, something small but vital, that will make everything fall into place.”
This wasn’t the first time he had seen her like this. But he had to concede her frustration was usually warranted, that she genuinely was close to a breakthrough, however small, and that she wouldn’t relax until she had gotten there.
He didn’t want this for her. She deserved better. But there really was no other option. With the amount of muggle-born wizards and witches disappearing daily, it just wasn’t safe for Hermione in the wizarding world anymore. She didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to run away instead of staying and fighting. It was Harry who convinced her at last to go, breaking down and admitting that the loss of her would be something beyond his abilities to deal with and please would she just stay safe for him. At last she finally relented. Harry pointing out that she could still be of enormous use to them by researching all she could definitely helped to smooth the process.
And so here they were, four months later in a small-town cottage, Remus by Hermione’s side as her protector in case any Death Eater decided to scour the muggle world for Harry’s best friend.
“You’ll get there, Hermione,” he replied, his voice a greater comfort than he realised. “You always do.”
He laid his hand comfortingly on hers, surprised when she gripped onto it. They sat silently for a few minutes, music from the wireless drifting through the space between them. When Hermione was finally ready she met Remus’ eyes and nodded. He smiled at her, lifting her hand to his lips and brushing a kiss over knuckles before standing and leaving the room.
*
She walks into the room carrying a tray. She sets it down on a table, then hands him his drink. Their fingers momentarily brush, and for a fleeting second their eyes meet. She almost drops the cup in her haste to remove herself from his touch. She lifts up a plate of biscuits, silently offering them to him. He shakes his head and she places them back on the tray. Picking up her own drink she sits, not beside Remus on the settee, but on the wing-back chair opposite him. He doesn’t seem offended. If anything, he looks relieved.
They drink in silence for a moment, until the quiet of the room becomes ridiculous, and Hermione feels compelled to begin the conversation, since its obvious Remus won’t.
“So how have you been?” she asks. It’s a simple and slightly lame question, but what else could she say.
He puts his drink down. “I’ve been alright. Work keeps me fairly occupied.”
“And are you enjoying it?”
He smiled, the first genuine she has seen from him today. “Very much so. Not quite as exciting and dangerous as when I taught you all those years ago, but one can’t expect a trio of troublemakers in every year they teach.”
She smiles back. “No, I suppose not. And how is everyone? The Professors, I mean.”
“They are well. They send you their best. And Minerva has asked me to remind you that there is a teaching position open for you whenever you want it.”
Throughout their conversation, Hermione and Remus had managed to avoid any direct eye contact. But at his mention of the perpetual job offer, their eyes meet properly for the first time.
It was an impossibility only they knew the extent of. While during her early years at school, the idea of teaching, especially at Hogwarts, had appealed to her, now it felt as distant as her childhood wish of being a ballerina or firefighter. She wished she had never mentioned her aspirations to McGonagall during their careers discussion. It was too painful for her now.
“Thank her, will you, for the offer. But let her know I cannot accept, at least not until-“
She cuts her sentence short, not even realising until the words were nearly out of her mouth what she was about to say. She sees the sadness in Remus’ eyes. Feeling guilty for the words that nearly escaped her, she changes the subject.
“And what other news, Remus?”
“I’m afraid I am a boring old man, whose life is his work. I don’t wish to complain; it is such a privilege to be able to return there, to be able to do anything I wish now without having to worry about any kind of discrimination. You have my eternal thanks for that.”
She wants to protest, to say it was not only due to her that the classifications of beasts and half-beasts were revised and updated, that so many others worked and fought by her side, that it was for the greater good of the wizarding world. But to do so would also be slightly disingenuous, for was he not the reason she fought so hard?
“You are very welcome,” she whispers.
He smiles, then asks, “And what about you? We have only been talking about me. How have you been? I hope you are enjoying your sabbatical.”
“I am, thankyou.” There is a pause, in which Remus waits for an elaboration. Instead, Hermione stands and says, “It’s a beautiful day. Would you care to go for a short walk?”
*
Snow was falling. Hermione sat by the window, idly staring at the winter wonderland outside. She was thinking about Harry and Ron, missing them so hard she thought she might burst. Yes, she could send them Owls, and have an occasional Floo conversation. But after being together every day for so long, and then being apart for six months, it was lonely without them by her side.
Her reverie was interrupted by a knock at the door. Remus was standing there, bundled in layers, all rugged up, and holding her coat and scarf.
“Come on,” he said brightly. “Let’s get some air.”
She stood up, smiling. He met her halfway, holding her coat open for her as she slipped her arms into it. She turned back to face him and he placed her scarf around her neck. She looped the scarf around her neck as they walked from the room and stepped out into the crisp air.
They didn’t talk much as they began wandering through the village. Conversation usually flowed thick and fast between them, but today they were both quiet and contemplative. The streets they walked were still and empty, which at least made their silence feel more appropriate than constant chatter.
Hermione adored this sleepy hollow, though she was careful not to venture into it too much, for it often reminded her of Hogsmeade. On no other occasion were the similarities more striking than that day, when the snow-covered buildings reminded Hermione of the pre-Christmas shopping she and her two best friends would partake in. She sighed at the thought of Harry and Ron.
“Are you okay?” Remus asked. He was forever picking up on her change of moods, something she was still not used to.
“Fine,” she replied. “Just missing Harry and Ron.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
There was something in his voice that made Hermione physically stop and think. All this time she had only been so near-sighted as to think about all that she missed. But what about Remus? He was cut off from everyone else too, bound to be by her side until it was safe to return, whether that was in a day or a year.
Remus, just realising that Hermione was no longer by his side, turned around to see her standing there, deep in thought. He looked at her curiously.
“You’ve been cut off from everyone just like me,” Hermione said at last. “What do you miss? Who do you miss the most?”
Remus narrowed the gap between them, returning to her side. “I’m a solitary creature, Hermione. I have long ago lost all the people I considered to be family. All that matters to me is fighting this war, making sure Harry, and all of you, are safe.”
“I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me, Remus. I’m sure you would much rather be out there fighting than babysitting me.”
Remus chuckled. “First of all, you’re an adult Hermione, you hardly need babysitting. Second of all, I’m honoured Harry trusted me to keep you from harm. And lastly, but by no means least, you are an amazing person and I’m happy just to spend time with you.”
Feeling unexpectedly emotional, Hermione breached the gap between them, throwing her arms around him. He returned the hug warmly, hands firm on her back.
“You know,” Hermione whispered into his ear, “being with you, I don’t feel so alone.”
Remus grinned into her hair. “I’m glad.”
They slowly moved back, looking each other in the eyes, hands and arms still around each other. Hermione reached up, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. They smiled at each other before, somehow, there was no longer any space between them, their mouths gently and tentatively touching.
*
Hermione leads him through the house to the back door. She steps through it, hearing him close the door behind him as he follows her through. Viktor is sitting on a swinging seat on the porch; Hermione smiles at him and Remus nods politely as they pass him and head on out. Their property is large, remote, and very beautiful. A creek marks the end of their territory and it is in that direction that Hermione and Remus walk.
“You have a beautiful home,” Remus says, and he means it.
“Thankyou,” Hermione replies, equally earnest.
“How long have you been here?”
“Since we got married. So that’s … about eighteen months.”
They walk in silence for a moment. The sun is warm as it beats down upon their skin.
“I saw your wedding pictures. Harry showed them to me once. You looked so happy.”
There is a wistful quality to his voice that Hermione doesn’t miss. She thinks she can guess his thoughts, but doesn’t want to linger on that path.
“I was. It was a beautiful day.”
He turns to face her as they continue their downhill walk. She is scared about meeting his eyes, but does so anyway.
“I’m very happy for you, Hermione,” he says. And despite was has passed between them, despite the pain and the loss, she absolutely believes him. He always wanted nothing but her happiness, even if it was with another man.
“Thankyou.”
They look away from each other, Hermione taking a deep breath. They continue their conversation sans eye-contact. It’s easier that way.
“This place suits you. What made you choose it?”
She shrugs. “For no particular feature or benefit. I guess it was because, when we first saw it, I felt an immediate, for lack of a better word, kinsmanship with it. Like I knew it was where we could be happiest, where it would be perfect to raise a family.”
Hermione stops herself from continuing. It is too easy to get caught up in the moment, and despite the tension in the air, part of her has regressed to the days when she could tell him anything and everything. But she can’t do that anymore. She can’t tell him things so personal. And she knows, even if she could, he would not want to hear it.
He nods at her answer but says nothing. They continue in silence until they reach the babbling brook at the edge of the Krum property. The water is clear and flows freely. Trees occasionally dot the creek on either side. There is a fallen tree branch by the river, and it is on that that Remus and Hermione sit.
*
With not one wisp of cloud cover, the stars shone brightly. Remus and Hermione lay on the ground in the backyard, a blanket keeping their bodies warm as they stare up into the night sky.
They had begun the evening by pointing out the very few constellations that they both knew. They then found some more using one of Hermione’s ever-present books. But soon they stopped looking for groups of stars, instead just enjoying being together, lying side by side on the cool ground, chatting idly.
“So, tell me,” Remus said, segueing seamlessly from their previous conversations, “what are your plans? When all this is said and done and we go back to normal life, have you thought about what you might like to do?”
“I try not to,” she replied honestly. “Picturing the future always makes me question who will still be around to be in it with me. But I sometimes imagine myself at Hogwarts, teaching. Maybe it’s just because it’s the only part of the wizarding world I know really well. But I won’t deny there is something appealing about the idea of going back there. Teaching people about right and wrong, helping them decide who they want to be.”
“You’d be good at it.”
“Thankyou.” Hermione paused for a moment before turning her head and asking, “What about you?”
Remus chuckled lightly, shifting his body so he lay on his side, facing her. “In an absolutely ideal world, where I could do whatever I wanted, I have to say I agree with you. Hogwarts is the place that means the most to me; it’s where I made the best friends of my life, where for a small amount of time I made a small difference, where I met all of you. I was happy there.”
He reached over, threading his fingers through her hair. She smiled at him, inching her body closer to his. She looked genuinely happy and peaceful, lying there with him under the stars, something that simply amazed him.
“Maybe one day we could work there together,” she said, her voice full of hope and optimism.
He had never felt the way he felt at that particular moment. Unable to communicate what he was feeling, he instead leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Every time he kissed her, he couldn’t help but think that she would pull back, repulsed, yelling things about inappropriate behaviour and monsters. But she never did. She welcomed his touch, his kiss. She wrapped an arm around him, bringing him closer. She opened her mouth to him, deepening the kiss.
Remus had never felt more content than when their skin touched. Whether they were sitting on a couch, holding hands, or making out under the dark sky, there was something about her that made him feel different. For that short amount of time, he felt pure.
He gently rolled her back over, his lips never parting from hers. She moaned into his mouth as he gently settled his body above hers. Her small hand wandered down his back before slipping under his jumper, her fingers cool on his skin. He broke their kiss at this contact, his forehead pressed against hers, frenzied breath escaping both their lips.
Remus’ large hand cupped her face, his thumb idling across her cheek. Even though he couldn’t see her, he could feel her smile. There was something he wanted to say, something he wanted her to know, but he couldn’t quite remember the words, so he kissed her instead, and she responded as if that’s all she’d ever need.
*
Silence reigns once more. Hermione wonders what exactly the point of this visit is. Normal conversation is pointless, yet is seems near impossible for either of them to talk about anything that really matters.
It feels strange, being in his presence. It’s as though she is torn between two worlds, two times. She loves her husband, is incredibly happy with him, but she cannot deny the pull this man has on her. Sitting by his side, she can suddenly remember all the fantasies she had locked away in a distant corner of her mind. She can see in her minds eye the two of them roaming the world together for months on end, learning and laughing and loving, before returning to Hogwarts for another year. It makes her sad, these lost dreams, and she stands and takes a few steps away from him, unable to be in such close proximity to him.
Remus doesn’t question her sudden movement; he just remains on the piece of broken branch as Hermione begins to wander aimlessly in the small space between him and the creek. There are so many things he wants to ask her, facts about her life since he last saw her. He wants to know how she celebrated the end of the war, how she made her way through the Ministry to her current senior position, how she spent her 21st birthday, how she met Viktor again and when she decided to marry him. But he knows he long ago lost all rights to ask her those kinds of questions.
He is startled by how little she has changed. He thinks he should be happy, that he did no permanent damage to her in those few brief months they were together, that she is still the incredible person he knew and loved. But there is also something unsettling in the notion. That because she is so unchanged, he cannot reconcile this Hermione, happily married to the internationally acclaimed Quidditch player, with his Hermione, the one who loved his hands and kissed his lips and wanted to spend forever by his side.
“So,” Hermione says, breaking the long silence at last. Remus looks in her general direction, still unable to meet her eyes. “What else is new? Are you seeing anyone?” She regrets the question as soon as she asks it. Part of her, a large part of her, doesn’t want to know.
The question, so casual and honest, startles him. Her voice was so free and indifferent, like she honestly didn’t care either way if he was seeing someone, because she was happy now, and completely over him.
He shakes his head in reply. Then, slowly standing, he says, “It’s getting late. I should probably go.”
*
Remus woke with a start, just as he had done every morning for the previous week, as though he was expecting a sudden attack or an abrupt change. But just like every other morning, pure white sunshine poured through the window, the house was silent, and Hermione was in his arms.
He looked down at her, still surprised by her presence, even after all this time. There was a serenity to her when she slept, a genuine ease and peace of mind that never crossed her features during her waking hours.
But looking at this amazing creature in his arms, there was a sadness in his soul that he couldn’t quite shake. The part of him that knew that their relationship was wrong, that nothing this good could last, it hummed inside him, as though ready to pounce and bring him down.
He placed a kiss on the crown of her head and gently eased out of her arms, careful not to wake her. Grabbing the nearest clothes, he got dressed and headed downstairs.
He moved effortlessly around the kitchen, preparing some breakfast for them. It was a beautiful spring morning, maybe they would eat on the patio.
There was a knock on the door, startling Remus. During the nine months they had kept up residence in this cottage they had only two visitors, their muggle neighbours. But surely no one would call at - he checked his watch - eight-thirty in the morning.
Opening the door, he was beyond stunned to see Bill Weasley standing there. Bill was grinning, and didn’t even wait to be asked inside before he started explaining that it was all over, Voldemort was gone and it was safe for them to return. Remus heard the words, nodding in all the right places and attempting to smile, but something was wrong. He was relieved and happy, of course he was, but somehow all he could think about was that they would be going home and he and Hermione would be going their separate ways. It was an inevitability he had only just realised. They weren’t meant to last.
When Bill finally finished talking, Remus smiled, hugging his friend in an attempt to convey a happiness he didn’t entirely feel. He told Bill that he and Hermione would pack everything up and join Harry and the Weasleys at the Burrow before nightfall. Bill nodded and smiled, saying he would see them both tonight, and that he was off to spread the good news. He didn’t see the sadness in Remus’ eyes when the door was closed between them.
Remus sat at the kitchen table, the breakfast forgotten. He stared into space as he waited for Hermione to get up, the decision already made.
When Hermione walked into the kitchen wearing one of his t-shirts, his heart broke. But he had to do this.
She noticed his demeanour, but before she could ask what was wrong, he told her about Bill’s visit, that Harry was victorious.
“So pack up your stuff, we’ll go meet everyone, and you can go back to your old life.”
The smile that had brightened her face upon hearing this news suddenly vanished. She was smart enough to catch on.
“My old life?” she queried.
He nodded. “It will be as if the last year never happened.”
She knew what she was hearing but couldn’t quite believe that he was saying it. And if he truly meant what she knew he meant, why couldn’t he just say the words?
“Including you and me.” It was a statement, not a question.
“That’s right,” his voice was firm, absolute.
She couldn’t believe this was happening. How was it possible to go from being so elated to being so shocked and sad within seconds? She couldn’t understand why he was doing this. Did he think she cared what everyone else thought? Or that this was just some version of a holiday romance? Or did he really just not care for her?
“Why?” her voice croaked out. The question seemed so not enough for what she was asking. One word didn’t seem fitting for the questions she needed answers for. But it was all she had.
“Because we are not meant for this.”
The answer confused her on so many levels. But before she could ask for clarification, he turned and started walking away. Knowing she was losing him, she said the only truth she knew could change his mind.
“I love you, Remus,” she whispered.
He stopped at the sound of her voice. Unable to quite believe his ears, Remus slowly turned.
“Don’t you understand?” she said desperately, taking a few steps towards him. “I love you. I’d marry you tomorrow if you only asked. I would do anything for you. Remus, tell me what to do for you.”
Remus took a deep breath, fighting his watering eyes. It hurt him so much to see her standing there like that, baring her soul for him, offering him her world when he knew he could not accept.
“The only thing I want you to do is forget everything that has happened between us.” His voice was a gentle whisper, but his words were like a slap in the face.
When he turned and walked away again, she didn’t try and stop him.
*
They walk side by side, back up to the house. Both lost in their own thoughts, it isn’t long before they have ascended the hill and made it back to the house. Viktor is still on the patio, and Remus shakes his hand, pretending not to notice the confused look he gives his wife at this sudden departure.
Remus and Hermione walk back through the house and into the front yard. She accompanies him to the gate, stepping outside the anti-apparition wards.
They stand awkwardly for a few minutes. The brief visit seems stupid and unnecessary as they stand together. Nothing has changed, nothing has been said, nothing has healed as a result of this hour in each others presence. What was the point?
“Well,” Remus says at last. “It was nice to see you again, Hermione.”
She looks up at him at this. What a ridiculous thing to say. It wasn’t nice. It was awkward and tense and confusing. But she knows he is keeping up this illusion and, unable to break the façade they have carefully made, she nods.
Her hands are resting on the wooden fence and he slowly lifts his hand, giving her a chance to move away, and when she doesn’t, he carefully places his hand over hers. His touch is so familiar, a reminder of a life lived long ago, and her heart thuds in her chest. But before she can get used to it, his hand is gone.
“Goodbye, Hermione,” he whispers, before turning to walk away.
But his touch has emboldened her. She needs to know. She knows now that this is the reason he came, and she reaches out and grasps his arm, stopping him. He turns, his face a mask of pain, for he too knows that, for better or worse, what is about to happen is the reason for the previous hour.
“Why?”
A sense of déjà vu hits them both at Hermione’s strangled question. But Remus pushes pass the horrible feeling, knowing there are so many things that need to be said. But instead of all the excuses and rationalisations and regrets, he says the single, most important thing, even knowing it is probably better left unsaid. He raises his eyes to meet hers, really seeing her for the first time today.
“No words can convey how much I loved you. Love you still. Obviously if I knew then what I know now I would have done things differently. But I couldn’t quite accept it; believe that something that good was meant for me.” He pauses for a moment, gathering the courage to say, “I thought it was a dream, what we had for those few brief months. It's the only truth.”
Hermione blinks, two tears streaming down her cheeks. Whatever she had anticipated, it wasn’t that. She feels numb. Her eyes stare into his, and he looks sad, apologetic. He lifts his hand, as though to wipe away her tears, but stops himself before his skin makes contact with hers.
She sees him take a deep breath, give her a small nod, and walk away. She watches his retreating form for a few moments, and for a split second, she wants to go after him. To touch him and kiss him and reclaim the life they lost. But the moment passes almost as soon as it arrived, because she knows she could never leave her husband, the man she loves and was meant to be with. She watches Remus walk away and then he disappears, apparating away. She knows it is the last time she will ever see him. More tears fall down her cheeks.
Hermione takes a few moments, trying to collect herself, stop her head from spinning. She wipes her cheeks as she heads back inside.
She sees Viktor waiting for her in the lounge. He is smarter than most people give him credit for, and he knows there is something that Hermione hasn’t told him about this visit, this friend. Seeing him there, this man who knows her so well, who loves her madly, whom she is head over heels for, she feels an enormous sense of relief. She goes into his open arms; his body is warm and as she feels his strong heartbeat beneath his chest, she smiles. This is how it should be.
Ships: Remus/Hermione (with some Viktor/Hermione)
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Say it with me now ~ me ... don't ... own. Inspired by a line from The New World.
Summary: Four years after saying goodbye, Remus and Hermione meet once more.
Authors Notes: Okay, so my summary sucks, but I really struggled to write a summary for this fic, and I think once you read it you'll understand why. Anyway, I love how this fic turned out, and I hope you do too. Enjoy!
The Only Truth
There is a knock on the door, not unexpected but still surprising. Hermione places the cup and saucer that she holds in her lap onto the nearby coffee table and slowly stands. She smiles at her husband as she passes him where he sits on the settee, silently reading. She forces the smile to be big and bright, the look of someone who is excited to be meeting with a friend for the first time in over four years, when in truth, her feelings are much more complicated than that.
Hermione pauses a moment by the door, taking in a large lungful of air, needing to calm and centre herself. When she is as ready as she will ever be, she slowly opens the door.
The intervening years have done little to age him. Maybe it is because he was already prematurely aged. Perhaps it is because he had at last found whatever it was he was searching for. Whatever the reason, it is shocking to see him standing there, looking the same as he did the last time she saw him.
He smiles at her, warmly but uncertainly, and she realises that she has been staring. She quickly recovers, standing aside and letting him in. They silently walk into the sitting room, where Viktor stands to greet them.
“Viktor, this is Remus Lupin, an old friend. Remus, my husband, Viktor Krum.”
The two men shake hands. Viktor soon excuses himself, leaving the two old friends alone to catch up. He kisses Hermione’s cheek on his way out, and Hermione pretends not to notice Remus look away, seemingly unable to watch this small point of affection.
When they are alone, the nerves came back. Hermione has no idea what to say, where to start. So she says the first thing she thinks of. “Tea?”
Remus smiles, nodding. “Please.”
“Have a seat. I’ll be back in a moment.”
She slides into the kitchen, automatically moving about the room, preparing a drink for Remus and a fresh one for herself. Only when the water is boiling and she has nothing to occupy her mind does she lean back against the bench, her arms wrapped around her midsection, feeling as though everything has just been turned upside down.
“Hot chocolate?” Remus asked.
Hermione looked up from her book. He stood in the doorway, two steaming mugs in his hands. She nodded, thankful. He moved gracefully into the room, joining her on the couch and handing one of the drinks over.
“Thankyou,” she said, lifting the mug to her lips and gently blowing on the liquid.
“You are very welcome.” He took a sip of his own drink. “Any progress?”
She shook her head, frustrated. “It’s like it’s right on the tip of my mind, you know. I’m so close, but there is something missing, something small but vital, that will make everything fall into place.”
This wasn’t the first time he had seen her like this. But he had to concede her frustration was usually warranted, that she genuinely was close to a breakthrough, however small, and that she wouldn’t relax until she had gotten there.
He didn’t want this for her. She deserved better. But there really was no other option. With the amount of muggle-born wizards and witches disappearing daily, it just wasn’t safe for Hermione in the wizarding world anymore. She didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to run away instead of staying and fighting. It was Harry who convinced her at last to go, breaking down and admitting that the loss of her would be something beyond his abilities to deal with and please would she just stay safe for him. At last she finally relented. Harry pointing out that she could still be of enormous use to them by researching all she could definitely helped to smooth the process.
And so here they were, four months later in a small-town cottage, Remus by Hermione’s side as her protector in case any Death Eater decided to scour the muggle world for Harry’s best friend.
“You’ll get there, Hermione,” he replied, his voice a greater comfort than he realised. “You always do.”
He laid his hand comfortingly on hers, surprised when she gripped onto it. They sat silently for a few minutes, music from the wireless drifting through the space between them. When Hermione was finally ready she met Remus’ eyes and nodded. He smiled at her, lifting her hand to his lips and brushing a kiss over knuckles before standing and leaving the room.
She walks into the room carrying a tray. She sets it down on a table, then hands him his drink. Their fingers momentarily brush, and for a fleeting second their eyes meet. She almost drops the cup in her haste to remove herself from his touch. She lifts up a plate of biscuits, silently offering them to him. He shakes his head and she places them back on the tray. Picking up her own drink she sits, not beside Remus on the settee, but on the wing-back chair opposite him. He doesn’t seem offended. If anything, he looks relieved.
They drink in silence for a moment, until the quiet of the room becomes ridiculous, and Hermione feels compelled to begin the conversation, since its obvious Remus won’t.
“So how have you been?” she asks. It’s a simple and slightly lame question, but what else could she say.
He puts his drink down. “I’ve been alright. Work keeps me fairly occupied.”
“And are you enjoying it?”
He smiled, the first genuine she has seen from him today. “Very much so. Not quite as exciting and dangerous as when I taught you all those years ago, but one can’t expect a trio of troublemakers in every year they teach.”
She smiles back. “No, I suppose not. And how is everyone? The Professors, I mean.”
“They are well. They send you their best. And Minerva has asked me to remind you that there is a teaching position open for you whenever you want it.”
Throughout their conversation, Hermione and Remus had managed to avoid any direct eye contact. But at his mention of the perpetual job offer, their eyes meet properly for the first time.
It was an impossibility only they knew the extent of. While during her early years at school, the idea of teaching, especially at Hogwarts, had appealed to her, now it felt as distant as her childhood wish of being a ballerina or firefighter. She wished she had never mentioned her aspirations to McGonagall during their careers discussion. It was too painful for her now.
“Thank her, will you, for the offer. But let her know I cannot accept, at least not until-“
She cuts her sentence short, not even realising until the words were nearly out of her mouth what she was about to say. She sees the sadness in Remus’ eyes. Feeling guilty for the words that nearly escaped her, she changes the subject.
“And what other news, Remus?”
“I’m afraid I am a boring old man, whose life is his work. I don’t wish to complain; it is such a privilege to be able to return there, to be able to do anything I wish now without having to worry about any kind of discrimination. You have my eternal thanks for that.”
She wants to protest, to say it was not only due to her that the classifications of beasts and half-beasts were revised and updated, that so many others worked and fought by her side, that it was for the greater good of the wizarding world. But to do so would also be slightly disingenuous, for was he not the reason she fought so hard?
“You are very welcome,” she whispers.
He smiles, then asks, “And what about you? We have only been talking about me. How have you been? I hope you are enjoying your sabbatical.”
“I am, thankyou.” There is a pause, in which Remus waits for an elaboration. Instead, Hermione stands and says, “It’s a beautiful day. Would you care to go for a short walk?”
Snow was falling. Hermione sat by the window, idly staring at the winter wonderland outside. She was thinking about Harry and Ron, missing them so hard she thought she might burst. Yes, she could send them Owls, and have an occasional Floo conversation. But after being together every day for so long, and then being apart for six months, it was lonely without them by her side.
Her reverie was interrupted by a knock at the door. Remus was standing there, bundled in layers, all rugged up, and holding her coat and scarf.
“Come on,” he said brightly. “Let’s get some air.”
She stood up, smiling. He met her halfway, holding her coat open for her as she slipped her arms into it. She turned back to face him and he placed her scarf around her neck. She looped the scarf around her neck as they walked from the room and stepped out into the crisp air.
They didn’t talk much as they began wandering through the village. Conversation usually flowed thick and fast between them, but today they were both quiet and contemplative. The streets they walked were still and empty, which at least made their silence feel more appropriate than constant chatter.
Hermione adored this sleepy hollow, though she was careful not to venture into it too much, for it often reminded her of Hogsmeade. On no other occasion were the similarities more striking than that day, when the snow-covered buildings reminded Hermione of the pre-Christmas shopping she and her two best friends would partake in. She sighed at the thought of Harry and Ron.
“Are you okay?” Remus asked. He was forever picking up on her change of moods, something she was still not used to.
“Fine,” she replied. “Just missing Harry and Ron.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
There was something in his voice that made Hermione physically stop and think. All this time she had only been so near-sighted as to think about all that she missed. But what about Remus? He was cut off from everyone else too, bound to be by her side until it was safe to return, whether that was in a day or a year.
Remus, just realising that Hermione was no longer by his side, turned around to see her standing there, deep in thought. He looked at her curiously.
“You’ve been cut off from everyone just like me,” Hermione said at last. “What do you miss? Who do you miss the most?”
Remus narrowed the gap between them, returning to her side. “I’m a solitary creature, Hermione. I have long ago lost all the people I considered to be family. All that matters to me is fighting this war, making sure Harry, and all of you, are safe.”
“I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me, Remus. I’m sure you would much rather be out there fighting than babysitting me.”
Remus chuckled. “First of all, you’re an adult Hermione, you hardly need babysitting. Second of all, I’m honoured Harry trusted me to keep you from harm. And lastly, but by no means least, you are an amazing person and I’m happy just to spend time with you.”
Feeling unexpectedly emotional, Hermione breached the gap between them, throwing her arms around him. He returned the hug warmly, hands firm on her back.
“You know,” Hermione whispered into his ear, “being with you, I don’t feel so alone.”
Remus grinned into her hair. “I’m glad.”
They slowly moved back, looking each other in the eyes, hands and arms still around each other. Hermione reached up, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. They smiled at each other before, somehow, there was no longer any space between them, their mouths gently and tentatively touching.
Hermione leads him through the house to the back door. She steps through it, hearing him close the door behind him as he follows her through. Viktor is sitting on a swinging seat on the porch; Hermione smiles at him and Remus nods politely as they pass him and head on out. Their property is large, remote, and very beautiful. A creek marks the end of their territory and it is in that direction that Hermione and Remus walk.
“You have a beautiful home,” Remus says, and he means it.
“Thankyou,” Hermione replies, equally earnest.
“How long have you been here?”
“Since we got married. So that’s … about eighteen months.”
They walk in silence for a moment. The sun is warm as it beats down upon their skin.
“I saw your wedding pictures. Harry showed them to me once. You looked so happy.”
There is a wistful quality to his voice that Hermione doesn’t miss. She thinks she can guess his thoughts, but doesn’t want to linger on that path.
“I was. It was a beautiful day.”
He turns to face her as they continue their downhill walk. She is scared about meeting his eyes, but does so anyway.
“I’m very happy for you, Hermione,” he says. And despite was has passed between them, despite the pain and the loss, she absolutely believes him. He always wanted nothing but her happiness, even if it was with another man.
“Thankyou.”
They look away from each other, Hermione taking a deep breath. They continue their conversation sans eye-contact. It’s easier that way.
“This place suits you. What made you choose it?”
She shrugs. “For no particular feature or benefit. I guess it was because, when we first saw it, I felt an immediate, for lack of a better word, kinsmanship with it. Like I knew it was where we could be happiest, where it would be perfect to raise a family.”
Hermione stops herself from continuing. It is too easy to get caught up in the moment, and despite the tension in the air, part of her has regressed to the days when she could tell him anything and everything. But she can’t do that anymore. She can’t tell him things so personal. And she knows, even if she could, he would not want to hear it.
He nods at her answer but says nothing. They continue in silence until they reach the babbling brook at the edge of the Krum property. The water is clear and flows freely. Trees occasionally dot the creek on either side. There is a fallen tree branch by the river, and it is on that that Remus and Hermione sit.
With not one wisp of cloud cover, the stars shone brightly. Remus and Hermione lay on the ground in the backyard, a blanket keeping their bodies warm as they stare up into the night sky.
They had begun the evening by pointing out the very few constellations that they both knew. They then found some more using one of Hermione’s ever-present books. But soon they stopped looking for groups of stars, instead just enjoying being together, lying side by side on the cool ground, chatting idly.
“So, tell me,” Remus said, segueing seamlessly from their previous conversations, “what are your plans? When all this is said and done and we go back to normal life, have you thought about what you might like to do?”
“I try not to,” she replied honestly. “Picturing the future always makes me question who will still be around to be in it with me. But I sometimes imagine myself at Hogwarts, teaching. Maybe it’s just because it’s the only part of the wizarding world I know really well. But I won’t deny there is something appealing about the idea of going back there. Teaching people about right and wrong, helping them decide who they want to be.”
“You’d be good at it.”
“Thankyou.” Hermione paused for a moment before turning her head and asking, “What about you?”
Remus chuckled lightly, shifting his body so he lay on his side, facing her. “In an absolutely ideal world, where I could do whatever I wanted, I have to say I agree with you. Hogwarts is the place that means the most to me; it’s where I made the best friends of my life, where for a small amount of time I made a small difference, where I met all of you. I was happy there.”
He reached over, threading his fingers through her hair. She smiled at him, inching her body closer to his. She looked genuinely happy and peaceful, lying there with him under the stars, something that simply amazed him.
“Maybe one day we could work there together,” she said, her voice full of hope and optimism.
He had never felt the way he felt at that particular moment. Unable to communicate what he was feeling, he instead leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Every time he kissed her, he couldn’t help but think that she would pull back, repulsed, yelling things about inappropriate behaviour and monsters. But she never did. She welcomed his touch, his kiss. She wrapped an arm around him, bringing him closer. She opened her mouth to him, deepening the kiss.
Remus had never felt more content than when their skin touched. Whether they were sitting on a couch, holding hands, or making out under the dark sky, there was something about her that made him feel different. For that short amount of time, he felt pure.
He gently rolled her back over, his lips never parting from hers. She moaned into his mouth as he gently settled his body above hers. Her small hand wandered down his back before slipping under his jumper, her fingers cool on his skin. He broke their kiss at this contact, his forehead pressed against hers, frenzied breath escaping both their lips.
Remus’ large hand cupped her face, his thumb idling across her cheek. Even though he couldn’t see her, he could feel her smile. There was something he wanted to say, something he wanted her to know, but he couldn’t quite remember the words, so he kissed her instead, and she responded as if that’s all she’d ever need.
Silence reigns once more. Hermione wonders what exactly the point of this visit is. Normal conversation is pointless, yet is seems near impossible for either of them to talk about anything that really matters.
It feels strange, being in his presence. It’s as though she is torn between two worlds, two times. She loves her husband, is incredibly happy with him, but she cannot deny the pull this man has on her. Sitting by his side, she can suddenly remember all the fantasies she had locked away in a distant corner of her mind. She can see in her minds eye the two of them roaming the world together for months on end, learning and laughing and loving, before returning to Hogwarts for another year. It makes her sad, these lost dreams, and she stands and takes a few steps away from him, unable to be in such close proximity to him.
Remus doesn’t question her sudden movement; he just remains on the piece of broken branch as Hermione begins to wander aimlessly in the small space between him and the creek. There are so many things he wants to ask her, facts about her life since he last saw her. He wants to know how she celebrated the end of the war, how she made her way through the Ministry to her current senior position, how she spent her 21st birthday, how she met Viktor again and when she decided to marry him. But he knows he long ago lost all rights to ask her those kinds of questions.
He is startled by how little she has changed. He thinks he should be happy, that he did no permanent damage to her in those few brief months they were together, that she is still the incredible person he knew and loved. But there is also something unsettling in the notion. That because she is so unchanged, he cannot reconcile this Hermione, happily married to the internationally acclaimed Quidditch player, with his Hermione, the one who loved his hands and kissed his lips and wanted to spend forever by his side.
“So,” Hermione says, breaking the long silence at last. Remus looks in her general direction, still unable to meet her eyes. “What else is new? Are you seeing anyone?” She regrets the question as soon as she asks it. Part of her, a large part of her, doesn’t want to know.
The question, so casual and honest, startles him. Her voice was so free and indifferent, like she honestly didn’t care either way if he was seeing someone, because she was happy now, and completely over him.
He shakes his head in reply. Then, slowly standing, he says, “It’s getting late. I should probably go.”
Remus woke with a start, just as he had done every morning for the previous week, as though he was expecting a sudden attack or an abrupt change. But just like every other morning, pure white sunshine poured through the window, the house was silent, and Hermione was in his arms.
He looked down at her, still surprised by her presence, even after all this time. There was a serenity to her when she slept, a genuine ease and peace of mind that never crossed her features during her waking hours.
But looking at this amazing creature in his arms, there was a sadness in his soul that he couldn’t quite shake. The part of him that knew that their relationship was wrong, that nothing this good could last, it hummed inside him, as though ready to pounce and bring him down.
He placed a kiss on the crown of her head and gently eased out of her arms, careful not to wake her. Grabbing the nearest clothes, he got dressed and headed downstairs.
He moved effortlessly around the kitchen, preparing some breakfast for them. It was a beautiful spring morning, maybe they would eat on the patio.
There was a knock on the door, startling Remus. During the nine months they had kept up residence in this cottage they had only two visitors, their muggle neighbours. But surely no one would call at - he checked his watch - eight-thirty in the morning.
Opening the door, he was beyond stunned to see Bill Weasley standing there. Bill was grinning, and didn’t even wait to be asked inside before he started explaining that it was all over, Voldemort was gone and it was safe for them to return. Remus heard the words, nodding in all the right places and attempting to smile, but something was wrong. He was relieved and happy, of course he was, but somehow all he could think about was that they would be going home and he and Hermione would be going their separate ways. It was an inevitability he had only just realised. They weren’t meant to last.
When Bill finally finished talking, Remus smiled, hugging his friend in an attempt to convey a happiness he didn’t entirely feel. He told Bill that he and Hermione would pack everything up and join Harry and the Weasleys at the Burrow before nightfall. Bill nodded and smiled, saying he would see them both tonight, and that he was off to spread the good news. He didn’t see the sadness in Remus’ eyes when the door was closed between them.
Remus sat at the kitchen table, the breakfast forgotten. He stared into space as he waited for Hermione to get up, the decision already made.
When Hermione walked into the kitchen wearing one of his t-shirts, his heart broke. But he had to do this.
She noticed his demeanour, but before she could ask what was wrong, he told her about Bill’s visit, that Harry was victorious.
“So pack up your stuff, we’ll go meet everyone, and you can go back to your old life.”
The smile that had brightened her face upon hearing this news suddenly vanished. She was smart enough to catch on.
“My old life?” she queried.
He nodded. “It will be as if the last year never happened.”
She knew what she was hearing but couldn’t quite believe that he was saying it. And if he truly meant what she knew he meant, why couldn’t he just say the words?
“Including you and me.” It was a statement, not a question.
“That’s right,” his voice was firm, absolute.
She couldn’t believe this was happening. How was it possible to go from being so elated to being so shocked and sad within seconds? She couldn’t understand why he was doing this. Did he think she cared what everyone else thought? Or that this was just some version of a holiday romance? Or did he really just not care for her?
“Why?” her voice croaked out. The question seemed so not enough for what she was asking. One word didn’t seem fitting for the questions she needed answers for. But it was all she had.
“Because we are not meant for this.”
The answer confused her on so many levels. But before she could ask for clarification, he turned and started walking away. Knowing she was losing him, she said the only truth she knew could change his mind.
“I love you, Remus,” she whispered.
He stopped at the sound of her voice. Unable to quite believe his ears, Remus slowly turned.
“Don’t you understand?” she said desperately, taking a few steps towards him. “I love you. I’d marry you tomorrow if you only asked. I would do anything for you. Remus, tell me what to do for you.”
Remus took a deep breath, fighting his watering eyes. It hurt him so much to see her standing there like that, baring her soul for him, offering him her world when he knew he could not accept.
“The only thing I want you to do is forget everything that has happened between us.” His voice was a gentle whisper, but his words were like a slap in the face.
When he turned and walked away again, she didn’t try and stop him.
They walk side by side, back up to the house. Both lost in their own thoughts, it isn’t long before they have ascended the hill and made it back to the house. Viktor is still on the patio, and Remus shakes his hand, pretending not to notice the confused look he gives his wife at this sudden departure.
Remus and Hermione walk back through the house and into the front yard. She accompanies him to the gate, stepping outside the anti-apparition wards.
They stand awkwardly for a few minutes. The brief visit seems stupid and unnecessary as they stand together. Nothing has changed, nothing has been said, nothing has healed as a result of this hour in each others presence. What was the point?
“Well,” Remus says at last. “It was nice to see you again, Hermione.”
She looks up at him at this. What a ridiculous thing to say. It wasn’t nice. It was awkward and tense and confusing. But she knows he is keeping up this illusion and, unable to break the façade they have carefully made, she nods.
Her hands are resting on the wooden fence and he slowly lifts his hand, giving her a chance to move away, and when she doesn’t, he carefully places his hand over hers. His touch is so familiar, a reminder of a life lived long ago, and her heart thuds in her chest. But before she can get used to it, his hand is gone.
“Goodbye, Hermione,” he whispers, before turning to walk away.
But his touch has emboldened her. She needs to know. She knows now that this is the reason he came, and she reaches out and grasps his arm, stopping him. He turns, his face a mask of pain, for he too knows that, for better or worse, what is about to happen is the reason for the previous hour.
“Why?”
A sense of déjà vu hits them both at Hermione’s strangled question. But Remus pushes pass the horrible feeling, knowing there are so many things that need to be said. But instead of all the excuses and rationalisations and regrets, he says the single, most important thing, even knowing it is probably better left unsaid. He raises his eyes to meet hers, really seeing her for the first time today.
“No words can convey how much I loved you. Love you still. Obviously if I knew then what I know now I would have done things differently. But I couldn’t quite accept it; believe that something that good was meant for me.” He pauses for a moment, gathering the courage to say, “I thought it was a dream, what we had for those few brief months. It's the only truth.”
Hermione blinks, two tears streaming down her cheeks. Whatever she had anticipated, it wasn’t that. She feels numb. Her eyes stare into his, and he looks sad, apologetic. He lifts his hand, as though to wipe away her tears, but stops himself before his skin makes contact with hers.
She sees him take a deep breath, give her a small nod, and walk away. She watches his retreating form for a few moments, and for a split second, she wants to go after him. To touch him and kiss him and reclaim the life they lost. But the moment passes almost as soon as it arrived, because she knows she could never leave her husband, the man she loves and was meant to be with. She watches Remus walk away and then he disappears, apparating away. She knows it is the last time she will ever see him. More tears fall down her cheeks.
Hermione takes a few moments, trying to collect herself, stop her head from spinning. She wipes her cheeks as she heads back inside.
She sees Viktor waiting for her in the lounge. He is smarter than most people give him credit for, and he knows there is something that Hermione hasn’t told him about this visit, this friend. Seeing him there, this man who knows her so well, who loves her madly, whom she is head over heels for, she feels an enormous sense of relief. She goes into his open arms; his body is warm and as she feels his strong heartbeat beneath his chest, she smiles. This is how it should be.
