Waiting for the Day
Jun. 29th, 2006 09:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tattooedsirenTitle: Waiting for the Day
Ships: Remus/Hermione
Rating: PG
Spoilers: PoA
Disclaimer: Say it with me now ~ me ... don't ... own.
Summary: Remus Lupin was a man in love.
Authors Notes: The last scene of this fic was written for Snapshots but I couldnt get it down to one sentence without it sounding stupid. So I expanded it into this fic.
Waiting for the Day
Remus sat on the back porch, stretching his legs in front of him, his fingers warmed by the steaming mug of hot chocolate in his hands. He took a deep breath, gazing at the misty pre-dawn light.
He couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t been able to sleep through the night for a week now. Ever since the long forgotten moment from so many years ago resurfaced in his mind and, like the last piece of a puzzle, made everything more clearer. More complicated.
Remus Lupin was a man in love. The onset of these feelings was so slow and steady he barely noticed them, until one day, with a simple touch of her hand, he realised what had happened. He had fallen in love with Hermione Granger.
So that was fine. He realised the truth and he could deal with it. He loved her and there was no way she could ever love him back. He could just be her friend and he was happy with that. Months passed in this manner, Remus content with the situation. He was fine with it. Until a week ago.
The four of them, Remus, Hermione, Harry and Ron, had been having dinner. They had somehow ended up reminiscing about the year that Remus taught them at school. Remus was clearing away the plates when Harry asked Hermione exactly when it was she had figured out that Remus was a werewolf. But her reply was cut off by the sound of crockery crashing on the floor. Remus just stood there, broken plates and food at his feet, staring at the three young adults at the table.
Hermione was instantly on her feet, asking Remus if he was okay, cleaning the mess at his feet with a wave of her wand. He made no reply, just stood there stoically. Hermione’s voice was insistent, worried, as she asked again what was wrong. Remus finally snapped out of his reverie, apologised and said that he was fine. But the truth was, for the first time in months, he wasn’t fine, because he remembered.
He excused himself and rushed upstairs, oblivious to the concerned and confused stares of his three housemates. He ran into his room and closed the door behind him, his heart beating a wild tattoo in his chest.
Oh God, he breathed. How was it possible he had forgotten about this? True, he had thought it ridiculous and impossible at the time, but still.
He remembered now, as clear as though it happened yesterday, when, as a young man, just after the deaths of James and Lily, he had been to visit a Seer. This Seer told him that he had a secret, one which forbade him from getting close to anyone. But that one day, someone would come along who would figure out and accept this secret without him having to tell them. And that this person, this woman, would be his soul mate.
Remus shakily made his way to his bed and sat down. Hermione. Soul mate. Could it really be true?
Ever since that revelation, that final piece of the puzzle a week ago, sleep had been elusive. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head, that there was a reason a thirteen year old Hermione worked out his secret, and keep it, when trained Auror Tonks had to be told by Sirius the truth about his condition. Because what the Seer had said all those years ago, it had given him leave to hope.
The one reason he had been so easy to accept the truth about his feelings for Hermione was because he knew absolutely nothing could come of it. There was a safety and a comfort in that. But now, now he doubted that and wondered if they could ever be. His time with her had become deliciously torturous, and his nights had become agonisingly long. He couldn’t help but hope and pray for her to feel the same way he did, anticipating the day when they could be together.
So every morning for the past week, just like this one, he got up before the sun, went outside and watched the sun rise for a new day. Only today, he had company.
"Remus?" came the small voice of Hermione from the doorway behind him.
Remus turned slowly to see Hermione standing there in her pjs, leaning on the doorframe, a cup of steaming coffee in her hand.
"What are you doing up so early?" she asked, stepping forward and sitting on the step beside him.
"I'm just waiting," he said before turning his attention away from her.
"For what?"
Remus turned back to her face. Her young, beautiful, inquisitive face. "I'm waiting for the day."
Hermione looked out to the sunrise. "It will be here soon."
Remus smiled, still looking at Hermione as he replied, "I hope so.”
Ships: Remus/Hermione
Rating: PG
Spoilers: PoA
Disclaimer: Say it with me now ~ me ... don't ... own.
Summary: Remus Lupin was a man in love.
Authors Notes: The last scene of this fic was written for Snapshots but I couldnt get it down to one sentence without it sounding stupid. So I expanded it into this fic.
Waiting for the Day
Remus sat on the back porch, stretching his legs in front of him, his fingers warmed by the steaming mug of hot chocolate in his hands. He took a deep breath, gazing at the misty pre-dawn light.
He couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t been able to sleep through the night for a week now. Ever since the long forgotten moment from so many years ago resurfaced in his mind and, like the last piece of a puzzle, made everything more clearer. More complicated.
Remus Lupin was a man in love. The onset of these feelings was so slow and steady he barely noticed them, until one day, with a simple touch of her hand, he realised what had happened. He had fallen in love with Hermione Granger.
So that was fine. He realised the truth and he could deal with it. He loved her and there was no way she could ever love him back. He could just be her friend and he was happy with that. Months passed in this manner, Remus content with the situation. He was fine with it. Until a week ago.
The four of them, Remus, Hermione, Harry and Ron, had been having dinner. They had somehow ended up reminiscing about the year that Remus taught them at school. Remus was clearing away the plates when Harry asked Hermione exactly when it was she had figured out that Remus was a werewolf. But her reply was cut off by the sound of crockery crashing on the floor. Remus just stood there, broken plates and food at his feet, staring at the three young adults at the table.
Hermione was instantly on her feet, asking Remus if he was okay, cleaning the mess at his feet with a wave of her wand. He made no reply, just stood there stoically. Hermione’s voice was insistent, worried, as she asked again what was wrong. Remus finally snapped out of his reverie, apologised and said that he was fine. But the truth was, for the first time in months, he wasn’t fine, because he remembered.
He excused himself and rushed upstairs, oblivious to the concerned and confused stares of his three housemates. He ran into his room and closed the door behind him, his heart beating a wild tattoo in his chest.
Oh God, he breathed. How was it possible he had forgotten about this? True, he had thought it ridiculous and impossible at the time, but still.
He remembered now, as clear as though it happened yesterday, when, as a young man, just after the deaths of James and Lily, he had been to visit a Seer. This Seer told him that he had a secret, one which forbade him from getting close to anyone. But that one day, someone would come along who would figure out and accept this secret without him having to tell them. And that this person, this woman, would be his soul mate.
Remus shakily made his way to his bed and sat down. Hermione. Soul mate. Could it really be true?
Ever since that revelation, that final piece of the puzzle a week ago, sleep had been elusive. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head, that there was a reason a thirteen year old Hermione worked out his secret, and keep it, when trained Auror Tonks had to be told by Sirius the truth about his condition. Because what the Seer had said all those years ago, it had given him leave to hope.
The one reason he had been so easy to accept the truth about his feelings for Hermione was because he knew absolutely nothing could come of it. There was a safety and a comfort in that. But now, now he doubted that and wondered if they could ever be. His time with her had become deliciously torturous, and his nights had become agonisingly long. He couldn’t help but hope and pray for her to feel the same way he did, anticipating the day when they could be together.
So every morning for the past week, just like this one, he got up before the sun, went outside and watched the sun rise for a new day. Only today, he had company.
"Remus?" came the small voice of Hermione from the doorway behind him.
Remus turned slowly to see Hermione standing there in her pjs, leaning on the doorframe, a cup of steaming coffee in her hand.
"What are you doing up so early?" she asked, stepping forward and sitting on the step beside him.
"I'm just waiting," he said before turning his attention away from her.
"For what?"
Remus turned back to her face. Her young, beautiful, inquisitive face. "I'm waiting for the day."
Hermione looked out to the sunrise. "It will be here soon."
Remus smiled, still looking at Hermione as he replied, "I hope so.”
