![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tattooedsirenTitle: Salvation
Ships: Remus/Hermione
Rating: Adult
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Say it with me now ~ me ... don't ... own.
Summary: She had been kidnapped by their enemy and then turned by her mentor and was now having to leave two people who were essentially her family and she was yet to even cry about anything that had happened to her.
Authors Notes: Okay, so this story came from the very random prompt![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alexi_lupin gave me for the November drabbles. Through a train of thought I went from that prompt to this fic. It could never been done in a drabble sized piece of writing - instead morphing into this 7000+ words fic. I am actually really really proud of this and I hope everyone likes it. But just look at the rating first - it's rated adult for a reason folks.
Enjoy!
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
50_smutlets prompt: Biting
hpfanfic10x10 prompt: Regret
Salvation
It was, quite literally, the worst moment of Remus’ life.
He thought he had hit rock bottom before. Receiving The Bite at such a young age. The deaths of James and Lily and believing Sirius responsible. Sirius’ death after being back for only two years.
All these moments paled in comparison to the depths he sunk to that day.
He awoke from the transformation and even before opening his eyes he knew something was tragically wrong. He could feel it in the heavy beating of his heart and the fog of his brain. He didn’t want to open his eyes, especially after hearing the ragged breath of someone nearby.
At last his heavy eyelids lifted. His vision was blurry as he gingerly raised himself off the cold floor of his cell. He turned his head and his eyes fell on the source of the uneven breathing that had been assaulting his ears.
It was Hermione. She was lying on the floor, her clothes shredded and covered in blood.
Remus couldn’t move. He lay there, paralysed, not wanting to see this but unable to turn away. Her limbs were slack and her eyes were closed. She was shaking slightly and her breathing was laboured.
He slowly crawled over to her. The closer he got the worse she looked; gashes and bruises and blood covered the majority of her body.
“Hermione,” he said softly, touching his fingertips to her cheek. It was cold.
She slowly opened her eyes. He smiled at this sign of life, but when he looked into her chocolate brown eyes, he remembered.
And in that moment, his heart broke.
Remus gasped in shock, scrambling away from her, backing against the wall as he could move no further away. His heart pounded in his chest, so hard it felt as though his heart was trying to escape his body. He put his head in his hands, rocking back and forth on the spot as the memories came flooding back.
He did this. He did this to Hermione.
He bit her.
He changed her.
He wanted to die.
*
He never expected her forgiveness.
He knew that it was all over for him – he could never return to The Order and look anyone in the eyes. And Harry, oh God, Harry. He had just turned the best friend of his friends’ son.
He had not only just destroyed everything good in the brightest young witch in the country; he had destroyed every single good relationship he had.
He just sat there in the cold cell, Hermione by his feet. She hadn’t gotten up and he made no move to comfort her. They both just remained as they were, unmoving in their grey prison.
Remus looked up at the sound of someone approaching. Greyback appeared on the other side of the bars, grinning like a mad man.
He didn’t want to hear the words. He knew what Greyback would say. That he was discovered as an infiltrator to their group. Hermione had been seized and placed in prime position for when Remus transformed with the full moon. The attack on Hermione would remove her from The Order and weigh Remus so heavily with guilt that they would both be useless in the war effort.
Remus put his hands over his ears. It may have been petulant but it was all he could think of at that moment. He shut his eyes and blocked out the voice as best he could.
When Remus thought it would all be over, he opened his eyes. Greyback was gone and once more it was just him and Hermione. He looked down to her pale face. They just stared at each other. Remus tried to apologise but his voice wouldn’t cooperate and the only noise in the room were his strangled words. And then, to his immense surprise, Hermione smiled weakly at him, stretching her hand out to him.
He looked at her in disbelief for a moment before grasping her hand, squeezing it so tightly it probably hurt. The touch of her hand was like his own personal lifeline and he had never been more amazed by her than he was in that moment.
They stayed like that for a long time.
*
When Remus awoke the first sensation was warmth. He was cocooned in warmth. Which meant he wasn’t in Greyback’s cold cell anymore.
He sat with a start. The room was dark but he could tell he was back at Headquarters. He scanned the room and saw Hermione sleeping in a bed next to his.
She was still pale but looked vastly improved from the last time he saw her. There were bandages covering the gashes on her arms and her bruises had been magicked away. But she looked so small and helpless, and Hermione was usually such a strong personality that to see her so vulnerable was unnerving.
He threw the blankets aside and gingerly got out of bed. He stumbled to her bedside before kneeling on the floor. He carefully took her hand in his. Her skin was warm and soft to the touch.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her sleeping form before burying his head in her mattress and weeping.
The tears eventually stopped flowing but Remus remained where he was, both weak and unwilling to move. It was some time later that he felt the sensation of fingers gently threading through his hair. He jerked his head up to see Hermione, awake and bravely attempting a smile.
“Hermione, I’m so, so sorry,” he said, before he lost his nerve.
Her smile faltered and they just looked at each other. The horrible truth of the situation seemed to hang between them as they stared into each others eyes. She went to speak several times, but each thought in her head seemed inadequate or unfair or untrue, so in the end she simply replied with, “I know.”
*
Remus held the door open. Hermione acknowledged the gesture with a brief smile before entering the house, waiting in the entryway as Remus charmed the door closed. He thrust his hands into his pockets as he showed her around what was to become their home.
When it became apparent that Greyback wasn’t letting the rescue of Hermione and Remus go, The Order made a plan for their safety. They were to hide out in a small town, McGonagall being their secret keeper to ensure their safety. There had been some objections, the main and loudest objectors being Harry and Ron, but Hermione simply hugged them and said that this was what needed to be done.
Remus had glanced at Hermione with concern at that. He thought she was entirely too calm about everything that had happened. She had been kidnapped by their enemy and then turned by her mentor and was now having to leave two people who were essentially her family and she was yet to even cry about anything that had happened to her. She was the one comforting Harry and Ron, when shouldn’t it be the other way around?
Hermione retired to her room early, citing that the travel had worn her out. Remus gave her a wane smile before bidding her goodnight. She smiled in reply, getting up from the table and kissing his cheek as she passed him on her way out of the room.
Remus stared at her vacated seat. It didn’t add up. How could she be so accepting about what had happened to her? How could she treat the man who had hurt her with such civility, such warmth?
*
Remus and Hermione quickly and easily developed a comfortable atmosphere at home. Remus cooked. Hermione cleaned. They researched in the library by day and played games or read by the fireplace at night. They strolled around their vast property and listened to music and discussed their favourite books. Remus told Hermione about his past life as a Marauder and Hermione confessed the adventures she and Harry and Ron had.
Conversation was always running freely between them. Except for when Remus would try and get her to talk about what had happened in that cell, at which time Hermione would not-so-subtly change the subject.
He was worried about her. It wasn’t natural to be in such denial. She was usually so emotional and forthright and to see this placating, withdrawn Hermione wasn’t right.
It was inevitable that it all came to a head after Hermione’s first full moon.
McGonagall arrived with Wolfsbane for them both, leaving it on the table. Hermione barely acknowledged McGonagall or the potion, looking up from her book for a grand total of three seconds before returning to the written word without speaking a sound.
McGonagall farewelled Hermione, again receiving no response, and Remus walked her to the door. She enquired after Hermione’s wellbeing and Remus confessed that he thought her in denial. McGonagall was clearly worried about the younger witch and advised Remus to try and get her to open up to him. He agreed that he would, but suggested that maybe if by the next full moon Hermione was still in such a state it might be a good idea to break their ‘no visitors’ rule and allow Harry and Ron to deliver their potion. She sighed sadly, saying they would cross that bridge when they got to it before wishing him good luck and apparating away.
Remus returned back inside, picking up the steaming goblets and handing one to Hermione. She glanced up from her book, an irritated look on her face, as though she was more annoyed by the interruption than concerned about the potion. She took the proffered potion in her hand, her fingers brushing his in the action, and he was surprised by how cool her fingers were.
Remus had tried every conceivable approach with Hermione in an attempt to get a reaction or reply from her and so he tried the last viable approach: bad humour.
He raised his goblet and said, “To your health.”
Hermione snapped to attention at this. She met his eye and Remus silently prayed for some kind of reaction. He wanted her to scream or cry or attack him or do anything to show she knew what had happened to her and how her life had changed. But he got nothing. She just tapped her goblet against his and drowned the vile tasting liquid in one gulp before returning to her book.
Remus just stared at her for a moment before taking his potion and backing away, both amazed and terrified.
*
Remus awoke the next morning, groggy and aching from the transformation. He languidly stretched his body, waiting for the faintness to dissipate. His mind slowly became clearer and it was with a shock that he remembered. Hermione.
He grabbed his nearby t-shirt and pyjama pants, quickly throwing them on before hastening from the room.
The previous night she had refused his offer of staying with her. He had talked her through what she would experience and she nodded in the appropriate places but he wondered if she was actually hearing him at all. She had retired to her room early and he tried to check on her before he too retired but she had charmed the door closed.
He hesitated at the door, wondering if he should knock or just walk in. He pressed his ear to the door and could hear a soft but distinctive noise. Crying.
Remus removed the charm from the door and entered the room. Hermione was lying on the floor, wrapped in a long blue robe, sobbing. His heart broke at the sight of her. He gingerly sat down on the floor beside her and reached out, putting a hand in her hair. She registered his presence at this touch, looking up and meeting his eyes, and crying all the harder for it.
She went back to looking at nothing as she wept while Remus concentrated his efforts on not crying himself, running his hand through Hermione’s hair in what he hoped was a soothing motion. He desperately wanted to offer some words of comfort but his brain wasn’t very forthcoming so he simply offered comfort through his touch.
After what felt like an eternity her sobs lessened. Silent tears still streaked down her cheek, Remus every so often wiping them away. She carefully sat up, her limbs weak, and looked at Remus a moment before edging forward, so close she was practically in his lap, and throwing her arms around him.
Remus was taken aback by this action but firmly wrapped his arms around her. She was shaking slightly but her skin was warm through the thin material of her robe. She cried into his shoulder as he rubbed his hands up and down her back.
And then she did something that really surprised him. She pulled back and looked at him, her fingertips lightly tracing his stubble, before she crashed her lips onto his. She kissed him violently, forcing Remus to respond to her. He kissed back, Hermione taking advantage of his weakness by thrusting her tongue into his mouth. She grasped at his t-shirt and broke the kiss so she could remove it. She leaned back in to Remus but he put a hand to her mouth, blocking her. She froze, her eyes confused, as he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“What’s going on, Hermione?” he asked, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt.
She said nothing for a moment, just stared at him, resting her hands on his chest. And then she said but one word.
“Please.”
In that one word was more emotion and honesty than he had gotten from her in the last month. It was raw and desperate and she meant it.
“Hermione,” he said sadly. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight, burying his face in her hair.
“I want you to fuck me, Remus,” she whispered in his ear. The words and their forthright delivery shocked him but he couldn’t help the tingle in his spine at hearing them. “I need to feel human again. Please.”
She pulled back, her eyes locked on his as she slowly removed her robe. She was naked underneath and she tossed the material aside, pressing her body against his. The feel of her soft breasts against his chest stirred a feeling deep within him, not to mention certain parts of his anatomy.
She kissed his cheek, her lips lingering, before slowly kissing her way down his neck to his shoulder. She picked up his hand, placing it on her breast as she kissed her way back to his mouth.
He wished that he was strong and that he could refuse her. He knew he could never refuse her anything, not after what he did to her. He would do whatever it took to help heal her. But he also knew that that was just an excuse. It felt good and he wanted this, despite it being wrong on an infinite amount of levels. He might regret it later – she might regret it later – but all that mattered was right here and right now. And right now, she needed him and he wanted her.
So when Hermione reached his mouth, he matched the violent intensity of her kiss. His thumb flicked over her nipple as her hands roamed down his chest to his pyjama pants. Remus briefly rose from the floor so she could remove them, pushing the offending material to his knees. She straddled his lap as her hand wrapped around his cock, languidly stroking.
It all happened so fast. One moment her hand was on him and the next the hand was gone and she had sunk onto him and it was wet and warm and the only words Remus’ mind could conjure were fucking incredible. He moaned into her mouth as they moved together. She threw her head back as he thrust and Remus put his tongue to the pale column of her neck. She claimed his lips with her own for a moment before breaking the kiss, putting her mouth to the place where his shoulder and neck met.
Remus was close. He squeezed her breast, burying his head in the crook of her neck as they moved. He panted against her skin. He could feel her tongue on his shoulder, then her teeth as she gently bit him. Hermione threw her head back, screaming as she came, and with one final thrust he came.
They collapsed back onto the floor, Hermione atop Remus. They were both breathing heavy, Remus’ hands firm on her back. She was shaking as she came down from her orgasm and he held her closely; only she didn’t stop shaking and Remus he soon realised she had started crying.
Remus sighed, holding her tighter as she clutched at him, pressing his lips to her sweaty hairline.
*
Remus couldn’t concentrate. The words on the page before him blurred as fatigue washed over him. He pressed the heels of his hands into his closed eyes, making him see white spots.
He hadn’t slept well last night. After Hermione had stopped weeping in his arms she smiled weakly at him and Remus kissed her cheek before dressing and leaving her alone. She surfaced a few hours later, dressed and fresh-faced, and after a brief smile sat down at her desk and continued working as though nothing had happened.
Guilt had kept him awake. Guilt and regret had been a constant companion since he cursed her a month ago, only now he had a whole nother layer of guilt to add. She was weak and emotional and he had slept with her. It didn’t matter that she had practically begged him for it – he should have said no.
And now another day had passed and he couldn’t get the memory of them together out of his mind. He had never been this distracted and affected by anyone before.
Remus was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of Hermione putting a mug of tea on his desk. She smiled, asking if he wanted to go for a stroll after dinner. He nodded mutely in reply. She returned to her desk, picking up a thick tome and flicking through it.
She couldn’t be as unaffected as she appeared, he thought. How was it possible that in the previous forty-eight hours she had experienced her first transformation into a werewolf and slept with the man who bit her without her displaying any kind of alteration?
*
Remus and McGonagall spoke in hushed tones at the doorway, not wanting Hermione to hear their conversation. Remus explained that while her behaviour was slightly improved he was still worried that she was yet to see her express any anger or resentment about what had happened.
McGonagall handed over the Wolfsbane, suggesting that he do whatever it took to get her to open up. He nodded, gave his thanks and bid her goodbye.
Hermione was on the couch, reading a book. She smiled up at him as he entered the room, her expression falling when she saw the goblets in his hand. He sat down beside her but didn’t hand the goblet over.
“Before I give this to you, we have to talk.”
“About what?” she asked casually as she put the book aside.
“You need to talk to me about what has happened.”
She sighed, as though this was something she had explained a million times before and he just didn’t understand. “What do you want me to say?”
“Anything!” he exclaimed. “I want you to tell me that you’re angry about what happened. I want you to tell me you’ll never forgive me for doing this to you. I want you to tell me that you’re pissed off and that this has affected you somehow.”
Hermione looked at him calmly, even though he had gotten more and more worked up with each sentence. “There is no need to forgive you Remus because you didn’t do anything wrong,” she said evenly. “You didn’t mean to bite me. You were used as a weapon against our side. It wasn’t your fault.”
Remus was so stunned by this pronouncement that when she took the goblet from his hand he let it go. She drank the potion, put the goblet down on the coffee table and left the room without another word.
*
When Remus checked on Hermione the next morning she was pacing the floor of her room. She was clearly upset; she wasn’t crying but she had been. Her eyes were red and her pale cheeks were marked with tearstains.
Remus closed the door behind him and she looked up at the sound. She looked so agitated and he once again found himself silently hoping she would unleash a rage at him, anything to get her to admit that she resented him or that she was angry about what had happened.
He put his hands on his hips, waiting for a tirade of abuse to assault his ears. It never came. Hermione stopped pacing, looked at him for a moment, then rushed forward, pressing her lips to his.
She was forceful, backing him up until the hit the door. He opened his mouth to her, shuddering at the touch of her tongue. She moaned, putting her hands under his t-shirt and tracing his stomach. She pushed his pants down to his ankles, removing her robe quickly before grasping his cock and pumping. He broke their kiss, settling his hands on her hips, trailing his mouth down her neck and running his tongue over her breast before taking the nipple in his mouth. She whimpered at the touch and when he kissed her again, she braced her hands on his shoulders and jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist.
Remus turned, pressing her up against the wall before she impaled herself on him. They both cried out, Hermione pressing her lips to his to swallow the end of his scream. They moved together, the thrusts hard and fast. Hermione threw her head back to the door, strangled cries of pleasure escaping her throat. Remus buried his head into her neck, high at the sensation of being enveloped by her. Hermione screamed his name as her muscles clamped down on him and she came. He grunted, his mouth to the heavy pulse point on her neck as he spilled inside her.
*
Sometimes he was so overwhelmed with guilt he could barely breathe.
Remus would look over at her, hunched over a heavy tome and biting her bottom lip in concentration, and then after a few moments he would gulp in a large breath, having forgotten to breathe.
At times all he would be able to think of was how much he hurt her, how badly he changed her. He would look at her and he could feel the guilt running through his veins. And when she smiled or laughed or joked, his heart broke a little more.
Overcome with remorse, he would often refuse her. She was going for a walk and did he want to come? Did he feel like playing a round of cards? Did he want to watch a movie? And he would say no and she would nod and smile understandingly and walk away.
And then the guilt would double. This should be about Hermione. It should all be about Hermione and his refusing her was probably making her feel worse. What right did he have to wallow when she was the one going through something?
*
He always felt groggy when awaking from the transformation. His body was always sore after sleeping on the floor, waking up naked and cold.
When he awoke after his third transformation in his new home the first thing he noticed was Hermione. She was lying on his bed, completely naked. Her eyes were closed but she was awake, her fingertips idly stroking her stomach.
He watched for a moment. Their two times together could be explained away by Hermione being in an emotional state as she got used to being a werewolf. She had been the one instigating, pushing, she had been the one needing it.
But if he did what he wanted, what she obviously wanted, if he made the first move, would that be different?
Remus was beyond caring at that point.
He silently got up, standing at the foot of the bed and appreciating her form. He climbed onto the bed. She must have felt his presence at the dip of the mattress but she didn’t open her eyes. He placed his hands on her thighs, easing her legs apart, and with a wolfish grin he thrust his tongue into her cunt.
Hermione gasped out loud, her back arching off the bed. Remus teased her with languorous licks and light nibbles. He eased a finger into her as he sucked on her clit, making her hips jerk. She writhed at his touch, needing more. He tormented her, bringing her close to the edge but not letting her fall, removing his finger and mouth.
He slowly eased up her body, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses on her tingling skin. He paused at her chest, giving her breasts extra attention, caressing and licking and sucking. He moved his mouth up to her neck as he settled his body over hers.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, desperate for him. He paused, staring into her bright brown eyes below him. She looked back and when he gently touched her cheek with his fingertips, a tear escaped the corner of her eye, cascading down her temple.
Remus kept his eyes on hers as he tenderly wiped the tear away. And then he leant down and kissed her, thrusting his tongue and cock into her at the same time.
Hermione locked her legs tighter around him, urging him deeper. He moved inside her, fast and deep, Hermione grasping at his back for purchase. The bed moved with them, stopping only after they had both climaxed, screaming out loud before Remus collapsed atop her, their sweaty skin sliding together.
*
He tried to rationalise it. He tried to make sense of the dichotomy. But he couldn’t reconcile the image of the calm and detached Hermione he saw every day with the image of the desperate and raw Hermione, crying his name as she orgasmed.
Maybe he was over-thinking it. They may have both been bitten but that didn’t mean they had to deal with the after-effects the same way. Maybe she really was dealing with it. Maybe behind closed doors she was dealing with her new life and she didn’t want to tell or show him anything to do with the healing process for fear of increasing his guilt.
Was Hermione that good of a person? Would she really be so concerned with his feelings that she would alter her entire being around it? Surely not even Hermione could be that good of a person.
Something had to give.
*
The look on her face he would never forget. She had been reading, of course, and didn’t notice the sound of someone knocking at the front door. If she had’ve thought about it she would have assumed it was McGonagall, dropping off their potion for the evenings full moon.
So when Harry said hello, the look on Hermione’s face as she looked up in disbelief was something Remus would remember for the rest of his life.
She grinned, standing from the chair and hastening to her best friend, almost knocking him over in the enthusiasm of her hug, making him laugh. Her first question had been to ask what he was doing here. Harry sobered, telling her that he was delivering their Wolfsbane.
Remus subtly watched as her expression faltered. She turned to him, telling him to excuse her and Harry while they caught up. Remus smiled at them as they left the room.
He sincerely hoped that the presence of Harry, even if only for an hour, would affect her in some way. Surely seeing her oldest and best friend would shock her out of her stupor. To realise all that she had missed would hopefully get her to deal with her unresolved feelings about her situation.
Remus waited in the lounge while Harry and Hermione reacquainted themselves in the next room. He could hear the low murmur of their voices but no laughter and no crying. Just constant conversation. He privately hoped Harry was getting through to Hermione, since it was becoming obvious that she would not open up to him, despite there being no one else around to confide in.
An hour later, Harry emerged, alone. Remus stood and went to him. Without preamble Harry told him that after several subtle and not-so-subtle attempts at getting her to open up about her feelings about her change he had gotten nothing from her.
Harry was cold and analytical in his explanation. Remus sighed. He began to apologise, wanting so badly to explain how eternally sorry he was about what had happened to Hermione. But Harry cut him off with a wave of the hand, not wanting to hear it. He said he had come here only for Hermione and was now leaving, walking away without looking back.
Remus sighed. He slowly wandered over to the table where Harry had left two goblets of thick potion. He picked up a goblet and drank it, placing the empty goblet back next to the full one. Looking at Hermione’s potion, an idea began to form.
*
Remus cradled his head in his hands, his elbows braced on his knees. He was praying for strength.
He looked up at the sound of his bedroom door opening and closing. He automatically stood up, meeting her eyes, and he could feel his strength faltering. He took a deep breath.
In an instant Hermione had her lips to his and her hands were clawing at his clothes. He didn’t respond to her but she barely seemed to notice. Gathering every ounce of strength in his body, Remus wrapped his long fingers around her wrists, stilling her hands as he leaned his head back, breaking the kiss.
She looked at him, her forehead crinkling in genuine confusion. “What?”
He shook his head. “No, Hermione. We can’t.”
She took a small step back. “No?” she repeated, as though she sincerely thought she had simply misheard him.
His head was hung low, averting his eyes from hers as he shook his head. She yanked her wrists out of his grasp and he snapped his head up at that. Her expression was hard, her eyes fiery as she said, her voice harsh, “You don’t get to say ‘no’. Not after what you did to me.”
“Hermione-“
“No,” she cut him off with a firm word and shake of the head. She poked her index finger into his chest. “You don’t get to deny me, Remus. You have to do what I want.”
“Hermione-“
She pushed his chest hard, pushing him back onto the bed. She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, grabbing at his top. He swiped at her hands, fighting her. She wouldn’t be deterred, tearing his top, the rip of the material loud in the room. She kept grasping, kept fighting, and Remus soon realised she had started to cry. He reached out, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tight to his chest. She tried to fight him, tried to escape his embrace, but his arms were strong and he wouldn’t let her go. She started sobbing, repeatedly screaming out loud just one word.
Why?
Remus held her as she cried, his lips pressed to her temple. Her breath was warm on his skin, such a contrast to her cool tears. She clutched fiercely at him, no longer in anger but in desperation.
He didn’t say ‘I’m sorry’, though his mind repeatedly screamed it. He whispered words of comfort against her hair, ignoring his own tears.
*
He hated that she was in pain but he was also glad that she was finally dealing with what had happened.
Their house became void of laughter or smiles. Remus let her deal with it how she wanted, letting her know he was there for her if she needed to talk.
He asked her for walks and read to her by the fireplace. He engaged her in general conversation. But he never pushed. If he could tell she didn’t feel like his company he left. If she stopped responding in their conversation he stopped talking. He was happy to do it her way.
*
Remus awoke after the transformation more tired than the night before. He arched his neck, trying to glimpse the clock on his bedside table.
It was later than he usually slept. He slowly got up off the floor and grabbed his nearby pyjamas and put them on.
Sitting on his bed, he could hear a noise emanating from the kitchen. Hermione. He grabbed a robe and threw it on as he stumbled groggily down the hallway.
He leaned on the frame of the doorway as he watched her bustle about the kitchen. She registered his presence after a few moments, smiling briefly in his direction before continuing to prepare breakfast for them.
When she had finished setting all the food down Remus finally entered the kitchen. She yawned, sitting at the table and pouring some orange juice for them as Remus sat down at the table.
She handed him a glass and when their fingers brushed, Remus couldn’t help but think about their usual post-transformation contact. But the fact she wasn’t throwing herself at him in some kind of desperate need for catharsis was a good thing, now that she was dealing in a more healthy way.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked some time later.
She looked up from her plate. Smiling brightly, a little too brightly, she said, “Fine.”
*
When Hermione saw Ron she burst into tears. She stood up, sobbing as she rushed forward and threw her arms around him. Ron placed his hands firm on her back as she shook in his arms.
Remus sadly watched on, meeting Ron’s troubled eyes over Hermione’s bushy head.
After a few minutes Hermione came out of Ron’s embrace, her lips still trembling as Ron wiped away her tears. She glanced back to Remus and for the briefest of seconds their eyes met and his stomach dropped. Her eyes were red and her skin was pale and she was clearly devastated and damaged but despite all of this, or maybe because of it, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
And he was in love with her.
Remus watched as Hermione drank the potion Ron had delivered for them before the two old friends escaped into another room to catch up in private. He ran his hands over his face, feeling the onset of the full moon in his bones.
*
Remus and Hermione slowly strolled around the edge of their property. They were talking about nothing really, nothing of significance anyway. But Remus could see that Hermione was in better spirits today and that she was slowly starting to improve and when she smiled at his bad jokes and laughed at his good ones she really meant it.
It was late, the moon bright in the sky. Hermione put her arm through his as they walked, resting her head on his upper arm. Remus smiled as she snuggled closer to him, yawning sleepily.
*
Remus was sitting in bed, leaning against the headboard of his bed and reading.
The creak of his door opening surprised him. He looked up and Hermione was standing in the doorway, wringing her hands and looking at him shyly. She closed the door behind her, entering the room and moving to the side of his bed.
Remus just looked at her, surprised and confused by her sudden appearance in his room. She picked up the edge of the blanket, sliding in between the sheets, resting the blankets in her lap.
He bookmarked his page and placed his book on the bedside table, turning back to Hermione and giving her his full attention. She was staring at her hands which were wringing in her lap.
Hermione went to speak, but clearly thought better of whatever it was she was about to say. Remus just sat there and waited for her. At length Hermione said, her voice quiet and apologetic, “I’m sorry things have been so horrible around here lately.”
“I’m not,” Remus replied, surprising her. She looked up at him. “I’m glad you have finally been dealing with what has happened. Don’t get me wrong, I hate seeing you in pain, but it’s good that you have finally been dealing. A tense atmosphere at home is a small price to pay if it means you are healing.”
She smiled bashfully at him. “Remus, there is something I want to say to you, but I am only going to say it once so you have to promise me that you will listen and believe me.”
“Of course.”
“Promise me, Remus.”
He nodded. “I promise.”
She shifted a bit closer to him, turning her body so she was facing him better. She looked him in the eyes and made sure he was pinned under her stare, wanting him to see the truth in her eyes. “What happened to me, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do this to me, he did. You had no control over what happened that night. It’s like…” she trailed off as her mind searched for an appropriate analogy. “It’s like blaming someone under the Imperius curse for their actions. It’s not their fault or intent what they do under the spell, no more than it was your fault or intent to bite me when Greyback put us both in that cell. Okay?”
Remus nodded mutely. She smiled at him, slowly reaching out and placing her hand on his stubbled cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen down his cheek. She ran her thumb lightly over his cheek, her eyes locked on his as she slowly leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
It was a slow and sensuous kiss, their lips sliding together for a moment before their mouths opened to each other and their tongues met.
Remus broke the kiss, his eyes searching hers for answers to his unspoken question. “Hermione-”
“You know what I realised these last nine weeks?” she interrupted.
Remus shook his head.
“I need you. And it’s not just because you know what I am going through, although I’m sure that’s part of it. But it’s like … those times we were together … it’s like my body and my subconscious knew I needed you before my heart did.” She leaned forward, briefly kissing his lips. “You have had it so much worse than me, Remus. With everything that happened with Harry’s parents and Sirius and all the prejudice you have encountered in your life, for you to be as strong and genuine and kind as you are is amazing. You are the best example I could possibly have.”
Hermione inched closer to him, taking his larger hand in hers.
“You’re my salvation, Remus,” she said softly.
Remus smiled shakily at her, reaching up and cupping her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers.
She sighed at the touch of his tongue to hers. They wrapped their arms around each other as the kiss deepened. They lay down on the bed, Remus leaning over Hermione.
They were content just to kiss for a few minutes. Their previous couplings had been so raw and intense and they both wanted this time to be different. Remus kissed his way slowly down the pale column of her neck, running his hand over her chest. Hermione arched up under his touch, trembling when he pushed up her t-shirt and his fingertips caressed her stomach.
Remus looked into Hermione’s eyes and was relieved to see she looked as nervous as he felt. Which was ridiculous, they had done this three times already, why should they be nervous? But he knew; it was because it was different this time. It wasn’t just people clawing at each other in a desperate attempt to connect to their humanity. It was something more.
He put his mouth to her stomach, marvelling at the softness of her skin. He pushed her top up over her head, throwing the fabric aside. She helped him remove his own top, rolling them over so he was beneath her. Their chests pressed together and his hands were soft on her back as they kissed.
She ran her hand down his chest before pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest and stomach. She slowly explored every inch of him before working her way up back to his mouth, kissing him as she pushed his pants down his legs, Remus kicking them off.
They rolled back, Remus atop Hermione. He took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. He removed her shorts and underwear as he moved his mouth down her velvet stomach. She kicked off the material before Remus settled himself between her legs.
Their mouths met in a searing kiss as their bodies pressed together, the skin on skin contact amazing. Remus had a hand on her neck as he ran his other hand down her chest, over her side to her leg, guiding her leg up to wrap around him. Hermione snaked a hand between them as her legs enveloped his hips, crossing at the ankle. She grasped him in her hand, running her hand up and down his length, Remus moaning into her mouth at the contact.
He broke their kiss, Hermione releasing him and wrapping her arms around him. They looked at each other as Remus entered her, Hermione crying out at the sensation.
They kept looking at each other as he slowly began moving inside her. She wrapped her legs more firmly around him, wanting him deeper. She met his thrusts, her hips moving with him. Remus pressed his forehead to hers, moaning at the sensation of them together.
Hermione grasped at his back with one hand, bringing the other down to lace her fingers through his where they rested on her shoulder. Their glistening bodies moved faster together as they got closer.
Remus put his head into the crook of her shoulder. Hermione panted, her breath tickling his ear. They grasped desperately at each other, pressing their bodies together as they both came, crying each others name.
Remus collapsed atop her. He breathed heavily against her warm skin, trying his best to keep as much weight off her body as he could. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, pressing her lips to his hair.
He rolled off her, pulling her with him, into his arms. They lay together, Hermione with her hand on his heart and Remus with his hand to her back, lightly trailing his fingertips up and down the smooth plane of her back.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, making her smile into his chest.
A few hours later, with Hermione sleeping in his arms, Remus kissed her head, whispering into her hair, “You’re my salvation, Hermione.”
*
Remus slowly opened his eyes. Sunlight was flooding his bedroom so he turned his head away from the bright light, his eyes settling on Hermione.
She was still asleep, lying on her stomach with her hand idly resting on his upper arm. He moved closer to her, placing a palm on her bare back. He placed his head next to hers on the pillow, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as his hand gently ran up and down her back.
She smiled in her sleep, instinctively moving closer to him.
He stared at her face for a long moment, her skin soft under his hand.
It was, quite literally, the best moment of Remus’ life.
Ships: Remus/Hermione
Rating: Adult
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Say it with me now ~ me ... don't ... own.
Summary: She had been kidnapped by their enemy and then turned by her mentor and was now having to leave two people who were essentially her family and she was yet to even cry about anything that had happened to her.
Authors Notes: Okay, so this story came from the very random prompt
alexi_lupin gave me for the November drabbles. Through a train of thought I went from that prompt to this fic. It could never been done in a drabble sized piece of writing - instead morphing into this 7000+ words fic. I am actually really really proud of this and I hope everyone likes it. But just look at the rating first - it's rated adult for a reason folks.Enjoy!
50_smutlets prompt: Bitinghpfanfic10x10 prompt: RegretSalvation
It was, quite literally, the worst moment of Remus’ life.
He thought he had hit rock bottom before. Receiving The Bite at such a young age. The deaths of James and Lily and believing Sirius responsible. Sirius’ death after being back for only two years.
All these moments paled in comparison to the depths he sunk to that day.
He awoke from the transformation and even before opening his eyes he knew something was tragically wrong. He could feel it in the heavy beating of his heart and the fog of his brain. He didn’t want to open his eyes, especially after hearing the ragged breath of someone nearby.
At last his heavy eyelids lifted. His vision was blurry as he gingerly raised himself off the cold floor of his cell. He turned his head and his eyes fell on the source of the uneven breathing that had been assaulting his ears.
It was Hermione. She was lying on the floor, her clothes shredded and covered in blood.
Remus couldn’t move. He lay there, paralysed, not wanting to see this but unable to turn away. Her limbs were slack and her eyes were closed. She was shaking slightly and her breathing was laboured.
He slowly crawled over to her. The closer he got the worse she looked; gashes and bruises and blood covered the majority of her body.
“Hermione,” he said softly, touching his fingertips to her cheek. It was cold.
She slowly opened her eyes. He smiled at this sign of life, but when he looked into her chocolate brown eyes, he remembered.
And in that moment, his heart broke.
Remus gasped in shock, scrambling away from her, backing against the wall as he could move no further away. His heart pounded in his chest, so hard it felt as though his heart was trying to escape his body. He put his head in his hands, rocking back and forth on the spot as the memories came flooding back.
He did this. He did this to Hermione.
He bit her.
He changed her.
He wanted to die.
He never expected her forgiveness.
He knew that it was all over for him – he could never return to The Order and look anyone in the eyes. And Harry, oh God, Harry. He had just turned the best friend of his friends’ son.
He had not only just destroyed everything good in the brightest young witch in the country; he had destroyed every single good relationship he had.
He just sat there in the cold cell, Hermione by his feet. She hadn’t gotten up and he made no move to comfort her. They both just remained as they were, unmoving in their grey prison.
Remus looked up at the sound of someone approaching. Greyback appeared on the other side of the bars, grinning like a mad man.
He didn’t want to hear the words. He knew what Greyback would say. That he was discovered as an infiltrator to their group. Hermione had been seized and placed in prime position for when Remus transformed with the full moon. The attack on Hermione would remove her from The Order and weigh Remus so heavily with guilt that they would both be useless in the war effort.
Remus put his hands over his ears. It may have been petulant but it was all he could think of at that moment. He shut his eyes and blocked out the voice as best he could.
When Remus thought it would all be over, he opened his eyes. Greyback was gone and once more it was just him and Hermione. He looked down to her pale face. They just stared at each other. Remus tried to apologise but his voice wouldn’t cooperate and the only noise in the room were his strangled words. And then, to his immense surprise, Hermione smiled weakly at him, stretching her hand out to him.
He looked at her in disbelief for a moment before grasping her hand, squeezing it so tightly it probably hurt. The touch of her hand was like his own personal lifeline and he had never been more amazed by her than he was in that moment.
They stayed like that for a long time.
When Remus awoke the first sensation was warmth. He was cocooned in warmth. Which meant he wasn’t in Greyback’s cold cell anymore.
He sat with a start. The room was dark but he could tell he was back at Headquarters. He scanned the room and saw Hermione sleeping in a bed next to his.
She was still pale but looked vastly improved from the last time he saw her. There were bandages covering the gashes on her arms and her bruises had been magicked away. But she looked so small and helpless, and Hermione was usually such a strong personality that to see her so vulnerable was unnerving.
He threw the blankets aside and gingerly got out of bed. He stumbled to her bedside before kneeling on the floor. He carefully took her hand in his. Her skin was warm and soft to the touch.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her sleeping form before burying his head in her mattress and weeping.
The tears eventually stopped flowing but Remus remained where he was, both weak and unwilling to move. It was some time later that he felt the sensation of fingers gently threading through his hair. He jerked his head up to see Hermione, awake and bravely attempting a smile.
“Hermione, I’m so, so sorry,” he said, before he lost his nerve.
Her smile faltered and they just looked at each other. The horrible truth of the situation seemed to hang between them as they stared into each others eyes. She went to speak several times, but each thought in her head seemed inadequate or unfair or untrue, so in the end she simply replied with, “I know.”
Remus held the door open. Hermione acknowledged the gesture with a brief smile before entering the house, waiting in the entryway as Remus charmed the door closed. He thrust his hands into his pockets as he showed her around what was to become their home.
When it became apparent that Greyback wasn’t letting the rescue of Hermione and Remus go, The Order made a plan for their safety. They were to hide out in a small town, McGonagall being their secret keeper to ensure their safety. There had been some objections, the main and loudest objectors being Harry and Ron, but Hermione simply hugged them and said that this was what needed to be done.
Remus had glanced at Hermione with concern at that. He thought she was entirely too calm about everything that had happened. She had been kidnapped by their enemy and then turned by her mentor and was now having to leave two people who were essentially her family and she was yet to even cry about anything that had happened to her. She was the one comforting Harry and Ron, when shouldn’t it be the other way around?
Hermione retired to her room early, citing that the travel had worn her out. Remus gave her a wane smile before bidding her goodnight. She smiled in reply, getting up from the table and kissing his cheek as she passed him on her way out of the room.
Remus stared at her vacated seat. It didn’t add up. How could she be so accepting about what had happened to her? How could she treat the man who had hurt her with such civility, such warmth?
Remus and Hermione quickly and easily developed a comfortable atmosphere at home. Remus cooked. Hermione cleaned. They researched in the library by day and played games or read by the fireplace at night. They strolled around their vast property and listened to music and discussed their favourite books. Remus told Hermione about his past life as a Marauder and Hermione confessed the adventures she and Harry and Ron had.
Conversation was always running freely between them. Except for when Remus would try and get her to talk about what had happened in that cell, at which time Hermione would not-so-subtly change the subject.
He was worried about her. It wasn’t natural to be in such denial. She was usually so emotional and forthright and to see this placating, withdrawn Hermione wasn’t right.
It was inevitable that it all came to a head after Hermione’s first full moon.
McGonagall arrived with Wolfsbane for them both, leaving it on the table. Hermione barely acknowledged McGonagall or the potion, looking up from her book for a grand total of three seconds before returning to the written word without speaking a sound.
McGonagall farewelled Hermione, again receiving no response, and Remus walked her to the door. She enquired after Hermione’s wellbeing and Remus confessed that he thought her in denial. McGonagall was clearly worried about the younger witch and advised Remus to try and get her to open up to him. He agreed that he would, but suggested that maybe if by the next full moon Hermione was still in such a state it might be a good idea to break their ‘no visitors’ rule and allow Harry and Ron to deliver their potion. She sighed sadly, saying they would cross that bridge when they got to it before wishing him good luck and apparating away.
Remus returned back inside, picking up the steaming goblets and handing one to Hermione. She glanced up from her book, an irritated look on her face, as though she was more annoyed by the interruption than concerned about the potion. She took the proffered potion in her hand, her fingers brushing his in the action, and he was surprised by how cool her fingers were.
Remus had tried every conceivable approach with Hermione in an attempt to get a reaction or reply from her and so he tried the last viable approach: bad humour.
He raised his goblet and said, “To your health.”
Hermione snapped to attention at this. She met his eye and Remus silently prayed for some kind of reaction. He wanted her to scream or cry or attack him or do anything to show she knew what had happened to her and how her life had changed. But he got nothing. She just tapped her goblet against his and drowned the vile tasting liquid in one gulp before returning to her book.
Remus just stared at her for a moment before taking his potion and backing away, both amazed and terrified.
Remus awoke the next morning, groggy and aching from the transformation. He languidly stretched his body, waiting for the faintness to dissipate. His mind slowly became clearer and it was with a shock that he remembered. Hermione.
He grabbed his nearby t-shirt and pyjama pants, quickly throwing them on before hastening from the room.
The previous night she had refused his offer of staying with her. He had talked her through what she would experience and she nodded in the appropriate places but he wondered if she was actually hearing him at all. She had retired to her room early and he tried to check on her before he too retired but she had charmed the door closed.
He hesitated at the door, wondering if he should knock or just walk in. He pressed his ear to the door and could hear a soft but distinctive noise. Crying.
Remus removed the charm from the door and entered the room. Hermione was lying on the floor, wrapped in a long blue robe, sobbing. His heart broke at the sight of her. He gingerly sat down on the floor beside her and reached out, putting a hand in her hair. She registered his presence at this touch, looking up and meeting his eyes, and crying all the harder for it.
She went back to looking at nothing as she wept while Remus concentrated his efforts on not crying himself, running his hand through Hermione’s hair in what he hoped was a soothing motion. He desperately wanted to offer some words of comfort but his brain wasn’t very forthcoming so he simply offered comfort through his touch.
After what felt like an eternity her sobs lessened. Silent tears still streaked down her cheek, Remus every so often wiping them away. She carefully sat up, her limbs weak, and looked at Remus a moment before edging forward, so close she was practically in his lap, and throwing her arms around him.
Remus was taken aback by this action but firmly wrapped his arms around her. She was shaking slightly but her skin was warm through the thin material of her robe. She cried into his shoulder as he rubbed his hands up and down her back.
And then she did something that really surprised him. She pulled back and looked at him, her fingertips lightly tracing his stubble, before she crashed her lips onto his. She kissed him violently, forcing Remus to respond to her. He kissed back, Hermione taking advantage of his weakness by thrusting her tongue into his mouth. She grasped at his t-shirt and broke the kiss so she could remove it. She leaned back in to Remus but he put a hand to her mouth, blocking her. She froze, her eyes confused, as he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“What’s going on, Hermione?” he asked, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt.
She said nothing for a moment, just stared at him, resting her hands on his chest. And then she said but one word.
“Please.”
In that one word was more emotion and honesty than he had gotten from her in the last month. It was raw and desperate and she meant it.
“Hermione,” he said sadly. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight, burying his face in her hair.
“I want you to fuck me, Remus,” she whispered in his ear. The words and their forthright delivery shocked him but he couldn’t help the tingle in his spine at hearing them. “I need to feel human again. Please.”
She pulled back, her eyes locked on his as she slowly removed her robe. She was naked underneath and she tossed the material aside, pressing her body against his. The feel of her soft breasts against his chest stirred a feeling deep within him, not to mention certain parts of his anatomy.
She kissed his cheek, her lips lingering, before slowly kissing her way down his neck to his shoulder. She picked up his hand, placing it on her breast as she kissed her way back to his mouth.
He wished that he was strong and that he could refuse her. He knew he could never refuse her anything, not after what he did to her. He would do whatever it took to help heal her. But he also knew that that was just an excuse. It felt good and he wanted this, despite it being wrong on an infinite amount of levels. He might regret it later – she might regret it later – but all that mattered was right here and right now. And right now, she needed him and he wanted her.
So when Hermione reached his mouth, he matched the violent intensity of her kiss. His thumb flicked over her nipple as her hands roamed down his chest to his pyjama pants. Remus briefly rose from the floor so she could remove them, pushing the offending material to his knees. She straddled his lap as her hand wrapped around his cock, languidly stroking.
It all happened so fast. One moment her hand was on him and the next the hand was gone and she had sunk onto him and it was wet and warm and the only words Remus’ mind could conjure were fucking incredible. He moaned into her mouth as they moved together. She threw her head back as he thrust and Remus put his tongue to the pale column of her neck. She claimed his lips with her own for a moment before breaking the kiss, putting her mouth to the place where his shoulder and neck met.
Remus was close. He squeezed her breast, burying his head in the crook of her neck as they moved. He panted against her skin. He could feel her tongue on his shoulder, then her teeth as she gently bit him. Hermione threw her head back, screaming as she came, and with one final thrust he came.
They collapsed back onto the floor, Hermione atop Remus. They were both breathing heavy, Remus’ hands firm on her back. She was shaking as she came down from her orgasm and he held her closely; only she didn’t stop shaking and Remus he soon realised she had started crying.
Remus sighed, holding her tighter as she clutched at him, pressing his lips to her sweaty hairline.
Remus couldn’t concentrate. The words on the page before him blurred as fatigue washed over him. He pressed the heels of his hands into his closed eyes, making him see white spots.
He hadn’t slept well last night. After Hermione had stopped weeping in his arms she smiled weakly at him and Remus kissed her cheek before dressing and leaving her alone. She surfaced a few hours later, dressed and fresh-faced, and after a brief smile sat down at her desk and continued working as though nothing had happened.
Guilt had kept him awake. Guilt and regret had been a constant companion since he cursed her a month ago, only now he had a whole nother layer of guilt to add. She was weak and emotional and he had slept with her. It didn’t matter that she had practically begged him for it – he should have said no.
And now another day had passed and he couldn’t get the memory of them together out of his mind. He had never been this distracted and affected by anyone before.
Remus was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of Hermione putting a mug of tea on his desk. She smiled, asking if he wanted to go for a stroll after dinner. He nodded mutely in reply. She returned to her desk, picking up a thick tome and flicking through it.
She couldn’t be as unaffected as she appeared, he thought. How was it possible that in the previous forty-eight hours she had experienced her first transformation into a werewolf and slept with the man who bit her without her displaying any kind of alteration?
Remus and McGonagall spoke in hushed tones at the doorway, not wanting Hermione to hear their conversation. Remus explained that while her behaviour was slightly improved he was still worried that she was yet to see her express any anger or resentment about what had happened.
McGonagall handed over the Wolfsbane, suggesting that he do whatever it took to get her to open up. He nodded, gave his thanks and bid her goodbye.
Hermione was on the couch, reading a book. She smiled up at him as he entered the room, her expression falling when she saw the goblets in his hand. He sat down beside her but didn’t hand the goblet over.
“Before I give this to you, we have to talk.”
“About what?” she asked casually as she put the book aside.
“You need to talk to me about what has happened.”
She sighed, as though this was something she had explained a million times before and he just didn’t understand. “What do you want me to say?”
“Anything!” he exclaimed. “I want you to tell me that you’re angry about what happened. I want you to tell me you’ll never forgive me for doing this to you. I want you to tell me that you’re pissed off and that this has affected you somehow.”
Hermione looked at him calmly, even though he had gotten more and more worked up with each sentence. “There is no need to forgive you Remus because you didn’t do anything wrong,” she said evenly. “You didn’t mean to bite me. You were used as a weapon against our side. It wasn’t your fault.”
Remus was so stunned by this pronouncement that when she took the goblet from his hand he let it go. She drank the potion, put the goblet down on the coffee table and left the room without another word.
When Remus checked on Hermione the next morning she was pacing the floor of her room. She was clearly upset; she wasn’t crying but she had been. Her eyes were red and her pale cheeks were marked with tearstains.
Remus closed the door behind him and she looked up at the sound. She looked so agitated and he once again found himself silently hoping she would unleash a rage at him, anything to get her to admit that she resented him or that she was angry about what had happened.
He put his hands on his hips, waiting for a tirade of abuse to assault his ears. It never came. Hermione stopped pacing, looked at him for a moment, then rushed forward, pressing her lips to his.
She was forceful, backing him up until the hit the door. He opened his mouth to her, shuddering at the touch of her tongue. She moaned, putting her hands under his t-shirt and tracing his stomach. She pushed his pants down to his ankles, removing her robe quickly before grasping his cock and pumping. He broke their kiss, settling his hands on her hips, trailing his mouth down her neck and running his tongue over her breast before taking the nipple in his mouth. She whimpered at the touch and when he kissed her again, she braced her hands on his shoulders and jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist.
Remus turned, pressing her up against the wall before she impaled herself on him. They both cried out, Hermione pressing her lips to his to swallow the end of his scream. They moved together, the thrusts hard and fast. Hermione threw her head back to the door, strangled cries of pleasure escaping her throat. Remus buried his head into her neck, high at the sensation of being enveloped by her. Hermione screamed his name as her muscles clamped down on him and she came. He grunted, his mouth to the heavy pulse point on her neck as he spilled inside her.
Sometimes he was so overwhelmed with guilt he could barely breathe.
Remus would look over at her, hunched over a heavy tome and biting her bottom lip in concentration, and then after a few moments he would gulp in a large breath, having forgotten to breathe.
At times all he would be able to think of was how much he hurt her, how badly he changed her. He would look at her and he could feel the guilt running through his veins. And when she smiled or laughed or joked, his heart broke a little more.
Overcome with remorse, he would often refuse her. She was going for a walk and did he want to come? Did he feel like playing a round of cards? Did he want to watch a movie? And he would say no and she would nod and smile understandingly and walk away.
And then the guilt would double. This should be about Hermione. It should all be about Hermione and his refusing her was probably making her feel worse. What right did he have to wallow when she was the one going through something?
He always felt groggy when awaking from the transformation. His body was always sore after sleeping on the floor, waking up naked and cold.
When he awoke after his third transformation in his new home the first thing he noticed was Hermione. She was lying on his bed, completely naked. Her eyes were closed but she was awake, her fingertips idly stroking her stomach.
He watched for a moment. Their two times together could be explained away by Hermione being in an emotional state as she got used to being a werewolf. She had been the one instigating, pushing, she had been the one needing it.
But if he did what he wanted, what she obviously wanted, if he made the first move, would that be different?
Remus was beyond caring at that point.
He silently got up, standing at the foot of the bed and appreciating her form. He climbed onto the bed. She must have felt his presence at the dip of the mattress but she didn’t open her eyes. He placed his hands on her thighs, easing her legs apart, and with a wolfish grin he thrust his tongue into her cunt.
Hermione gasped out loud, her back arching off the bed. Remus teased her with languorous licks and light nibbles. He eased a finger into her as he sucked on her clit, making her hips jerk. She writhed at his touch, needing more. He tormented her, bringing her close to the edge but not letting her fall, removing his finger and mouth.
He slowly eased up her body, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses on her tingling skin. He paused at her chest, giving her breasts extra attention, caressing and licking and sucking. He moved his mouth up to her neck as he settled his body over hers.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, desperate for him. He paused, staring into her bright brown eyes below him. She looked back and when he gently touched her cheek with his fingertips, a tear escaped the corner of her eye, cascading down her temple.
Remus kept his eyes on hers as he tenderly wiped the tear away. And then he leant down and kissed her, thrusting his tongue and cock into her at the same time.
Hermione locked her legs tighter around him, urging him deeper. He moved inside her, fast and deep, Hermione grasping at his back for purchase. The bed moved with them, stopping only after they had both climaxed, screaming out loud before Remus collapsed atop her, their sweaty skin sliding together.
He tried to rationalise it. He tried to make sense of the dichotomy. But he couldn’t reconcile the image of the calm and detached Hermione he saw every day with the image of the desperate and raw Hermione, crying his name as she orgasmed.
Maybe he was over-thinking it. They may have both been bitten but that didn’t mean they had to deal with the after-effects the same way. Maybe she really was dealing with it. Maybe behind closed doors she was dealing with her new life and she didn’t want to tell or show him anything to do with the healing process for fear of increasing his guilt.
Was Hermione that good of a person? Would she really be so concerned with his feelings that she would alter her entire being around it? Surely not even Hermione could be that good of a person.
Something had to give.
The look on her face he would never forget. She had been reading, of course, and didn’t notice the sound of someone knocking at the front door. If she had’ve thought about it she would have assumed it was McGonagall, dropping off their potion for the evenings full moon.
So when Harry said hello, the look on Hermione’s face as she looked up in disbelief was something Remus would remember for the rest of his life.
She grinned, standing from the chair and hastening to her best friend, almost knocking him over in the enthusiasm of her hug, making him laugh. Her first question had been to ask what he was doing here. Harry sobered, telling her that he was delivering their Wolfsbane.
Remus subtly watched as her expression faltered. She turned to him, telling him to excuse her and Harry while they caught up. Remus smiled at them as they left the room.
He sincerely hoped that the presence of Harry, even if only for an hour, would affect her in some way. Surely seeing her oldest and best friend would shock her out of her stupor. To realise all that she had missed would hopefully get her to deal with her unresolved feelings about her situation.
Remus waited in the lounge while Harry and Hermione reacquainted themselves in the next room. He could hear the low murmur of their voices but no laughter and no crying. Just constant conversation. He privately hoped Harry was getting through to Hermione, since it was becoming obvious that she would not open up to him, despite there being no one else around to confide in.
An hour later, Harry emerged, alone. Remus stood and went to him. Without preamble Harry told him that after several subtle and not-so-subtle attempts at getting her to open up about her feelings about her change he had gotten nothing from her.
Harry was cold and analytical in his explanation. Remus sighed. He began to apologise, wanting so badly to explain how eternally sorry he was about what had happened to Hermione. But Harry cut him off with a wave of the hand, not wanting to hear it. He said he had come here only for Hermione and was now leaving, walking away without looking back.
Remus sighed. He slowly wandered over to the table where Harry had left two goblets of thick potion. He picked up a goblet and drank it, placing the empty goblet back next to the full one. Looking at Hermione’s potion, an idea began to form.
Remus cradled his head in his hands, his elbows braced on his knees. He was praying for strength.
He looked up at the sound of his bedroom door opening and closing. He automatically stood up, meeting her eyes, and he could feel his strength faltering. He took a deep breath.
In an instant Hermione had her lips to his and her hands were clawing at his clothes. He didn’t respond to her but she barely seemed to notice. Gathering every ounce of strength in his body, Remus wrapped his long fingers around her wrists, stilling her hands as he leaned his head back, breaking the kiss.
She looked at him, her forehead crinkling in genuine confusion. “What?”
He shook his head. “No, Hermione. We can’t.”
She took a small step back. “No?” she repeated, as though she sincerely thought she had simply misheard him.
His head was hung low, averting his eyes from hers as he shook his head. She yanked her wrists out of his grasp and he snapped his head up at that. Her expression was hard, her eyes fiery as she said, her voice harsh, “You don’t get to say ‘no’. Not after what you did to me.”
“Hermione-“
“No,” she cut him off with a firm word and shake of the head. She poked her index finger into his chest. “You don’t get to deny me, Remus. You have to do what I want.”
“Hermione-“
She pushed his chest hard, pushing him back onto the bed. She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, grabbing at his top. He swiped at her hands, fighting her. She wouldn’t be deterred, tearing his top, the rip of the material loud in the room. She kept grasping, kept fighting, and Remus soon realised she had started to cry. He reached out, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tight to his chest. She tried to fight him, tried to escape his embrace, but his arms were strong and he wouldn’t let her go. She started sobbing, repeatedly screaming out loud just one word.
Why?
Remus held her as she cried, his lips pressed to her temple. Her breath was warm on his skin, such a contrast to her cool tears. She clutched fiercely at him, no longer in anger but in desperation.
He didn’t say ‘I’m sorry’, though his mind repeatedly screamed it. He whispered words of comfort against her hair, ignoring his own tears.
He hated that she was in pain but he was also glad that she was finally dealing with what had happened.
Their house became void of laughter or smiles. Remus let her deal with it how she wanted, letting her know he was there for her if she needed to talk.
He asked her for walks and read to her by the fireplace. He engaged her in general conversation. But he never pushed. If he could tell she didn’t feel like his company he left. If she stopped responding in their conversation he stopped talking. He was happy to do it her way.
Remus awoke after the transformation more tired than the night before. He arched his neck, trying to glimpse the clock on his bedside table.
It was later than he usually slept. He slowly got up off the floor and grabbed his nearby pyjamas and put them on.
Sitting on his bed, he could hear a noise emanating from the kitchen. Hermione. He grabbed a robe and threw it on as he stumbled groggily down the hallway.
He leaned on the frame of the doorway as he watched her bustle about the kitchen. She registered his presence after a few moments, smiling briefly in his direction before continuing to prepare breakfast for them.
When she had finished setting all the food down Remus finally entered the kitchen. She yawned, sitting at the table and pouring some orange juice for them as Remus sat down at the table.
She handed him a glass and when their fingers brushed, Remus couldn’t help but think about their usual post-transformation contact. But the fact she wasn’t throwing herself at him in some kind of desperate need for catharsis was a good thing, now that she was dealing in a more healthy way.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked some time later.
She looked up from her plate. Smiling brightly, a little too brightly, she said, “Fine.”
When Hermione saw Ron she burst into tears. She stood up, sobbing as she rushed forward and threw her arms around him. Ron placed his hands firm on her back as she shook in his arms.
Remus sadly watched on, meeting Ron’s troubled eyes over Hermione’s bushy head.
After a few minutes Hermione came out of Ron’s embrace, her lips still trembling as Ron wiped away her tears. She glanced back to Remus and for the briefest of seconds their eyes met and his stomach dropped. Her eyes were red and her skin was pale and she was clearly devastated and damaged but despite all of this, or maybe because of it, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
And he was in love with her.
Remus watched as Hermione drank the potion Ron had delivered for them before the two old friends escaped into another room to catch up in private. He ran his hands over his face, feeling the onset of the full moon in his bones.
Remus and Hermione slowly strolled around the edge of their property. They were talking about nothing really, nothing of significance anyway. But Remus could see that Hermione was in better spirits today and that she was slowly starting to improve and when she smiled at his bad jokes and laughed at his good ones she really meant it.
It was late, the moon bright in the sky. Hermione put her arm through his as they walked, resting her head on his upper arm. Remus smiled as she snuggled closer to him, yawning sleepily.
Remus was sitting in bed, leaning against the headboard of his bed and reading.
The creak of his door opening surprised him. He looked up and Hermione was standing in the doorway, wringing her hands and looking at him shyly. She closed the door behind her, entering the room and moving to the side of his bed.
Remus just looked at her, surprised and confused by her sudden appearance in his room. She picked up the edge of the blanket, sliding in between the sheets, resting the blankets in her lap.
He bookmarked his page and placed his book on the bedside table, turning back to Hermione and giving her his full attention. She was staring at her hands which were wringing in her lap.
Hermione went to speak, but clearly thought better of whatever it was she was about to say. Remus just sat there and waited for her. At length Hermione said, her voice quiet and apologetic, “I’m sorry things have been so horrible around here lately.”
“I’m not,” Remus replied, surprising her. She looked up at him. “I’m glad you have finally been dealing with what has happened. Don’t get me wrong, I hate seeing you in pain, but it’s good that you have finally been dealing. A tense atmosphere at home is a small price to pay if it means you are healing.”
She smiled bashfully at him. “Remus, there is something I want to say to you, but I am only going to say it once so you have to promise me that you will listen and believe me.”
“Of course.”
“Promise me, Remus.”
He nodded. “I promise.”
She shifted a bit closer to him, turning her body so she was facing him better. She looked him in the eyes and made sure he was pinned under her stare, wanting him to see the truth in her eyes. “What happened to me, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do this to me, he did. You had no control over what happened that night. It’s like…” she trailed off as her mind searched for an appropriate analogy. “It’s like blaming someone under the Imperius curse for their actions. It’s not their fault or intent what they do under the spell, no more than it was your fault or intent to bite me when Greyback put us both in that cell. Okay?”
Remus nodded mutely. She smiled at him, slowly reaching out and placing her hand on his stubbled cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen down his cheek. She ran her thumb lightly over his cheek, her eyes locked on his as she slowly leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
It was a slow and sensuous kiss, their lips sliding together for a moment before their mouths opened to each other and their tongues met.
Remus broke the kiss, his eyes searching hers for answers to his unspoken question. “Hermione-”
“You know what I realised these last nine weeks?” she interrupted.
Remus shook his head.
“I need you. And it’s not just because you know what I am going through, although I’m sure that’s part of it. But it’s like … those times we were together … it’s like my body and my subconscious knew I needed you before my heart did.” She leaned forward, briefly kissing his lips. “You have had it so much worse than me, Remus. With everything that happened with Harry’s parents and Sirius and all the prejudice you have encountered in your life, for you to be as strong and genuine and kind as you are is amazing. You are the best example I could possibly have.”
Hermione inched closer to him, taking his larger hand in hers.
“You’re my salvation, Remus,” she said softly.
Remus smiled shakily at her, reaching up and cupping her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers.
She sighed at the touch of his tongue to hers. They wrapped their arms around each other as the kiss deepened. They lay down on the bed, Remus leaning over Hermione.
They were content just to kiss for a few minutes. Their previous couplings had been so raw and intense and they both wanted this time to be different. Remus kissed his way slowly down the pale column of her neck, running his hand over her chest. Hermione arched up under his touch, trembling when he pushed up her t-shirt and his fingertips caressed her stomach.
Remus looked into Hermione’s eyes and was relieved to see she looked as nervous as he felt. Which was ridiculous, they had done this three times already, why should they be nervous? But he knew; it was because it was different this time. It wasn’t just people clawing at each other in a desperate attempt to connect to their humanity. It was something more.
He put his mouth to her stomach, marvelling at the softness of her skin. He pushed her top up over her head, throwing the fabric aside. She helped him remove his own top, rolling them over so he was beneath her. Their chests pressed together and his hands were soft on her back as they kissed.
She ran her hand down his chest before pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest and stomach. She slowly explored every inch of him before working her way up back to his mouth, kissing him as she pushed his pants down his legs, Remus kicking them off.
They rolled back, Remus atop Hermione. He took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. He removed her shorts and underwear as he moved his mouth down her velvet stomach. She kicked off the material before Remus settled himself between her legs.
Their mouths met in a searing kiss as their bodies pressed together, the skin on skin contact amazing. Remus had a hand on her neck as he ran his other hand down her chest, over her side to her leg, guiding her leg up to wrap around him. Hermione snaked a hand between them as her legs enveloped his hips, crossing at the ankle. She grasped him in her hand, running her hand up and down his length, Remus moaning into her mouth at the contact.
He broke their kiss, Hermione releasing him and wrapping her arms around him. They looked at each other as Remus entered her, Hermione crying out at the sensation.
They kept looking at each other as he slowly began moving inside her. She wrapped her legs more firmly around him, wanting him deeper. She met his thrusts, her hips moving with him. Remus pressed his forehead to hers, moaning at the sensation of them together.
Hermione grasped at his back with one hand, bringing the other down to lace her fingers through his where they rested on her shoulder. Their glistening bodies moved faster together as they got closer.
Remus put his head into the crook of her shoulder. Hermione panted, her breath tickling his ear. They grasped desperately at each other, pressing their bodies together as they both came, crying each others name.
Remus collapsed atop her. He breathed heavily against her warm skin, trying his best to keep as much weight off her body as he could. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, pressing her lips to his hair.
He rolled off her, pulling her with him, into his arms. They lay together, Hermione with her hand on his heart and Remus with his hand to her back, lightly trailing his fingertips up and down the smooth plane of her back.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, making her smile into his chest.
A few hours later, with Hermione sleeping in his arms, Remus kissed her head, whispering into her hair, “You’re my salvation, Hermione.”
Remus slowly opened his eyes. Sunlight was flooding his bedroom so he turned his head away from the bright light, his eyes settling on Hermione.
She was still asleep, lying on her stomach with her hand idly resting on his upper arm. He moved closer to her, placing a palm on her bare back. He placed his head next to hers on the pillow, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as his hand gently ran up and down her back.
She smiled in her sleep, instinctively moving closer to him.
He stared at her face for a long moment, her skin soft under his hand.
It was, quite literally, the best moment of Remus’ life.
