THIRTY-TWO
13TH SEPTEMBER 1995
The floorboard creaked as Remus set foot inside Grimauld Place, the hallway swallowed in darkness. Hermione and Padfoot must already have turned in for the night. He quickly cast a silencing charm around himself, hoping to avoid any more noise. The day had been a whirlwind of catastrophic drama and emotions he didn't want to face—least of all a lecture from Hermione for being gone so long.
As he took two steps up the stairs, a sound from behind made him freeze, his hand instinctively grabbing his wand. He spun, pointing it toward the source. Standing in front of him was Hermione, furious, her chocolate-brown gaze burning with vexation. Her hair was loose, tumbling over her shoulders, and her nightgown swayed slightly as she crossed her arms, making her stance all the more threatening.
Before Remus could say a word, she marched forward, tugging violently at his ear and dragging him toward the kitchen. He stumbled inside, narrowly avoiding knocking over a chair. Sirius was already there, half-asleep and slouched in a chair, his groggy eyes barely focusing as he watched them enter.
The silence between the three of them stretched for a few seconds before Hermione broke it, her voice sharp and shaking with restrained fury.
“Explain!” she demanded.
Remus’s heart pounded as his mind raced for something to say, anything to defuse the situation. He couldn’t look her in the eye. His gaze flitted to the floor, the edge of the table—anywhere but her piercing stare. “Explain what?” he asked, feigning innocence, though his throat tightened with guilt. He knew exactly what she wanted to know.
Hermione’s eyes flashed dangerously, her patience worn thin by the act. “You’ve been gone all day! I woke up to find the bed empty, with nothing but a note saying you’d be late. Late means after lunch, not the middle of the bloody night!” Her voice trembled slightly, and Remus knew that her anger wasn’t just frustration—it was fear, buried under her words. “Job hunting? That should take an hour or two, at most. You already have a job, Remus! What on earth could you need another for? And with everything going on, I’ve been worried sick. You know this!” She paused, her voice dropping lower, her next words thick with emotion. “Do you have any idea how scared I’ve been?”
Remus’s chest tightened. He felt like the walls were closing in. His heart ached seeing Hermione like this, but he couldn’t tell her the truth—not now, not about everything. “I... I’m sorry,” he mumbled, the lie struggling to escape his lips. “I went to the Ministry, I thought—” He couldn’t meet her eyes. His gaze remained fixed on the worn wooden floor as he forced out the words. “I was looking for something... more stable for us.”
Sirius straightened in his chair, now fully awake, but didn’t interrupt. Hermione, however, took a step closer, her frustration mounting. “Remus,” she said slowly, her voice dangerously calm, “look at me.”
He hesitated but didn’t lift his gaze. His stomach twisted with guilt. He couldn’t look at her, not with the lie sitting between them.
“You weren’t job hunting, were you?” Hermione’s voice was cold now, a sharp contrast to the heat of her earlier anger. “You can’t even look me in the eye.”
Remus felt a wave of panic rise within him, and he opened his mouth, desperate to salvage the situation. “I—”
“Don’t lie to me,” she cut him off, her tone laced with warning. “We’ve been through too much for you to keep me in the dark like this. Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t know how the Ministry treats you? They don’t keep people there for hours, Remus, and certainly not you—not after everything that’s happened.”
Remus felt his shoulders sag under the weight of her words. He knew she was right, but admitting it would only lead to more questions—questions he wasn’t ready to answer. “Hermione, I just thought if I could find something more secure, it would help. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“You’ve been gone all day,” Hermione repeated, her voice faltering slightly. “You know what we’re up against. You know what’s coming.” Her voice softened, though the anger still lingered. “I’m not mad because you’re late, Remus. I’m mad because you disappeared. I’ve seen what could happen. I’ve seen the future. And every time you pull something like this, I feel like it’s one step closer to becoming real.”
Sirius finally spoke, his voice low and raspy. “She’s right, Moony.” He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table as he fixed Remus with a knowing look. “You’ve got to stop doing this. The war isn’t over yet, and Hermione’s already seen enough to know what we could lose. You disappearing all day doesn’t just make her angry—it scares the hell out of her.”
Remus felt his throat tighten, but he couldn’t answer. He had no excuse, no valid reason to give them that would make this right. The truth wasn’t something he could share, and the lie he’d concocted only made things worse. He swallowed hard, but the guilt clung to him, choking any response that might have come.
Hermione shook her head slowly, as if disappointed rather than angry now. “I can’t do this tonight,” she muttered. “I’m going to bed.” Her voice cracked at the end, and without waiting for a response, she turned and left the kitchen, her footsteps echoing down the hall and up the stairs.
Remus stood frozen, staring at the empty doorway where Hermione had disappeared. His hands trembled slightly, and the knot of guilt in his chest tightened further.
Sirius sighed, pushing himself up from his seat. He watched Remus for a long moment, his expression softening. “She’s not just angry, you know. She’s terrified. Terrified because of what she’s seen.” He gave Remus a tired look. “You disappearing all day—it’s not just reckless, Moony. It makes her think she’s going to lose you….. it makes me think I’m going to lose you.”
Remus finally lifted his gaze, meeting Sirius’s eyes, but he couldn’t find the words to respond. His throat felt tight, and the weight of Hermione’s fear settled heavily on his mind.
“Go upstairs,” Sirius said quietly, his voice softer now. “She’s waiting for you. And stop giving her reasons to be scared.”
Remus nodded silently, his body heavy with exhaustion and regret. Sirius clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, heading toward the stairs himself. “Good night, Moony,” he murmured before disappearing up the steps.
For a long moment, Remus remained where he stood, staring at the empty kitchen. His mind raced, but there was no escaping the truth of what he had done. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he turned off the lights and made his way upstairs.
When he reached their bedroom, he found Hermione already under the covers, her back to him. He hesitated in the doorway, feeling the vast distance between them despite their physical proximity. Quietly, he slipped into bed beside her, lying still in the silence of the room.
He wanted to say something, to apologize again, to explain why he’d done what he had, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Not tonight.
So instead, he reached out and gently took her hand beneath the blanket. She didn’t pull away.
It wasn’t forgiveness. But it was a start.
The silence in the room was palpable, a thick blanket of tension that smothered any semblance of comfort. Remus lay on his side, his back turned to Hermione, though he could feel the warmth radiating from her body just inches away. The events of the evening played in his mind like a haunting melody, and sleep remained elusive. He could hear the soft rustle of her movements, a constant reminder of the distance he had created between them.
Remus stared at the wall, tracing the patterns in the peeling paint with his eyes. The weight of the day pressed down on him, each moment filled with regret and guilt for what he hadn’t been able to share with Hermione. He had wanted to protect her, to shield her from the darkness that seemed to encroach upon their lives, but instead, he had pushed her away. His heart ached at the thought, and he knew he couldn’t continue like this.
With a deep breath, he turned to face her, the moonlight filtering through the window casting soft shadows across her features. “Hermione?” he whispered, his voice barely breaking the stillness.
She didn’t turn to him immediately, her back still facing him, but he could sense her awareness. “What is it?” she replied, her tone calm yet distant. There was a hesitance in her voice that made his heart sink further.
“I’m sorry,” he said, the words tumbling from his lips like a desperate plea. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I never wanted to put you through this.” He paused, hoping his sincerity would reach her, hoping she would understand.
Hermione shifted slightly, her posture still guarded. “I know you didn’t,” she said, her voice steady despite the vulnerability beneath. “But I can’t help but feel scared when you’re not around. It’s not just about the danger. It’s about losing you. I’d have expected something like this from Sirius but not you.”
The confession struck him like a physical blow. He reached out, brushing his fingertips against her shoulder, wanting to close the gap between them. “You won’t lose me, Hermione. I swear it,” he murmured, feeling a deep ache in his chest at the thought of her pain. “I just... I don’t know how to navigate this without dragging you into the darkness.”
Slowly, she turned to face him, her chocolate-brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The sight of her distress twisted the knife of guilt deeper into his heart. “It’s not about dragging me into the darkness, Remus. It’s about sharing the burden. We’re in this together, remember?” She took a breath, her gaze intense. “I need you to let me in.”
The weight of her words hung between them, heavy with unspoken promises and fears. In that moment, he realized how much he craved her closeness. “I’ll try,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Without breaking their gaze, Hermione leaned in closer, the air between them charged with an electric tension. “You’re not alone, Remus,” she said softly, her breath warm against his lips. “You never have to be.”
And then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, she closed the distance. Their lips met softly at first, a gentle exploration that ignited a fire deep within him. Remus felt his heart race as she deepened the kiss, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer, as though she were trying to erase all the doubts that lingered between them.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her body flush against his, savoring the warmth and the sweet intimacy that enveloped them. The kiss grew more passionate, more urgent, as their insecurities melted away, leaving only the raw need for each other. Hermione pressed against him, her body responding to his touch as their kisses became hungrier, a desperate search for reassurance in each other.
As she leaned into him, Remus felt every worry, every doubt slip away. The chaos of the outside world faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of them entwined in this moment of solace. Their lips moved together with a practiced ease, as if they had done this a thousand times before, and yet each kiss felt like the first—electrifying and profound.
With a quiet gasp, Hermione pulled back slightly, her breath mingling with his, both of them panting softly. “I’ve missed this,” she murmured, her voice thick with longing. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” he replied, his heart pounding as he gazed into her eyes, feeling the intensity of their connection. “More than you know.” The sincerity in his voice was palpable, resonating through the air like a vow.
They shared another kiss, this one deeper, filled with the unspoken promises of what they could build together amidst the chaos surrounding them. As they surrendered to the moment, Remus felt a wave of guilt crash over him, a reminder of the weight he carried on his shoulders. He should be protecting her, not pulling her into this mess of danger and uncertainty.
He gently broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, his heart still racing. “Hermione,” he started, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t want to drag you into this. You deserve so much more than this... chaos.”
Her expression softened, her eyes filled with understanding. “You’re not dragging me anywhere. I choose to be here, Remus. I choose to be with you.” Her hand cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing over his skin, grounding him in the moment. “we both need this, remember”
Remus’s heart swelled at her words, but the guilt lingered, an unwelcome shadow in the corner of his mind. He felt like a fool for not being able to shake it off. “I just... I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. “Not now. Not ever.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she reassured him, her voice steady, but there was a vulnerability in her gaze that mirrored his own fears. “We’re in this together, remember?”
Hermione leaned in again, this time with an urgency that stole his breath. Their lips met once more, more insistent now, as if they were trying to merge their very souls. He responded instinctively, deepening the kiss, losing himself in the taste of her—sweet and familiar. It was a kiss that spoke of love, of shared fears, and of the promise of tomorrow.
As the kiss continued, Remus could feel his body responding to her, a heat spreading through him that chased away the lingering chill of guilt. He pulled her closer, their bodies fitting together perfectly as if they were two halves of a whole. Her hands tangled in his hair, and he could feel her heartbeat against his chest, steady and reassuring.
Time seemed to stretch, each second blending into the next until they were lost in the world of their own making. But as they finally broke apart, the reality of their situation crashed back over him like a wave. Remus looked into Hermione’s eyes, filled with warmth and love, but he couldn’t shake the knot of guilt that tightened in his chest.
As they lay there, their hearts racing and breaths mingling, Remus felt the weight of his guilt slowly begin to lift, replaced by a burgeoning hope. He allowed himself to sink into the moment, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer, wanting to savor every second they had together.
Eventually, they settled back into the sheets, Remus pulling her against him, wanting to shield her from the world outside. As the warmth of her body enveloped him, the fatigue from the day began to settle over him like a comforting blanket.
But even as he felt himself slipping into the welcoming embrace of sleep, the guilt lingered like a dark cloud on the horizon. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the darkness was never far behind, and that thought twisted his heart, a reminder of everything he had put her through.
He vowed silently to fight not just for himself, but for all three of them, no matter the cost. As he drifted into a deep slumber, the guilt gnawed at him, a persistent reminder of the battle that lay ahead.
As the morning sun streamed through the half-drawn curtains, its golden rays warmed the room, casting a soft glow over the tangled sheets where Remus and Hermione lay entwined. The air was thick with the remnants of their shared intimacy from the night before, but as he stirred awake, Remus felt the familiar knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. He blinked against the brightness, taking a moment to savor the sight of Hermione, her hair fanned across the pillow, cheeks slightly flushed from sleep.
Her tranquil expression brought a smile to his lips, a fleeting moment of peace before the weight of reality crashed back in. They had been through so much, and he had only added to her worry with his absence. He couldn’t keep hiding the truth from her, not after everything they had shared.
“Hermione,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He turned on his side, propping himself up on one elbow, watching as she stirred awake, her eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze.
“Morning,” she murmured, a sleepy smile breaking across her face, momentarily dispelling the remnants of tension from the night before. The sight of her brightened his heart, but the guilt still simmered just below the surface.
He hesitated, a rush of conflicting emotions swirling inside him. “We need to talk,” he began, the weight of his confession hanging in the air like a thick fog.
Her smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of concern that made his heart ache. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her brow furrowing. “You look serious.”
Remus took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to reveal. “I think I went on a date with Nymphadora,”