Chapter 15

Remus watched his witch lock him in, leaving the key in the bag she'd packed for him. Her kindness knew no bounds when it came to him, and he was forced, yet again, to question what he had done to deserve such an amazing, thoughtful, sweet...

He heaved a sigh. The truth was he didn't deserve her. But he wasn't going to give her up now that he had her.

Remus hated his muted sense of smell. This close to the full moon, he should have been practically attacking her, if the days leading up to it were any indication. It was pretty evident that his libido was directly tied to the phases of the moon. But without being able to smell the scent of his mate, the wolf in him was as tame as it had been before he'd claimed her. He found he missed the feral side of himself. He always felt so free, so in control when he was acting on instinct, which was distinctly oppositional to everything he'd thought he'd known about himself. He'd always restrained the beast, denigrated and abhorred it. But now he came to realise he might have been denying the inevitable.

He could also predict his transformation using his sense of smell, and it was unnerving to not know when it would hit him. Unlike last moon, this time Remus had faithfully taken the Wolfsbane and was looking forward to a change without raw animalism.

The shift came over him like a fire, lighting his nerves and flooding his body from the inside out. Piercing pain speared him, bones cracking, flesh shifting, and hair sprouting. The elongation of his jaw blinded him momentarily as his eyesight refocused.

Panting on the floor like the animal he was, Remus tried to regain his senses. He automatically took short breaths through his nose to make sense of his surroundings, but halted when he remembered what he'd done. It was horrible. It was like he couldn't figure out where he was, what was happening. He felt vulnerable. Remus howled, long and low, wishing his mate was here to comfort him. Without even an ounce of her scent, the wolf felt as though she'd left him forever.

Remembering why he'd taken the Olfactory Obstruction potion in the first place did nothing to alleviate his despair. He was glad she was safe, safe from him, but he needed her. Needed to know she was okay, alive, his. Like this, he wouldn't be able to smell if she had another's scent on her. The thought made him growl low in his throat. He wanted to lunge at the bars of the cell, his wolf form even going so far as to claw at them mercilessly, but he knew he couldn't escape.

This time his howl was plaintive and ended with a whimper as he curled into the blankets in the corner of his cage.

*

A chill ran through Hermione at the second howl. She'd never known Remus to make noises like that while transformed. As far as she knew, he usually slept through most of it. It was breaking her heart, and she didn't know how long she could lay in bed chasing sleep and listening to him.

She really didn't know why he was so worried about her presence. He kept his mind with the Wolfsbane. And she was his mate! She was supposed to be there for him in his times of need. Wouldn't a werewolf's mate be the perfect companion during the full moon? Wasn't that part of her purpose in the first place?

Convinced she was right, Hermione slipped a pair of snug shorts over her underwear, grabbed a tank top from her dresser and made her way downstairs.

Once in the cellar, she stood outside the last door, slightly nervous. Although she wholly believed Remus had been overreacting, she didn't want to anger him, in wolf or human form. And he'd remember that she'd been there. He might yell at her, or worse, ignore her.

She bit her lip, worrying it. The wolf on the other side of the door had stilled, the restless pacing ceasing. She sighed. Even if he hadn't been on the potion, he would be able to smell her scent as his mate, and he wouldn't hurt her. She felt certain of that fact. The Wolfsbane was additional insurance against a danger she didn't believe existed.

She opened the door slowly and stepped into the dark room. She whispered a small lumos, just enough to set a soft glow around the room. She couldn't see the wolf, but she did see two green glows. His eyes. She placed her lit wand on the chair that sat outside the cell and approached it. He was watching her movements intently, not a hair bristling.

Upon reaching the cage, she dropped to her knees to know submission. Even if the wolf was Remus, he still had many basal instincts, and she would be wise to remember that. She huddled close to the ground, her neck bared and cheek against the cold stone, legs bent beneath her.

The wolf made a huffing noise and walked up to her on his side of the cage. He sniffed her for a long time before making a whining noise that made her heart clench. She didn't know what it meant, but she didn't move.

Finally, he gave a quiet bark, backing up and kicking his back legs against the floor. He stopped, looked at her, and barked again. She remained still, wishing she had a wolf dictionary or something.

Then the wolf came back up to the cell bars and lied down on its stomach, paws coming through the bars, close to her hands. He rested his head on his arms, his snout poking through the bars. He was looking at her so sadly; it gave a new meaning to 'puppy dog eyes.' He whimpered again, and she braved raising her head.

"Remus?" she whispered. He woofed quietly, tail wagging. She grinned widely, and so, it seemed, did he.

She reached out slowly and let him sniff her hand. He licked it a few times and she moved to pet his head. His fur was soft and rough at the same time, and she found she quite liked the feel of it. He held very still, allowing her to stroke him without moving; only his eyes followed her and his tail moved back and forth.

"I'm sorry I broke my promise. I heard you howl, and I knew you needed me," she said quietly, trying to find Remus within those doleful brown eyes. His tail slowed a bit, but nothing else happened, and she wasn't sure why she had expected a response.

She turned onto her side, her knees beginning to bother her because of the hard floor. She lay down facing the cage, with her hand always rubbing Remus' fur. He really was beautiful, a dark gold colour all over, and very, very large.

She leaned over to place a kiss on his snout, and he returned it by giving her a long lick up the side of her face. She laughed and wiped her cheek before curling up again. She would sleep here, now that she was already with him. She really wanted to be in the cage with him, but she didn't think he would like that very much. Maybe next moon.

*

Remus awoke with the customary raging headache. He tried to stretch gently, his body protesting against the move, popping and cracking. He was immediately flooded with the scent of his mate, and he almost cried in relief.

Though the potion wasn't supposed to have worn off until sometime in the early hours of the next morning, he suspected it had been metabolised faster because of his lycanthropy. He should have thought of that...what might have happened if it had worn off while he was still a wolf?

He had wanted to be angry with her. When he'd heard her come down the stairs, he'd been prepared to either ignore her entirely or growl at her angrily. But seeing her so sweet and submissive in her little pink shorts and white top made him forget his ire completely in favour of playing the puppy. The wolf in him had wanted to establish dominance, and if she'd been within the cage instead of outside it, he suspected he would not have been able to keep his desires at bay. He'd wanted to pin her down, hold her throat in his jaws and, yes, mate with her.

Even with the Wolfsbane, he was a dangerous creature.

But instead, he'd goofed around and tried to play with her as if he was a six-week-old Labrador instead of a werewolf three times her size.

It had been disconcerting to not be able to smell his mate, even though he saw her right in front of him. But it was worth it to keep her safe, and having her sleep beside him made for the most peaceful full moon he'd ever known. It was a complete one-eighty from the last moon, through which he'd suffered and struggled.

Looking at her now through the bars, Remus simultaneously cursed and thanked the gods. She was sleeping, snoring lightly, which was most likely due to her position as she did not normally make a peep... except those delicious little moaning noises, sometimes...

Remus felt blood pool in his cock. He wasn't usually so damn horny the morning after a full moon, but now that he could smell her sweet, earthy smell, he wanted her.

He watched her breasts rise and fall, her nipples peaked in the chilly, slightly damp cellar air. She was on her back, knees bent but twisted to rest on the floor beside her, body turned somewhat awkwardly. Remus could see the bottom of her arse cheeks as her shorts had ridden up, and her midriff was bared as well. All that exposed skin made his mouth water, but what made his thoughts turn the corner from appreciation to lust was the way her head was turned away from him, her neck bared, pale and long, and his claim mark standing in vivid relief. He thought selfishly that he hoped it never fully healed.

He reached an arm through the bar to caress her ankle and foot, the only part he could reach. He could, of course, get the key from the bag she'd left him, let himself out, and join her. But a part of him wanted her to come into the cell with him, like she had last time. He wanted her to clean him and tend to him like before. He wanted to know his mate still wanted him, that she wanted to take care of him. If she came into the cage, she came into his world, instead of bringing him into hers. It was an acceptance that he'd never gotten from anyone else, and he realised that it was that journey into his true life that had changed his feelings for her, even before he'd claimed her.

Remus stood up, trying not to groan as his body's discomfort made itself known. It was true that he could put a bed or at least a pallet of some sort in the cell, but half of him was afraid to destroy it, and the other half... the other half believed he was paying penance, the pain his just desserts.

After donning only his trousers, he lay down on the long bench, only slightly more comfortable than the stone floor. He was on his back, watching his mate sleep soundly, when she stirred. Her arms stretched over her head, her back arching to an impossible degree as she worked out the soreness in her body. Her breasts pointed heavenward, her stomach flat and tight from the position that was entirely too sexual for Remus to be uninterested.

She turned onto her side, her hair a wild halo, her face pale but smiling in the dim light. Her soft brown eyes opened, focusing unerringly on him. He let her look over him, quickly assessing him for damage. It was true that the last time she'd seen him he'd been a bloody wreck, quite literally. This time, with the help of the Wolfsbane, he had only minor scrapes and bruises, most of which would clear up in record time.

She must have approved of what she saw, because she smiled softly, and Remus' heart clenched at that simplest of expressions.

"Hey," she whispered, smiling a little at the absurdity of sleeping on the floor, three stories below her perfectly capable bed.

He nodded lightly at her, not trusting his voice after his howls the night before. His body usually took some time to readjust after a transformation. His eyes, his hearing, his sense of smell and taste and even touch all remained highly sensitised for some time afterward.

Hermione crawled a few paces over to the bag with the key. She unlocked the cell door and put the bag in, crawling in after it.