Chapter 18

When Hermione finally awoke on the couch, the room was dark, she was covered in a thin blanket, and the smelling of burning assailed her.

Sniffing the air, she decided it was only food and not the house, so she could afford to get dressed before she went to investigate the odour. Her clothes were wrinkled and not quite fresh smelling, but the study didn't exactly contain a variety of garments from which to choose, so she would have to settle for a freshening charm.

Padding into the kitchen, she watched as Remus threw a smoking frying pan into the sink and swore vociferously. He turned on the cold water and the smoke thickened before dying out. Pouting quite prettily, she watched Remus yank open the fridge door and take out... yep. Sandwich meats.

"Want me to whip something up?" she asked in a tone that she hoped was helpful and not condescending. The man really did need to learn how to cook.

"Oh, Hermione! Sure, if you'd like. I was only going to make a sandwich for myself. I thought you'd sleep a while longer."

Stretching obscenely, she walked over for a kiss, breaking it before he was inspired to take her again. Her body just wasn't used to the attention, and she needed some recovery time.

"I'll just make some soup, a salad, and maybe some rice if you're in the mood. What time is it?"

"It's around seven. We slept nearly all day... well, with a couple interludes, so to speak."

Allowing him his innuendo, Hermione set to putting a makeshift dinner together. She looked forlornly at the abused frying pan and asked, "What was this?"

Remus shrugged. "We'll never really know."

Nevertheless, he cleaned it and helped with dinner. They decided to eat in the sitting room, Hermione's bottom too sore to withstand the wooden kitchen chair.

"I want to look at that book after dinner," she informed him. "I wanted to earlier, but then Harry came, and..." she trailed off, pointedly ignoring Remus' smirk.

"I hope it has something useful, though I can't imagine it will."

They finished eating in companionable silence, and Remus cleared away the dishes while Hermione finally sat down with the book.

Cracking it, she smiled at the sound of Remus puttering in the kitchen. She'd never expected to enjoy the domestic life with Remus, thinking one could have either passion or friendship but never both. Now she knew better, and Remus was proof that a man could be both sweet and generous, and sexual and wild. Absently touching her claim mark, Hermione went straight to the chapter on Mating Rituals and Ceremonies of Old.

Just as Remus had told her and as she'd read before, werewolves used to perform a binding ceremony, not unlike a wedding, which solidified the bond and settled the magic of the two partners. It was a fairly simple affair, involving an incantation, witnesses, and an exchange of intentions. After that, the pair was as good as mated for life.

The author, Lycansmythe, spoke a little on the way this procedure had become outdated and eventually unnecessary. He mentioned that very few werewolves still adhered to the old binding, but that it was an important part of werewolf culture that should not be overlooked.

When Hermione began the chapter on Pre-mating and the Werewolf's Community, her fingertips went cold with shock.

Once a werewolf has recognised his mate in another, whether the mate is human or lycanthrope, the community will instinctively act to bring the pair together. This often includes altering or obliterating any obstacles in the way of the mating. Some instances of this include pack members banding together to purchase a home for the werewolf so he or she can live with his or her chosen mate, or pack members driving away a werewolf or human that is standing between the mating, such as an unhelpful family member or previous partner. These actions, even when evident in non-werewolf community members, are sometimes so basic that the act may be completely unconscious. There have been situations wherein a werewolf is intimately involved with another community member and then recognises his or her mate in another person. The partner may then be compelled to break ties with the werewolf so the werewolf will be free to pursue his or her mate.

In conclusion, the werewolf's community, made up of werewolf, human, or other species, will subconsciously recognise the bond between a werewolf and his mate and strive to make the joining as seamless as possible. Those standing in the way of the joining may suffer until the binding is complete, and the werewolf's instincts are satisfied that his or her mate is secured.

Hermione gently closed the book, her trembling fingers the only evidence of her discovery. If Hermione was reading correctly, and she believed she was, this could be the explanation behind Tonks' and Ron's sudden aggressive behaviour. Because Remus was a werewolf, they were all considered part of his community. When Remus recognised Hermione as his mate, their instincts told them to back off and allow Remus to pursue Hermione undaunted. But their human desires superseded their instincts, and they became, as the book put it, unstable.

It was their fault, hers and Remus', that Tonks and Ron had become violent. And the only way to make them return to their normal, jovial, and peaceable selves was to have this binding and placate Remus' instincts.

Hermione dropped her head into her hands and breathed deeply through her mouth.

It's all my fault.

*

Remus came back from cleaning the dishes with pruned fingers and an uncharacteristic desire for a house-elf to see Hermione looking despondent, with suspiciously sparkling eyes.

"What's wrong, love? What's happened?" he asked softly, taking a seat beside her and pulling her into his arms.

"It's us," she whispered, shaking her head and struggling to get out of his hold. He tightened his grip, not allowing her to escape. "It's our fault."

"What is?" Remus asked, confused. He saw the book he'd purchased on werewolf mates sitting on the table, open to a page on community. He'd heard a little about what was referred to as the werewolf community. It was essentially a group of people surrounding the wolf, consisting of friends, family members, a mate, and the mate's own community. It was a somewhat outdated notion. It had never been proven that the 'community' was affected by the instincts of the werewolf.

"Ron and Tonks, getting possessive and violent. It was because of us."

Remus forced Hermione's face up to meet his. Her eyes were sorrowful in that all-consuming way that only she managed to convey. It was heartbreaking to see her so sad, and he railed against whatever had made her so, vowing to destroy that which hurt her. Even if it was himself.

She gestured weakly toward the book, and he read the excerpt that had obviously upset her.

Dear Merlin, he thought. How could it be? These things were unheard of in modern werewolf culture. The last binding he knew of had taken place before he'd been turned, and even that had been done for ceremony and not necessity.

Somehow, he and Hermione were a throwback to an older, more complicated time. That meant... Remus' eyes widened. That meant they were true mates. That meant there was no one else for either of them. That meant that he, as a werewolf, had been bound to her inextricably even before she'd been born. She was the only one for him, and he for her.

They were more than mates, they were soul mates. A concept he'd believed werewolves had evolved out of generations ago.

"Oh, Hermione," he whispered into her hair. "It's not our fault. It was fated. We were truly made for one another. Ron and Tonks... they were never right for us. It never could have worked."

He clutched her even more tightly as she began to cry silently, her trembling shoulders the only betrayer of her emotion.

"What do we do? We have to help them! It's our fault they could lose their jobs, Remus!"

"We will help them," he promised her.

"How?" she questioned plaintively. He could see how affected she was, and he was again struck by the generosity of her nature. She had just learned something life-altering, and she was worrying about Tonks and Ron instead of herself.

"Well, he began, "we'll do the binding. We have to anyway, and it will stop the instinctual battle that is making them so disturbed."

"What do you mean, 'we have to anyway'?" she cried, finally pulling away from him and raising accusatory eyes to his.

Remus bent to lightly kiss his lover's lips, but hers remained unmoving beneath his. Sighing softly, he said, "We don't have to, I suppose. But I want to. Hermione, I want to be bound to you, even more than I already am. I know that for the rest of my life I only want you by my side. If you don't want the same thing, then I will still take whatever I can get. I'll want you even if you can barely tolerate me, but I'll do my damnedest to make sure you love me as much as I love you."

Hermione stiffened and sat up straight. Remus had to look away from the intensity of her eyes, which were burning bright and fairly glowing.

Her lips parted and words spilled out as though she'd meant to stop them. "You love me?"

Remus suddenly felt naked. More stripped than any of the numerous times he'd been completely nude before her searching gaze, more bare than any of the times he'd told her of his fears or dreams. Suddenly she wanted to hear the words he'd only whispered after she'd fallen asleep or left the room. Suddenly he had to say aloud what he'd known since the beginning of time.

"I love you."

And it was easy. Despite her wide eyes and adorably gaping mouth, it was easy. Having her know the truth made him feel whole, and he knew the part of him that had always searched for his 'other' could finally call it a day. He wouldn't be alone.

And then she was holding him tightly, her arms around his neck not like a noose but like a lifesaver, pulling him from treacherous waters where he was always barely treading, barely keeping afloat, into the safety and warmth of her arms where he truly belonged.

"I love you, too. I'm sorry it took so long to say, so long to understand. I love you, and it's different and it's new and it's hard, but it's perfect."

Even though Remus had known Hermione was his mate, hearing the words made it real. Finally he had someone to hold on to, someone to trust, to love him despite and because of everything he'd always feared about himself.

Finally, being a werewolf had given him something good.

Into his chest, Hermione murmured, "But I don't want this binding just because of Tonks and Ron. I mean, I'll do it for them, but I wish it was our choice, not something forced upon us by nature and magic. I've had so much of my life dictated by circumstances beyond my control. I just wish this decision wasn't stolen from us."

"I know, love. I want you to know I would have suggested the binding even if we didn't need it. Maybe not so soon, but I do want to be bound to you."

"Really?" she asked, and she sounded so young that he had to remind himself that her heart was delicate, and she'd been hurt before. He had a responsibility to be gentle with the gift she'd given him.

"Really. I will never lie to you about that. I do, have, and will always love you."

Hermione climbed into his lap and kissed him in a way that left no doubt that she mirrored his sentiment.