Epilogue

Their wedding was perfectly lovely.

Though large, it maintained all the personal touches of the couple, so that every attendant knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this was their wedding.

Mrs. Weasley made the cake, the first peace offering she'd extended since Hermione had told her of her impending nuptials. While Mrs. Weasley obviously didn't want to hold a grudge, she seemed to have a little difficulty accepting that Hermione was no longer her would-be daughter.

The cake was delicious, and Ron inviting Tonks to be his date for the wedding went even farther in placating the Weasley matriarch.

Ginny got to wear a real bridesmaid dress, and not simply something she'd already worn a number of times. It was dark green and did amazing things for her softly pregnant figure. Harry looked impossibly handsome in black dress robes with green lining that matched Ginny's ensemble perfectly. His face was close to splitting with happiness that day, and for the first time in his life, he accepted congratulations from strangers with nary a complaint.

The ceremony was short, but meaningful. Many of the vows were reminiscent of the bond Hermione and Remus had performed, something only the maid of honour and best man recognised. The first kiss as husband and wife went on entirely too long to be appropriate, but Harry shushed the audience when people began to get uncomfortable.

"Animals," he whispered fondly.

The couple only broke apart when Mr. Johnstone called out for them to 'hurry it along so he could imbibe, already!'

Hermione did wear her white dress, and it was perfect. The lightest, flowing silk draped over her curves, flaring softly at the hips and trailing behind her in an elegant train. The gown opened to a vee at her throat, exposing an expanse of light golden skin. She chose not to wear a glamour over her claim mark.

When she had walked up the aisle, Remus immediately noted the veil she wore. It was the same one from their bonding, the one she'd worn while they'd made love that day.

Only Hermione really heard the growl low in his throat, and she smiled, a little smugly, as she walked to meet him.

During their first dance, Remus held his wife in his arms, neither remembering the steps to the dance that they'd painstakingly learned the week before. Both were content to sway slightly, looking into one another's eyes with promises of every good thing passing between them.

"My wife," Remus whispered, bending to place a kiss on her softly smiling lips.

"My husband," she confirmed.

The party continued at the finally restored and redecorated Grimmauld Place. It seemed to go on for days, but Hermione and Remus never noticed.

The Silencing Spell on their bedroom made sure of that.

*

A year after their wedding, Hermione and Remus moved out of Grimmauld Place. Their book was a critical success, though obviously not well received in all circles. Companion books were plotted and planned, but the couple gave themselves more time with these, writing their experiences as they happened.

For example, before they moved into their new home, neither could have expected that the wolf in Remus would drive him to mate with his wife in every single room. Nor could they have predicted that the wolf gave no distinction between 'room,' and 'closet' or 'hallway.'

Hermione didn't allow Remus to put a cage in the basement. A simple locked door was enough. The Wolfsbane had never, ever failed him, and improvements were being made to it on a regular basis. The pain was less debilitating, the recovery time faster. Remus began to learn to trust himself.

Hermione spent full moon nights in the basement with Remus. At first, Remus forbade her, but as they both knew (or, as Hermione always knew and Remus quickly came to learn) the fastest way to get Hermione to do something was to make it verboten. She would sneak down in the middle of the night to see the werewolf, who was always playful and calmed by her presence.

Remus' Olfactory Obstruction potion had been completely unnecessary, he soon found out. The wolf's desire to keep his mate happy was stronger than its desire to mate. As the wolf found his humanity, so did Remus.

Now his wife slept on one of the two large beds in the basement. She had no problem sleeping beside the werewolf, but he tended to move a lot, and Remus wouldn't risk accidentally scratching her in his sleep. But as soon as the transformation ended, she could always be found wrapped in her husband's arms.

*

Remus' and Hermione's physical expressions of love for one another became first famous, and then infamous in their group of friends. They were always granted the room farthest from anyone else when they went to visit. People stopped gaping and staring when Remus pulled Hermione into his lap for a vigorous snog in front of everyone.

Even Molly Weasley eventually smiled and said, "You kids," which made Remus blush and Hermione snort.

Remus' jealousy did temper a little. Hermione could hug her friends and even tell them she loved them. However, she could always feel the contemplative stare of Remus' golden eyes upon her, making her feel wanted and safe. Many people didn't understand it, but they didn't matter. Only Remus and Hermione did.

Obviously, their publisher had not thoroughly read their latest chapter when he complimented Hermione on her lovely earrings. Hermione graciously smiled, and Remus raised an eyebrow but otherwise did not react.

When the man reached out to touch said earring (possibly asking if they were real pearl...they were...but Remus didn't hear any of that), Remus had him against the door so quickly Hermione barely had time to roll her eyes.

"Why are you touching my mate?" he growled, holding the poor, middle-aged wizard against the solid oak.

"I wasn't...I just...the earrings... my wife. Anniversary."

Remus wasn't sure if his rage was distorting his hearing or if the man was actually making no sense, but he snarled and pushed the trespasser outside of his own office, locking the door behind him.

"Remus," Hermione scolded gently as she slowly lifted herself up on Mr. Backworthy's desk. "You should learn to control yourself."

"No," he corrected, stalking toward her. "Other men should control themselves around you!"

Biting her lip, Hermione wondered if what she was about to do could be considered a reward for bad behaviour. Perhaps that could be the next chapter.

Remus' sneer turned into a feral grin as he watched his wife slowly pull up her skirt, revealing the fact that she'd decided against knickers that day. Her legs spread in invitation, and she rested her weight on her hands behind her, scattering Backworthy's family photos.

Remus was in front of her and inside her in moments, filling her and fucking her to reassert his claim.

His lips were on the mark on her neck, and Hermione knew this was going to be hard and fast. Sure enough, Remus' pumping became pounding, and her desperate cries were shaky and interrupted by his movement.

Her legs were tight around his waist, drawing him into her deeper. His kisses were hot and demanding, never backing down, never giving up dominance even for a moment. When he felt her begin to tighten and her moans became pleas, he took her left hand and drew her ring finger into his mouth, wetting it and biting in just above where her wedding band rested.

Hermione knew what he meant. "Yours," she confirmed quietly before throwing her head back with the force of her orgasm. Her body was not her own as she was flooded with sensation.

Remus growled in agreement to her assertion, pumping his hips until his balls tightened and roaring as he filled her.

The bonding was enough. The marriage was enough. But he still liked to claim her every single day.

And looking back, though they made love nearly every single day, they both liked to think that was the moment their first son was conceived.

*

Allen Sirius Granger-Lupin was born on a quiet morning when the sun shone brightly. He was a very clever child, having inherited both parents' sense of mischief and general disregard for rules (within reason). Remus even had to create a smaller version of the Marauder's Map, showing their quaint home and grounds, because Allen had a knack for fitting into small spaces and falling asleep. The Allen Map saved both Hermione and Remus from hours of frustrated, concerned, and panicking searches.

Remus regularly used it to sneak up on his wife, which was usually unappreciated because Hermione tended to startle easily, thanks to having a toddler around.

One afternoon when Allen was visiting with his Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny and their kids, Remus was enjoying a hot cup of tea and looking out the kitchen window over the property. They were lucky to have a lot of land where Allen, and hopefully future children, could explore and yet feel safe in. Allen had encountered the boundary wards many times, bouncing away from them as if they were made of the softest of rubber. They sparkled a little at Allen's eye level so he didn't run face-first into them, but that rarely stopped the child once he realised he wouldn't be hurt by bouncing off the wards. It soon became one of his favourite activities, and Hermione quickly added a Cushioning charm to the ground near the wards.

Hermione had gone for a walk nearly an hour earlier. She loved to walk the property, claimed it helped her think of new ideas for their books. They had a series now, the latest one having been written on the topic of a mated werewolf couple's pregnancy. Now, when they found the time, they wrote on Allen's development. Their books had a loyal following, many people reading not just for the information on werewolves, but the fascinating way in which the couple wrote their life story. The love in their family was evident in every single word, and they'd become something of celebrities, thanks to their unusual beginnings and compelling stories.

Remus fondly recalled Hermione's pregnancy. He hadn't even believed it was real, that such a thing could ever happen to him, but the little stick had said Pregnant, and Hermione seemed to readily believe it, and he wanted it so badly that he did, too.

However, hearing the Healer say it made it all the more real.

He knew he'd been horribly overbearing. He'd never let her stay on her feet too long, or eat too much or too little. He wouldn't let her go anywhere by herself and didn't allow company to remain too long.

He'd helped her when her instincts told her to clean the house and get the baby's room all ready, even when she was only a few months along.

He hadn't uttered a single word about his fears that his son would be a werewolf. He kept them to himself, keeping a bright smile and a hearty attitude for Hermione.

His fears had been for naught. Allen was born with absolutely no indication of lycanthropy.

Nor were Rachael, Alexander, or Alina.

*

"Mum!" Alina whispered, interrupting Hermione and Remus as they reminisced about their own Sortings.

"Yes, love?" Hermione said distractedly. She was looking around for Allen, now in his fifth year and entirely too devilish to be allowed out of her sight for long, much to his chagrin. Ah, sitting with some Ravenclaws. Sitting with his sister, actually. Rachael was right at home in Ravenclaw, and she wore her colours proudly.

There had never been any doubt that Allen would be a Gryffindor, but he did spend a lot of time with Rachael at her table. Alexander sometimes followed him, but he didn't much like to stray from his Gryffindor friends, especially as he was hoping Alina would be Sorted into Gryffindor with him. Though a year apart in age, the two were very close. All their children were close, though they knew to give Rachael her space when she had a book in hand or an idea in mind.

"What are you doing here?" Alina demanded, sounding exasperated. Hermione was amused to see her actually stomp a foot.

"I'm here to see you get Sorted, love. Why aren't you in line with the others?"

"Um, I don't know, because you're humiliating me? " she said in a squealing whisper.

"Honestly, Hermione, stop humiliating our child. Control yourself," Remus pretended to admonish, winking at Alina, whose eyes widened in frustrated anger.

"Oh, relax, Alina," Hermione huffed, not quite used to the way Alina pushed her away. Her other children hadn't done that; even Allen hadn't been too embarrassed to give her a hug and bear her kiss on his cheek when she'd arrived. Alina was more image-conscious than her other children. "Your father's teaching this year, and I was invited by the Headmistress. Would you rather I stayed in the rooms alone while my family is here, together?"

Alina frowned. "But with Daddy teaching and now you living here, I'm not going to have any fun!"

Remus chuckled, tightening his arm around Hermione. "Well, if you go have a chat with James Potter, he might know a way to avoid your lame old parents so you can get up to no good..."

"Remus!" Hermione cried.

Alina had bolted before Hermione had been able to grab her by the robes, and she was now, quite precociously, approaching James Potter, now in his final year. She couldn't hear them, but she could very well guess. Alina pointed to Remus, and James followed her finger, raising an eyebrow questioningly at them. Hermione shook her head rapidly, but Remus nodded and smiled. James grinned widely and said something that made Alina smirk very devilishly, indeed.

"You will pay for that, husband," Hermione promised.

"He was going to give the map to Allen next year, anyway. He didn't want the Slytherins to have it, so he couldn't very well give it to Albus Severus."

"We'll never be able to keep her under control, now!"

Remus pulled Hermione closer. She almost went to resist, but there was no point. Resigned, she folded herself into his arms.

"We never could control her, anyway. And you don't really want to."

"I want her to be safe," Hermione said, biting her lower lip. She looked at the Ravenclaw table in time to see Rachael push some boy's hand off her lower back. Hermione grinned. That's my girl.

"They'll be the safest kids in Hogwarts, with us here," Remus reassured her. "And I brought the Allen Map, you know. Only a few readjustments, and it'll tell us where they are at all times. Just them, though."

Hermione didn't pout, but it was a near thing.

They went to sit together at the head table, a seat reserved for Hermione as she would likely take most meals here with her husband. When the Sorting began, Hermione shifted anxiously. After Albus Severus had been sent to Slytherin, her children knew that house was nothing to be ashamed of; Albus was a sweet and thoughtful young man...just very ambitious. Alina was the most likely to go there, with her cunning, conniving ways. But she was also loyal to a fault, with a sense of fairness that only a younger child could feel so keenly.

Finally, the Gs were being Sorted. After Eliza Gindlehorn, Alina Granger-Lupin was called. The Sorting Hat did seem to deliberate longer than it had with her other children, especially Allen, but that could have been Hermione's nerves talking.

Soon enough, though, the Hat called out heartily, "Gryffindor!"

Everyone cheered. Even Rachael put down her novel long enough to give her sister a hug on her way by. Her two brothers looked very pleased, even though they'd acted as though they wanted her in any house but theirs.

Remus put his hand on Hermione's thigh, and she shivered. "The house is certainly going to be empty from now on. I'm glad we have this year to be with them."

Hermione nodded, her eyes prickling a little. Remus' contract as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was only for a year while the regular instructor was on maternity leave. After that, Hermione and Remus would return to their cosy home and write full-time, though they didn't need to. Their books had begun as documentation but were now more like self-help with a lot of personal anecdotes. Werewolves had been coming out of the woodwork, the demand for literature growing ever higher. Werewolves like Remus, who had been afraid to have children for fear of continuing the disease, now felt more comfortable in procreating. There had not been a single case of hereditary lycanthropy to date. Hermione did most of the writing these days, with Remus as her primary editor and helper. She did let him write a lot of the sexual parts; she still got a little embarrassed revealing those sorts of details, but Remus did it in a very abstract way.

When dinner was over, Hermione and Remus said goodnight to their children (stealthily, of course...they may have accepted Hermione's presence, but they didn't want it all over the school that their Mummy kissed them goodnight).

In their quarters on the second floor near Gryffindor Tower, Remus sat down on the couch and beckoned Hermione to him. She immediately shucked her robes and straddled his lap. There was something about a man in teaching robes... no, there was something about her man, full stop.

She felt a little like a student again, sitting in his lap in Hogwarts...though she'd certainly never done such a thing the last time he'd held this position, though she might have kicked herself for not thinking of it. Her eyes must have darkened with promises of role-play, because Remus had that wily look about him.

"What can my lovely wife be thinking of?" he asked, unbuttoning her blouse.

"Hmm... just those dashing robes on you," she said, working on getting them off despite their appeal.

"I see," he whispered against her ear, pushing her shirt down her shoulders but not all the way off, trapping her hands. Her bra was next, and Remus immediately took a pouting nipple into his mouth.

Hermione moaned, trying to struggle out of her clothes so she could undress him and feel his unbearable heat against her body.

"Remember when we first moved into the cottage?" he was asking, and Hermione stopped moving to hear him better.

"Of course."

"Remember what we did for the first two days?"

Oh, Hermione remembered well. They'd barely made it in the front door before he'd had her on her hands and knees in the foyer. Then, they grabbed a drink in the kitchen, and she'd only had two sips before he'd spread her over the table.

And on it had gone until each and every room...

Oh.

"Yes, wife, I am going to fuck you in every single classroom, broom closet, office, and hidden alcove in this castle."

Hermione's pussy throbbed at the low, possessive tone he'd taken on. "What...what about the students' dorms? That... that wouldn't be right," she said, half hoping he'd contradict her.

And she knew him so well.

"That's what the summer is for, no? We can have the kids go to Harry's for a few weeks while we make our way through..."

"A few weeks! There must be hundreds of rooms!"

But Remus didn't elaborate further on his dastardly plan, and Hermione promptly forget to ask about logistics.

He picked her up and carried her into their bedroom. "Get undressed," he ordered gruffly, unbuttoning his own robes and letting them fall. Hermione hurriedly got out of her trousers, panties, and shirt, popping the cuff buttons in her rush. Once naked, she climbed onto the bed and watched as Remus undressed without taking his eyes off her. He still made her feel like the most beautiful woman alive. He made her feel perfect.

"How do you want me?" she asked, moving her arms above her head and stretching languidly. His eyes tracked her every shift, his cock bobbing as he crossed the distance and got onto the bed.

"Just like this," he said, and they both knew he didn't just mean her position.

He kissed all over her body, including each of her four stretch marks. One for each child, she liked to think.

Soon, she was begging. He did so love to hear her beg, and he always told her she did it so prettily.

"Open your legs," he whispered, and she immediately obeyed.

He positioned himself between her thighs and lined his cock up to enter her.

"Please," she begged, unashamed. He would take care of her, he always did.

Remus sunk into her slowly, and Hermione pulled his head down for a kiss. His lips were soft and smooth but they demanded everything she had, and she gave it all willingly, and then some.

As he made love to her, he watched her, and Hermione him. He didn't look much older than he had when they'd been married. An easier life and breakthroughs in Wolfsbane had done wonders for him. Hermione knew she had aged, but she still felt the same age as she had that first time they'd made love. Everything in her life was centred on that moment. Every time they'd made love, she remembered how it had felt to be claimed, to be so desperately wanted.

And she still felt that.

Remus lowered his lips to her silvery claim mark. It had not faded like other scars; it was perfectly preserved, his teeth marks clear to those who cared to look close enough.

A flash of arousal rushed her, making her cry out as his tongue manipulated her mark.

Hermione met every thrust of his cock, urging him deeper, harder, faster, more, until he gave her what she needed.

With her mouth on her neck and his cock inside her, Hermione had everything. She let the flood overtake her, let his body work her like he'd been doing it his entire life, and she knew that was how he felt, as well.

Nails digging in, Hermione cried out his name, for there was no other word in the world.

Remus rode her climax until his own found him moments later. A sharp bite to her neck sent renewed heat through her, but the sensation of him filling her was so much better.

"I love you," Remus said, still sounding as though he was astonished to be allowed to say such things.

"I love you, too, Remus," she answered, no longer astonished, just grateful. And content.

They had their home, their had their work. They had a family...a pack.

They had each other.

Fin.