Chapter II

Remus Apparated home from Hogsmeade, deep in thought. Why, why, why couldn’t he learn to stop goading Severus? That had really been tasteless on his part. He knew how sensitive the man was about being in anyone’s debt, even for the rare pint at the pub. The fact that Hermione, of all people, had saved his life after the war cut the man to the quick. Only those in the Order knew how Severus had survived, so for Remus to be so callous as to remind him that he owed Hermione for that – again – was completely out of line. He’d have to find a way to make it up to him.

He popped into the foyer of Grimmauld Place, unsurprised to hear that Hermione had the stereo on. She often played music; she said it helped her concentrate when she read, and to relax when she wasn’t reading (which was hardly ever), and it most definitely helped soothe Teddy to sleep. It was only lunchtime, so he wondered which of these applied. Whatever was on wasn’t a piece he recognized, but it was lovely. He stood still for a moment, lost in the beauty of the voices.

“Remus, is that you?” Hermione’s voice wafted out of the kitchen, along with the smell of something delectable.

He shook himself out of his reverie and trotted in, suddenly realizing how famished he was. Having a toddler dump his breakfast on you didn’t leave you much time to eat in the mornings.

“Hi, Hermione. How’s—”

“Teddy’s fine. He’s down for his nap, just ate a bit of lunch a while ago, but I thought I’d wait for you,” Hermione answered with a smile.

Remus sank into a chair at the table, stomach grumbling an assent. “How’d you know I’d be ready for lunch? And what are we having?”

Hermione laughed. “Remus, after all this time spent under the same roof, I tend to notice things like when someone does or doesn’t eat breakfast, especially when that someone had a meeting and was chasing around incorrigible toddlers who were using glassware way too big for them. And where did he get that glass, hmm?”

Remus chuckled. “Yes, well, he was doing fine with it at the table; I didn’t think he was going to suddenly trot off with it! What. Are. We. Having?” he asked, punctuating each word with a poke toward the young woman’s ticklish middle.

“I whipped up a nice tomato soup and tuna fish sandwiches for Teddy earlier because that’s what he wanted. At least, I think that’s what he said; he can still be hard to understand sometimes! But he enjoyed himself, and I made enough for us, too,” she answered, jumping away from the older man’s poking finger and play-swatting him on the arm. “Shall I serve out?”

“Please! I’m starving!” Remus answered, patting his ever louder stomach. “Would you like some help?”

Hermione shook her head. “Sure, if you want to grab some plates and things, I’ll get the food.”

The two worked quietly for a moment before Remus’ attention returned to the music on the stereo. As they ate, he said, “This piece is gorgeous. What are we listening to today?”

Swallowing a bite of sandwich, she replied, “Well, you know how I’ve been reading Don Quixote in the evenings when my work is done. Great book, by the way. You really ought to read it—”

“When you’re finished. You’ve mentioned,” Remus smirked, interrupting. “But what are we listening to?”

“Oh. Well, when I’m reading literature like that, you know, non-academic reading, I like to get into the period a bit, look at what else was going on at the time, like art, and architecture, and fashion, and music. So, this is a recording of music from Cervantes’ time.” Checking the back of the album, she continued, “This one playing now is by Victoria; it’s a compilation of Spanish church music. I have some other recordings for later, some dances and courtly things as well.”

Remus smiled broadly. “That’s fascinating! Where did you get these? They’re Muggle, yes?”

Hermione nodded. “I subscribe to a mail service where I can borrow recordings for a while, then return them for different ones. Much easier than popping off to a Muggle library or something to borrow things.”

“Mmm,” Remus nodded in return, mouth full of hot, steaming soup. “I’ve got some work to do tonight as well. Maybe I can join you in the library? Listen to some more of this recording?”

“Oh, the chapter! How’s it coming?” Hermione asked.

“Pretty well, actually. It should be done soon. If you want, you can look it over tonight,” he replied.

“I’d love to!” she answered, dishing herself up a second bowl. Seeing Remus’ raised eyebrow, she mock-scowled and said, “Hey, chasing after your son is hungry work!”

Just then, a stream of babbling words came out of the charmed baby radio on the table. The two looked at each other, smiling, as they listened to Teddy’s “talk.” More and more words were becoming clear by the day, enough that he could ask for certain foods or toys or people, but not quite enough for complete sentences. But he tried, often to the amusement of the adults around him. “Mah boooOO, bay-beee, mak muk Dah-deee, want cookie!”

Remus and Hermione looked at one another and burst out laughing.

“Alright, Dah-deee, better go get your son that cookie he wants!” Hermione gasped, tears leaking from the corner of her eye. Remus nodded, laughing, and went to go get his boy. With a flick of her wand, Hermione cleared the table and put some water to boil for tea.

***

After Teddy had gone down for the evening, Remus joined Hermione in the library. The two had worked on different projects throughout the day, stopping every so often to play with a rambunctious Teddy, but now it was time to get down to business. He settled in at his desk, sorting through notes and papers until he found his latest draft. It was almost finished; he just needed to add on some concluding paragraphs and double-check his data. This research he and Severus were doing on werewolf reactions to certain potions was really getting them somewhere; this improved Wolfsbane alone was hardly short of miraculous. Remus felt better while taking it than he had ever felt prior to its invention, and if they could just tweak it a bit more, he thought that perhaps the two of them could even come up with a cure. Oh, wouldn’t the Ministry love that, he thought to himself.

“Remus, do you want quiet while you work, or would you like me to put on another one of the recordings while I read?” Hermione asked quietly from her usual spot in the corner of the couch.

“Mmm, maybe in a little while?” he replied distantly, jotting down thoughts on scrap parchment.

She nodded and returned to her book, chewing absently on her thumbnail as she read.

He worked, possibly for minutes, possibly for hours, until at some point he put down his quill and stretched. It was done, and quite a bit ahead of schedule, he thought with satisfaction. Now, if Hermione would read over it, then ... He looked over to the couch and realized that the young woman was sound asleep, a blanket pulled across her legs and her book splayed on her hip. Belatedly he realized that it was well past one in the morning. Well and well. Forgetting about his chapter, he walked over to the couch. He wondered for a second whether he should wake her up, but she looked so peaceful where she was that he decided after a second just to tuck the blanket in around her. Reaching down, he pulled the afghan up around her neck, his hand pausing just briefly on her upper arm, and then set her book (page carefully marked, of course) on the end table. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead, smoothing back her wild hair, and wondered when this girl had become so dear to him.