Chapter III

The next morning, Hermione awoke with a very, very large crick in her neck. Stretching, she heard things pop that really oughtn’t make such a noise, not so early in the morning, anyway, and slowly opened her eyes. The library? Oh yes, she had fallen asleep waiting for Remus to finish that draft. Idly, she wondered if he had indeed finished and then wondered where her book had gotten to. Seeing it on the end table, she realized that Remus must have tucked her in, and a surprising flush of warmth ran through her. Standing up slowly and stretching again, she went over to his desk and found the chapter. She went about her morning toilette upstairs, reading as she went, and when she finished, she raced downstairs to the kitchen.

“Morning, ‘Mione,” Remus said, trying (and partially succeeding) at getting Teddy to eat his breakfast instead of playing with it. “Come on, Teddy, eggs are nummy!” he said, making train noises and playing Hogwarts Express with his own fork, poking some of the scrambled mess into his own mouth and chewing gleefully. Teddy laughed and poked his fingers into the runny yolks of his own eggs, finger-painting happily on his own plate. Remus sighed in exasperation, looking at Hermione with a doleful expression that made her chuckle.

“Teddy, if you eat all of your breakfast, you can play with your toy snitch,” Hermione said to the youngster.

“Nitch!” he squealed and immediately shoved his face into his plate, eating his eggs and bacon. Hermione looked at Remus with one eyebrow cocked, as if to say see, that’s how it’s done. Remus shook his head in amusement and continued to eat.

“There’s a plate for you on the stove if you want,” he said around a mouthful of toast. “How did you sleep?”

“Just fine, I suppose, until I woke up and realized that I’d somehow lost the ability to turn my head,” Hermione answered, busying herself with fresh tea.

Remus immediately looked contrite. “Oh, I’m sorry, Hermione, it’s just that you looked so comfortable where you were, and it was so late, and—”

“Remus, Remus, it’s okay!” She interrupted his apology with a smile. “I’ll live, I promise.” Sitting down with her breakfast, she pulled out his chapter. “Now, about this draft ...”

“You read it already?” he asked, surprised. “That was fast!”

“Well, I’ve read most of it before, you know,” she said. Nibbling on a piece of toast, she continued, “I think that it looks just fine. I only had a few questions about your conclusions, though. This place here, where you mention the use of bezoars—”

“I thought you’d wonder about that. You see,” he interrupted, “I figure that if the bezoars were introduced into the potion at just the right time, they wouldn’t counteract the potion itself, but would fuse with it so that they would actually—”

“Attack the lupine part of the human, as though it were a poison,” she concluded. “Brilliant, Remus! But then, why the use of moonflo—”

“Moonflowers? Their medicinal properties in calming the mind and stopping bleeding are well known, even though they’re usually used gynecologically,” he answered excitedly. “But since the transformation from man to wolf and back is almost like a birth of sorts, they should help. And that’s why I also thought that using chamomile would work because—”

“Because it’s calming and because it speeds healing time in both men and animals!” She stopped for a second, heart racing. Looking her former professor in the eye, she said sincerely, “Remus, this could change ... everything.”

“I know, Hermione,” he responded. “I know.” Subconsciously he covered her hand with his, somewhere in his mind registering that his heart was beating faster.

Hermione felt him touch her hand and immediately blushed. She hoped beyond all hope that he didn’t notice, but his eyes didn’t move from hers. After what seemed an eternity, she broke away from him, ostensibly to refill her tea cup, but in reality because she was afraid that she might have kissed him. What on earth was she thinking? Remus was finally getting back to normal, and he was on the verge of a discovery that could change his entire life. She had no right to meddle in that, possibly upset him and risk losing his friendship, all for a schoolgirl crush. With a deep breath, she reminded herself firmly that Remus was a good man, and he would never view her as anything other than a close friend. Ignoring the annoyingly delightful twinge in her nether regions, she squeaked, “More tea?”

Remus shook his head as though he were waking from a dream. For a moment there, it seemed like she was about to kiss him. Him! What a fool you are, Remus, he thought. No beautiful, intelligent woman like her would ever see him, an ostracized werewolf who just happened to be both a single parent and her former professor, as a romantic partner, even if she did have excellent taste in books and music and looked so pretty when she slept ... Fortunately for him, Hermione interpreted his head shake as a “No” for more tea and turned away to clear the table, leaving him a few precious moments to quell the strangely unfamiliar but delicious surge of blood to his groin.

***

Friday came, and with no small amount of pride, Remus showed up at Snape’s door with a freshly edited and neatly arranged chapter, which thankfully no longer had the traces of jam from this morning’s breakfast on it. He knocked, Severus opened it, and just like usual, greeted him with a curt “Lupin.”

“Severus,” Remus said, barely disguising his excitement. Snape ignored his outstretched hand, again just like usual, and Remus entered his quarters.

“Tea?” Snape inquired politely but disinterestedly. Remus nodded rather too quickly; he hadn’t had his normal second cup at breakfast due to his boyish infatuation, and he knew his excitement would only substitute for caffeine for so long. Sitting down in his hard-backed chair, Snape poured out, giving Remus his typical two lumps and a dash of cream.

“Severus, I really think we’re on to something with this potion. I played around with some of the ingredients that we’d discussed after last month’s potion, and I think we could tweak it even more,” he said, grabbing two cocoa biscuits from the plate. Remus’ fondness for chocolate was legend.

“I see,” Severus said blandly. “And how did this month’s dose do?”

“I don’t know,” Remus answered, brushing crumbs from his shirt. “I don’t have to take it until next week. You know that.”

“I’m quite well aware of when the full moon is, Lupin,” Snape retorted. “But as we had discussed, taking this version of the potion earlier in the month allows it more time to act within the body. Did you remember to give Miss Granger her vial?”

The vial! Merlin’s beard, could one more thing go wrong this week? Between his ridiculous crush on a girl half his age, a little boy who loved to “decorate” his work and his person with food products, and his amazing ability to insult Snape without even trying, he had now forgotten to give Hermione her potion. He froze, not knowing how to respond.

“I can see by the blank expression on your face, Lupin, that you have indeed forgotten,” Snape said sardonically. “I trust that you will give it to her immediately upon your arrival?”

Remus nodded, blushing embarrassedly. “I’m so sorry, Severus, it’s just that I got caught up in this project, and—” He cut himself off, not wanting to admit to anyone that he had feelings for his young housemate.

Snape turned his piercing gaze upon him and, after a second’s pause, said, “Make sure that you remember to give her that vial tonight. Make sure that she takes it. And make sure that you also take your potion tonight.” His tone of voice brooked no argument.

Setting his cup down, Remus again nodded, this time wearily. He wouldn’t forget this time; maybe he could get one thing right this week after all.