Hermione marched to the seventh floor of the castle, muttering sharp words under her breath. She crossed her arms over her dressing gown and shook her head, sending a wave of brown curls over her shoulder and down her back as she marched up the last staircase. She was frustrated, she was horny, and she was tired of being interrupted.
Remus Lupin was driving her to insanity---and he had no idea he was doing it!
She was teaching Charms at Hogwarts, and he was back to teach some Defense Against the Dark Arts materials to the sixth and seventh year students. Hermione hadn't known that her Professor Lupin would be teaching as well; she had to admit that if she had known, she might have thought twice about accepting the Headmaster's offer.
At first, she thought oh, no, there's no waaaay that the crush she had once had on the man would resurface. She thought that those feelings had disappeared along with her schoolgirl awkwardness. But, after a few weeks of getting to know each other as colleagues, she realised that she was getting herself into trouble.
There had been a couple of weeks where they discussed nothing but why she insisted on calling him 'Professor Lupin' when they were alone. He told her time and time again that she was no longer his student; however, he didn't know that by addressing him the way she did, she was able to keep the real Remus Lupin separate from the man she thought about before falling asleep.
He drove her to distraction; the next few weeks were spent rushing back to her private quarters at the end of the working day, so she could hide, relieve some of her tension, and avoid the world around her. That usually meant that she missed the last meal of the day, but she could always sneak down into the kitchen and ask the house elves for something to eat, to tide herself over until breakfast the next day.
She waited until Filch and Mrs. Norris had passed her and walked down the stairs, before she marched to the wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Balmy, who was trying to teach the trolls to dance ballet. She looked across at the stone wall and bit her lip.
What was required?
She didn't want to start pacing until she knew exactly what she needed. A room in which she couldn't be found. That would be nice---especially since she had been interrupted five times while she was trying to relax after her afternoon classes. The first four interruptions had been students; and then, when Remus had heard from one of the prefects that she wasn't feeling well, he had been the fifth interruption.
He had reached out and touched her forehead, checking for a fever. Hermione had felt a fever rush her system at the contact, and told him she needed to lie down. He studied her with a raised eyebrow, but left on the promise that he would come back and check on her again.
Privacy.
Something comfortable to lounge on.
And something to read.
She nodded firmly as she made her decision. Then, she started pacing in front of the wall.
After three lengths, the polished door with the brass handle appeared. She smiled, and turned the handle. Once the door was open, her smile stretched more.
The room was perfect---and it looked much different than the last time she was inside of it. A soft glow came from several candles lit throughout the room. There was a gorgeous four-poster bed, covered in rich burgundy fabrics, and on the bedside table there was a book, a glass of pumpkin juice, and a bar of chocolate.
She smiled, locked the door, and took her dressing gown off. She stepped out of her slippers. In her vest top and knickers, she padded softly to the bed and lounged in the luxurious bedding, savouring how the sheets felt against her skin.
She picked the book up and thumbed through the first few pages of the novel. As she let her eyes skim over the text, she reached over with her free hand and picked up the chocolate. She put a piece of the treat on her tongue. It melted slowly; the sweetness slipped down her throat.
An hour passed like that, slowly eating pieces of chocolate while reading the book. She sighed when the plot turned to the romantic, and put it down.
Not helping.
She closed her eyes and imagined Remus doing the things that she read in the book. That fever began building inside of her again and she moaned softly while her fingers traveled across her stomach and lower, until they were brushing the elastic of her knickers.
Definitely not helping.
The door creaked.
Fingers still underneath the flimsy fabric, she lifted her head and widened her eyes.
Oh, no. Definitely not helping.
"Don't stop," Remus said softly, closing the door as he leaned against the wall.
Hermione squeaked and sat up, drawing the sheet around her legs. "Professor Lupin!" she hissed. The room started changing. She gasped and looked around wildly, taking in the alterations.
More chocolate. A few more candles. Long silk scarves attached to the posts.
"Look at what you're doing to my room!" she exclaimed.
Remus looked around and smiled. "Ah, yes. The Room of Requirement," he commented. "I wondered what you needed when you came up here."
Her eyebrows shot up. "You followed me?!"
"I had been coming to your room," he explained. "I wanted to make sure you were feeling better. I saw you leave and head up to the seventh floor."
"So, you followed me?"
"I was curious," he said, blushing a little. His lips twitched into a smile. "I wanted to see what you require."
"Professor---"
He raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think we're past formalities now?"
"I... you..." she trailed off and stared at him. He was still wearing his robes; even though they were a little worn out, she thought he looked very handsome. He smiled more. She scowled and demanded, "How'd you get in here? I locked the door."
He shrugged. "I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?!"
He shrugged again. "I reached out to touch the door, and it opened," he explained.
Hermione's eyes widened and she looked wildly around the room. She wanted someone to blame. Finally, she stared at the ceiling and let a stream of curses rattle off her tongue. When Remus burst out laughing, she growled at him.
"Stupid room," she grumbled.
"So, you do require me."
"Shut up."
He smirked. "Sorry."
"You are not," she shot back. "So, don't lie to me."
"Alright."
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "You have to go."
"Why?"
"Because I'm embarrassed!" she exclaimed. "You've seen too much of me and I need to compose myself and---"
Remus took another step towards her. There was something conflicting in his body language, she noted; part of him seemed too brazen, the rest of him was still showing her that hesitant, gentle professor personality.
"Professor---"
"Remus," he insisted. "That's my name."
"But, you've always been my professor," she said softly.
"And now, what am I?"
She bit her lip and thought for a moment. "You're... a man watching your colleague in a very compromising situation," she said carefully.
"You're more than a colleague," he said in a tone that was less aggressive than before. "I've watched you... I've seen you grow up, I've protected you and noticed all the ways in which you've changed."
"Ex-exactly. You've seen me grow up," she pointed out shakily, hoping that she could push him away by likening herself to his annoying little sister. She didn't think she could handle reality; her fantasies were safe since there was no one to hurt and no one to hurt her.
"And how wonderfully you've grown," he murmured, a rough sound creeping into his voice.
"Prof---"
"Remus."
"---essor," she finished. "Honestly, I mean... it's just..."
"Why do you think the room let me in?"
Hermione swallowed.
He smiled and came closer. A chair appeared next to the bed. He looked at the ceiling, smiled more, shrugged, and then walked to the chair and sat down in it. He crossed his ankle over his knee and let his robes brush against the floor.
"Do you want me?"
"I, um, uh..."
The relatively wordy witch found that she couldn't formulate a sentence to properly articulate how she felt. Yes, I want you. No, I don't want our working relationship to change. I'm scared you don't want me. I'm scared I'm not enough. But, I'm not scared of you. What if the students find out? Yes, no, yes, no. She swallowed again and whispered, "We can't do this."
"Why not?"
"Because... because I'm me, and you're you."
Remus' face fell; the instant the words left her lips she regretted them. He nodded and pushed himself up. He moved more quickly than she expected. "Alright, then. I thought it was---"
"No---wait."
"It's not the first time I've heard that, Hermione," he said, looking at her over his shoulder as he made his way to the door again.
"But, that's not what I meant, you... you pig-ignorant fool!" she exclaimed. "I don't care about that stuff. You should know that by now! I've never raised a stink like others have---and I've defended you! I've always---" she stopped and sighed. "Look, if you---" Remus turned and looked at her. She blushed and shrugged. "I... I guess the room is smarter than I've ever given it credit for," she mumbled. She looked up as she felt her cheeks burn. "I do fancy you."
"I know."
Her eyes widened. "How---"
"It's close to the moon... I'm not entirely myself," he said softly. "I could smell you when I came to see if you were alright---and you've started acting very strangely."
"Strangely?" she echoed.
He nodded. "I can never understand women. Sirius and James always said it was my downfall."
Hermione's lips stretched into a little smile. Even though she wanted to know about the meaning behind his words, she said: "I barely understand myself, if that helps."
"A little," he said, smiling back at her. He tilted his head; long strands of hair moved across his eyes. In the hesitant voice he reserved for his shyest moments, he asked, "How long have you wanted me?"
She shrugged. "Oh, I don't know... a while."
"A while?" he asked, intrigued.
She bit her lip. "Yes," she squeaked, feeling very young and girlish under his intent gaze.
"How long is a while?"
"A very long while," she whispered. As Remus contemplated her words, she felt giddiness bubble inside of her. After a brief giggle, she looked at him and shrugged. "This is so strange."
He smiled. "After everything you've seen?"
"I... I don't do this often."
"Ron---"
Hermione made a sharp noise and she shook her head. She didn't want to talk about her first and most successfully failed relationship. She didn't want to talk about relationships at all; that was how people got hurt, she realised.
If too much is put on the line, it turns out disastrously.
"Alright. What else do you want to talk about?" he asked.
"Why do you want me?" she blurted out.
Remus smiled and took his seat again. "Because."
"Well, that's hardly a fair answer," she replied.
He chuckled and tried again. "Because I'm a man, and I'm attracted to you. Because... because I'm an old and lonely man and you're a breath of fresh air. Because I'm feeling wolfish and you look like prey," he frowned as the last words escaped his lips and sighed. "Pick one."
She inched closer, admitting to herself that she liked his response. "I'm not afraid of you."
"You're not afraid of what I could do to you?"
She thought about it for a minute and shook her head. "No... after everything I've seen? You're not that scary."
Remus pretended to look wounded, stirring a soft chuckle from the young woman.
With a raised eyebrow, she insisted. "Seriously."
He nodded, and that smile returned. She relaxed a little and began to stretch her legs out under the blankets. She smiled more when she saw his eyes roam down over the bed, following the movement.
"Are you going to stay?" she asked. When his eyes snapped back to hers, she blushed and had to look away; his fingers on her chin forced her to look back at him. Her eyes widened and she licked her lips. "Prof---"
"You are not going to call me 'Professor' in this room," he whispered.
She had to swallow a lump that had lodged itself in her throat. He raised his eyebrow. She swallowed again, and then nodded slightly. She could feel the pads of his fingers brushing against her skin as his grip faded away.
Remus raised an eyebrow and asked, "What do you want?"
"What do you mean?"
"I can't read minds," he teased. "So... tell me: what do you want, Hermione?"
"I think... I think I'd like you to kiss me," she breathed.
"And then?"
"You need an 'and then?'"
He chuckled. "I like to plan ahead," he told her quietly, lifting his fingers to trace over the planes of her face. He smiled more when she shivered. Her nose wrinkled up a bit as his finger brushed down it, pausing at the slightly upturned tip. He chuckled again and leaned closer; his foot moved from his other knee to the floor as he leaned in. Then, he lifted his hand and kissed the tip of her nose very gently.
"Prof---" she stopped short. "Remus... what are you---"
"You'll enjoy this," he promised.
"But, my lips---"
Remus chuckled again, and then he brushed his lips along her cheekbone. "We'll snog properly later," he promised, lips brushing against the shell of her ear.
Hermione felt her body heat up as his voice created gentle vibrations. "Ohh-hhh, but---"
"I thought you were a patient woman," he interrupted, sounding a little amused.
Her hands were balled up in the sheets. She heard him sniff along the column of her neck, and even though he didn't make contact, she still felt a fresh wave of heat surge up from within.
"I'm... I... I'm not when you do that," she hissed.
Remus smiled more and moved from the chair to the bed, letting his hands travel down her arms once he was situated in front of her. She shivered and forced her head up, daring eye contact. He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose again; she didn't know if she should yell or whimper.
"Are you having trouble finding my lips?" she whispered.
"I'm not, actually," he told her. Once hand came up and cupped her cheek; his thumb brushed her lips gently. "I know exactly where they are."
"Then---"
"We have the entire night," he reminded her.
"But---"
Remus raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to rush me?"
"No, but if this is just a... I mean, you don't have to---"
He cut her off by replacing his thumb with his lips. Hermione gasped; he had moved quickly and surprised her again. His lips stopped teasing, and pressed more firmly against hers. She could taste chocolate and then something darker---something distinctly Remus Lupin.
While one of her hands was trapped by his, pinned to the mattress, the other was free and it sought his shoulder and then his neck. Remus was slower reacting to the feel of her fingers against his skin; but, eventually, he reached up and took her hand away.
"I want to touch you," she whispered. "Let me---"
"Not yet," he interrupted.
His voice was still so patient. Hermione couldn't believe it; his voice was even and his hands weren't desperate. She half-wondered if he was aroused at all, but then she heard him make a soft, shallow noise as they kissed again and she figured that he couldn't be entirely unaffected.
Remus removed her vest top when she consented; she lifted her hands and let him uncover her.
His eyes swept over her body and a slow grin stretched his lips. Hermione felt herself blushing under his gaze and her arms instinctively came up to shield herself.
"Ah ah ah," he scolded in a rougher voice. His hands came up and brought her arms back down; he continued moving her, and before she knew it she was on her back and he had positioned her hands over her head. Leaning over her, he smiled and kissed her again.
Hermione yielded when he insisted a deeper kiss; she whimpered when he nibbled with his teeth, and she shivered when he explored with his tongue. She could feel his hair brushing against her forehead, caressing her without intention. Against her hip, she could feel him hardening. The sensations combined together to pull a thick fog over her that clouded her senses.
She had no idea that it would feel so good---much better than any of her fantasies.
His hands were moving, but she couldn't figure out what they were doing until she felt the silk being tied around each of her wrists. She squealed in response and tugged, but he only kissed her again. Then, his lips traveled away from hers and explored her jaw line and neck.
"You smell delicious," he whispered.
"Why am I---"
"To teach you patience," he replied with a smirk. His eyes were dark yet playful, making her insides solidify and melt all over again. "Rewards come to those who wait."
"I... I---"
"Do you prefer instant gratification?" he asked teasingly.
Hermione huffed but didn't say anything. Remus laughed softly near her ear, and then pulled her earlobe into his mouth to nibble upon. She tried to arch but couldn't in her position; instead, she made a long, soft noise and hoped he understood that she wanted more.
After tasting and biting the soft lines of her neck, he started moving down her body. She wriggled, hoping to get him to pay attention to the places she hoped he'd focus on. Remus, much to her dismay, chose to ignore the hints she was dropping.
Remus took his time, alternating techniques as he explored her. She whimpered his name repeatedly, unable to really do much else. When he stopped and sat up over her, her eyes popped open and she glared at him.
He only smiled at her and then shrugged out of his robes, leaving him in well-worn pants and a shirt in neutral tones. He rolled his sleeves up and then leaned back down to return to his previous activities.
When he bit into her left nipple, she arched up---as best as she could with her hands over her head---and moaned loudly. He laughed against her skin and scraped his teeth against her; when her moan turned into a high-pitched whimper he laved his tongue over the trapped skin and stirred another low moan from inside of her.
"P-please," she whispered as he kissed his way across her chest. "Remus..."
"Shhh," he replied, nibbling on the gentle curve of her breast.
She huffed loudly; he bit down with a little more force and then that huffed breath disappeared into a sharp gasp.
The agony continued until Hermione could barely think straight---she couldn't even scold herself for losing the ability to think it proper sentences. The haze was thick and heavy; all she could focus on was the intense feeling of wanting more.
He kissed his way down her stomach and then licked a long, slow line along the waistband of her knickers. The lace and elastic was damp when he was finished with that method of teasing her. The combination of the warmth and wetness of his tongue with the chill from the air around them made her shiver; she shivered again when he pulled the thin swatch of fabric down her legs.
"Mmm, much better," he whispered in a husky voice. He had leaned back into a sitting position to admire her; a lopsided grin was on his face, complimenting the way his eyes sparkled.
"For whom?" she inquired, trying to sound annoyed.
Remus tipped his head back and laughed. She could feel the vibrations through his legs as they touched hers. Then, he brought his head forward and shook it. His hair looked heavier, slightly damp. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were beginning to swell, making him look utterly kissable.
She felt an intense desire to lean up and kiss him. But, when she tried to, she was reminded of the ties around her wrists.
He chuckled. She cursed. "Damn you," she whispered. "I want to touch you."
"And I want to feast," he said, an animalistic growl seeping into his voice.
Hermione felt her stomach tie itself into knots at the tone of his voice. Was it supposed to feel like this? It never has before.
Remus returned to his former position, hovering over her abdomen with dark eyes peeking at her. She grumped under her breath and fell back against the plush pillows, waiting for his next move.
First, there was a series of feathery kisses along her inner thighs. Then, he licked his way inward. Hermione was torn between opening her legs and closing them, but it didn't matter because Remus' hands were on her legs and holding her firmly where she was.
At the first scrape of teeth, she yelped. The second scrape of teeth made her squirm. But, when he started combining his techniques, she was surprised at the stream of broken syllables that poured out of her mouth. Too much, too fast, not enough, stop, more, go, oh, oh, oh my... she didn't know what was leaving her mouth, and she could barely comprehend what she was thinking.
Her sounds only spurred Remus on. She thought she heard him growl, but she wasn't sure.
Either the stars were coming down to her, or she was rising to meet them; she could see them behind her eyes, brightening and whitening and sparkling. She whimpered and moaned and drew in a sharp, painful gasp before he urged her into a climax she hadn't been completely prepared for.
She felt his chin on her stomach as she twitched and recovered. Opening her eyes a little, she realised he was just watching her. He smiled, looking eager for more while seeming very pleased with himself.
"H-he-hello," she whispered.
His smile twitched into a grin. "Hello."
"Untie me?"
"Ohhh, I don't think so," he murmured. He tipped his head forward and placed an openmouthed kiss on her stomach. "Not yet."
"Reeeeeemus."
He laughed against her skin and then traveled up her body. She pouted when his face was level with hers, but he seemed to be ignoring the expression because he kissed her without comment. She could taste herself on his tongue and lips, a flavour unlike those already in his mouth; after a few minutes of slow kisses, she tasted something else at her lips.
"Thought you could use a snack," he breathed, brushing the piece of chocolate across her lips.
She nibbled on it before asking, "Would you like to share?"
Remus smirked and put the chocolate in his mouth before kissing her again. So many flavours danced in her mouth; she didn't know which to process and savour first. The chocolate melted between their tongues as they passed the small square back and forth. The flavour lasted long after it had melted away.
"That was lovely," she whispered.
"There's more," he promised, sitting up a bit.
"About bloody time," she hissed as his fingers danced over her stomach.
When she saw his smirk, her eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat. Tease. Her mind screamed, but no sound escaped her lips; he was drumming his fingers along her ribcage and following the light touches with soft laps of his tongue.
"About bloody time for what?" he inquired teasingly.
"You---" she had started to yell at him, but he sucked on her skin along the underside of her breast and she could only gasp in response.
"Me, what?"
"Ugh," she grunted.
"Oh, come on, now, Hermione... at least tell me what's on your mind."
He nuzzled his way up her body and then leaned over her. His eyes met hers; she felt as though she could drown in the depths of his dark gaze. Her mouth opened, but no sounds were made.
"What are you thinking?" he pushed. "Are you happy? Comfortable? Afraid?"
"I want more," she insisted. "More of you. Get those clothes off."
"Not yet," he replied, smiling as his fingers reached up and brushed through her wild mane. "I'm not quite finished yet."
Hermione whimpered, watching him with wide eyes. He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "You're safe here, you know," he whispered. She nodded. Then, he blushed and added, "If you want me to untie you, I can---"
"No," she blurted out, surprising both of them. It was her turn to blush next, and then she looked away and closed her eyes. "I mean---"
She stopped talking when Remus tipped her face towards his again. She didn't know what she would have said. She did want to touch him; her fingers ached to feel his skin. But when he offered to untie her, she felt slightly disappointed. Seeing that wild look in his eyes eradicated the feeling, and the grin that followed made her insides melt all over again.
"I never did ask you what you prefer," he said softly. "So, if---"
"Just touch me," she interrupted. "I don't want to stop... do you?"
"Merlin, no," he whispered forcefully.
"Show me what else you like," she insisted, smiling at him. His expression brightened for a brief second and then she watched something darker cloud his face. She rolled her eyes and threatened him: "I'll call you 'Professor Lupin' if you don't."
"Oh, no, anything but that," he replied in a voice that was laced with thin threads of sarcasm.
"I'm serious," she said, jutting her chin out. He kissed her chin twice, but failed to distract her. She sighed and insisted again, "Tell me. Show me."
"If I---"
"If you hurt me, you can make it up to me," she murmured before smirking at him.
He bowed his head. She stretched against the ties awkwardly, but lifted her head enough so her lips touched the top of his head. After two kisses of her own, clumsily pressed against his hair, she fell back against the pillows.
"Show me," she whispered, trying not to sound desperate.
Remus kissed her chin again, before kissing her lips. After several slow, open mouthed kisses, he whispered, "Do you trust me, Hermione?"
Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she nodded slightly. "Yes," she said breathily. "I do. I do."
"Close your eyes," he instructed in a low murmur.
Hermione watched him for a minute, trying to figure out why he was asking---no, telling---her to do that. When she decided she couldn't possibly understand the reason for his demand, she smiled and closed her eyes.
She felt him shift around her. She listened to him, but the sounds he made didn't give her any clues. Eyebrows furrowed, she waited as patiently as she could.
The first hot splatter on the centre of her torso caused her body to twist quickly. The second stirred a mewling sound out of her; the sound started off as something quiet, but it transformed into something louder.
"Beautiful," Remus whispered.
Hermione opened her eyes at the sound of his voice. He was sitting next to her, holding one of the thick candles in his hand. Wax was cooling on her skin while the flame's light was flickering on his. She watched him push his fingers into some of the wax with a look of fascination in his eyes, before scrunching her eyes shut in reaction to the feeling of his touch on her red skin.
He waited a few minutes before pouring another line of wax down the centre of her chest. She felt the pain in the heat and then she felt something else, something hotter pooling in the pit of her stomach and sinking lower.
"Ohhh, I--- Remus," she panted, until a few drops of wax landed on her stomach. She rolled her hips and whimpered, not caring if the hot liquid was marring her skin because it felt surprisingly good.
He held the candle away from her before he leaned down. After a kiss, he whispered sweet words in her ear; the words turned into nibbles on her earlobe before the next few minutes passed in a blur of exquisite sensations.
Skin on her thighs, stomach, and chest burned and tingled; she felt like nothing would drown the fire that danced on her skin. Remus continued teasing her and testing her limits; during this process, she quickly learned that a splash of wax meant a caress with fingers or a kiss with lips for a reward.
Remus brought her into another orgasm with this twist of pain and pleasure. She whimpered and nibbled on her lower lip, arching up and expanding her ribcage with a quick breath as she felt the white-hot drops on her feverish skin.
Her eyes popped open when she felt his erection brushing against her entrance. She didn't understand where his pants went; but as he sheathed himself inside of her, she found that she didn't really care so much. She could feel the softness of his shirt, brushing over the tender skin on her torso, and that made her wonder why he kept his shirt on, but then he shifted his hips and dug his fingers into her waist and she felt her thoughts slipping away from her tenuous grasp.
Hermione bit her lower lip and moaned loudly, clenching her hands into fists, as his movements built up force and speed. He stilled long enough to ease her lip out of her teeth so he could suck on it. Then, they worked together to build a rhythm that worked while he nibbled and sucked her lips.
When the sensations became too much, Hermione let out a low, loud noise and tried to move her hips for deeper penetration and more friction. Remus held her in place, refusing to be baited, and continued on.
"Fuck," she whispered.
"S'what I'm doing," he grunted dryly.
"Mooore," she pleaded.
More. Please, Merlin. More. More. More.
He laughed breathlessly and moved his lips to her shoulder. She heard him grunt again; following the noise, there was an increase in force of thrust. He rubbed against her, taking her breath away in a mixture of shock and pleasure.
"How's that?" he whispered shakily.
"Ohhh... so... so good," she whispered back. She parted her legs more and lifted them up, locking her ankles behind him.
He shifted his hips and he sank into her more deeply. She stifled a sound that would have been a cross between a gasp and a yelp. Her legs tightened.
The wax was crinkling and flaking away, exposing sensitive skin. His shirt teased it; his fingers caressed it but didn't calm it. She whimpered and bucked against him each time his fingers strummed over her body.
When his teeth sank into her shoulder, she shouted his name and tightened around him. Before she knew what was happening, an orgasm crashed into her and dragged her out to sea with the waves that followed. She floated in her hazy world and managed a smile when he groaned and shuddered before his own release.
"Mmmm," she hummed, stretching under him.
"S'pose I should let you go now," he murmured teasingly. He pulled out of her with a quiet wet noise that she didn't pay any attention to, and before he could untie her his lips found their way to his breast. He suckled and nuzzled her affectionately.
She giggled breathlessly when she felt his cheek rub against her skin. "Remus," she whispered, trying to get his attention.
It worked. He lifted his head and smiled at her. "Yes?"
Words tried to come out, but she suppressed them because she didn't think they were appropriate. Instead, she smiled more and shrugged.
He grinned and then kissed her lips very gently.
She closed her eyes and smiled more against him as he unfastened her wrists. He eased himself down at her side and kissed each wrist and palm tenderly. "Are you sore?" he asked quietly.
"I'm fine," she assured him. Before he could do anything else to her hands, she reached out and tugged on his shirt. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Hermione sighed and asked, "Why did you leave it on?"
"Didn't want to waste time with buttons," he replied casually.
Hermione smiled and then pinched the top button between two weak fingers. She pushed it through the hole and then let her hand slip into his shirt. He exhaled slowly and his eyes widened, but no words were spoken.
She rubbed her fingers over his skin for a few long minutes, and then she continued opening his shirt.
After two buttons, he stopped her. She looked at him and said, "I want to see you."
His fingers slipped between hers and his thumb caressed the back of her hand. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm right here."
"No, all of you. For a professor, you're awfully daft---"
He laved her hand with kisses. "There's no need."
"Yes, there is."
"To satisfy your curiosity?" he inquired.
"No... I want to..." she trailed off and tried to find the proper words. "I want to reciprocate."
"Hermione... I'd say this was a success, wouldn't you?"
"Shut up," she grumbled, reaching for his shirt with her other hand. He tapped her hand away, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. "What?"
"You don't need to see---"
She tugged on his shirt with more force than she expected she'd have. The last few buttons popped off and flew several feet away. They landed on the floor with tiny noises before they spun across the room.
"Hermione---"
Her face softened. She smiled and kissed his lips while her fingers tangled in his hair; he made a quiet noise in the back of his throat as they kisses lazily.
When they parted, she looked at him and whispered, "How long has it been since you've let someone see you?"
"That's not the---"
"Because they all missed out," she murmured as she dropped her lips to his neck. She could taste sweat and sex on him as she kissed down his torso. Her hands reached up and she tugged on the shirt; he clumsily followed her directions and soon the fabric was off and on the floor.
"Hermione---"
She chuckled and pressed her lips to the curve of his pectoral muscle. She could feel a thin scar under her lips so she opened her mouth and let her tongue trace the line. Remus's shaky sigh fueled her on. She traveled across his rib cage and awkwardly guided him to turn over.
"Please, don't do this," he whispered, protesting with his body as well.
"Remus," she murmured, stroking her fingers over his hip. "What are you afraid off?"
"It's---"
"It's you," she said. "Now, let me see your back. Alright?"
He sighed. She watched his cheeks flush a deep shade of crimson. He closed his eyes and reluctantly rolled over. Hermione bit her lip and watched as a new canvas of skin was turned to her. Her eyes widened as she saw the bite mark on his back, as she realised that it corresponded with marks she saw on his front.
"Told you," he muttered glumly.
She ignored him and leaned down and nuzzled and kissed the marks. Apart from the scars something's teeth made, there were claw-like lines over his shoulder. She traveled upwards, over his spine, until she reached those longer scars.
"You have no need to be so nesh," she whispered, scolding him gently. "You're handsome and brilliant and I don't give a stuff about you feeling timid."
Remus snorted. She poked her finger into his thigh.
"I'm quite serious," she added.
"Alright," he replied softly.
Hermione smiled and continued tasting and touching his back. She heard his breathing change and she smiled more.
Sleep sweetly.
She stretched out next to him, on her side so she could watch him sleep, completely flaked out. His mouth was open; his lips were swollen. She smirked and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips and then she gasped as he lifted his arm and pulled her against his chest. He shifted in his sleep to accommodate her.
Unable to sleep, she listened to him breathe and dream. He made small noises in his sleep; she thought they were adorable. His fingers twitched over the marks on her torso, and she felt slight tingles through her nerves; her stomach tightened and she closed her eyes to relive their night together.
A new fever washed over her. She looked at him and thought about waking him up for another go; however, her rational mind thought better of it. She slowly eased herself out from under his arm and sat up on her side of the bed.
Opening the drawer to the bedside table revealed parchment, ink, and a quill. She smiled sadly and wrote him a brief note.
Hope you slept well.
Will I see you at breakfast?
Last night was lovely.
Thank you.
~H.
She tore the parchment so he wouldn't have the first attempts in his possession. She folded the remaining note and set it on her pillow. She cringed when she looked at the note; she knew he'd think she was ridiculous.
Nevertheless, she left it there and got up to put her clothes on. Knickers, vest top, slippers, and dressing gown were all put on with a little difficulty. Her muscles complained with each motion she put them through. She found her wand and slipped it into her pocket.
One last look at the sleeping Remus stirred a need to kiss the back of his neck, but she suppressed it as best as she could. Instead of returning to him, she forced herself to turn and walk to the door. After a deep breath, she put her hand on the knob and turned it slowly.
The castle was still quiet and barely dark, she discovered. She cast one last look over her shoulder at the sleeping man and then she stepped out into the chilled air of the corridor.
The End!
