Chapter Text
Prompt 1: Bloom
It is said that the flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful. And that's how Remus feels about his friendship with Hermione. She had come into his life as a mere young and eager teenager, looking to him as a mentor and a teacher. He had indulged her questions, smiled at her bright mind and wondered what she would make of herself.
A legend. That is what she made of herself. And Remus had been content to watch. To sit in the shadows where he was comfortable, where he belonged, and watch her reach her potential. He had been convinced he would be a mere footnote in her life, a conversation that went something like "Oh what was his name... third year DADA Professor... the werewolf... oh God, why can't I remember his name?" And that would have been fine for him. More than.
But Hermione didn't want that. After the war, she had turned up at his door, a tentative smile and a tenacious attitude when he had turned her offer of friendship down. He didn't need her bright attitude bringing colour into his dull and grey life. He wanted a break from the drama, from the papers, from the people he had fought beside. He wanted to be alone.
At least, that's what he had thought. Eventually, he had let her in and gave grunts and the occasional 'yes' or 'no' to her questions. Those grunts turned into full words. Into sentences. Into fucking conversation. It had happened gradually. So gradually, he hadn't even seen or noticed it happening really. If he had, maybe he would have put a stop to it. Maybe he wouldn't now be cooking dinner for her three times a week, maybe she wouldn't be brewing his potion, maybe his garden wouldn't bloom each spring with the bulbs she had planted and the vegetables she had tended.
Maybe he wouldn't be stood on her doorstep this time, about to open his heart fully to the witch he had fallen in love with.