Chapter Text
Everyone knew that something had happened between Tonks and Remus even before it happened.
First came irritation at the smallest things. Someone chewed too loudly, someone oversalted the soup, someone put a book in the wrong place, someone sneezed too loudly. Then came the arguments. And if, during the first arguments, they at least went into another room or outside, over time, they turned into a show with an audience. Often an immersive one.
Fleur had a habit of saying the most uncomfortable things out loud, which everyone usually found far too French for their taste. This time, however, they all agreed with her. Thank Merlin those two had postponed parenthood during the war.
Later, Tonks and Remus started coming to shared dinners separately. Eventually, Remus stopped appearing at them altogether. No one was surprised when Tonks announced that they had separated.
No one could understand what had gone wrong. Molly was especially loud in lamenting how sad it was that Remus had never appreciated everything Nymphadora had done to make him look like a proper man again. For a while there, she insisted, he had looked almost human — fed, trimmed, decently dressed — and now he was gaunt once more. Arthur apparently thought much the same, though all he contributed was a meaningful "such a shame."
After that came the ugliest stage — custody of the friends. He began appearing in England on weekends more often, and suspicion crept in among the Weasleys that one of them would be moving soon. Bill and Fleur, who'd had a special bond with Remus after Bill had been bitten by Greyback, diplomatically kept their distance from Tonks. The twins and Sirius now spent most of their time with Remus, which also displeased Tonks. Before long, that displeasure had grown into her shouting at her own uncle that blood was thicker than water after all.
For Harry and Ginny, the split became difficult in a different way. Ginny had spent a lot of time with Tonks before their separation, but now she was almost constantly at her friend's side. When Harry realised how often he and Ginny had started arguing because of Tonks and Remus, he tried to step back from the whole situation. Remus would understand the need to protect one's family, Harry told himself, even if the choice left a sour taste in his mouth.
When a crack appeared in Tonks and Remus's marriage, Hermione did everything not to interfere. She knew that the Weasley family's attention to the couple alone was enough to deny them even performative privacy. When the arguments began, she usually took it as a sign that it was time to go home.
She probably would not have noticed anything at all if not for Ginny. After all, Hermione and Tonks had never been close, so at first it was difficult to notice the distance the woman was keeping from her. Only in retrospect could Hermione trace when it had started. But when Ginny began avoiding her, it was hard not to notice. Harry either did not know or was being careful not to answer the question of what had happened, so Hermione had to find everything out herself.
Direct confrontation with Ginny did not produce any particular results. Her friend blushed and said something vague about it probably not being Hermione's fault, and even apologised. It did not change the situation, but at least it confirmed Hermione's suspicions. Something had happened between Remus and Tonks, and somehow, Hermione was part of it.
So she changed her approach. Hermione began visiting the twins more often, trying to gather information about Remus without being too obvious. But, like all Weasley men, the twins were not very good at empathy or processing complex emotional concepts. So she switched to Sirius. At Sunday gatherings, Hermione began seeking him out more often, sitting beside him and drawing him into conversation whenever she could. Eventually, she even sent him a book with a note saying she thought he might enjoy it. This resulted in the most awkward and, at the same time, absurdly funny conversation, in which Sirius tried to tell her, without hurting her feelings, that he was not interested in her. Hermione laughed so hard she burst into tears. When she realised, through another fit of laughter, that he was staring at her in horror because he thought he had actually made her cry, she decided they should return to the conversation later. The next day, she arrived at Grimmauld Place with a homemade cheesecake and, sitting down with Sirius in the drawing room, sincerely informed him that she had more fantasies about Ginny than about him. Sirius was scandalised and indignant at such a statement, but he dropped the subject.
But that visit to Grimmauld Place — where, as Hermione knew perfectly well, Remus now lived too — finally convinced her she was on the right track. Remus really was avoiding her. It was hurtful, considering how much she had liked spending time with him. It had always been easy for them to find common ground. She respected his lively mind and the way he could take a situation apart piece by piece until he found what mattered. She loved the way he so easily caught shifts in people's moods. She enjoyed the fact that he loved reading just as fiercely as she did. Truth be told, six months after his separation from Tonks, she missed him so much that it affected her daily mood.
One autumn morning, while Hermione was frying toast for breakfast, the obvious finally occurred to her. She did not understand everything, of course, but for the first time she realised that even this situation might be something she could research. The idea seized her so strongly that, when she was already paying for books in her favourite academic bookshop, she remembered that she had not turned off the stove and barely managed to return home in time before burning down her own flat. Even that could not hold her attention for long. She laid out the books, took out a notebook, a pencil, and a set of bookmarks, and began to read.
It took her a month to form a working hypothesis, gather enough evidence, and finally prepare herself to test her idea. Another few weeks went into waiting for the right phase of the moon.
On the day before the full moon, Hermione appeared at Grimmauld Place and informed Sirius that she would not leave until he let her speak to Remus. The smile on Black's face alone could have served as confirmation of her suspicion. As she climbed to the upper floor, to the room Remus occupied, she felt nervous for the first time. A perfectly understandable feeling in her situation, she thought; after all, it was not every day that you went to your dear friend with the question of why he had never told her she was his mate.
Hermione stood in front of the door to Remus's bedroom, considering whether she ought to knock. On the one hand, she had come here with the firm intention of figuring out what was going on and not retreating until she had received every answer she was owed. On the other hand, walking into someone's room without knocking was barbaric. She shifted from one foot to the other and decided that such an outrageous situation was brilliantly suited to embracing her inner rebel.
Hermione carefully opened the door and, after clearing her throat, whispered his name.
No one answered.
She took one uncertain step inside and narrowed her eyes, trying to make out anything in the darkness.
Hermione had never been in Remus's room before. Not during the Order days, and not after the war. Because the windows were covered with heavy curtains, it was difficult to see her surroundings properly. The narrow strip of light falling in from the open door was only enough to catch on the plain bookcases by the wall, on rows and rows of books pressed tightly together.
For a moment, she thought the room was empty.
She took a few more steps inside, breathing in the smell of books and the pleasant scent of Remus himself. Hermione had always liked the way he smelled — chocolate and a trace of antiseptic, which was very suitable for a chronically sad, smart man.
She looked behind the door and saw the double bed standing very close to the wall. The blanket on it had not been made.
Hermione was already ready to turn around when something caught her attention. In the far corner of the room, pressed into the narrow space between the bed and the wall, sat a man.
His eyes flashed gold.
"You should leave," Remus growled.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.
"I am not joking, Hermione. I can feel my control slipping."
With a little more confidence now, she walked into the room and, despite his protest, knelt directly in front of him.
"I know. I waited two weeks for exactly that," she said with a self-satisfied smile. "The last thing I need from you right now is careful, considered answers."
"Hermione, please."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione asked, ignoring his plea.
Remus closed his eyes. Hermione looked him over as best she could in the poor light. His shoulders were tense. His hands gripped his bent knees tightly. He was pressed into the corner as if he were trying to disappear into it. She leaned a little closer and noticed that Remus was holding his breath. She felt a little sorry for him.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she repeated, gentler this time.
Remus exhaled heavily and lifted his gaze to her.
"I wanted to. But I couldn't." His voice sounded lower than usual.
"Why couldn't you?"
"Because you don't deserve it." Remus took a deep breath and closed his eyes again.
Hermione placed her hand over his and felt him flinch.
"Don't deserve what?"
He did not answer, only pressed himself deeper into the wall. But he did not pull his hand away from her touch either.
"Don't deserve a kind, clever man who would love me, cherish me, and be devoted to me forever?"
Remus lowered his head.
"Don't deserve to know that, for someone, I am the main priority?" Hermione stroked his hand with her thumb. "Don't deserve a happy life? To never feel lonely again?"
Remus made a muffled sound that sounded suspiciously like a whine.
"Or maybe I don't deserve to see one of the most important people in my life happy?" she asked, a little more quietly now.
"You should leave," Remus managed to force out.
"Why?"
"Because I am not in control of myself."
"To be honest, I expected worse self-control, so you are doing remarkably well. From what I read, I should have been pinned to the floor by now."
This time, he definitely whined.
"Hermione, I swear that after the full moon, we will talk. I will answer every question. I will listen to everything you have to say." He opened his eyes, which no longer shone with that golden gleam. "But I am begging you. Not now."
Hermione squeezed his hand before standing up.
"Well then, I will come straight after the full moon and help Sirius take care of you."
"What? Wait."
"After all, I do not make a habit of poking sick people with a wand the way he does," she said without turning back to him. "I might even make you chicken bouillon. It will probably do you some good."
"You cannot see me after the transformation."
She stopped in the doorway and turned her head towards him before leaving.
"Why? Afraid my tenderness might break through all that pity and self-loathing?" She smiled. "Never avoid me again, Remus Lupin."