Harmony - Chapter 2
Hermione had no idea where she was going. All she knew was that she was sick and tired of Ron being an arsehole to her. Blinded by her tears, she ran through the eerily empty halls of Hogwarts, and out one of the secret passages.
Hermione had no clue which one of the passages she’d taken or where’d it lead her but she just wanted to sit down somewhere remote and cry. Ron had been being an obnoxious git to her for the last three years of her life, but recently, he’d taken to snapping at her almost whenever she uttered a single word.
Know-it-all,
Beaver,
Bitch,
Mudblood,
He’d called her. Sometimes behind closed doors, but also, to her humiliation, in public where curious eyes would stare at the bookworm as she was called names and being bullied by her supposed “best friend”.
It made her sick.
Stomach churning, Hermione stopped and leaned against a wall or railing of some sort. She sank down against the cold surface, and squinted her eyes shut. The brunette tried to regain her breath and control the tears that were currently streaming down her face. Quickly regaining control over her own body, she began to calm down.
Looking down at the ground, she noticed a puddle and saw her reflection. Angrily, she noticed her face was still splotchy and red from running in the freezing temperature. Noticing her eyes were puffy as well, she huffed in frustration and kicked the puddle, splashing flecks of water on the stone.
Looking up, she noticed she was on the bridge where she and Harry would come sometimes on their walks to just talk. She chuckled and was about to pull herself up and head back before she missed breakfast, when she saw a reflection of a man in what remained of the puddle.
Her head snapped up, along with her wild hair as she stared wide-eyed at her rugged yet handsome professor. As she stared at him, she noticed a strange emotion etched across his aging face... for now she would deem it as caution.
“Is everything alright Hermione?” Her DADA professor asked her, concerned.
Tearing her honey eyes away from him, she stared at a space in front of her. A million thoughts were rushing through her head as she tried to form a response to his words.
A heavy silence filled the air as the concerned professor stood a few feet away from his star student. Internally, he berated himself. Of course everything’s not alright, she’s crying you fool! Moony screamed at him. The wolf inside that almost nobody knew about had taken hold of his conscious and was always there as he’d been for the past twenty-eight years.
“No, I suppose not, Professor.” She sighed, watching as her now visible breath dissipated into the cold winter air.
“Would you like to talk about it?” He pressed, wanting to know what could possibly reduce the intelligent young girl to tears.
She huffed angrily. “Ron was just being an arsehole again,” Almost immediately after saying so, she turned beet red. “I-I’m so sorry professor, it just slipped out!” The teenage girl stammered out a string of apologies, not all audible.
Remus nearly laughed, this girl was adorable, he thought. “No need to apologize Miss Granger, judging by your tone and current state, I can assume he deserved it?” He finished, somewhat irked with the redhead for upsetting one of his favorite students.
To say Hermione was shocked would be an understatement. If it’d been any other professor, she certainly would’ve gotten points docked off! Her head whipped up, her chestnut curls following.
The brightest witch of her age might’ve even had a heart attack when she saw a calloused hand stretched out in front of her.
Hesitantly, she glanced back up at the scarred face that would bring her comfort for confirmation.
He smiled and lightly nodded, flexing his fingers a little as if to indicate it was alright.
Without a second thought, the brightest witch of her age placed her delicate hand in the werewolf’s rough and calloused ones.
And for the first time in years, she felt truly safe, not like with Harry, where she felt all warm inside, but really safe.
They stood there for a few moments in complete silence, save for the wind howling and a few owls hooting in the distance.
Mustering up the courage that was responsible for her sorting, the thirteen-year- old found her voice again.
“Thank you.” She breathed out.
As if a switch had suddenly turned on in his head, the aging werewolf glanced down at his watch, an odd item for wizard to have, yet useful nonetheless.
“Merlin’s beard!” Remus exclaimed. “Breakfast is almost over, we’ll both be late for our next class if we don’t head back to the castle. Would you mind if I accompanied you on the way down?” Remus asked the young witch before him.
“Of course, professor.” She beamed up at him, buckteeth and all.
Discussing magical theories and various defense methods, the two made their way back to the castle and headed towards his classroom. Chatting animatedly, the pair hardly noticed the questioning looks they received from several portraits in the halls. Before they knew it, Remus and Hermione were standing in front of the DADA room.
Suddenly, Hermione remembered something.
“Professor,” Hermione started. “It’s Christmas...” She trailed off.
A shocked expression appeared on his face. “Well, I suppose an apology is due, I’m sorry for dragging you all the way here, especially on Christmas.” He profusely apologized.
Hermione laughed. “It’s quite alright professor, in fact, I really enjoyed spending my Christmas morning with you.” She shyly admitted, a faint blush dusting her cheeks.
Beaming, Hermione happily hurried away towards the Library, eager to get in some reading time before lunch. However, she didn’t see the light smile that formed on Professor Lupin’s face as he watched her skip away.
A smile that hadn’t been there for many years.
