Loving Lupin

    The following day, Hermione received a letter from a big spotted owl at breakfast. Mystified about who it could be from, she quickly tore it open and read it.

Dear Miss Granger,

I again want to apologise for the way I acted last night. I truly crossed the line. Even though you have said you have forgiven me, I just want to apologise again for violating you in any way. I should have known much, much better. I am also offering something to you: Because of my behavior, I will gladly resign if my presence in this school makes you uncomfortable. I cannot hurt you any further. My deepest, and most heartfelt apologies, Miss Granger.

Sincerely,

Professor R. J. Lupin

    Hermione gasped loudly. Harry and Ron gave her an odd look, but they didn't speak. They had become used to Hermione's acting strange at random times, and they rarely bothered her anymore about this behavior.

    "I have to go," she whispered, throwing the letter into her bag and standing up. "I'll see you two later."

    "Is something wrong?" asked Harry, looking alarmed.

    "No," mumbled Hermione, stepping past him and running out of the hall.

"Something's definitely wrong with her," muttered Ron. "She's been acting loony all week."

    "Do you think it has something to do with Professor Lupin again?" suggested Harry thoughtfully, putting his fork to his mouth. "Or maybe the Age Potion?"

    "Naw, I don't think so," replied Ron, rolling his eyes. "You know Hermione. She's probably uncovering some huge Hogwarts secret, like that the portraits are underpaid or something."

            * * *

    "Professor? Professor?" Hermione peeked into Lupin's classroom, hoping to find him.

    He wasn't there. Hermione stamped her foot in frustration and crossed her arms, wondering what she should do. He was always talking about how much work he had-- why wasn't he there doing it?! She sighed and began walking back towards the Great Hall. There was nothing she could do, really, so she might as well head back towards the Great Hall. Just as she was doing this, a small, red-haired figure came speeding down the hall, knocking into Hermione as she passed her.

    "Ginny?" exclaimed Hermione.

    "Oh, Hermione!" cried Ginny, turning to face her. Hermione noticed with dismay that tears were pouring down the youngest Weasley's cheeks. "Oh!"

    She flung herself forward onto Hermione's shoulder and wept openly.

    "Ginny, Ginny, what happened?" murmured Hermione consolingly. "Tell me what happened."

    "It's... Harry," gasped Ginny. "I went... and I... told him what I told you... And I thought he would..." She was overtaken with sobs again and buried her head in Hermione's shoulder.

    "What did he say?" exclaimed Hermione, forgetting to be sensitive for a moment.

    "He just... he didn't say anything. He went pale and I... I ran out!" blubbered Ginny miserably.

    "Oh, Gin," whispered Hermione. "I'm so sorry."

    "It's all right, I suppose," sniffed Ginny, beginning to regain control of herself. "But... I wish I had never told him!" She broke into a fresh onslaught of tears.

    "Do you want me to walk you to the common room, Ginny?" asked Hermione in a low voice.

    "No, I'll be okay." She paused for a moment, then said, "I hope Harry doesn't hate me forever."

    "Hate you? Why would he hate you? You just told him you liked him. If anything, he'll just be flattered." Hermione gave her a small hug as she said these words. She knew they weren't entirely true-- No, Harry wouldn't hate Ginny, but he might be terrified of her.

    Ginny left Hermione standing in the middle of the hall, slightly more comforted than when she had first left the Great Hall. Hermione, however, was far from comforted; she was very anxious about her red-haired friend, and she almost wanted to march back into the Great Hall to straighten things out. But after seeing Ginny, she didn't really have any desire to go back into the Great Hall, where chaos was probably brewing; Ron would be laughing hysterically, and Harry would look as if he'd just gone through another near-death brush with the Dark Lord. No, Hermione had a different idea. She'd check on the teacher's lounge to see if she could catch Professor Lupin.

    That's when it hit her. No one would be in the teacher's lounge this time of day. It was breakfast; everyone was supposed to be in the Great Hall. Hermione suddenly realised that Professor Lupin HADN'T been at breakfast, and he wasn't in his classroom-- so where was he?!

    Don't tell me he went to the Shrieking Shack again, thought Hermione angrily. If that's where he went, then that's where I'm headed. But I'll check the teacher's lounge first.

    Hermione meekly stuck her head in the teacher's lounge, hoping to catch Professor Lupin. She knew that stricly, she wasn't supposed to be there, but she figured that since this was an emergency, it was okay. For a moment, Hermione thought the lounge was empty, but then suddenly, someone spoke.

    "Miss Granger?"

    Instead of Lupin, as Hermione had hoped for, it was Professor Severus Snape. Hermione gasped and stumbled backwards, her eyes wide with fear.

    "What are you doing here?" he asked coldly, his eyes flashing with malice.

    "I was looking for Professor Lupin," she said in a small voice, her cheeks flushing.

    "You seem to be often looking for Professor Lupin," replied Snape coolly. "I've noticed that you and he have been spending a lot of time together, have you not?"

    "How would you know?" snapped Hermione.

    "Don't take that tone with me," snarled Snape. "Five points from Gryffindor."

    Hermione breathed deeply, trying to regain composure. "Well, is he here, sir?"

    "No, he is not." Snape smiled cruelly and shifted his hands around in his robe pockets. "What do you need him for?"

    "I need to talk to him," breathed Hermione.

    "About what?" pressed Professor Snape.

    Hermione paused, then whispered, "It's private."

    Snape towered over Hermione and murmured in a silky voice, "I would watch your step from now on. Professor Dumbledore wouldn't like it if he knew about you two."

    "What?!" shrieked Hermione, pulling away from Snape. "I mean, what do you mean by that?" Her hands were shaking as she ran them through her thick hair.

    "Don't try to play stupid with me, Granger," hissed Snape, his malicious eyes narrowing. "Lupin is a miserable creature. Never before has he come into this staff room whistling as if he'd just won 2,000 galleons. Nor has he ever smiled when a certain student's name is mentioned. Never until now."

    "I don't know what you're talking about," muttered Hermione, her cheeks now a flaming red.

    "All I'm saying is to watch it, Miss Granger," warned Snape. "You forget that he is twice your age. And that he is a professor... And you a mere student. And a very shifty one at that."

    Snape then left, leaving a furious Hermione behind him. Deciding that she shouldn't be alone in the teacher's lounge, lest she be caught and get in trouble, Hermione decided to go back to her common room. Breakfast was not quite over yet, and she didn't feel like facing Harry or Ron at the moment. As she headed towards the Gryffindor common room, her recent conversation with Snape whirled around in her head. "Never before has he..." All those "never before has he" statements made Hermione feel both abashed and angry at the same time. Why was Lupin stupid enough to flaunt the fact that he was... Hermione blushed. Why was Lupin stupid enough to let other people know that he was in love? Then again, she felt pleased; if Lupin was acting that way, he must certainly have feelings for her.

    Where is my mind? thought Hermione dizzily, rushing up the stairs to her dormitory. This is a professor we're talking about. A 32-year-old professor.

The sun streamed through the windows. A ray caught Hermione's face, making her skin sparkle like sun on the snow. Yes, he is a professor, mused Hermione. And a very handsome one at that.

    She grinned self-conciously and headed down for her first class, which was, incidentally, Defense Against the Dark Arts.

    After DADA class, Hermione bid Harry and Ron a farewell (much to their amusement and puzzlement) and walked up to Professor Lupin's desk. She waited until the class had mostly drifted out before she spoke.

    "Professor?"

    Lupin snapped his neck upwards and stared at Hermione. "Oh, Miss Granger," he muttered, turning pink.

    "I just wanted to talk to you about your letter," she said matter-of-factly.

    "Oh?" he repeated, lowering his eyes and refusing to look at her.

    "Yes. I don't want you to resign. Actually, the truth was... I kind of liked it," she added in the tiniest of voices.

    Lupin slowly moved his eyes upwards at Hermione, his face white with shock. As he stood, Hermione expected to see something on his face, such as excitement, confusion, or even happiness-- but it was only anger. His hands were shaking as he gestured towards the door.

    "You shouldn't have come here," he whispered. "Please leave."

    "Professor, I wanted to--"

    "Leave. Please. Now." Lupin's eyes were now filled with only fury. "You were wrong to have told me such a thing. Leave!"

    "I'm sorry," whispered Hermione, her heart thumping uncomfortably in her chest. What had she done? She had thought he would be happy with her announcement. After all, Snape had said that he was-- he was-- in love with her!

She suddenly realised that she was still standing in Lupin's room, with the professor glaring at her resentfully. Hermione clutched her books to her chest and scampered out, a few tears making their trails down her cheeks.

    "What have I done?" she mumbled, knocking into a tall Slytherin girl as she rushed into the hall.

    "Watch where you're going!" shouted the girl as Hermione passed her.

    "Watch where I'm going?" muttered Hermione. How can I? she thought. How can I watch where I'm going when I suddenly feel as if I'm totally lost?

    That night, she secretly dug into Harry's bookbag and extracted the remaining Aging Potion from among the books. This was all she needed to make Lupin love her. And if she could make Lupin love her again, then everything would be all right....

    She put the vial to her lips, but suddenly pulled it away. What if Lupin rejected her again? What if he didn't love her? What if... Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and corked the little vial of Aging Potion again. This was all so stupid. She loved Professor Lupin, when she should not; she was simply a schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher. I sound as bad as Mary Ann, she thought amusedly, her mind drifting back to a girl in her Muggle school who'd had a desperate crush on a tall, handsome professor called Professor Miles.

    She began to ponder her love for Professor Lupin. He had once loved her, when she had been in her older form; and even after she had become a mere 15 years old again, he had loved her. But suddenly, he had rejected her, and seemed to claim no love for her. It could be true, that he was only playing, so that their passion would not be fully unfurled; for if it was, trouble could be stirred within the school. However, Hermione would have rather been ashamed of having an affair with a professor than be like she was then. She had never experienced the dreadful feeling of lovesickness, and it was quite new to her; she had no idea how to handle it. Oh, sure, she loved Harry, and she loved Ron, but it was only brotherly-like love. It was never a desperate love, a longing love-- the type of love she held for Professor R. J. Lupin.

    Again Hermione put the vial to her lips. All she had to do was tip it back into her throat, and she'd be old again. Old enough to be worthy of Professor Lupin's love.

    "Hermione?" Harry peeked into the girl's dormitory shyly. He spotted Hermione with the vial to her lips and raised his eyebrows. "What are you doing?"

    "Nothing!" snapped Hermione, shoving the vial underneath her bedcovers. "What are you doing in here?!"

    "Is that the Aging Potion?" asked Harry incredulously. "What are you doing with that?"

    "It isn't," Hermione lied, a cruel expression crossing her face. "Can you please leave? I'm studying."

    "That IS the Aging Potion!" he exclaimed, moving towards her slowly. "Tell me what you're doing with it!"

    "Nothing!" squeaked Hermione, tears welling her eyes. "Leave me alone!"

    "It's Professor Lupin, isn't it?" gasped Harry. He went pale when Hermione hesitated.

    "No!" shrieked Hermione. "It's nothing! It's nothing!"

    "Hermione, you can't do this," moaned Harry, his hand fluttering to his forehead. "He's a professor, for goodness' sakes! He's got to be at least 40!"

    "He's only 32," replied Hermione defensively.

    "32? He's twice your age," Harry said anxiously, staring at her as if he was trying to pull clues from her face. "You can't... he's a professor!"

    "Oh, Harry," whimpered Hermione, the tears escaping her eyes. "I'm horrible."

    Harry didn't come and put his arms around her, as he should have done. He just stood there and stared at his crying friend, wondering what to do, how he could help... And if he could stop her before she made the biggest mistake of her life.

    "Has anything happened between you two?" asked Harry in a rush, suddenly looking panicked. "Did he touch you?"

    "Yes," replied Hermione, looking shocked that Harry was so concerned. "He touched my hair once and we..." She turned bright red. "We kissed."

    "Oh my gosh," groaned Harry, his lovely green eyes shutting tightly behind his round glasses. "You really are in deeper than I thought."

    "Harry, nothing bad is going to happen," said Hermione dreamily. "I have the Aging Potion. Then we'll always be together."

    "Hermione, no," cried Harry. "You can't do this." He sat on the bed next to her and grabbed her shoulders. "You can't do this!"

    "Why can't I?" sneered Hermione, wriggling out of Harry's grasp. "I'll do what I want."

    Immediately Hermione regretted being so cruel. Harry's face fell, and the hard look of concern turned soft and hurt.

    "I'm sorry," she muttered, her head tipping forward. Long tendrils of hair fell around her face.

    I've never seen her so sad and beautiful, thought Harry, his hand reaching out to touch her shoulder. I wish I could do something. But when you're in love...

    "You're right, Harry," she said quietly, slipping the vial into her robe pocket. "I can't do this."

    "Give me the potion, please," demanded Harry.

    Hermione pouted. "Why?"

    "I just want to make sure." He nodded emphatically, and Hermione produced the vial of Aging Potion.

    It's lost, thought Hermione, staring at the potion as Harry pocketed it. The love is lost forever.