Loving Lupin

Professor Dumbledore paused before speaking. He was breathing calmly through his long, crooked nose, and his expression was quite serene. When his blue eyes fell upon Hermione, his face softened into what must have been an expression of pity. Ron had again moved towards Hermione and firmly grasped her around the shoulders, as if something might come and tear her from him again.

"I was most worried when I found that you three were here with Professor Zochnik," he explained quietly. "I thought you could use some assistance."

"How did you know we were here, sir?" asked Ron in a quavering voice. He seemed much more concerned with avoiding trouble than he did with Professor Zochnik.

"When our impostor Moody was er-- removed, shall I say, I came into possession of some of his belongings," said Professor Dumbledore, his glasses slipping down his nose. "I happened to find a very interesting map of the school that has proven quite useful."

Dumbledore glanced meaningfully into Harry's direction, and Harry felt slightly weak in the knees. Though he did not expect to be in any trouble for having used the Marauder's map on other occasions, he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty under Dumbledore's penetrating eyes.

"You are probably also wondering why your esteemed Professor Zochnik turned so suddenly on you," continued Dumbledore in the same calm voice. "It turns out that she is not the trained professor I had thought her, but rather a very well-qualified werewolf huntress."

"What?!" exclaimed Ron, tightening his grip on Hermione in surprise.

"Ouch, Ron," mumbled Hermione.

Ron smiled apologetically at her, then turned his attention back to Dumbledore. "What do you mean, sir?"

"You are perhaps not aware of it, but there is a small, radical group of wizards and witches who call themselves the Moonfall. They believe that werewolves are the most evil and terrible of creatures, and that their 'breed' should be eradicated."

"But that's not true!" protested Hermione, speaking to Dumbledore directly for the first time since his entrance.

Dumbledore stared down at her. "Of course it isn't true, Hermione. But it is hard to dissuade someone once their minds are set. Professor Zochnik was a member of the Moonfall that was particularly bent on finding one werewolf that had constantly eluded their grasp: Remus Lupin.

"Of course, Remus isn't a fool, and he has his own methods of concealment. Zochnik was finding it near impossible to find him, until another member of the Moonfall discovered this tracking device which his parents used on him as a child. Seeing that the bracelet was constantly spelling out the location 'Hogwarts', she applied for the Dark Arts opening. There was only one hitch in the plan, however: Miss Granger had the ring, not Remus. She needed to find a way to send the ring back to him so that the device could track him properly. How exactly she intended to send the ring back once it was in her possession, I do not know, but I plan to examine her once she wakes." He stared down at the crumple of robes at the feet of the three students.

"How do you know all this?" asked Harry in amazement.

Dumbledore smiled, almost mischievous-like. "I have friends in many areas, Harry. You will find that it does one well to keep friends in as many places as possible."

"Er-- Professor?" squeaked Hermione.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"About Remus-- Professor Lupin, I mean-- is he... all right?" Her eyes were fearful as she cautiously turned them towards the Headmaster.

"Yes, Miss Granger," replied Dumbledore, his eyes sparkling. "He is fine. And he sends you the warmest of greetings." He paused, then pulled out his twelve-handed watch. "It is growing late. I want you three to go directly back to your dormitories before being caught off grounds by any teachers. I assume that you have much studying to do, anyway."

"But, Professor--" Harry interjected, his green eyes flicking to Zochnik.

"I will deal with her. Go, now, and quickly," he instructed briskly.

There was an awkward silence between the three as they walked back to the castle. Ron kept glancing edgily at Hermione, but she kept her eyes turned towards the dewy grass at all times. Harry's eyebrow gave an uncomfortable twitch as he watched the two. The tension between them was practically tangible. At last, Ron spoke.

"Hermione, I-- er-- back there-- I--" He broke off.

"Yes?" Hermione inquired in a voice that was much too formal and polite.

"I meant what I said back there," Ron finished finally, his ears the color of strawberries.

"Thank you, Ron," Hermione said simply.

"Er... well... I was also wondering..."

"Yes?"

"Well... er... what you thought about it all."

Hermione paused thoughtfully before replying. The sky was beginning to grow hazy as dusk approached, and the reddish sunlight reflected off Hermione's hair and eyes oddly, giving her an ethereal sort of glow. When she lifted her head to look at Ron, yellowish tears were glimmering in her eyes. Harry had never seen anyone so sad and so lovely at one time.

She's beautiful, thought Harry, awestruck.

"It was very kind of you," Hermione finally managed to whisper.

"That's not really what I meant," replied Ron, a touch of annoyance creeping into his voice.

"I know," said Hermione quickly.

Harry carefully took two steps to the side so to put some distance between himself and the couple. The tone of their conversation was so unnatural that it made him want to scream. He felt that there was no real way he could help, but then again, there was no way he wanted to stay between them if there was nothing for him to contribute.

"Then why are you being so difficult?" Harry heard Ron suddenly snap, obviously out of patience at last.

"Do you think it's easy for me?" shrieked Hermione, rounding on Ron. The tall red-head visibly jumped backwards a few inches, startled by his best friend's sudden outburst of emotion. "Do you really think it's that easy, that I can just decide right away? Because it's not!"

"Well, excuse me for not being a mind-reader!" bellowed Ron, his paleish face turning bright scarlet. "I guess I should've known EXACTLY how you feel, since you've been so OPEN and all!"

"Shut up, Ron," hissed Hermione severely.

Ron's face crumpled, and for a moment, it almost looked as if he was going to cry. But no, Ron wouldn't have dared cried in front of Hermione. His expression had just melted from rage into one of helplessness, as was indicated by the next words he spoke.

"I like you, Hermione. I don't just like you-- I... I fancy you," Ron said in an oddly strangled voice.

"Ron," said Hermione heavily, an air of resignation in her voice. "Ron. I really, really like you. You and Harry are my best friends. But I... I don't really like anyone," she sighed.

"Except for Profess--"

"Don't." It was Harry who spoke this time. "Don't, Ron. Let her be."

Ron looked momentarily stunned that his best mate would take Hermione's side, but he didn't speak. Instead, he jammed his hands into the pockets of his robes and grumbled lightly to himself. Hermione looked almost amused, but the seriousness of her next words showed that she was not at all amused. Quite the contrary, she was taking the whole situation probably more seriously than either of the two boys.

"We've always been friends. Can't we stay that way?" asked Hermione, her tone pleading.

Ron's expression stirred. He gave the setting sun a long look before turning his brown eyes back onto Hermione.

"I guess," he replied moodily, kicking at a clod of grass.

Hermione beamed happily, leaning upwards on her toes to give Ron a kiss on the cheek. Ron smiled, almost sheepishly, before glancing over at Harry, who was by this time a few feet away-- still in hearing range, but not quite close enough to be involved.

"Come on!" he ordered bossily, beckoning for Harry to come closer. "If we hurry up, we'll be in time for dinner."

And the three friends quickly scampered back to the castle, their minds at last content but their stomachs quite eager for nourishment.

     * * *

Hermione gave a heavy THUNK! as she sat down at the Gryffindor table the next morning-- or rather, her knapsack did. Ron and Harry exchanged looks between one another, then looked back at Hermione, waiting for her to explain. Her eyes were all alight in an excitement that only S.P.E.W. could bring to them. The boys shifted uncomfortably in their seats and waited for a full-fledged lecture about house elf rights, but to their treat, Hermione was not concerned with house elves.

"I've been doing lots of research about the Moonfall," Hermione explained, pulling out a surprisingly skinny pamphlet with the luminescent words "Moonfall: Ridding the World of Half-breeds, One Species at a Time" scrawled across the top. "Apparently there are all sorts of different branches of them, some who hunt giants, others who hunt vampires. They all call themselves different things, but they're pretty much the same. Many of them are in league with Voldemort, since, well, you know, he doesn't much approve of half-breeds... Especially not half Muggles," she added sadly.

"Just because you have Muggle parents doesn't make you a half-breed!" snarled Harry, shocked that Hermione would take these radical ideas so to heart.

"Oh... Oh," she murmured distractedly. "I know, I know. But the point is... We could've recognized Zochnik from the start. I can't believe Dumbledore didn't."

"Dumbledore probably did," said Ron savagely. "He just trusts people too much and doesn't expect them to turn out as dirty as they really are."

"How do you recognize them?" Harry asked, ignoring Ron's slander about Dumbledore.

"It's her eyes." Hermione smiled proudly. "Every member of the Moonfall has a funny sort of charm on their eyes. Their eyes contain a bit of moonlight in them, so that when they look upon a werewolf, he'll be transformed. Not completely, of course-- a little hair on the knuckles might form or something-- but just enough so that the Moonfall can recognize them as a werewolf and... try to... well, you know." She swallowed nervously, and Harry realized that she was thinking of Lupin's safety.

"I'm sure he's fine," Harry reassured her in a low voice. "You heard Dumbledore-- he has his own ways of concealing himself."

Hermione smiled weakly. "Oh, I know, Harry, I bet he's very safe wherever he is." But she didn't look at all convinced.

"I don't know how you find time to study AND to do research," grumbled Ron. "I have enough to do with studying for our Transfiguration O.W.L."

Hermione shrugged indifferently, but she looked quite pleased with herself anyway. "We've only two more O.W.L.s left, anyway. You'll be fine. Of course, I'm very worried about my Potions O.W.L., I have to make that up later tonight after we're finished with our other exams, but I do expect that--"

"You'll be fine," Harry finished for her, echoing her own words of encouragement.

She smiled over at Harry, and he felt himself smiling back. Ron snorted derisively. He had not yet gotten over the fact that Hermione only liked him as a friend, and it would take all of summer vacation for him to mend his bruised ego.

"End of the year is approaching fast," Hermione said suddenly, her eyes glazing over. "Soon it'll be summer."

"Are you going to take anyone to the End-of-the-Year Feast?" Ron asked, practically staring Hermione down.

"Oh, Ron, I don't think it's that sort of thing. I know Dumbledore said there'd be dancing, but I doubt anyone's bringing dates." She brushed a tendril of hair out of her eyes and began to pore over an advanced Transfiguration book.

Ron shrugged before pretending to be interested in the eggs on his plate. It was several minutes before Hermione noticed that Harry kept glancing dodgily down the table. Ginny was laughing at something Colin Creevy had just said, but unless it was Hermione's imagination, she kept glancing back at Harry.

"Something wrong, Harry?" Hermione leaned back and grinned in satisfaction.

"No... Nothing," he mumbled distractedly.

"What's going on?" snapped Ron irritably.

"Nothing," Hermione echoed Harry. "Come on, let's go, we'll be late for our O.W.L."

The Boy Who Lived blushed deeply before throwing Hermione a deeply grateful look when Ron wasn't looking.

     * * *

"I thought that was rather easy, don't you think?" replied Hermione cheerfully as they exited the Transfiguration room.

"Speak for yourself," grumbled Ron, shoving past her, looking positively greenish.

"His clock grew wings," Harry whispered furtively to Hermione.

"Oh." Hermione's cheeks flushed. "I shouldn't've said anything."

"It's all right," Harry shrugged, hurrying to catch up with Ron. "Oh, no..."

A formidable trio was approaching: Draco Malfoy, flanked by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy was looking particularly murderous-- he had probably just failed one of his O.W.L.s miserably, and didn't seem too happy about it. As soon as he spotted Hermione, Ron, and Harry, an unbearable smirk grew on his face. Harry gritted his teeth, all too ready for a slew of nasty comments to shoot themselves out of Malfoy's mouth.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Mudblood, followed by Dumbledore's favorite boy and his insufferable lap dog," sneered Malfoy. "Did you find Lupin in pieces, like I said, Granger, or was there time enough to snog him?"

"Shove off, Malfoy!" growled Ron viciously.

Malfoy smirked up at Ron. "No one asked you, Weasley."

"I don't recall having to be asked," retorted Ron.

"Oh, you're just jealous because Granger's still running around with the werewolf," yawned Malfoy, running one of his pale hands through his bleach blonde hair. "Though I don't know why you're so jealous. I mean, look at what you're getting jealous over, after all." Sniggers came from the vague rock-like figures to the right and left of Malfoy.

"Is there a problem here?" Professor McGonagall was suddenly staring down upon the six students. She had an expression of annoyance, but Harry noticed it was mostly directed towards Malfoy and his companions.

"No, Professor," replied Malfoy in an almost mock-polite voice. "I was just discussing Miss Granger's relationship with the former Professor Lupin."

Professor McGonagall's expression gave a start. "What on earth are you suggesting, Malfoy?"

"Oh, you don't know?"

By then, a curious crowd had begun to crowd around the six students and their professor. Hermione's cheeks began to burn. Parvarti Patil and Lavender Brown were gasping and whispering to each other, while several Slytherins, one of which being Pansy Parkinson, crossed their arms and looked pleased. Malfoy smiled confidently, encouraged by the gathering crowd.

"Know what, Mr. Malfoy?" snapped Professor McGonagall.

"Granger and Professor Lupin were *in love*," he laughed, his steely eyes glinting maliciously.

A stunned silence fell over the crowd. Professor McGonagall's jaw dropped momentarily. Hermione had to clap her hands over her mouth to stop a forsaken shriek from escaping her mouth. Now they all know, she thought desperately. Now they all know about everything... I'm done for.

It was a few seconds before Professor McGonagall seemed to come to. When she did, her eyes were positively flaming with rage.

"How DARE you, Mr. Malfoy!" she shrieked, her hand shaking as she pointed a single finger at him. "How DARE you!" She paused, her breath shuddering as she drew quick gasps. Her rageful eyes began to travel across the crowd, and the sight of the students' shocked faces only seemed to fuel her anger even more. "And YOU lot! Believing him! I am utterly ASTONISHED! I expect better from MANY of you!"

Guilt washed over the majority of the crowd member's faces, but most of the Slytherin's faces remained hard. Hermione noticed-- quite gleefully, too-- that Lavender Brown had burst into tears, and was muttering, "I'm terrible! All this time I've... Oh..." while Parvarti tried to comfort her.

"Come with me, Mr. Malfoy," snarled McGonagall, snapped her fingers. "We'll see that you're properly punished. As for the rest of you, get back to your Common Rooms and study for your upcoming exams, instead of listening to such garbage as this!"

The crowd slowly dissolved around Hermione, but she felt rather glued to the spot. Her emotions were mixed-- she was overwhelmingly grateful towards Professor McGonagall, but she felt incredibly guilty for having her professor's confidence, when in fact, she was guilty for the crime for which Malfoy was accusing her. Her two best friends must have sensed her unease, and Ron leaned down and gripped her shoulder.

"Come on," he said gruffly, leading her away from the remaining mob of students. When they had made their distance, Ron choked, "Well, that was... interesting."

"Malfoy is a git," raged Harry through gritted teeth.

"Let's just forget it," said Hermione quickly.

"Yeah, you're right. End of term's coming, I don't want to think about Malfoy." Ron gave the ceiling a moody glance.

"What's wrong, Ron?" Hermione asked concernedly, sensing something was amiss with her friend.

Ron swallowed quickly before speaking. "It's just... Even if we're 'just friends'... Can we still dance at the end of term feast?"

"Oh, Ron!" giggled Hermione, looping her arm through his. "Of course we can... Of course."