A Midsummer's Journey

My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody- Midsummer's Night Dream

Breathing deeply, he caught their scent. Goblins. They had the most distinctive odor of rotting fish and sourwood. Though the goblins had made a term of peace with the wizarding world, Lupin knew as the hair on his neck stood up, that this was an ambush. Tremendously greedy, these goblins were probably after the reward offered by the Dark Lord for those who worked against him.

Clutching his wand under his cloak, he quickened his pace, ever aware of their presence drawing closer and closer. They were herding him, he realized, as he neared a wider part of the path he was on, his nose alerted him to the fact there were two position to the right. Glancing quickly in that direction, he understood what was about to happen and smiled. Continuing on, he grasped his wand more firmly as he neared the spot. Pointing his wand above his head shouting, 'Sensio!', he dove, tumbling, as the net that was positioned above him was released.

Coming up on one knee, clear of the fallen net, he pointed his wand in their direction and shouted, "Impedimenta!" A grunt and thud told him he had been successful. Scrambling to his feet, he heard the click of a weapon being fired as a bolt caught in his robes. Turning, he pointed his wand and again cast the Impedimenta hex. Running, he heard guttural curses and more movement coming toward him from the side. The click of more bolts being fired at him gave him moments to dodge and twist out of the way of the flying ammo. When he knew they were close enough, he swung about shouting, 'Stupefy!' as a red light shot from his wand. He heard the grunt and watched as one fell. Another was running on his right side, and he sent another bolt from his wand as he hexed it.

Distancing the goblins behind him, he was caught momentarily off guard as one stepped out of the bushes in front of him. He raised his wand, but not before the bolt was released from the crossbow the creature held. Remus felt the sting of the bolt as it grazed his shoulder, hexed the creature and ran on. Running up the path, he heard more movement coming swiftly several hundred yards behind him. He didn't know how many there were and did not relish all the magical emanations he would have to use to fight much longer. Swiftly, with a catlike agility, he dodged in and out among the trees and bushes when suddenly, his right shoulder clipped a tree and he stumbled. How unlike him, he mused.

Hearing the crash of creatures coming through the forest now ahead and behind him, he cast a glamor. Getting to his feet, he had barely ran ten yards before he stumbled again.

Fire shot down his arm, and he reached up to feel the place the bolt had grazed. He did not need to see the thick gelatinous liquid he felt on his fingers to know that he had been poisoned. His vision blurred, and knowing he would have to get out of there quickly, he Apparated.

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Falling hard on his knees, he felt the pain as the stones and limbs poked and prodded him. He had Apparated to the only place he could think of outside the cottage. The brush pile he had made when helping Hermione their first day in the garden. Staring at the fence, he concentrated on following it around to the gate. The magical wards prevented him from climbing over, and as he stumbled for the third time he wasn't sure that he would make it there.

A thud outside the door brought Hermione to her feet in alarm. It was very late and she was already anxious because Remus had not returned yet. Clutching her wand, she crept to the door and opened it just a crack. She gasped as she saw Remus there, his breathing laboured, blood running down his shoulder. He tried to get up, but stumbled into the door instead. Grabbing his shoulders, she dragged him inside as he crawled.

"My god, Remus what happen..."

"The door," he slurred, his head rolling with the words.

She ran over to shut it.

"Prae...praem..." He kept trying to make the words form in his head.

"Praemunio?" He nodded. Turning back to the door, she cast the securing spell.

Kneeling down beside him, she tried to look at the wound on his shoulder.

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"Get me upstairs," he mumbled. Pulling him up, she draped his arm across her as they stumbled upstairs. Helping him over to the bed, he sat there trying to will his head and eyes from spinning. "My bag in the top drawer..."

Hurrying, she opened the dresser and pulled out a small leather valise. Bringing it to him, he opened it and fumbled with the items inside. Finally, he pulled out a small jar. Opening it, the aroma of camphor and bittersweets filled the room. Dipping some inky black substance out, he attempted to rub the ointment on his shoulder but missed, falling back onto the bed.

"Here, let me," she murmured, trying to keep down the hysteria she felt. Taking the jar, she gently rubbed the ointment into the wound, thankful it wasn't very deep.

"Careful," he whispered, "there is poison around it." Her fight with hysteria was sorely being tested.

"Poison? No, you're not going to..." She couldn't bring herself to say it.

"They would not have wanted me dead. Could... could not have questioned me that way."

His eyes were rolling, trying to focus on her face. "It will be okay," he assured, giving her a wry smile. "I am afraid that I will pass out soon," he said, his voice slurring. "Please don't be alarmed."

Don't be alarmed? She felt like screaming at him for trying to calm her.

"Please don't worr..." He had passed out. Hermione wanted to scream, throw something, fling the door open and curse every object she saw.

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"NOOOOO!"

Hermione jerked awake, pulling her wand out as she rose. Looking around, she saw only Remus as he thrashed on the bed. He was still asleep, sweat streaming down him. She hurried to him wanting to wake him, but could not get near him as he jerked violently.

"No, no, no, don't let them see her... run, hurry."

Hermione's mouth gaped.

"Sirius, run, don't let them take you, run, I will hold them off... wait, where is she... where... no... I won't accept that... let me go.... HERMIONE!"

She clamped her hand to her mouth as a sob escaped her. He was in torment. She couldn't stand it.

"Remus, Remus!" She was slapping at his cheeks as he struggled. "Oh, please wake up, oh pleas..." She stopped as he opened his eyes, looking at her wildly.

"Oh, thank God. You were scaring me."

"Hermione?" he asked vaguely as if he didn't know her.

"Yes, I am here, you were having such a terrible..."

But she didn't finish as Remus reached out, grabbing her around the waist, pulling her into kneeling position on the bed as he buried his head in her lap.

"You're safe, you're safe, I thought I failed; I thought they had got you..." he said brokenly.

Stroking his hair as she felt him shake, she said gently, "Shhh, it was only a dream. I am safe. You haven't failed me. It's alright."

She continued to stroke his hair as he cried into her lap, murmuring comforting words to him, as she would have a child.

Finally, he raised his head, sitting up to look at her. She gave him a small smile. "Bad dream?" she asked, trying to make light of it.

He didn't answer, but held her gaze with his soft gray eyes, shining bright. Reaching out, he picked up a curl that lay on her shoulder, and began twirling it gently on his finger, caressing it.

Hermione held her breath; she was afraid that her breathing might break the spell he was under. Was it the poison still working on him?

Never taking his eyes from hers, he pulled the curl out, bringing it to his mouth and kissed it. She had to take a breath and gasped as it rushed from her. His eyes had gone smoky and questioning. Did she want him to kiss her? Oh, that was ludicrous, she thought, it's just the effect of the poison. Or was it? Her eyes betrayed her as she wondered what it would be like to kiss him, as she had the other times she thought he might, and before she could think anymore, he had pulled her to him and was pressing his mouth over hers.

She had imaged kissing him would have been like Ron's kisses: sweet and gentle, but she shuddered as she felt the lips on hers burn, searing as they bruised hers, taking her breath with their intensity. His mouth forced hers open as his tongue sought hers and she tasted the saltiness of the tears that he had been shedding.

"Sweet, so sweet," she heard him whisper between kisses. The fear that had flooded her when he had first started kissing her melted, as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He rolled her over on to her back, still kissing her deeply.

When she thought she could no longer breathe from the driving kisses, he wrenched his mouth from hers and began kissing her face. She let out a small moan as he moved down to her neck, bit her ear lobe and returned to kiss her again. This time it was she who opened his mouth timidly, tasting his tongue. Hearing him moan in return as she explored his mouth, she gained courage and reached up and began running her hand through his hair while the other played with the taut muscles around his neck.

Pulling away from her, he rose up on his arms as he gazed down at her. His eyes sought hers again, smoky and passionate, again seeking an answer to a question. Answering, she lifted up enough to pull the shirt she was wearing over her head, and she heard his breathing grow deeper, as he too took off his.

He was solid, lean and lithe, inviting, she mused as she reached up to tentatively rub a finger down the hollow of his chest, giving him a small smile. Smiling, he came back to her, giving her the impression of the wolf he turned into once a month. "Beautiful," he murmured as his mouth found hers again, his hand running down her side, tracing the contours gently, sending ripples through her.

When he left her mouth, he began kissing gently down her throat, to the swell of her breast above the lacy bra, and she arched her back to press against his body.

As she felt his arousal against her, she was scared, not of him but of the unknown. It felt like she was watching this happen to her from a haze. Though Ron had taken a few liberties when they were going together, it had never been like this, so passionate, so wild. Was this all right? Should they, and if they did, what did it mean?

Sensing her hesitation, he kissed his way back to her lips gently, slowly pulling each lip into his mouth, running his teeth against it. This time, the question wasn't asked with a look, but when he nuzzled her neck and whispered into her ear. "Sweet, sweet Hermione." His voice was husky and warm in her ear. "I want you more than anything I have ever wanted in my life." She shivered at the desire she heard in his voice. "But above that, above anything, I want you to be alright. Do you understand me? All you have to say is no."

All I have to say is no? Insane, she thought, when every fibre of her being was screaming to have him close to her. He rose up once more, looking at her more quizzically now, an almost embarrassed expression on his face. Smiling, she felt the yearning to have him as near to her as possible, as she reached up for him.

He resisted and now it was her turn to look at him questioningly. Closing his eyes, she watched, as he seemed to struggle with something for a brief moment, before he leaned down, capturing her mouth once more, with an intensity that took her breath away.

I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell,
To die upon the hand I love so well.