The Sorrow That Comes With It

It seemed no matter how early Hermione got out of bed to prepare breakfast, Remus always beat her to it. As she yawned, slowly trailing down the stairs, he had already been sitting by the kitchen table for hours and was now busy watching the sunrise. They said a low good morning and Hermione got right on breakfast, making tea, frying eggs and sausages, toasting bread and setting the table.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" she asked, as she put down the sugar bowl in front of Remus.

"An hour or so," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

She served him some food and poured hot water into his tea cup, humming slightly to herself to fill up the silence.

"I was thinking I'd sweep the floors today," she announced, "and then tomorrow I'll do the windows and change all the tablecloths and that sort of thing. I'd really appreciate it if you'd help out a bit."

Remus' eyebrows shot up at his forehead; the thought of actually doing something seemed familiar, yet distant, and it looked like he was trying to remember how to do anything besides just sitting here by the window.

"Err... Sure. Why not."

He swallowed a piece of egg. Hermione was glad to see he was eating something, though it wasn't much; he was mostly picking at his food with the fork.

"And then, later this evening," she went on, "maybe you could help me study? I have this essay on how to brew the Wolfsbane Potion. Completely theoretical, of course, since it's quite complicated, but still, I think I've got the hang of it. But it couldn't hurt for you to take a look at it, could it?"

"I appreciate what you're trying to do," Remus replied slowly, "but you don't need my help for that, Hermione. You've never needed any help with anything."

He smiled at her - the first smile she'd seen in ages that wasn't just an empty gesture, and it made her somehow feel proud of herself.

After having finished the breakfast dishes, Hermione grabbed Remus by the arm and pulled him away from the kitchen. A wonderful look of confusion danced across his pale face as she shoved a broom into his hands.

"Right. Now, I'll take the basement as well as the first and second floor, and you take the third and fourth. There's no point in cleaning the attic, since no one ever goes there anyway. Any questions?"

Remus looked terrified.

"Err... No."

As she went up the stairs she couldn't help but to giggle at the thought of lost little Remus, doing chores for the first time in years.

They both worked hard until noon, sweeping the floors and removing piles of dust from the corners, and, even though she had three floors and Remus only two, Hermione finished hers way before he did. This gave her time to prepare lunch. And then after lunch, they were at it again, dusting all the surfaces in the house and removing spider webs from the ceiling. By four o'clock in the afternoon, Hermione declared the house "good for now", and they sat down in the drawing room sofa to catch their breaths.

"You look shaken," Hermione teased.

"Traumatized is more like it. I had no idea this place was that gross."

They laughed at his comment for a moment, and then he added: "I'm glad you're here, Hermione. It's nice to feel distracted for once."

"I'm just glad I could help."

Remus nudged her leg with the tip of his foot, vaguely smiling. A warmth reached Hermione's heart as she thought about what a difference there was between Remus now and Remus a few days ago. He was actually smiling, joking even. Though he still looked torn and sad, there now seemed to be a spark in his eyes that she hadn't seen since back when he was her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. That spark, and that discrete smile, made him look so beautiful, but in a sad sort of way, and she got the sudden urge to touch him. She didn't.

"Don't you have some homework to do?" he asked.

"Don't you have some sitting-around to do?"