The Rules of Engagement

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Friendship
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Severus slid into his seat at the staff table a little later than usual on Monday morning. After his shameful behavior last night, he was hoping to avoid Hermione this morning. He poured himself a cup of coffee, then turned to look at the man beside him. Hermione was right, Lupin was looking ill. The werewolf saw him looking and his brow raised.

“Good morning, Severus.”

“Good morning, Lupin,” Severus returned the greeting automatically. “How are you this morning?”

Lupin stopped mid-sip of his tea, turned back to Severus, who gave him an impatient sneer.

Lupin swallowed finally. “I’m . . . um . . . fine. And how are you, Severus?”

“You do not look fine. You look positively peaked. Have you been to see Poppy?” Severus replied. The werewolf’s brow knit tighter.

“And why do you . . . Oh! She put you up to this, didn’t she?” Lupin gave him a knowing smile, that thoroughly annoyed Severus. They both glanced at the Gryffindor table to find the place between the red and black head’s vacant of the woman in question. “Have a good time with Hermione, did you?”

Severus didn’t like the insinuation. “That is none of your business, Lupin. Now answer the question,” he growled at smirking man.

“Which question was that?”

“Have you been to the bloody infirmary?” Severus snapped out in far too loud a voice, catching the attention of several other staff members and some of the closer students. Lupin watched the dark man for a moment, then sighed.

“Yes, I’ve been to see Poppy.”

“And?” Severus asked, annoyed at having to draw the information out.

“She doesn’t know. She’s tried all manner of diagnostic spells and can find nothing wrong,” Lupin said as he pushed his barely touched plate of food away from him.

“Well there is obviously something the matter. You look nearly a stone* lighter than when you arrived at the beginning of term. I see you are not eating,” Severus said, indicating the plate in front of the other man. “Are you sleeping at all?”

“Very little lately. I’m tired, but when I lie down I become restless. And before you ask, sleeping potions do not help.”

“Is it only around the full moon?”

“No. It’s worse before and after, but now its all the time.”

Severus’ eyes narrowed as he pondered this information. “Any other symptoms?”

“Well . . . nothing relevant,” the werewolf said, looking away from him.

“What is it?” Severus demanded, but Lupin just looked embarrassed. “Are your . . . other appetites effected?” Yes, that must be it, Severus thought. “When was the last time you . . . indulged in the company of a woman?”

“When did you last indulge?” Lupin snapped back.

“My appetites are not in question. How long?” Lupin was staring at him and then sighed.

“If you must know . . . four years.”

“Four years?” Severus said incredulously. “That is not healthy for any man, much less one of your constitution. Is it opportunity or drive?”

“Up until about a year ago it was opportunity, now I don’t even feel the urge anymore. Much to some seventh year girls chagrin, I’ll have you know,” Lupin said, trying to gain back some pride. Severus was quiet for a few minutes.

“You say Poppy has already tried diagnostic spells?” Severus stated more as a running thought than a question, but Lupin nodded anyway. “Perhaps she has found nothing because she is treating you as a man.”

Lupin’s face drew into an angry glare and he set down his teacup rather hard.

“Do not get your hackles up. I was merely stating a fact.” But the werewolf continued to glare. Severus sighed in frustration, he was only trying to be helpful, after all. “Poppy is using spells meant for humans. You are, at all times, a werewolf, whether in this form or the other.”

The fair haired man’s face relaxed a bit, but he still looked none too pleased. Then a sudden light came to his eyes. “You mean it may be a malady that only effects werewolves.”

“Precisely,” Severus said, nodding in agreement.

“Never having communed with other werewolves, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I will start some research and let you know if I find anything,” the dark man said, as he began eating his breakfast.

“Thank you, Severus. If I can help in any way . . .”

“I do not believe my sources would be . . . receptive to you.”

“Ah, I see,” Lupin said, sitting back in his chair.

“But until then,” Severus said, pulling the plate back in front of Lupin. “you will eat.” The werewolf looked at him and laughed. Lupin did eat some more, but not enough to satisfy Severus, who threatened to harass the DADA Professor at every meal.


*a stone is equivalent to about 14 lbs.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione had avoided breakfast in the Great Hall, but Harry and Ron were not going to let her get away with not coming to lunch. Luckily, classes had been busy enough that they had not been able to inquire about her date with Severus, though she could see Harry was burning with questions. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement to eat first and grill Hermione later, which she was thankful for since she had missed breakfast.

During the meal, she had caught Severus’ eye a few times. He would not smile, but he would loose his sneer and incline his head slightly. But he seemed too busy making Remus eat to pay much attention to her. She smiled at the realization that he was asking and looking after Remus’ health for her. Maybe she could ask him what he found out after class tomorrow. As she looked to her side, she saw Harry looking at her intensely and biting his lower lip.

“For Merlin’s sake! Ask, before you chew your lip off,” Hermione told Harry.

“Ginny made us promise not to ask,” Ron said, throwing his sister a glare. Hermione laughed and looked around at her friends. Even Neville sat anxiously waiting to hear about her date with the Potion’s Master.

“Thank you, Ginny,” Hermione said gratefully to the red headed girl who smiled back at her. Hermione sighed gently, then sat forward leaning her arms on the table and watched as they all leaned further in, which she found rather funny.

“There isn’t much to tell really.”

“See!” Ron let out in a harsh whisper.

“Ron!” his sister warned. “Where did he take you, Hermione?”

“Snape Manor.”

“Oy, I knew he was cheap, but . . .,” Ron said.

“Ron!” Both Hermione and Ginny snapped.

“Did you have a good time?” Neville interjected before Ron could dig himself in any deeper. Hermione smiled at him in thanks.

“Yes, I did actually. The manor is lovely, especially the gardens. He gave me the tour of the grounds and the house. The library is amazing,” she said, looking each of them in the eye.

“So . . .,” Harry asked impatiently. “What do you think?”

“Well . . .I liked him, the way he was yesterday. He opened up more than I would have expected,” she said, knowing full well that Harry wanted to know if she was going to pick the Professor or not. She just didn’t know yet. Severus had offered her an out, by telling her to choose Rose. She was seriously considering taking it.

“Did he kiss you?” Ginny asked. All three boys shot the red head a look, but then turned slowly to Hermione when she didn’t say anything. She felt her face beginning to turn red.

“Did he, Mione?” Harry asked gently. Despite her blushing, she smiled at them.

“Yes, he did, but it isn’t what you think. He kissed me in my room last night, then left in a hurry.”

“Probably ran back to his room for a good wank,” Ron said.

“RON!” the four others shouted in unison, gaining them unwanted attention from the other students.

“Honestly!” Ginny snarled at her brother, “If you cannot be supportive, then piss off!”

“What. . .? I know how well Mione kisses. Crikey , wanking off after is good snog was what I used to do,” he said, earning him a moan from the rest of the group.

“On that particularly charming note, I’m leaving,” Hermione said standing up, only to run into Rose as she stepped away from the bench.

“Running away from me now?” Rose asked lightly, a brow cocked in good humor. Hermione smiled at him.

“I didn’t see you there.”

“Just wanted to make sure we were still meeting in the library tonight.”

“Yes, I’ll come up after dinner.”

“Good. I’ll walk with you to class since we both have Defense Against the Dark Arts next.”

“Alright. See you later guys,” Hermione called to her friends.

~^~^~^~

Defense Against the Dark Arts was one of Hermione favorite classes. Remus really was an excellent teacher. Today, however, he kept shooting her odd looks every so often. When class was nearly over he walked by her desk and stopped for a moment.

“See me after class, Miss Granger,” Remus said. Hermione looked up at him puzzled, but his expression gave nothing away.

“Yes, Professor Lupin,” she said, seeing some of the other girls cast her envious glares.

After the students had gone, Remus closed the door and walked over to her as she stood by his desk.

“Why didn’t you ask me yourself?” Remus asked gently, before sitting on the edge of his desk. She put her books down and looked him in the eye.

“Because you know you wouldn’t have told me. Your friends are worried about you, Remus.”

His eyes dropped to look at his hands on his lap. He appeared so young just then, owing in part to his lost weight and the hair hiding his face. Hermione stepped closer, placing a hand on his upper arm. He looked up meeting her eyes. There was the age and the harshness of his life written clearly across his face. Remus sighed.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. At least he didn’t say he was fine, she thought.

“But I do, Remus. Your silence only makes it worse. Let us help you.” Remus laughed softly and drew her into a hug. She held him to her, but was saddened to have the proof in her arms of how he was wasting away.

“So your idea of help is sending ‘Snivellus’ after me?” he said with a chuckle. Hermione winced at the name.

“Sorry. Severus is only trying to help.” Remus hugged her tighter, resting his head on her shoulder. He relaxed when she began smoothing his hair in a comforting manner. “The truth is I don’t know what’s the matter. There is nothing for me to tell you. Severus did have an interesting theory though.” He raised his head looking her in the face while keeping his arms around her.

“What theory?”

“It may be an illness to which only werewolves are susceptible. Severus was going to attempt to research the problem.“

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

Remus gave her a half smile. “It’s something anyway.” Then he raised an eyebrow at her. “Did you tell him to be so damned annoying?”

Hermione laughed at the petulant look on his face. “I just asked him to find out what was wrong.”

“Well, he’s becoming a damn annoying mother hen, watching every bite of food I put in my mouth.”

“Good,” Hermione said laughing, “It saves me the trouble.” Remus laughed too, then he turned more serious.

“How are things with you? Made a decision yet?” he asked. Hermione stepped back out of his arms and sighed, shaking her head slightly.

“I just don’t know. I like Rose, he’s sweet, but I found myself liking Severus too yesterday.”

“Are you sure you are not just flattered by Mr. Green’s attentions?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and moving back into his role as Professor.

“I could hardly not be flattered. Rosemond Green, pride of Ravenclaw wants to marry me.”

“Yes, Mione, but he is still a man. As is Severus. The threat from Malfoy is real, but momentary. Your marriage will be for a lifetime.”

“Severus had offered to marry me, then wait out the year. Wouldn’t an annulment be possible?”

Remus studied her carefully. “It might, but that would be a risky assumption.”

“Why risky?”

“Hermione . . . you are a beautiful young woman and Severus is a lonely man. I think once he was your husband, he would want to act the part.” She blushed a bit.

“He . . . Severus said he would never touch me, unless I wanted him to.”

“Don’t you think you would want him to touch you?” She crossed her arms and felt herself turning an even brighter shade of red.

“I . . . I don’t know and I’m running out of time.”

Then a sudden inspiration came to her. “Do you think Professor Dumbledore might have any insight on this matter?”

“He may. The Headmaster is most often in his office before dinner. I’m sure he would be happy to talk with you.”

“Thanks, Remy. I better go before I’m late for Herbology.” Hermione grabbed her bag and waved to Remus as she went out the door. Yes, maybe Dumbledore could give her some advice.

~^~^~^~

Hermione sat in the Headmaster’s office sucking on a lemon drop watching the old wizard pull on his beard thoughtfully. She had sent her books back to the common room with Ron. Then she had admitted every bit of confusion in her head to Dumbledore, but he hadn’t said a word.

“Sir? Do you have any advice?” Hermione asked trying hard to mask her impatience.

“I am not certain what you wish for me to say, my dear. I cannot tell you whom to choose, that is a decision you will have to make, as it is you who will have to live with the consequences.”

“I know, sir, that is why I need your counsel. I don’t know what to do,” Hermione admitted in a testy voice.

“I am sure you will make the right choice when the time comes,” Dumbledore said getting to his feet. “I will walk with you to the Great Hall.”

Hermione barely covered a aggravated huff. She had been so sure Professor Dumbledore could help her. She still believed she should pick Rose. As Remus had said, Malfoy was threatening her at the moment, but he would soon grow tired of this game, wouldn’t he? Especially after Draco married, there would be no hopes of his plan working. That is, if he wanted to do things nice and legal, the voice in her head reminded her and since when did Lucius worry about what was legal.

Hermione sighed deeply as they reached the bottom of the stairs and walked into the hallway. She nearly froze in place as she saw the tall black figure of the Potions Master coming towards them, and looking none too pleased. Her fantasy from last night flashed into her head and heated her face.

“Ah, Severus. Did you wish to see me?” the Headmaster asked in a cheery voice. Severus’ dark eyes scanned Hermione quickly, then turned to the old wizard.

“Not if it takes you away from Herm . . . Miss Granger.” His dark eyes darted to her again.

“We were just finished Sev . . . Professor.” This whole situation truly was ludicrous, she was glad she was choosing Rose. Maybe.

“If that is the case . . .” But Severus never finished his thought, as just then the front doors of the school burst open with a loud bang, causing several students nearby to yelp in fright.

As Hermione looked at the spectacle, she saw it was Remus carrying the limp body of someone. Her heart began to race. It was a black haired boy. Gods no, not Harry. But when the werewolf collapsed to his knees, the body in his arms rolled to the floor and the face turned towards her.

“Rose! Sweet Merlin no!” Hermione was running over to the body on the floor before her mind decided she should move. Remus was panting heavily and unevenly from his exertion. She knelt beside the unconscious boy on the floor. Putting a hand to his face she felt his skin was clammy, but still warm. He wasn’t dead, thank the gods. Pushing the hair away from his face, she saw red on her hand. She stared at it for a moment, then felt someone pulling her away.

“Hermione, move away!” a deep voice whispered harshly in her ear. “Let the Headmaster take Mr. Green to the infirmary.”

The hands on her shoulders pulled her back, then helped her to stand. She watched as Dumbledore used ‘Mobilicorpus’ to levitate Rose to the infirmary.

“Her . . Hermione” Remus panted out. ” So sorry. Attacked . . . .in the village . . . . hit . . . his head.” She suddenly noticed Remus looked even worse than he did before and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. She knelt beside him, looking worriedly into his face.

“Remus, are you alright?” Hermione didn’t have time for proper titles as she was concerned for her friend. He looked up and tried to wave her away, but almost collapsed.

“Go . . . go . . I’m alright,” he said, his amber eyes trying unsuccessfully to reassure her. She looked up at Severus imploringly. He nodded his dark head, so she stood.

“Please look after him,” Hermione told Severus, before she took off for the hospital wing at a full run.

By the time Hermione reached the infirmary, Rose had already been laid in a bed and Madam Pomfrey was fussing over him. She overheard Pomfrey telling Dumbledore the prognosis.

“It’s the conk on the head that’s knocked him out, but he does have a hex burn on his leg. Some healing potion and a potion for concussion and he should be right as rain by morning.”

“Good, good Poppy. I imagine . . . Ah, there you are Miss Granger. You heard, Mr. Green will be alright?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, sir. May I stay with him?” Hermione asked. Pomfrey began shaking her head.

“He is not likely to wake up. Come back in the . . .” She stopped as the Headmaster held up a hand.

“Miss Granger should stay, if it makes her feel better. I am certain she will not get in the way, Poppy,” the old wizard said.

“Very well, Headmaster,” Pomfrey said while still looking put out.

“I will let Remus and Severus know that all is well. You may stay as long as you like, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said, patting her on the shoulder then going out the door.

Hermione stood staring a the unconscious pale faced Ravenclaw as Pomfrey dripped potion into his mouth. Because of me, her mind shouted over and over. If he had died, his death would have rested on her shoulders. What the hell was he doing in the village? Because he didn’t know he was in danger, she realized, I never told him. She was still staring at Rose when she heard the infirmary door open again. Turning, she saw it was Draco.

To the common observer, the look on his face might have appeared to be his usual sneer, but to Hermione’s more practiced eye, she could see the blonde was about to come apart at the seams. The muscle of his left eye twitched as did the right corner of his mouth and his eyes were just slightly wider than normal.

“Draco?” Hermione asked softly.

“Something the matter, Mr. Malfoy?” Pomfrey’s clipped voice asked over Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione turned to the older witch not certain if Draco could speak without loosing his composure.

“Head Girl business, Madam Pomfrey. May we use the private room for a few minutes?”

The old witch looked them over, then nodded curtly and went into her office. Hermione lead Draco in to the room used by Remus when he was recovering from the full moon and it had been used before by Severus when he had returned from dark revels. She closed the door and cast locking and silencing charms. She turned to her companion to find him shaking badly and breathing rapidly.

“Mione . . . I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for . . . I’m so sorry,” Draco got out before breaking down in tears. She instinctively wrapped him in her arms. He was near hysterics, this was not like Draco at all.

As she was holding him, she noticed he had on his outer cloak and he smelled of night air. A slow comprehension dawned on her. She pulled back to look in his face. His red watery eyes stared back at her pitifully and he nodded his head.

“You? You did this to Rose?” Hermione said incredulously, pulling away from him.

“I had to! If I hadn’t Father would have killed him. I only meant to injure his leg with a burning hex. He would have limped back to the castle and been healed. Father would have chalked it up to bad aim. But when the hex hit his leg he . . . he fell and hit his head on a rock. I never meant to hurt Rose like this, Mione, you have to believe me. I didn’t mean it.” Draco broke down into anguished sobs. Hermione lead him to sit on the bed and took him in her arms, rocking him gently.

“Draco, I know you didn’t mean to hurt him. Shhh, it’s alright. Rose is going to be fine, don’t worry.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you never talked to me again,” the blonde wailed miserably. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Shhh, it’s alright now.” Hermione rocked him until he had calmed down, but he still clung to her tightly. She pushed him up to sit on his own and pulled out her handkerchief. As she cleaned his face, Draco stared at her with dull eyes. When she had finished, she rested her hands in her lap and looked back at him.

“I won’t come around anymore,” Draco said softly.

“And why would you do that? It only means I would have to come looking for you,” Hermione said, taking his hand.

“Hermione . . .,” he said, shaking his head.

“It was an accident and he’s going to be fine. Stop beating yourself up. You did the right thing.”

Draco looked at her, his brow knit together. “I really don’t deserve you, you know,” She smiled back at him, then leaned forward and kissed him lightly. Pulling out her wand she cast a refreshing charm on his face, then took down the spells on the room.

“You should get back to your common room.”

Draco hugged her again tightly, then put his Malfoy airs back in place and left the infirmary. Pomfrey was in her office, so Hermione went to sit next to the sleeping man on the bed. He looked so innocent in his sleep, oblivious to the dangers of the world and maybe that was best. Hermione sighed and began making plans for the following day.


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