To the Moon
Jan. 2nd, 2007 12:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morgynleriTitle: To the Moon
Word Count:
Status: incomplete, on hold
Genre: Romance, Drama
Rating: R
Warnings: nudity
Comments: Characterization, as have little plot as yet... and I am hoping to do something other than semi-plotless fluff
Chapter 1
Hermione hurried through Diagon Alley, trying to ignore the whispers and stares that followed her.
"Isn't she a friend of Harry Potter?"
"Doesn't she care what she looks like?"
"How can she still be single?"
Her jaw tightened, and she bit back the desire to snap at the speculators. I'm still single because no one appeals, except people who are nowhere to be found. Why would anyone subject themselves to someone they don't find attractive just for the sake of being not single?
Turning down the narrow gap between two stores, she reached out a hand to trace a simple glyph on the fence that blocked the alley before stepping forward through it, and leaving the gossip behind. The solitude of Quiet Alley surrounded her like a balm that soothed the sting of the whispered questions.
"Miss Granger." Her neighbor waved to her from her porch, the woman pale from rarely stepping outside her house, giving her the slightest of smiles.
"Good afternoon, Mistress Erinye." Hermione's brows drew together as she frowned, stopping at the gate at the street. "What brings you out of your lab today?"
Belladonna Erinye beckoned her forward again, waiting until Hermione came up onto her porch to speak.
"A dodgy man came poking around your house a few days ago. He left when I came outside, so I didn't mention it. But he came back today, and he broke in through the back door."
"Did you call the hit wizards?" Hermione's pulse quickened, thinking about what - and who - she'd rather the Ministry not find in her house. Not that they were dangerous if you knew what you were doing, just illegal to harbor. Worthy of a life sentance in Azkaban.
"Don't be foolish, Miss Granger. They aren't welcome here." Belladonna gave her an irritated look. "After all, isn't that why you moved here when we advertised the auction of Amyicus' house?"
She'd had to clean the deceased Death Eater's house out meticulously when she'd moved in, but it had provided her the perfect place to establish her mission. And the advertisement of Quiet Alley being low-crime had helped. Less crime would mean less interference from the authorities, and a greater chance for her to help those orphans no one else wanted.
Hermione nodded. "Thank you for the warning."
"Of course." Belladonna paused. "And if you need wolfsbane next full moon for those kids, I'll brew it for you."
"Thank you. You don't have to do that for me."
"I know. Someone needs to look out for those children, and I'd like to help with what I can. My house certainly isn't safe for them, not unless they're old enough to start learning my trade." Belladonna chuckled softly, shooing Hermione towards the street once more before slipping back into her house.
One of the children met Hermione when she opened the door, his eyes wide in his small face. "He's a big wolfie, Aunt 'Mione."
"Who's a big wolfie, Ian?" Hermione frowned, following the child as he tugged her upstairs. "And where is he?"
"He's in your room, Aunt 'Mione. The other tubs are too small." Ian gave her a look that made Hermione bite back a sigh. It had been a while since she operated on the simple logic of a child.
Hermione stopped outside her room, kneeling down so her eyes were on level with Ian's. "If I don't come out before dinner, Ian, you and Merideth go next door to Mistress Erinye's house, and you tell her what you told me, and bring her here. Can you do that, sweetling?"
"Yes, Aunt 'Mione." Ian nodded solemnly, scampering towards the stairs after she stood.
Drawing her wand, Hermione carefully opened the door just enough for her to slip in, padding towards the bathroom.
~ ~~ ~
Remus heard the door to the bedroom creak open, and the nearly silent tread of someone coming across the room. He knew that tread, even though he hadn't seen the owner in years. A weary smile came to his lips, but he didn't open his eyes.
"I'm not going to bite, Hermione. And I'm sorry about the door."
He heard a gasp behind him. "Remus?"
"In the flesh, for the most part." He reached his left hand across the tub to rub the stump where his right hand should have existed. After he and Tonks had fallen into the trap set for them by the Death Eaters, he'd avoided wizarding society for a long time. What would a werewolf who'd lost his wand hand do in this world, anyway?
The rustle of fabric announced her movement, and Remus opened his eyes as Hermione came into his line of sight. Her brown eyes had dark circles under them, and her hair looked like little more than frizz barely contained by a dull scarf. Frayed robes and blunt nails completed the picture of hassled caretaker as she settled the chair from the vanity near the tub.
"You look like hell," he observed quietly, and she snorted, a wry smile gracing her lips.
"You don't look well yourself." Hermione sat down, her eyes studying his face with an intensity he remembered from teaching her in her third year. "How did you find me?"
"A werewolf couple I met a few months ago left their children here because it's safer than being on the run with them. They told me where to look." Remus shrugged, shifting in the cooling water.
"Incalfacio." A twist and flick of Hermione's wand returned the water to a blissfully hot temperature.
"Thank you." Remus sank down in the water again, more of the chill that had crept into his bones slowly melting away. He tried to ignore the ache that accompanied the kind gesture from Hermione, despite knowing that he couldn't have done anything to change what happened years before.
Hermione watched himfor a long moment more, then muttered under her breath, her wand moving in a complex series of figures, enlarging the tub to almost twice its size, and turning on the taps once more to fill it to the level he had earlier.
Remus raised an eyebrow as she shed her clothing, and slid into the tub across from him.
"The water looked inviting." Hermione shrugged, giving him a small smile. "So did the company."
"A one-handed starving werewolf old enough to be your father?" Remus shook his head. "How is that appealing?"
"It doesn't matter to me how old you are, I can correct the starvation with enough time, and I work with werewolves every day, Remus." Hermione reached out to take the stump of his right hand, bringing it to her lips to lightly kiss it. "As for this? A badge of honor for your valor in the war, and your dedication to those you love."
Remus jumped when she touched his arm, unused to human touch. He shivered when she kissed the scars, trying to remember how long it had been since the last time a woman had actually looked at him with desire. No one since Tonks had died. Pity, revulsion, and fear he could still remember seeing. But the recollection of someone desiring him had faded.
Hermione shifted, crawling on her knees over to him, summoning something with a murmur. Remus tensed reflexively, forcing himself to relax as she opened the bottle, letting him smell the contents.
"It's just soap, Remus," she said softly, summoning a rag, and pouring a generous dollop out.
Relaxing back against the tub, Remus closed his eyes again as she began to clean the grime ground into his skin with gentle strokes.
~ ~~ ~
The brief surge of desire Hermione had felt when she'd found Remus in her bathtub faded as she cleaned him. Staving indeed. I can count his ribs without even trying. Her fingers traced over sunken and pale cheeks, and she scowled, mentally cursing the Ministry and their restrictive policies that regulated people like Remus to the fringes of society, when they didn't destroy them altogether.
"You're staying for dinner." Hermione met his gaze with a firm expression as he opened his eyes, willing him not to argue with her. She would have to rearrange her meals a bit to accomodate him, but she would find a way. It wouldn't do to let him leave, and starve on the streets of London when she could help him.
"If I'm not putting you in danger by being here." Remus shifted again, his face clouding with worry. "I think one of your neigh..."
Hermione hushed him with a stern look, and a finger over his lips. "Mistress Erinye has less reason than I to wish the Ministry around here. She'll not tell anyone, and risk loosing her livelihood, and her home just for one werewolf."
"Then I'll stay, since you insist." A smile played on his lips, his shoulders straightening as if a weight had lifted from them.
You'll stay as long as I can get you to stay. Someone needs to take care of you, and I'll be damned if there's anyone else out there truly willing to do so.
Chapter 2
"Merideth is the oldest, she's fifteen, and then Alex, who's thirteen." Hermione pointed out the children as she told Remus their names, standing in the arch that divided the large front room from the dining room. "They usually keep the others entertained while I'm out of the hosue. And teach them what magic they can."
"And you've kept the Ministry from raiding this place looking for the source of the magic when you're not here?" Remus watched her face as he spoke, noting the fleeting grimace before she smiled brightly.
"They haven't come by here, though they've asked me if I have any room mates. I tell them I allow my neighbor to make use of the kitchen, since she does apothecary work from her home, and can't have food contaminating her work. They've never investigated beyond that, as far as I know."
She nodded to the two small children setting the table. "Those are the youngest, Ian and Alice, both six. Alice is Alex's younger sister, and he's very protective of her. Vivian is directing them, she's twelve. Sharon and Mark should be in the kitchen, helping Merideth with dinner tonight."
"What about Alex?" Remus thought that the teen the most likely to have wielded the beater's bat when he'd jimmied the lock on the kitchen door earlier.
"He's at Mr. Rover's," Ian piped up as he set the last plate at the end of the table nearest them. "He's learning to fight, so if anybody tries to hurt Alice again, he can hurt them."
"Alex spends most of Thursday and Friday over at Lennox Rover's. He's offered to teach the older orphans how to shoot a gun, and how to fight without a wand. Something that Alex is very determined to learn." Hermione frowned slightly. "He would dearly love to use his skills on the werewolf who bit Alice, if he ever meets him."
Word Count:
Status: incomplete, on hold
Genre: Romance, Drama
Rating: R
Warnings: nudity
Comments: Characterization, as have little plot as yet... and I am hoping to do something other than semi-plotless fluff
Hermione hurried through Diagon Alley, trying to ignore the whispers and stares that followed her.
"Isn't she a friend of Harry Potter?"
"Doesn't she care what she looks like?"
"How can she still be single?"
Her jaw tightened, and she bit back the desire to snap at the speculators. I'm still single because no one appeals, except people who are nowhere to be found. Why would anyone subject themselves to someone they don't find attractive just for the sake of being not single?
Turning down the narrow gap between two stores, she reached out a hand to trace a simple glyph on the fence that blocked the alley before stepping forward through it, and leaving the gossip behind. The solitude of Quiet Alley surrounded her like a balm that soothed the sting of the whispered questions.
"Miss Granger." Her neighbor waved to her from her porch, the woman pale from rarely stepping outside her house, giving her the slightest of smiles.
"Good afternoon, Mistress Erinye." Hermione's brows drew together as she frowned, stopping at the gate at the street. "What brings you out of your lab today?"
Belladonna Erinye beckoned her forward again, waiting until Hermione came up onto her porch to speak.
"A dodgy man came poking around your house a few days ago. He left when I came outside, so I didn't mention it. But he came back today, and he broke in through the back door."
"Did you call the hit wizards?" Hermione's pulse quickened, thinking about what - and who - she'd rather the Ministry not find in her house. Not that they were dangerous if you knew what you were doing, just illegal to harbor. Worthy of a life sentance in Azkaban.
"Don't be foolish, Miss Granger. They aren't welcome here." Belladonna gave her an irritated look. "After all, isn't that why you moved here when we advertised the auction of Amyicus' house?"
She'd had to clean the deceased Death Eater's house out meticulously when she'd moved in, but it had provided her the perfect place to establish her mission. And the advertisement of Quiet Alley being low-crime had helped. Less crime would mean less interference from the authorities, and a greater chance for her to help those orphans no one else wanted.
Hermione nodded. "Thank you for the warning."
"Of course." Belladonna paused. "And if you need wolfsbane next full moon for those kids, I'll brew it for you."
"Thank you. You don't have to do that for me."
"I know. Someone needs to look out for those children, and I'd like to help with what I can. My house certainly isn't safe for them, not unless they're old enough to start learning my trade." Belladonna chuckled softly, shooing Hermione towards the street once more before slipping back into her house.
One of the children met Hermione when she opened the door, his eyes wide in his small face. "He's a big wolfie, Aunt 'Mione."
"Who's a big wolfie, Ian?" Hermione frowned, following the child as he tugged her upstairs. "And where is he?"
"He's in your room, Aunt 'Mione. The other tubs are too small." Ian gave her a look that made Hermione bite back a sigh. It had been a while since she operated on the simple logic of a child.
Hermione stopped outside her room, kneeling down so her eyes were on level with Ian's. "If I don't come out before dinner, Ian, you and Merideth go next door to Mistress Erinye's house, and you tell her what you told me, and bring her here. Can you do that, sweetling?"
"Yes, Aunt 'Mione." Ian nodded solemnly, scampering towards the stairs after she stood.
Drawing her wand, Hermione carefully opened the door just enough for her to slip in, padding towards the bathroom.
Remus heard the door to the bedroom creak open, and the nearly silent tread of someone coming across the room. He knew that tread, even though he hadn't seen the owner in years. A weary smile came to his lips, but he didn't open his eyes.
"I'm not going to bite, Hermione. And I'm sorry about the door."
He heard a gasp behind him. "Remus?"
"In the flesh, for the most part." He reached his left hand across the tub to rub the stump where his right hand should have existed. After he and Tonks had fallen into the trap set for them by the Death Eaters, he'd avoided wizarding society for a long time. What would a werewolf who'd lost his wand hand do in this world, anyway?
The rustle of fabric announced her movement, and Remus opened his eyes as Hermione came into his line of sight. Her brown eyes had dark circles under them, and her hair looked like little more than frizz barely contained by a dull scarf. Frayed robes and blunt nails completed the picture of hassled caretaker as she settled the chair from the vanity near the tub.
"You look like hell," he observed quietly, and she snorted, a wry smile gracing her lips.
"You don't look well yourself." Hermione sat down, her eyes studying his face with an intensity he remembered from teaching her in her third year. "How did you find me?"
"A werewolf couple I met a few months ago left their children here because it's safer than being on the run with them. They told me where to look." Remus shrugged, shifting in the cooling water.
"Incalfacio." A twist and flick of Hermione's wand returned the water to a blissfully hot temperature.
"Thank you." Remus sank down in the water again, more of the chill that had crept into his bones slowly melting away. He tried to ignore the ache that accompanied the kind gesture from Hermione, despite knowing that he couldn't have done anything to change what happened years before.
Hermione watched himfor a long moment more, then muttered under her breath, her wand moving in a complex series of figures, enlarging the tub to almost twice its size, and turning on the taps once more to fill it to the level he had earlier.
Remus raised an eyebrow as she shed her clothing, and slid into the tub across from him.
"The water looked inviting." Hermione shrugged, giving him a small smile. "So did the company."
"A one-handed starving werewolf old enough to be your father?" Remus shook his head. "How is that appealing?"
"It doesn't matter to me how old you are, I can correct the starvation with enough time, and I work with werewolves every day, Remus." Hermione reached out to take the stump of his right hand, bringing it to her lips to lightly kiss it. "As for this? A badge of honor for your valor in the war, and your dedication to those you love."
Remus jumped when she touched his arm, unused to human touch. He shivered when she kissed the scars, trying to remember how long it had been since the last time a woman had actually looked at him with desire. No one since Tonks had died. Pity, revulsion, and fear he could still remember seeing. But the recollection of someone desiring him had faded.
Hermione shifted, crawling on her knees over to him, summoning something with a murmur. Remus tensed reflexively, forcing himself to relax as she opened the bottle, letting him smell the contents.
"It's just soap, Remus," she said softly, summoning a rag, and pouring a generous dollop out.
Relaxing back against the tub, Remus closed his eyes again as she began to clean the grime ground into his skin with gentle strokes.
The brief surge of desire Hermione had felt when she'd found Remus in her bathtub faded as she cleaned him. Staving indeed. I can count his ribs without even trying. Her fingers traced over sunken and pale cheeks, and she scowled, mentally cursing the Ministry and their restrictive policies that regulated people like Remus to the fringes of society, when they didn't destroy them altogether.
"You're staying for dinner." Hermione met his gaze with a firm expression as he opened his eyes, willing him not to argue with her. She would have to rearrange her meals a bit to accomodate him, but she would find a way. It wouldn't do to let him leave, and starve on the streets of London when she could help him.
"If I'm not putting you in danger by being here." Remus shifted again, his face clouding with worry. "I think one of your neigh..."
Hermione hushed him with a stern look, and a finger over his lips. "Mistress Erinye has less reason than I to wish the Ministry around here. She'll not tell anyone, and risk loosing her livelihood, and her home just for one werewolf."
"Then I'll stay, since you insist." A smile played on his lips, his shoulders straightening as if a weight had lifted from them.
You'll stay as long as I can get you to stay. Someone needs to take care of you, and I'll be damned if there's anyone else out there truly willing to do so.
"Merideth is the oldest, she's fifteen, and then Alex, who's thirteen." Hermione pointed out the children as she told Remus their names, standing in the arch that divided the large front room from the dining room. "They usually keep the others entertained while I'm out of the hosue. And teach them what magic they can."
"And you've kept the Ministry from raiding this place looking for the source of the magic when you're not here?" Remus watched her face as he spoke, noting the fleeting grimace before she smiled brightly.
"They haven't come by here, though they've asked me if I have any room mates. I tell them I allow my neighbor to make use of the kitchen, since she does apothecary work from her home, and can't have food contaminating her work. They've never investigated beyond that, as far as I know."
She nodded to the two small children setting the table. "Those are the youngest, Ian and Alice, both six. Alice is Alex's younger sister, and he's very protective of her. Vivian is directing them, she's twelve. Sharon and Mark should be in the kitchen, helping Merideth with dinner tonight."
"What about Alex?" Remus thought that the teen the most likely to have wielded the beater's bat when he'd jimmied the lock on the kitchen door earlier.
"He's at Mr. Rover's," Ian piped up as he set the last plate at the end of the table nearest them. "He's learning to fight, so if anybody tries to hurt Alice again, he can hurt them."
"Alex spends most of Thursday and Friday over at Lennox Rover's. He's offered to teach the older orphans how to shoot a gun, and how to fight without a wand. Something that Alex is very determined to learn." Hermione frowned slightly. "He would dearly love to use his skills on the werewolf who bit Alice, if he ever meets him."