The first snowfall of the season made the land look like a picture postcard. Hermione never tired of how beautiful Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were during the winter. As a child, it seemed to be even more magical when everything was covered in a blanket of white and glistened with ice. She would think of the books she’d read as a child with Snow Queens and palaces of ice as she walked the snow covered paths.
She was older now, but it still had the same effect on her. For a few brief moments as she stepped out of the castle and inhaled deeply, she was a child again; she was no longer twenty-seven, no longer a respectable professor known for not tolerating flights of fancy when they interfered with learning, and no longer someone who seemed to have forgotten the definition of ‘fun’ over the years.
Unfortunately, that feeling didn’t last long. She became aware of the frigid cold that made her cheeks sting and her face flush. It was also difficult to walk outside in this weather, which meant she rarely left the castle during winter in the six years she had taught Arithmancy at Hogwarts.
She rarely looked upon her injuries as anything more than a fact of life. After the war, she was glad to be alive. If that meant dealing with a limp and scars on her leg so be it. It was only when her favorite season began that she resented being unable to enjoy it as she once did. The resentment always made her feel guilty, as if not being able to easily walk in the snow was worth sulking when she was alive to enjoy the view while many others weren’t.
The grounds were quiet, which wasn’t surprising as it was barely dawn. She could move around in the castle extremely well and knew that a lot of students didn’t even notice she dragged her right leg or used a cane after the novelty wore off. However, she didn’t want any of them to see her struggle to walk through the snow and give them a reason to be distracted in class. It was impossible to resist the lure of the first snowfall, though.
“You need a scarf.”
The words were spoken softly from beside her, startling her from her attempts to make it down the icy stairs with her cane. She looked up to see Remus staring at the courtyard with a pensive expression on his face. “I have a scarf,” she pointed out as she tugged on the old Gryffindor scarf that she had had for years. She suddenly felt self-conscious as she glanced at the icy stairs that were proving to be a barrier between her and the snowy paths.
This was the first year that Remus had taught at Hogwarts since her third year as a student. Minerva had tried to hire him since the war was over, but he’d resisted. Hermione hadn’t been very surprised considering he lost Tonks in one of the last battles of the war, and he just needed time to grieve. It took seven years for him to finally accept Minerva’s yearly offer. It had been nice to see him at the staff table before school started, though that feeling had become something different over the last few months.
She was too old to get a crush on a professor, especially when she wasn’t capable of flirting or playing silly games to seduce him. Remus wasn’t a handsome man in a traditional way, but she’d always liked the angles of his face. She had never fancied those who could be described as pretty, though there was that brief lapse with Professor Lockhart but she blamed it on being very young at the time. She liked the character in Remus’ face and found him striking in a way that would just become better with age.
It was foolish to be infatuated with someone who considered her a girl despite the fact that she’d be thirty in a few years. Remus treated her as Harry’s friend, even now, which could be quite frustrating. They had become friends as well as colleagues, however, so she thought that he might eventually realize she was a woman. Of course, she wasn’t likely to act on her desire regardless of how he thought of her so it didn’t really matter.
“Are you back with me now or still lost in thought?”
Hermione shook her head slightly and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I was trying to figure out how to get down the stairs,” she told him. It wasn’t a lie since she had been thinking about that before he joined her, but she didn’t plan to tell him she’d been thinking about him.
Remus smiled slightly as he finally looked at her. His hazel eyes were brighter than usual and the cold seemed to bring out the color in his cheeks, too. “That scarf is threadbare and won’t protect your neck at all,” he pointed out as he reached over to run his fingers over the thin material.
She smiled when she noticed he was wearing the gloves she’d knitted him for Christmas a few years ago. They were some of her best work. She met his gaze and said, “It’ll be fine, Professor. I’ve had this scarf for years.”
“How many times have I told you that it’s Remus, Professor?” he asked as he arched a brow that would have made her feel as if she were back in class if not for the fluttering in her belly that was definitely the reaction of a woman.
“I’m not sure. I’m pants with maths,” she teased. Her smile faded when she felt his fingers brush against her neck.
“You, my dear, are a brat,” he informed her as he stepped closer.
Her mouth was suddenly dry as she looked at him. He was apparently ignoring the thought of personal space, which was very unlike him. His hand traced the line of her throat before he touched her cheek. Her heart was beating so fast that she was surprised he hadn’t heard it, and the flush in her cheeks was no longer caused by the cold. When she licked her lips, he glanced down and looked at her in a very non-platonic and very masculine way.
He blinked and dropped his hand before he took a step back. He ran his fingers through his hair, the sandy brown locks sticking up slightly, and stared at the snow covered courtyard. “I’ll help you down the stairs, Hermione,” he finally offered in a quiet voice.
“You don’t have to,” she told him softly. “I’ll just melt the ice and it will be fine.”
“I know that I don’t have to,” he said as he looked at her, “but I want to.”
“All right,” she relented, suddenly aware of how ungraceful she was and how she must look as she struggled to get down the stairs while holding his arm. Her foot slid and she cringed as her bad leg was pulled forward too quickly.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured as he steadied her and helped her go the rest of the way down.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she gripped her cane and avoided looking at him. “Thank you, Remus. I’ll be okay now. You can go back inside and warm up,” she told him as she tested the snow with her cane.
There were several inches of snowfall from overnight but she thought she could manage. It was still snowing lightly, soft flakes landing on her cheeks and melting when they touched her warm skin. She smiled as she looked at the tranquil scene, knowing that she’d be able to relax once Remus left.
“I planned to take a walk. I’ll walk with you, if you don’t mind?”
What could she say? She didn’t really think she could say, ‘Sorry, but you distract me, and I feel like an idiot hobbling around in the snow and don’t want you to see me like this’. “I don’t mind,” she finally said. She started to walk down the path, struggling to get through the snow. It reminded her all too quickly why she just didn’t leave the castle during the winter months.
“You’re going to catch a cold with your throat uncovered like that,” Remus pointed out.
She was grateful that he hadn’t offered to help her. There was nothing worse than being looked upon as incompetent just because she used a cane most of the time. She could walk without it and usually did in her classroom, but she couldn’t deal with her limp in these conditions since dragging her foot slightly wouldn’t work in snow. She glared at Remus as she stopped walking. “My throat is covered. I’d suggest you worry about yourself, Professor. You’re wearing a pretty thin coat for this weather.”
“My coat is perfectly adequate,” he said dryly, not at all impressed by her glare. “You’re the one I’m worried about. I’ve been around you when you’ve been sick, after all. I know how cranky you can get when you’re forced to stop being active.”
“I don’t get cranky,” she defended even though she knew she was a horrible patient. She almost stuck her tongue out at him but knew that would just reinforce his opinion that she was nothing but a child so she resisted. The tension from the near kiss, as she was pretty sure it had nearly been a kiss, was still present, and she was annoyed at his slight amused smile.
“Perhaps I should step back as I’m sure that statement could warrant a strike of lightning,” Remus decided as he spoke in a laconic voice that tempted her to snog him silly. Of course, just about every tone had given her that temptation over the last few months. “You may be a brilliant and beautiful woman, Hermione, but you’re most decidedly cranky, especially when there’s something you don’t understand or know.”
She started to deny his accusation, bristling because he was probably right, but found herself unable to say anything when she realized he’d just said she was brilliant and beautiful. While she knew he admired her intelligence, it was the latter comment that had her rather stunned. “You must be getting old, Professor. I think you need to get your vision checked,” she muttered as she looked away and started to walk again.
She didn’t make it three steps before she felt his hand on her shoulder. He brushed her hair away from her face and touched her cheek as he stood behind her. “There’s nothing wrong with my eyes, though I am definitely far too old for this.”
“For what?” she asked softly, not daring to look at him for fear she was misreading things. She had never been good at this sort of thing, but found it unbelievable that he could be attracted to her. He’d been involved with Tonks, who was very different from Hermione in a majority of ways. Tonks had been full of life, optimistic, charismatic, and pretty. Hermione was pessimistic, stubborn, dull, and average looking.
“I thought I was just lonely,” Remus murmured. “I mean, I’ve enjoyed your company for years. You’ve always been a friend but I’d never thought of you improperly. Well, maybe a few times after I’d had too much firewhisky but that didn’t happen too often. That’s why it was such a surprise to come here and realize that you were an attractive woman that I wanted to know better.”
“What are you saying, Remus?” She knew she was being impatient, but she didn’t care. She’d never been one for saying a dozen words when two would suffice, unless she was explaining research.
“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “I’m not a young man and there are many reasons why this is a really horrible idea. You’re too young, for one, and we work together, for another. I know you’re attracted to me; I’m just not sure if it’s more than desire, and I’m too old for a ‘just sex’ type of relationship. I’ve resisted for weeks, but I can’t stop wondering what if, which is why I’m now making a fool out of myself.”
“You’re not a fool,” she whispered as she tried to figure out what to do. She smiled slightly. “I’m just shocked at hearing you say so much at one time when you’re not teaching. Did you have to practice stringing so many sentences together at once?”
“You shouldn’t tease your elders,” he grumbled as he stepped closer. She felt his breath on her ear and stared ahead as he sighed. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship, Hermione, but I have to try. Someone I loved a great deal taught me that life’s too short to live in fear. Would you go out with me?”
While she had begun to realize they were talking about the same thing, his words were still a surprise, especially when whispered right against her ear. She tried to take a step forward and turn to face him, needing to look at him, but immediately lost her balance. She was so used to her leg that she often forgot she had problems with it until she was forced into a situation where she seemed to think of little else. Before she could catch herself, she fell backwards into the snow, letting out a soft cry of surprise as she landed.
“That’s not exactly the reaction I was going for,” Remus confided after he took a moment to see that she was okay.
She saw his lips twitch and knew he wanted to smile, which helped make her feel less embarrassed. However, she couldn’t resist grabbing a handful of snow and throwing it at him before she sat up. She was thankful for her heavy coat and warm trousers as she felt the snow around her.
“Let me help,” he offered as he held out his hand.
Instead of telling him she didn’t need help, she took his hand. With a mischievous smile, she pulled and laughed when he lost his balance and fell forward. He landed on top of her, which she realized might not have been the best idea when his body pressed hers into the snow. He pushed himself up so he was resting on his elbows and he looked at her, brushing his fingers along the lines of her face.
“Yes,” she said softly as their gazes met. She ignored the snow that was seeping into her clothes and focused on Remus, letting him know she felt it, too.
He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. It was gentle, at first. Her lips parted beneath his and she reached up to hold his neck as snow fell off her glove. It was different than any kiss she’d had before, not that she had too many to compare it to. He pulled back momentarily to look at her before he groaned and leaned back down. He applied more pressure against her mouth as their first kiss became their second.
His tongue traced her lips before it slipped inside her mouth, curling around her own tongue and stroking it as the kiss deepened. She felt him shift above her before he straddled her leg and pressed close. He rubbed against her as the kisses became less gentle and hungrier, as months, or possibly years, of repressed passion was finally freed. It was more intense than she’d expected, though she’d thought until that moment on the landing that he just thought of her as a friend so she wasn’t prepared for his lust.
It wasn’t long before she felt the stirring of arousal in her belly. She arched up to rub against his leg for much needed friction and gripped his hair as well as she could while wearing gloves. He was aroused, the evidence pressed against her leg as he slowly rolled his hips. She felt him hardening as they kissed, which made her feel feminine and powerful in a way she wasn’t used to.
When he pulled back, she could feel that her lips were swollen and wet. His hair was a mess from where she’d been touching him, and he looked tense in a way that made her realize he was barely keeping control. There was an almost animalistic look to him as he stared down at her, and she shuddered with desire as she realized she liked him looking at her like that.
“Not like this,” he said hoarsely even as he drove his hips forward and rubbed against her leg.
“Why not?” she asked softly, a bit surprised at her boldness. She hooked her good leg around one of his and raised up to rub against his thigh.
“Hermione,” he growled softly before he kissed her again. She felt him unbuttoning her coat and then his hand was on her breast, squeezing it firmly as they moved. He reached beneath her with his other hand to grip her arse and pull her against him.
It was cold and getting to be later but the castle and grounds were still quiet, thankfully. She couldn’t believe they were doing this right there in the snow not far from the place where they both worked. Instead of making her worry, it was rather exciting. She kissed him back, not one to just lie there even if she was rather shy about sex. It was bothersome to have so many clothes in the way and heavy gloves that didn’t let her feel very well, but she didn’t mind so much when he kissed her so thoroughly.
It wasn’t long before she was rocking against his leg more firmly. She felt the tension build and shuddered as it finally snapped. She came with a whimper, holding him as she shook from her orgasm. He licked her throat and nibbled her neck before he stiffened and grunted. She felt him tremble as he came.
“Mine,” he growled softly against her neck before he nuzzled her, continuing to roll his hips until he was spent. He kissed her again, caressing her cheek when he pulled back and just looked at her in a way he never had previously.
“It’s cold,” she said softly. She wasn’t exactly sure what to say after what they’d just done. There wasn’t a book of etiquette on how to behave after rutting in the snow with a man you fancy, after all. Her knickers were wet and sticky, but she couldn’t see if her trousers were, too.
“We should go back,” he told her quietly as he sat up and started to straighten his clothes. There was a wet spot on his trousers, and he gave her a sheepish smile before he charmed it dry. “Maybe a mug of hot cocoa will warm us up.”
“I was thinking of a warm bath,” she admitted as she sat up and pushed her shirt down from where it had ridden up. A quick drying charm took care of her trousers before she buttoned her coat and shivered.
“I didn’t intend for this---“ He started to say before he shook his head. “I won’t apologize because I’m not sorry about what we shared. I hadn’t planned it and I hope I wasn’t too rough, but you looked so…I couldn’t resist.”
“I’m not sorry either,” she told him sincerely. “I’ve wanted you for awhile and I’m not going to apologize for taking advantage of you.”
“You didn’t take advantage,” he said with a slight smile.
“Of course I did,” she said primly even as she returned his shy smile. “I lured you into the snow and then pulled you down just so I could take advantage. I’m very sneaky, you know?”
“Are you?” he asked in a low drawl that made her tummy flutter. “I guess I’ll have to remember that. Fortunately, I won’t complain any time you’d like to lure me into such a situation again. Perhaps I’ll even think up a few schemes of my own.”
“Good. Schemes can be very enjoyable,” she declared before she leaned forward and kissed him gently. “Can you help me stand up?”
“Of course,” he murmured before he kissed her again. He stood up and helped her to her feet before he picked up her cane and handed it to her. “I’d offer to carry you back inside, but I know you’re far too stubborn to allow that. Besides, a nice walk back will give me an opportunity to plot how I might get myself invited to share that warm bath.”
“You know, it might be more successful if you didn’t tell me you were plotting,” she mused as she took his offered hand and smiled.
“I’m very good at washing hair,” he said modestly as they slowly made their back down the path to the castle.
“I can wash my own hair,” she reminded him as any awkwardness she’d felt faded at seeing him being so surprisingly playful. She liked it, especially when he gave her that look as if she was his and he had no intention of letting her go.
“Logic can be very annoying sometimes,” he muttered before he smiled. “I can wash all those hard to reach places.”
“There’s a charm for that,” she said, laughing at his sulky expression.
“Well, I’m out of suggestions then.”
“Perhaps you should keep thinking,” she suggested. She wasn’t sure she was ready for anything else yet. It had happened pretty quickly, moving from unrequited lust to grinding in the snow, and she was also hesitant about him seeing the scars on her leg that the mediwitches hadn’t been able to heal.
He stopped them and faced her, studying her face a moment before he smiled gently. “Perhaps I’ll stop being an impatient dirty old man and wait until the day when you invite me yourself,” he said softly. “For now, we can go out to dinner in Hogsmeade, maybe, and take things one day at a time.”
Hermione leaned up to kiss him softly before she murmured, “That sounds like a perfect plan.”
The End