Hermione smiled so much that evening that Ron actually asked her what she'd been smoking. She just couldn't seem to stop gazing dreamily into space, recounting every detail of the day's events. She wished she could go and visit Remus, but knew she had to play it cool. To him, this was just sex, and while she was happy for what she could get, she found it hard holding herself back from declaring her feelings for him. She'd left quickly after their climax to stop herself blurting out something she wouldn't be able to take back.

It was one thing to let a teacher know you fancied him, quite another that you felt you would die if you couldn't see him every day. She knew how it must look, how she herself would react if the situations were reversed; it was just a crush. But that made no difference to the way she felt around him, like she could trust him with her life, that every second she spent listening to his voice made her more obsessed with him.

And now she'd seduced him, her sexy, dishevelled teacher, and what was she to do? Presumably he was after whatever orgasms he could get (he couldn't possibly fancy her, Ron hadn't even looked her way and Remus was so much more mature than him...) and a naive student was the best way to get that at Hogwarts. What with the whole Tonks situation (from what Hermione could gather, she wasn't planning to move back to England any time soon, after he'd rejected her advances so publicly), he seemed a bit low on the ground, romance wise.

That was another reason she'd done it, she told herself, it wasn't purely selfish. He'd been so...depressed, since Tonks had left, moping around the school (he'd reapplied weeks term started, when he'd found himself drifting around an empty house, presumably for the human contact as well as income) and barely registering the presence of anyone, even his honorary-godson. Remus had tentatively offered himself for the job when Harry found himself alone after the war, and over the summer before their Eight Year, he'd lived with Remus. Visiting him had been when the first glimmer of Hermione's crush on Remus appeared.

Hermione had wanted to bring some sense of belonging into his life; fill the void that it had become, even in the form of the school slut (she cringed at the thought, but she couldn't deny that it was how he must be thinking of her). What was she to say to him, tomorrow morning in class? Would he ignore what had happened between them, blame it on a spur of the moment, lack of control, hormones? Or would he want to continue their...relationship? A tingle ran down her spine at the thought , and she crossed her legs together under the table, scenarios running through her head. Remus pushing her against a dark corridor wall, kneeling down and lifting up her skirt; Hermione visiting his rooms and licking his entire body, pressing light kisses onto every scar before riding him hard and fast... Shaking her head, and damning her hormones, she said goodnight to her fellow classmates, and headed for bed. It seemed even once she'd got him, her lust for him wasn't sated.