Chapter 33

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Guilt and shame gnawed at Remus during class with the seventh year Gryffindors. Hermione wouldn't look at him. Every time his gaze landed on her as he lectured, hers was downcast, intent on the notes she was silently taking. Never once did she raise her hand or answer a question. Never once did her eyes meet his.

He knew she was angry with him. He knew she must be appalled and disgusted by the way he'd behaved that night in his living quarters, and he couldn't blame her for it. He felt the same way. He'd crossed a line and had been too ashamed and cowardly to speak to her since she'd returned to Hogwarts after Harry recovered.

He stayed away from her now as well as she and her classmates practiced in pairs during the practical part of the lesson. He realized, though, he probably should have talked things out with her before they'd had to face each other in class today, to try to make things less awkward between them, because her classmates couldn't have failed to notice her pronounced silence and the way she and her professor were avoiding each other.

But Remus knew he and Hermione couldn't avoid each other forever. They had yet to get together this week to discuss their plans for Defense Club on Friday, and as the class period was coming to a close, Remus decided this was as good a time as any to do that. Although they normally met in his office and spent the better part of the evening together planning these practice sessions and just talking, he feared after what had happened between them they might never do that again. He was devastated at the thought. Those hours he spent with her were the best part of his week.

"Hermione," he said at the end of the lesson, "could you stay a moment, please? I'd like to have a word with you about Defense Club."

As he'd feared — because the last thing he wanted was for there to be any talk about him and Hermione — some of his students glanced curiously between him and the Head Girl on their way out of the classroom.

Remus nervously watched Hermione join him by his desk, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She clearly didn't want to be anywhere near him, so he quickly informed her what they'd be doing at the next meeting, keeping this conversation as brief as possible. She nodded along curtly as he talked but still wouldn't look at him directly.

"So is that all then?" she asked brusquely when he finished speaking. "Can I go now?"

"Yes, that's all."

She'd already begun to stride away from him when Remus changed his mind.

"No, wait, Hermione. There is another matter we need to discuss."

She stopped and turned her head slightly so that he had a glimpse of her profile. "And what matter is that?"

"The reason why you're angry with me," he said tentatively. "We need to talk about — about what happened last week, that night..."

"I'd rather we didn't."

"Hermione, please, let me explain—"

"Explain what exactly?" she said, whipping around like a sudden shift in a furious wind. "What could you possibly have to say to me about that?"

Her eyes had met his at last and now he wished they hadn't. Hurt fueled her glare more than anything else.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. You have every right to be upset—"

"Of course I'm upset! I didn't think you were — And I can't believe you — you — you and her!"

His contrition turned to confusion. "Her?"

"Yes, her!"

Remus stared at her uncomprehendingly. "Who? What are you—?"

"No one. Nothing. It doesn't matter anymore," she snapped, a bitter edge to her voice, and she turned away from him.

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