A/N: What's that? A timely update? What? I know it's shocking. It's also sexy. Oh yeah.

No copyright infringement intended, etc. etc. etc.

The difficulty Hermione had in explaining why exactly she was leaving Grimuald place to Ron and Harry had to do at least partially with the fact that she didn't know why herself. Yes, she was a muggle-born and yes, she did know Professor Lupin (better, probably, than most of his students) but that hardly seemed to justify completely relocating.

"It has to be safer here," Ron said to Harry as they discussed her departure for nearly the 100th time since they'd heard the news.

"I know," Harry responded. "Even if Dumbledore's worried for the rest of us it's not like one of Greyback's cronies would be able to get in anyway."

"Exactly!" Came Ron's reply. "With the all the spells surrounding the house…" But Hermione had stopped listening. She'd long since removed herself from these discussions. After all, she had no answers either and her attempts to get them from anyone else had failed miserably. Mrs. Weasly and Mad-eye had both told her to listen to Dumbledore and stop asking questions. Mr. Weasly had no answers at all and the other order members seemed to be decidedly ignoring Hermione.

"We heard Mad-eye telling them to steer clear," Fred had told her the afternoon after she'd heard the news. "That you were asking all kinds of questions."

"We could ask for you," George offered. "Of course you'd really have to let us get you, especially since you're leaving…"

Obviously Hermione was not going to get answers.

She wondered if Lupin was as much in the dark as she was, but she'd hardly had the chance to ask. Since their move had been announced Hermione had hardly seen him at all. Even his room was silent in the days approaching their journey.

"He must know something," she thought, pushing her chair away from the kitchen table she, Harry, and Ron were sitting at, interrupting their discussion on the security benefits of Mrs. Black's screaming portrait.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked.

"To my room. I have some packing I still need to do," she lied. "I'll see you at dinner."

The boys watched as she exited the kitchen but quickly resumed their conversation. She could hear them weighing the pros and cons of Mrs. Black's blood-curdling scream as she took the stairs two at a time towards her bedroom. Before opening her door she put her ear to Remus': his room was silent. "Where could he be?" She wondered as she walked through her own door. Her room was almost entirely empty with her books, clothes, and school supplies all organized neatly in her trunk. In fact, it reminded her incredibly of what Remus' room had looked like when she'd last been there. Remembering that had her remembering the other things that had happened the last time she'd been to Remus' room and she was so involved in those thoughts that she almost missed the noise coming from the bathroom.

Hermione hadn't even noticed the sound of running water coming from the bathroom next door, and it wasn't until it had been shut off that Hermione realized she was not alone. Without thinking, she barged into the bathroom she and Lupin shared. "Professor," she started before even completely opening the door. "You have to talk to me at some point. Really it's just-" but Hermione didn't finish. Standing in front of her was a very wet and partially nude Remus Lupin.

A set of three pink scars ran from his left shoulder to below the towel that covered his waste. They were the most noticeable, seeming almost new, but hardly the only wounds there. Remus' chest was completely covered in scars: some were pink and fresh-looking and others were so light you'd have to bend close to him to even notice them. Hermione found herself wanting to do just that, though it was hardly because of Remus' extensive battle-wounds. In fact, Hemrione found those incredibly easy to look past as water glinted off Remus' abdomen. His abs flexed momentarily as Hermione took him by surprise and the sight of his tight, wet stomach nearly made her swoon. She could see where muscle roped around his broad shoulders and looped down his arms. She inhaled quickly. Remus Lupin was the most beautiful thing Hermione had ever seen.

Neither of them moved. Hermione stood at her bathroom door, bracing herself on its handle as she struggled to pull her eyes away from her professor's chest. Remus found himself in a similar state of shock, frozen in the middle of the bathroom with only a small, white towel covering him. "I was just," Hermione started and Remus couldn't help but notice her eyes scanning his body. "I just, um, I needed to, uh. Well, I mean, that," and Hermione swallowed deeply. "You're very pretty, professor," she said finally, looking into his eyes for the first time since she'd entered the bathroom. "Beautiful really."

Remus was so taken aback by what she'd said that instead of leaving the bathroom (as he knew he should) he matched Hermione's gaze. "Beautiful?" He asked, breathily.

"Yes," she responded, taking a step toward him. "In a purely academic sort of way, of course."

He smiled at her and said, "of course," but he couldn't help but notice the space between them closing rapidly. Hermione's faced was flushed (whether from embarrassment or the steam still hanging in the air after Remus' shower, he didn't know) and she had a familiar look in her eye. Remus laughed suddenly; it was curiosity.

"What?" Hermione asked, suddenly becoming self-conscious. She was abruptly aware of where she was, who she was with, and what she wanted, very badly, to do.

"It's nothing," Remus said tenderly as he cupped the side of her face. "Nothing at all." He was leaning towards her, enchanted by a new look in Hermione's eye.

Hermione's heart was fluttering wildly and as Remus moved closer and closer to her she could hardly breathe. "Please, don't let this be like the last time," was the last thing she thought before Remus' mouth covered hers.