Authors Note: Entry for the Twin Exchange August Challenge.

Pairing – Remus Lupin & Hermione Granger

Prompt – Diagon Alley & the Quidditch World Cup

Quote – "What is that smell?" & "I think it's broken"

Theme – Ginny Weasley, born August 11 1981

Flourish and Blot

Hermione picked up the heavy text book, looked inside the cauldron and then read the book again.

Something wasn't right.

With a heavy sigh, she dropped Cooking Catherine's Cauldron Creations back on her desk and took to prodding the lone strawberry cupcake with her wand in the hopes that it would magic itself into looking like the picture. All she managed to do, however, was turn it green, making it thoroughly unappetizing as it sat by itself on the bottom of the cauldron.

Pursing her lips, she sat down sulkily behind her desk, the same desk that had the tiny bronze plate stating 'manager', and fought back the irrational tears that always seemed to spring up when she failed at something. In this case, cooking. She had been looking forward to surprising Ginny that evening with some homemade cupcakes for her birthday, especially since Mrs Weasley was in Romania visiting with Charlie and wasn't there to make them.

A thump from outside the open door brought her head up, her attention going immediately to the only other person in Flourish and Blotts, Remus Lupin. She watched as her ex-professor – now esteemed colleague – drop another heavy box before a set of shelves before standing up to brush his sandy-brown hair from his glistening forehead.

Her breath caught as his lithe musculature strained beneath his plain white shirt and she forced herself to look back down at her book. She told herself time and time again that he was off-limits, but would her body listen?

No.

She heard him walk off in the direction of the storeroom again, presumably for another box of delicate books that the publishers insisted be manually handled. She secretly admitted that seeing Remus strain and carry the heavy boxes was the favourite part of her week - that, and the tub of chocolate and peanut butter ice-cream she treated herself to every Friday night.

She stared off into space as thoughts of running swirls of the sugary confection down Remus's chest and stomach before licking it off ran rampant. The dull thud of cardboard hitting carpet snapped her out of the sinful images and she realized she had been staring directly at the man in question, and he was staring back.

"Nearly finished?" she asked, hoping she could pass off her flushed cheeks as heat from the cauldron in front of her. Her voice came out breathy and uncertain.

"A few more boxes," Remus said, indicating to the half-dozen already at his feet. "The cupcakes?" he asked.

"Green," she said, screwing up her face.

Remus laughed and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, showing off ridiculously-toned forearms, a few silvery scars visible under the light smattering of hair. He turned to walk back to the store room and Hermione decided to forego her baking endeavour in favour of helping in the store.

The shelves stood silent as she walked toward the rustling and shuffling of the backroom. She almost liked it like this, silent and still, instead of its usual bustle of either dim-witted or irritable customers. Of course, it wasn't always so busy, or so dead - but today was an exception. The Quidditch World Cup was on and every man, their owl and possibly the corpse of their long forgotten Grandmother had gone to watch England play against Australia.

She and Remus had drawn the short straw – not that she minded at all, having no interest in the private box and added attention of being one of Harry's entourage. She had been planning on staying at home with a nice book for the day when Mr. Flourish had owled her, but being here with Remus was far better. Not even in the midst of war had she seen Diagon Alley so empty.

She wondered why Remus had agreed to work instead of going to the match, but hadn't asked. He emerged once again from the back room, another box held comfortably in his bulging arms. She sidestepped him before he ran in to her, and peeked into the store room, finding only one small box left behind. Reading the label before she drew her wand, she saw it was the latest LoveSpell novels. LoveSpell were the Wizarding Worlds equivalent to Harlequin Romances, and had no significance academics wise, but she still enjoyed reading them.

Levitating the box, she pushed out of the enlarged storage room, letting it morph back into the broom cupboard it really was, and set about with a new task in mind, hoping to forget about the disaster that was her cooking experiment in her office.

"I'll just be upstairs," she called to Remus, who was presently unpacking the new books and shelving them in the Dark Arts section.

"Just call if you need me," he returned, his attention on the cover of a book the size of a matchbox. He flicked his wand absently at the Wizarding Wireless and the echoing voices of the pre-match Quidditch commentators filled the room.

Hermione felt her heart flutter, trying not to read too much into his words. It was almost tempting to call him up anyway, but she had never been so bold in her life, and she wasn't about to start. Her thoughts were no better than some of the women who read the LoveSpell novels.

Walking up the spiralling staircase, she dropped the box neatly on one of the many plush chairs and moved to straighten the shelves, making sure the models on the covers of some of the raunchier publications were behaving themselves in case a customer did happen to wander in, as unlikely as that was.

She gave one blonde a pointed look when she straightened the best-seller Charming Prince Charming, and the heroine promptly straightened the bodice of her turquoise gown, tucking her ample bosom back into its folds with an irritated huff. The buff hero gave Hermione a lecherous wink and smirked at her when she noticed the bulge in his tights.

Tucking the offending book between a copy of Sleeps with Werewolves and To Tame a Banshee, she moved back to the box to unload the latest shipment. Hermione stacked the books in her arms and moved to the shelves, sorting them by genre and then author, glaring disapprovingly at the randy models that seemed to forget they had an audience. It took her a dozen trips back and forth, moving from the lowest shelf to the highest, and the sound of Remus's soft voice floating up to her as he sang along softly to a jingle for wart concealing potion.

She smiled and listened to the cheery lyrics, his deep voice adding a quality to the music that made her shiver. She continued to strain her ears until the last of the advertisement finished and the pre-match commentary started again, the voices melding and droning together until all she could make out was unintelligible mess.

Pulling the ladder over to the last shelf, she turned her attention back to the books in her arms. Playing the Players was placed in the comedy section, under the letter M, the handsome man with black hair winked at her, his hands in his pockets as he slouched casually against a brick wall. Another comedy, featuring a brunette and a man with red hair soon followed.

She climbed the last rung, looking down at the last book - a paranormal romance with fancy gold lettering pronouncing its title. But it wasn't the name that had caught her attention, but the shirtless man beneath it. He was beautiful, spread out on gold sheets, his skin glowing in the firelight, the light smattering of sandy brown hair on his muscular arms and chest taking on a golden hue. Her breath caught when he turned his head and she saw a thin silvery scar running down his face to his chest.

The resemblance to the man downstairs was uncanny, and as she stared down at him with a mixture of fascination and lust, her foot missed the last rung. With a surprised scream she felt her body and the ladder fall backward, until she found herself sprawled on the floor in a mess tangled limbs, books and the now-ruined ladder.

The thumping of feet on the ancient carpeted staircase meant that Remus had heard her. He burst in to the romance section, panting slightly as his eyes scanned around until he found her on the floor.

"Are you okay?" he asked, rushing forward to pull the empty boxes and ladder off of her.

"I think it's broken," she said, indicating the cracked rung on the ladder. Remus misinterpreted her hand gesture to mean her ankle and his hands were immediately on her leg, his long fingers curling around her naked calf intimately. She tried to discretely smooth down the pleated skirt she had chosen to wear that day.

"Does anything else hurt? Did you hit your head?" he asked in a low voice, his fingers gently prodding and poking, pulling back when she hissed. He had pressed on what promised to be a large and painful bruise.

"No, just bruised I think. I'm fine Remus, really," she said gently, not wanting to admit just how disappointed she was when his fingers finally left her leg.

"I think you should see a healer anyway, just in case," he said, turning his amber gaze from her leg to look at her, resolution making his eyes a little hard.

"It's nothing a little potion won't fix," she sighed, struggling from her elbows to her hands, tucking her legs under her.

"Here, let me," he said, coming around behind her to practically lift her from the floor. She let out a surprised squeal when he hooked his arm under her knees and cradled her to his chest before gently depositing her on a nearby couch.

"Stop fussing," she scolded lightly, shuffling to the side to let him sit by her hip. The feeling of him pressed against her was doing funny things to her already frazzled nerves.

"Why didn't you just charm the books into the shelves?" he asked, looking down at the remains of a ladder that was probably centuries old.

"I was just trying to draw it out a little, doing things the muggle way takes time," she replied smartly, wanting to reach out and brush a strand of hair from his flushed forehead. She couldn't imagine what the scream and crashing had sounded like from downstairs - he probably thought she had killed herself.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, giving in to his own temptations and brushing her fringe from her eyes. It was an unconscious move, one he didn't even realize he had been doing until he was already doing it. He pulled back from her quickly and looked away.

"I'm fine. Thank you," she said softly, a blush turning her cheeks a rosy pink.

"What are you thanking me for? I didn't do anything," he replied, running a hand through his hair but still not looking at her.

"For making sure I was okay. It's very sweet of you," she smiled and gave in to the impulse to kissing his cheek.

Remus turned to look at her startled, his face only inches from hers. Hermione bit her lip, thought about pulling back before changing her mind. This was her now or never; if he rejected her then she would get on with her life and find some other poor sod to obsess over. There was never anything as unhealthy as unrequited love - she had seen what it had done to Romilda Vane after the war and it had not been pretty.

Leaning in that final distance, she let her lips touch his briefly before pulling away and opening her eyes. She found him staring back at her with a mixture of amazement and something else.

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered, reading it as rejection, "Forget that ever happened," she said hastily, pulling her legs out from behind him, preparing to hole herself up in her office until he left.

Remus's big hand on her thigh stopped her squirming, his eyes still boring in to her.

"I'm not," he said quietly, "Will you do it again?"

Hermione went absolutely still, blinking up at him through her tangle of curls and wondering if she really had hit her head during the fall. Hermione moved in again, this time bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders. The kiss was much deeper, a soft sigh escaping her when he parted her lips to trace her mouth with his tongue. His large hands splayed at her waist as he pulled her closer to him, pressing their chests together.

She moaned when he took over the kiss, his lips pressing against hers hard as his tongue did fabulous things in her mouth. Her fingers flexed in his hair as she held his head to hers, leaving no room for escape, not that he was trying. Remus seemed to take this as all the encouragement he needed as he followed her down to the soft cushions on the couch.

They forgot about the fact they were in a very public place, not to mention they could both loose their jobs if they were to be caught unawares. All they seemed to care about was getting more of each other. Remus's body made a long line against hers, pressing every hard muscle in to her soft curves as they lost themselves to the sensations.

Hermione was panting by the time she pulled away, tilting her head back as he planted hot, open mouthed kisses against the smooth column of her exposed throat. He suckled on the throbbing pulse point, making her mewl in satisfaction, before moving down to the first button of her rather conservative white shirt.

He paused as he fingered the button, looking up at her. She raised her head and smiled shyly down at him and he needed no further signal. He kissed a hot path with each new patch of skin revealed and she moaned and writhed beneath him with satisfaction. Her uninhibited responses spurred him on until her shirt lay discarded on the floor beside them and she stared up at him with only a bra and prim skirt on.

"You're so beautiful," he sighed, pulling back to tug his own shirt over his head, letting it join hers on the floor.

She smiled and opened her arms, pulling him back to her.

"I could say the same thing for you," she purred before her lips captured his again and she showed him just how appreciative she was of his physique.

Remus braced himself on one elbow, his hand skimming up her waist, marvelling at the softness of her skin before cupping one lace covered breast. Hermione gasped and arched into him, her legs shifting restlessly as he brought one nipple to peak with his thumb and forefinger.

"So responsive," he murmured against her mouth when she moaned.

Hermione was in a haze of bliss, her eyes closed shut, hoping this dream never ended. She forgot all about her sore ankle and even the ache that has slowly been blooming in her right shoulder. All she could focus on was the man currently worshiping her neck, slowly making his way down to her breasts.

She cried his name out - the sound echoing against the shelved walls - when his fingers pulled one cup to the side, his mouth tugging gently on one taut and straining nipple. He took the opportunity of her arched back to slip his hands beneath her to unclasp her bra, pulling it away from her when he moved to the neglected breast.

"Oh God," she sighed, never having felt anything so amazing in her life. Either she had been doing something wrong, or there was something very special about Remus Lupin.

Remus twined his fingers with her right hand, drawing them between there bodies until they reached the zipper of her skirt. She could feel his impressive bulge, straining beneath the course denim of his casual jeans. She unfurled her hand from his, bringing her left one down to shakily undo the top button and fly.

He pulled away from her chest when her small hand pulled him from the confines of his pants. He rested his cheek against hers; panting heavily for a moment, before initiating another soul-searing kiss. Hermione felt his impressive length, hard beneath her palm, the tip weeping slightly. His hips bucked against her and she took the signal to move, feeling herself grow more aroused by the second.

Remus's hand moved to the zipper in her skirt once more, fumbling awkwardly until he had it undone, his hand searching beneath the elastic waistband of her underwear, finding her hot and wet. They groaned in unison, moving restlessly against each other, seeking greater contact.

Hermione wasn't sure how much more torture she could take when he finally removed his hand, his palms cupping her back as he lifted her into a sitting position once again.

"Stand up," he commanded, his voice gravelly, his movements quick and efficient as he removed his jeans.

Hermione obeyed, standing in front of him, letting her skirt drop to the floor, pulling her knickers off when she stepped out of the mess of clothes. Remus's eyes drank her in, from her trim waist, to rounded hips and equally generous breasts.

He reached out to pull her to him, and needed no further encouragement, straddling his waist so that his length rested against her belly. She leant in once more to kiss him, rising up high on her knees, guiding his cock between them until it slid between her folds.

She felt herself shaking as she lowered herself down slowly, feeling his fingers grip her waist painfully to restrain himself from surging up and impaling her. When they met at the hips she stopped and kissed him heatedly, waiting for her body to adjust to his size.

Remus felt her inner muscles pulse around him, his hands running up and down her back as their lips clashed passionately. He had never felt anyone who fit him so well, her small body seemed to be made for his and the thought had him twitching inside of her.

Hermione seemed to sense the same thing, and slowly lifted herself off of him, only to plunge back down seconds later. His hands guided her over his length repeatedly, their bodies becoming slick with sweat as they found pleasure with one another.

Remus shifted one hand around her hip, tracing the delicate bone until his fingers met the thatch of curls at the apex of her thighs. She cried out when he circled her sensitive nub, her muscles clenching around him as she increased the pace desperately.

She tugged on his lower lip with her teeth, drawing him forward into her kiss again, rocking her hips hard against his as his hand and cock worked magic between her legs. She shuddered and moaned, her grip in his hair becoming painful as she clamped down on his length, her body finding completion under his touch.

Remus cried out and buried his head in her curls, her milking clasps drawing out his own climax. The sensations were sweet and never ending as they rocked and pulsed against one another in a dance of unrequited passion and feelings.

Gasping, she finally collapsed in to his arms; her body limp and utterly satisfied. Remus was kissing every patch of available skin he could reach, inhaling her scent deeply, enjoying what he had wanted for so long but never thought he could have.

"Remus, I-" Hermione started softly, raising her head to look down at him with a small smile, but stopped when she saw a frown on her face. "What?" she asked warily.

Remus, who had been happily sniffing the subtle jasmine scent of her curls had picked up on something rather unpleasant coming from downstairs.

"What is that smell?" he asked.

Hermione raised her head and sniffed the air, finding it slightly hazy with smoke, and the unpleasant smell of burnt cooking permeating the massive bookstore. It confused her for a moment before comprehension dawned.

"Oh no!" she cried, prying herself from Remus's arms, throwing his shirt over her naked body, grabbing her wand, and running down the stairs three at a time.

She could hear Remus's thumping feet coming close behind her, hoping he had remembered to put some pants on in case anyone walked past the window at the wrong time. She skidded in to her office, and sure enough, her portable cauldron sat smouldering on her desk, black smoke billowing from its opening, making her eyes sting.

"Aguamenti!" she cried, shooting a stream of water from her wand at the burning strawberry cupcake. With another wave she dispersed the smoke and went to inspect her failed potions experiment.

"Is it safe to come in?" Remus asked with amusement, leaning against the door frame in nothing but his jeans.

"I think I killed it," she said as he walked to her side, looking down at the chargrilled cupcake.

"Maybe it committed suicide," he joked, wrapping his arm consolingly around her waist.

Hermione nodded sadly in agreement.

"I don't blame it. I just hope the next one doesn't try the same thing."

"You can try again later," he whispered in her ear, causing her to shiver and press against his side.

"You have something better in mind than making cupcakes?" she asked, surprised at the huskiness of her voice.

Remus turned her to him, trailing his hand down her arm to grip her wand, flicking it to banish everything – including the ruined cauldron – before turning back to look at her with raised eyebrows.

"I could think of one or two things," he grinned.

"So can I," she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, making him laugh.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours?" he asked, leaning in to kiss her again.

"I can hardly wait," she replied, kissing him back.

Thanks for Reading!