Just For Tonight

~@~ Hello everyone! I know, been awhile since I played with Remus. This little oneshot is a bit angsty, but I felt compelled to write it. I hope you will enjoy it. As is typical of me this story is very clearly AU/AR so read at your own risk.





Just For Tonight


It was raining. Not just the annoying drizzle one might expect, but fat, heavy droplets that beat against the multicolored panes of the stained glass windows. Inside a small chapel located in the middle of the cemetery at Godric’s Hollow, witches and wizards gathered together to say farewell to one of their own. At the front of the chapel atop a stone altar sat a simple black lacquer box with a name and dates engraved into the side.


Sirius Black
1959-1996
Beloved Godfather and friend

There was no need for a casket as no body had been recovered upon his death; he had simply fallen through the veil after Bellatrix’s spell struck him. They had not been able to give him a proper memorial at the time nor had they been able to mourn him as they needed to, not until the war was over. As soon as things began to settle following the war, Harry had arranged for a memorial service to honor his godfather and lay him to rest as best he could.

During the service the black box was placed on the altar and one by one friends and loved ones came forward and placed something inside in honor of Sirius. Locked inside was his leather jacket, a small motorbike statue, photographs, the school banner, a Gryffindor neck tie, a bottle of his favorite whiskey and a few vinyl albums of his favorite bands along with a few other odds and ends. Harry made the decision to keep his wand.

In the front of the chapel Harry stood with his head bowed, his arm around Ginny’s shoulders as the minister read the eulogy. Ron fidgeted slightly, funerals made him uncomfortable. Beyond them, at the very end of the row, stood Remus leaning against the wall, his face turned into his shoulder away from the others.

Hermione could see his shoulders trembling and knew that he was finally grieving for his friend. She stepped forward from her place beside Harry and crossed the front of the chapel to stand beside the bereaved werewolf. He didn’t even look up, though she knew very well that he was aware of her. She understood his grief. It ran so much deeper than anyone else’s because they had been friends since childhood, companions who loved each other as brothers. He didn’t flinch when she slid her hand in his; he only wrapped his long slender fingers around hers and held on tightly as the service wrapped up.

One by one everyone filed out of the chapel, Remus and Hermione left standing beside the box, hands still clasped though neither realized it.

“You would think that after three years it wouldn’t hurt.” He said hoarsely.

“Perhaps under normal circumstances.” She said softly. “I think it will always hurt, Remus, but in time it will lessen now that the grieving has begun.”

“I just wish we could lay him to rest.” He ran his hand over the top of the black box as a tear slipped from the corner of his eye.

“Sirius is no doubt causing trouble wherever he is, Remus. You know he wouldn’t want a bunch of people standing over him looking at him. Besides, knowing him he would probably have it stipulated that his body be posed naked on a bear skin rug.” She gave his hand a little squeeze when he chuckled. “Come on, Remus; let’s go back to the Weasley’s house.”

With one last brush of his fingers over the carved letters Remus allowed himself to be pulled from the chapel. From the steps they apparated to the Weasley’s house where people socialized, ate and drank into the early evening. When the last of the guests had said goodbye, Hermione helped Molly with the clean up. She watched with a heavy heart as Harry was led upstairs by Ginny.

“It amazes me that it has been three years yet it still feels so fresh.” Hermione said softly.


“It was a wound that was never really tended to in the first place.” Molly said. “It just festered but now the healing will begin and all will be well, you’ll see.” She patted Hermione’s cheek and gave her a reassuring smile.

“I suppose Harry will be staying here.” Hermione wiped her hands on a towel then tossed it into the basket by the stairs.

“Well they are engaged to be married and given the circumstances I figure I can bend the rules a little.” Molly said, though it was clear from her expression that she was trying to convince herself.

“I wouldn’t worry so much. Harry would never hurt her.” Hermione said, laying her hand on the older woman’s shoulder. Molly reached up and laid her hand over Hermione’s and sighed.

“It’s good to have this done, for Harry, for everyone. It was too long coming.” She said.

“Yes, it was.” Hermione looked into the parlor and saw Remus standing near the window. He had said very little the entire day, spending his time among so many people yet all alone.

“Will you be sleeping over too?”

“No, Mrs. Weasley, I think I will just go on home.” Hermione said.


“I hate the thought of you all alone in that dreary old house.” Molly fussed.


“I won’t be alone, Remus lives there too.” Hermione had yet to restore her parent’s memories and she debated on whether or not she would. She loved them, but they had never been close and their knowledge of the magical world put them at great risk. She knew she would have to decide sooner rather than later but she just couldn’t think about it right then.


“That’s right; the man is so quiet that I sometimes forget he’s there.” Molly said with a shake of her head.

“I think he likes it that way, he doesn’t like to have attention focused on him, it makes him uncomfortable.” She said. “Thank you for everything, I’ll just get Remus and head home.”

“Goodnight, Dear.” With a quick, tight hug Molly ascended the stairs and headed to bed.

Hermione walked across the room and laid her hand on Remus’s arm lightly. He looked up, a sad little half smile on his face.

“Time to go home, Remus.” She said.

“Harry ready?” He asked.

“Harry is sleeping over with Ginny tonight; it will just be you and I going back to the house.” She said, removing her hand and stepping into the fireplace. She waited for him to join her before tossing a handful of powder to the grate and calling out for Number 12 Grimmuald Place.

“You didn’t eat anything earlier, go sit down while I make you something.” Hermione said as she crossed the room and disappeared into the hall. Remus wasn’t hungry, but he knew better than to argue with her. She was a natural born nurturer and she fussed over those she cared about. He was grateful to have her, to be on the receiving end of her care.

He walked around the small sitting room and stared at the portraits on the wall. Some blinked back at him curiously while others were still. Part of him wished that there was a portrait of Sirius for him to talk to, but another part said that it would hurt far too much.

He removed his jacket and tie, throwing them into an old battered chair on his way to the couch. He unbuttoned the top few buttons on his faded grey shirt and rolled up the sleeves as he slumped into the well worn cushions and closed his eyes. He couldn’t help but think that it should have been him. Guilt rode him hard, guilt over the freedom he had enjoyed while Sirius had been locked away in Azkaban, guilt for believing for even a moment that he could have betrayed Lily and James. He was a poor excuse for a friend.

“Here, have some hot chocolate.” He jumped at the sound of her voice, his eyes opening to stare up at her.

“You snuck up on me.” He said, taking a mug and a plate with a ham sandwich from her.

“That’s a first; you always seem to know when I’m near.” She smiled and walked over to the window to stare out onto the rain slicked streets.

“I was distracted, lost in my memories.” He said, biting into the sandwich but not tasting it.

“Easy to do on a day like today. Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.


“I’m not certain that there is anything to talk about, Hermione. I could have been…should have been a better friend.” He said between bites. “I wasted years of freedom wandering around feeling sorry for myself while he languished in prison. I believed them when they said he had been the one to betray James and Lily when I should have known better. I should have stopped him that night. Snape was right when he called him a hotheaded fool, I should have known he would be itching for a fight as soon as Severus told us what Harry said in Umbridge’s office. But I didn’t, I let him go and he died.”

“Remus, surely you don’t think that it was your fault?” Hermione turned from the window to see him lay his head back, his eyes squeezed shut as though trying to block out images only he could see.

“If I could change it, I would be stronger.” He said as pictures of the past flickered in his mind. “I would have more faith in my friend, more control over my own emotions.”

“The past is just that, Remus; you can’t live your whole life wondering what could have been.” She said, coming to stand behind him. She laid her hand on top of his head tentatively, her fingers combing lightly through his tawny/gray hair. “You were his best friend; he knew how much you cared for him.”

Remus relaxed beneath her touch, soaking up the comfort she offered like a sponge. He was a man who shied away from personal contact, his close relationships were kept to a minimum and he remained completely free of romantic entanglements, opting to tend to his physical needs himself. But tonight, he seemed to crave the small touches, the warmth of her nearness, and the scent of her. Just for tonight he would bask in the warmth of someone else’s care.

“I hope you are right, that things will get easier now that we have formally acknowledged his passing.” Remus said, pressing his head into her touch. She put her arms around his shoulders from behind and hugged him.


“I know I am, but until it does you can lean on me.” She said. “We are all here for you, Remus.”

He closed his eyes and fought the tears that threatened to fall. He didn’t want to cry like a child in front of her but his emotions seemed to be so near to the surface that they were easily triggered, especially by her.

“It’s all right; I would never judge you for your tears.” She whispered. He turned slightly so that he could bury his face in her shoulder. She held him in that awkward position, leaning over the back of the sofa as he cried. No sound between them, just the light trembling of his shoulders as he let years of pent up emotion free.

It seemed an eternity that she held him, her fingers brushing over the tender skin of his nape as she rocked slightly side to side as though rocking a child. He couldn’t bear to pull away, afraid that if he did he would fall apart. She jumped when thunder cracked outside shaking the house. His hands came up to grasp her arms to comfort and steady her. She hated storms and he knew that.

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and her scent suddenly hit him. Soft, warm and all woman. He could hear the soft whoosh of her pulse and he shifted his nose just an inch closer to her throat. His lips brushed over the soft beat and she gasped but did not pull away.

She felt the soft tickle of his mustache against her skin, then the gentle brush of his lips. She swallowed, her tongue sliding out to wet her suddenly dry lips. Her eyes were closed as she waited to see if it was just an accidental touch or something more. Her heart began to pound as the feelings she had kept locked away since she was a young, enamored young girl began to clamor forth in anticipation.

His breath was hot against her neck as his respiration picked up and his hands tightened on her arms. She felt it then, the rough swipe of his tongue over her pulse, the sign that it was no accidental brush of lips. She pulled back slowly and opened her eyes. Her breath caught when she saw the need burning in his eyes, a need that she knew could be filled only by her. She also saw the question there, the silent plea for something he would never ask for aloud.

“Yes.” She whispered, nodding slightly as she lowered her head and pressed her lips to his. Her arms tightened around his neck as he pulled her over the back of the sofa gently until she was draped over his lap. His lips took so gently from hers, nipping, licking and sucking with such softness that she was overcome and tears began to prick beneath her closed lids.

In some distant part of his brain Remus knew he shouldn’t be doing this, not with her, but he just couldn’t pull away, he needed to get lost in her. Just for tonight he needed to be held, to be touched by someone who felt something for him, someone who loved him even if she wasn’t in love with him. He needed something to remind him of the things in the world that were good, and for him she embodied all that was good.

As his hands slid down the smooth line of her leg to remove her shoes he was stunned at the softness of her skin, the heat that emanated from her. She was too young to have been touched by so much evil and he wished that he could remove its taint from her, to restore that innocence. Her shoes hit the carpet with a muffled thud and his hand began to backtrack up her leg, sliding beneath the hem of the knee length sleeveless dress she had worn to the service.

He had noticed how stunningly elegant she looked standing in the chapel. The slim fit of the dress, the pearls in her ears and at her throat catching the colored light shining through the stained glass, her unruly curls swept up into an elegant twist and baring the tender flesh of her nape, she was stunning. When she had come to him, leaving her friends to slide her hand in his and remain at his side he had been touched in a way that no one else had ever managed.

She moaned into his mouth when his fingers began to knead the firm, tender flesh of her thigh. His lips moved from hers to wander along her jaw, over her chin and down the front of her neck as his hand slid further beneath her dress to her hip. She held tight to his shoulders, her back arched over his other arm as he sucked the tender skin at the base of her throat.

She pushed against his shoulders and he let her go immediately, ducking his head as his cheeks colored with shame thinking that he had crossed the line and she wanted him to stop. She slid from his lap and stood between his feet.

“Remus?” She called his name softly; he looked up just as she finished lowering the zipper on the back of her dress and rolled her shoulders forward so that it slid down her arms. He stared in amazement while she pushed the dress over her hips and let it fall to the floor. She was so lovely in her simple black cotton knickers and bra that he had to force himself to breathe.

He was watching with unabashed interest as she removed her undergarments and stood before him naked and vulnerable in the dim candlelight of the parlor. She held out her hand and he took it, wrapping his fingers around hers and pulling her astride his lap. She began to work the buttons of his shirt free while his hands explored the soft globes of her breasts. His fingers toyed with the tender peaks, thumbing them, rolling them between his fingers as he plucked and worried them until she was whimpering and ripping at the shirt cuffs until the buttons pinged across the room.

He shifted long enough to remove the shirt then cupped her breasts in his hands and bent his head to suck the hardened tips into his mouth. Over and over he lashed them with his tongue, moving from one to the other like he was starving for the taste of her. One hand slid down her belly and between her thighs, sifting through the soft curls to find the hot, wet center of her.

“Oh!” She gasped, her hips bucking in surprise at the feel of his cool fingers sliding through hot flesh. She reached between them and fumbled with his belt and the fastenings of his trousers, impatient to touch him.

“Are you sure?” He whispered. “If you aren’t…” She shoved her hand into his trousers, burrowing into his boxers to wrap her fingers around his aroused flesh. He arched into her hand, hissing softly as she freed his cock from the prison of his clothes.

“I’m sure, Remus.” She whispered, lifting her body and positioning him at her entrance before sliding down slowly, taking him deep into her body. It ached slightly, her rather inexperienced body stretching to accommodate him. His hands bit into her hips as he held still, his body stiff and his eyes darting back and forth beneath closed lids as though he were warring with his own control.

Hermione suspected that despite being nearly twice her age that he wasn’t much more experienced than she was. She had never seen or heard of him with any other women. Goddess knew that Tonks had tried hard enough to catch his eye and finally gave up when he just wasn’t interested. She rocked her hips experimentally, unfamiliar with the position and not quite sure what to do.

“Remus, I don’t know what to do.” She whispered. He opened his eyes and stared up into her face, her glassy eyes and trembling lips almost more than he could bear. Guilt, grief and arousal all tore at him and his stomach lurched just before he rolled her to her back on the sofa and settled over her.

He buried his face in the side of her throat as he began moving inside her, slowly drawing back and thrusting forward again and again. Hot tears spilling from his eyes as he lost himself in her body. She had her arms around his shoulders; her legs open with her feet hooked over his calves as he moved within her. She could feel his tears, the tremble running through his body as passion and grief came together in one torturous, unnamable emotion.

Her need to comfort, to ease him guided her. She lifted and rolled her hips beneath him, encouraging him to take solace in her. She could feel the tight coil of desire inside her burning for relief, the need for release becoming stronger. She slid her hands down his back, slipping them beneath his trousers to clasp his clenching backside, pulling him to her, encouraging him to thrust harder, deeper.

“I won’t hurt you?” His voice was hoarse and thick with emotion against her ear.

“No, Remus…I need you just as much as you need me.” She whispered.

“Just for tonight…please don’t hate me tomorrow….”


“No…I could never hate you…please….” She cried out sharply when he began moving faster, forcefully between her thighs. The sensation of his cock sliding through her slick, tender flesh, bumping into her clit with every forward stroke of his hips had her crying his name to the ceiling in moments. He followed shortly after, his spine bowed, neck arched as he pumped his release into her in thick, torrential spurts that left him weak and dizzy as he slumped over her, shifting to the side slightly.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his head resting on her shoulder as they lay in the darkness, the candles having already burned down and the fire slowly dimming in the hearth. They were both breathless and sweaty.

“I’m fine.” She said, turning her head and pressing her lips to his temple.

“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have…”

“Shush…don’t say anything. Let’s just lay here and be together.” She would worry about tomorrow when it came.

“Just for tonight.” He said, exhaustion, both physical and emotional washing over him as he nestled against her, amazed at how comfortable it was. “Tomorrow it will be just a dream.” He mumbled as sleep claimed him.

~@*~*@*~*@*~*@*~*@*~*@*~*@*~*@
So as I sent our grieving couple into dreamland an image popped into my head of them seeing each other a few days later…passing casually in the kitchen and I realized that perhaps I shouldn’t be so hasty in calling it a oneshot…more may come though I will promise nothing at this point.

However, I will promise that there are a couple of longer Remus fics in the works. An adventure and a comedy of sorts…both filled with plenty of smut and romance and laughs to make everyone happy. =) Thanks for reading everyone! Please, I hope to see more people writing Remus fics…he really is a rather hot character if a bit emo. (and find creative ways to do away with Tonks…that’s always one of my favorite parts hehe)