the_debt_of_time

lycanthropy. He might have removed the memories, but Moony apparently had his own that
he clung to on instinct.
"Hermione, I don't think anyone is capable of hating you," he promised her. "You're
too good—too kind."
She looked up at him incredulously. "Everyone hates me."
"I don't."
Hermione sniffled and smiled sadly up at him. "All the Slytherins hate me because
I'm Muggle-born, especially Malfoy."
She uttered the boy's name with so much disdain that Remus could actually see a
glimpse of Mia inside of the girl.
"All my roommates hate me because I care more about books than makeup.
Professor Snape hates me because I'm a little know-it-all." She hiccoughed. "And now even
Ron and Harry hate me."
"Come on," Remus insisted as he stood up, wincing a bit as his knees creaked. "I'll
fix us a cup of tea, and you can tell me all about it."
"I'm sorry, Professor, I... I didn't mean to burden you with my problems. It's
stupid," she said, continuing to sniff through her words.
"You are not a burden, Hermione," Remus promised her. "It's Christmas, and it
appears we're both not good company for others, so indulge this old man a cup of tea and
some nice conversation, will you?"
Hermione smiled sadly. "You're not old, Professor."
"I'm old enough to be your professor." Remus snorted and made his way into his
office, waving his wand to levitate a small kettle to a nearby burner that ignited. He turned
around as she entered his office. The place was cluttered, filled with books, parchments,
and old artefacts and objects he was hoping to show for the following term's lessons.
Instead of being appalled at the untidy state of the room, Hermione looked intrigued by
the large stack of books on his desk.
He smiled at her curiosity. "Feel free to browse."
Her red-rimmed eyes brightened, and she sat down in a chair opposite his desk to
peruse his collection of books. "Am I allowed to read these? I have to imagine some would
belong in the Restricted Section of the library."