In truth, Remus wasn't sure what she'd do. She had every right to yell at him, or to even physically attack him if she wanted. It was only fair after what he'd heard he'd done to her. For so long, Remus had been terrified he'd one day bite someone. He'd come close once before while he was in school, and that had been bad enough. It didn't matter to him that she wasn't human enough to be contaminated by the lycanthrope affliction. She was still someone and he'd caused her injury. While it was a good thing that there wasn't another person infected and now a werewolf, it didn't lessen his guilt; it didn't make him feel better about it.
That shame started to build in the pit of his belly and rise like bile up in his throat when she started to talk about what Moony had done to her. He didn't want to picture it, but he felt he owed it to her not to block it out of his mind. Remus had no recollection of those events, but he could still imagine it, and it rattled his very core.
He forced himself to look -- to assess and see what he'd done and what had to be repaired. He could see where red met blue, the indication of where he'd bitten. "But it did happen," he said, a little shaky in the way he spoke. "And I'm.. I cannot.. begin to express how sorry I am. How ashamed I feel for the wolf's actions. I intended to seek you out to tell you that, but thought I should give you some time in case you wouldn't want to see me."