Basil Coleman was sitting bold upright in his pristine hospital bed. His back was uncomfortably straight, as his right leg was raised above his head by a winch to prevent extensive bleeding. He had been bitten by a somewhat infected niffler at work five days earlier, and had been incapacitated since then. Basil now understood why someone had tied a green tinged niffler to the outside of his pub, and abandoned it. He also accepted that he should have called the ministry, instead of approaching it with the intention to nursing it back health. The bite on his calf had been tolerable until he started vomiting emerald hair when he had tried to charm it, dab it, bandage it or even counter-curse it. The healers here at St Mungo's were also having problems, mainly preventing Basil from choking while experimenting with different treatment. But he was on the mend now, after Healer Titus had managed to combine some extremely diluted phoenix tears with murtlap, although Basil would have to remain in the ward until he could walk at least to the doors.
He sat there, day after day, with a stringy buttery gel covering his lower leg, reading anything and everything his wife Marguerite brought him every other day, pretending to care what was happening in the Quidditch league and rifling through forgotten favourite books. Every now and again, someone would come and tend to or visit the other three patients in the ward. Basil was a private man, so didn't want to embarrass the other affiliates by being nosy into their aches and ailments, but as far as he could see, one woman had tiny bite marks all over her face and presumably body, perhaps from falling into a bowtruckle borrow, Basil wondered. The other two men had been in the same accident he thought. As far as he could gather from overheard conversations, they worked in a dragon compound, and had received extensive burns after their office caught fire. But Basil knew how mortified he would be if he were asked about his injuries, so he didn't raise these theories with his fellow patients.
So there he lay, unusually prim upon his pillows, when the doors to his left flew open. A whole crowd of people burst into the ward, causing Basil to jump and yelp painfully at his leg. The crowd didn't notice this; as they were too busy fretting over a long stretcher they had brought in, hovering eerily in the middle of them. There were seven healers all bustling round it, and a distraught looking wizard drifting behind it, as if in a daze, not knowing what to do. One of the younger healers looked around and acted at just the right second; he ran and caught the wizard around the waist just as he fell to the ground, paralysed with shock. Basil watched this unfold, unable to look away, and as the healers brought the stretcher to the bed opposite to him, he could see the occupier. He heart dropped. It was a boy. A young boy he thought, but he could not see his face for all of the blood simply pouring from his neck. Basil now understood why the wizard looked so distressed; it looked a terrible injury, made even worse when inflicted on a small child. The healers were now cleaning and dressing the boy's extensive wounds, while the other had drawn up a chair for what Basil had taken to be the boy's father. The wizard just sat there staring at his son, then looking at his feet, then back to his son, mumbling to himself, over and over. The younger healer rubbed his patted his back, whispering hopeful words into his ear, although the wizard appeared not to have acknowledged his presence, let alone his opinion. After the healers had done all they could, muttering long and complex charms that stemmed the bleeding, they walked over to wizard, and said "Mr Lupin, We need to collect some details from you now. We understand it's for it's a difficult time for you and..." they looked uncertainly from Mr Lupin to the boy.
"It's Remus. He's called Remus" he breathed, the first intelligible words he had spoken, as if speaking his son's name had awoken him.
"Well, we need the basic timeline of the attack, and I'm sure the ministry will too, they are on their way. I'm afraid that from what we've gathered and what you've reported, Remus will have to stay for further treatment, although you know as well as I do, he cannot be cured completely" they finished, looking grave and pitying upon both father and son. "If you will just accompany us for a few minutes for a more private discussion (Basil suddenly dropped his eyes), you can soon get back to your son".
Mr Lupin nodded, and looked down at his hands, which were soaked in Remus's blood, with an expression of a feeling that Basil never wanted to feel. He rose slowly, running his fingers through his copper hair, and followed the group of healers through the double doors. Before the door closed however, he span round for one last glance round at his son, whose eyes were still tightly shut as if sleeping peacefully.