"What, that boy there?" asked Marguerite, shocked.
"Yes, him in bed three." answered Basil, looking over at young Remus, whose father was waiting for his son to wake from his dreamless sleep. Basil wiped his eyes tiredly, as he hadn't been able to drift off after the ward was awoken last. When his wife had come in the morning, he wasted no time telling her the most scandalous piece of information he heard picked up since he had been in St Mungo's. Just managing to keep his voice to a whisper, he saw Marguerite sat there, mouth hanging open, eyes widening at every twist in the tale.
"Well, after what happened to Di, I personally think that such a creature shouldn't be allowed on shared wards" Marguerite informed Basil, not bothering to keep her voice down. Mr Lupin looked up, a numb look of offence on his face.
"Please, be quiet love!" Basil pleaded, and looked over Marguerite until Mr. Lupin had gone back to staring at his son instead of them, then added "So, what happened to Di? Is that her who lives on the Isle of Wight?"
"No, that's Beatrice. No, Di is the one with the dark hair; she lives in Plymouth with the muggle. Well actually, that's where it all started, when this husband of hers; Den I think his name is," said Marguerite, turning for a moment, trying to remember his name. "Maybe it's Daniel. Or Derry. Anyway, it was about 10 years ago now I think. It was all over the papers, even the muggle ones. I can't believe I've told you before now. It's such a tale."
"Well I wish you'd tell me now, you still haven't started" said Basil through gritted teeth. His wife never told a story quickly, she always mulled over the tiniest details instead of getting to the point. At this rate, visiting time would be over before she had started, and also Basil had the idea that John was listening too for the story.
"All right, keep your bandages on. Well you see, Di married this Derry or whatever his name is, but he had been married before. He and his four kids from his ex-wife moved in with Di in her farmhouse down in Plymouth. Well, you can tell what we all thought of that to begin with," sneered Marguerite, eyes glinting."It's one thing branching out from us, but taking on four brats? I certainly couldn't have done it." She paused, before adding "Although I did feel for them after, the poor folk."
"Why what happened?" asked Basil eagerly, wondering whatever could trigger his wife to feel sorry for muggles.
"Well, this is where it started. You see, Daniel was a regular down the old tavern, and left the kids with Di. Well, you know Di, don't you? Wouldn't say boo to a goose. So these kids ran riot, breaking things, smashing things, throwing things, even that expensive perfume I gave her a couple of years ago. Of course, Di never lifted her wand. Never wanted them to know about that side of her you see. Well one night in August, it was too hot to have all the little whippersnappers running around, so she let them run in the fields around her farm before bed. Biggest mistake of her life, if you ask me" added Marguerite, shaking her head, looking superior.
"Why?" urged Basil. He sensed that Marguerite was dragging this out on purpose.
"It wasn't until she heard the screaming that she knew something was up. She ran out, grabbing her wand, and guess what? She saw it. Huge. Must have been 7 foot. It had already had three of the kiddies' throats, and was aiming for the last. If she hadn't had ran in front of the beast and stunned it, she and the urchin would have bought it. I've never looked at Di the same way again" She sighed, with a convincing face of pity. "Imagine coming home to that; three of your four kids dead and your wife's a witch. It's enough to unscrew most folk, let alone Den. Course; they hushed it all up, didn't they? Some story about a rabid fox or dog, enough to convince the muggles, anyhow."
Basil sat very still. He could remember that in the paper. '3 MUGGLES DEAD AFTER MIDNIGHT FEAST" had been the ever so crude headline. After a while, Marguerite changed the subject to other interesting topics; a story she'd read in Witch Weekly, whether they should invest in a new wireless, and the fact that one of their regulars at the pub had recently disappeared. Basil wasn't listening. He nodded ever so often, but his mind was elsewhere. He always knew the barbaric behaviour of the brutes, but hearing it in the savage tones of Marguerite seemed to make it more real. And as his eyes travelled up from his lap, he saw the boy, and couldn't seem to believe that this Remus was suffering from the same illness as the beast from his wife's story. That such a small boy could maim, and kill. He briefly looked at Mr Lupin, whose face was glazed with tears, and it seemed Mr Lupin couldn't believe it either.