His head was pounding and he felt weak and woozy. He had the distinct feeling that if he opened his eyes, the room would start spinning. The potions must have hit him harder than usual this month.

But that was wrong. After the potions, the ache was in his belly, not his head. That made no sense. Remus could tell from the feel of the bed under him that he was in the hospital wing. He tried to move his hands, only to discover that both of them were being held tightly.

"Sirius?" he whispered. His tongue felt thick and wooly. He was very thirsty.

The grip on his hands tightened.

"He's awake!"

"Remus?"

Familiar voices, but not his friends.

"Mum?" He risked opening his eyes. "Dad?"

"Remus, why - ?"

"How could you - ?"

They both seemed terribly upset about something, but Remus could make no sense of their words. He closed his eyes again. Perhaps he was dreaming. He could think of no good reason why his parents would be at Hogwarts.

"Is he awake?" Another voice, clipped and professional. Madam Pomfrey.

"I-I think so," said his mother.

"Good. Please stand aside, Mr and Mrs Lupin. Remus will feel much better once he's had a dose of this."

His parents' hands let go reluctantly, and a strong arm around his shoulders raised him halfway into a sitting position. Even that much movement made him feel sick and dizzy, but Remus obediently swallowed the potion pressed to his lips. It was warm and thick, with a metallic tang to it. His head began to clear almost immediately as the matron eased him back onto the pillow.

"Better now?" she asked as his eyes blinked open once more.

He nodded.

"You've lost a lot of blood," she informed him. "You're very lucky that Potter and Pettigrew found you in time, and that Potter managed to keep his head."

"Blood?" He remembered blood. A lot of it. Smeared and dripping on the white tiles of the bathroom floor.

"You tried to kill yourself, Remus." His father's voice was strained. "Why?"

Remus glanced down in surprise and noticed the bandages on his wrists for the first time. He remembered the razor now, but what had come before that?

"Mr Lupin had a very upsetting experience yesterday," said a no-nonsense Scottish voice from the doorway. Professor McGonagall joined the other adults clustered around his bed. "Please rest assured that Headmaster Dumbledore is dealing with the matter personally. He has spoken to Mr Snape - "

Snape. Remus shuddered as the memory came rushing back to him. The sneer. The spell. The sudden chill. The laugh.

"I - " he said, interrupting McGonagall's explanation of the previous day's incident.

His mother was by his side at once. "What is it, Sweetheart? Do you need something?"

"I want - " he licked his lips. "I want to go home. Please?"

"Of course, Love," his mother soothed, stroking his hair. "That's why we're here."

But he could not leave. Not immediately. Madam Pomfrey declared him unfit for travel, and said he must remain in the hospital wing for the rest of the day, taking regular doses of the blood-restorative draught. Professor McGonagall arranged rooms for his parents, but one or both of them remained at his bedside as he slept - or pretended to - all that day.

Once, when his mother disappeared to the toilets, Remus asked after his friends.

Madam Pomfrey frowned. "I've told them that you need your rest. You're too weak for rowdy visitors."

Remus nodded. He was not sure he wanted to see his friends after everything that had happened. What must they think of him now? What must Sirius think?

When his mother returned, he pretended to sleep again, eventually falling into an uneasy doze. At one point, he thought he heard Sirius's anxious voice outside the infirmary door, but that might have been only a dream.

Daylight was fading from the high windows of the hospital wing by the time Madam Pomfrey pronounced him fit enough for the journey home. Dressing himself still proved exhausting, but at least he could stand on his own. The school house-elves had brought a few of his things down from the dormitory so that he did not have to make the long climb to Gryffindor tower.

Remus hoped that he could sneak away while his friends were at supper, but Sirius was sitting on the stone bench just outside the doors to the hospital wing when Remus and his family emerged. He looked as if he had not slept, and he was wearing the same robes he had had on the day before.

"Remus!" he cried, leaping to his feet. "Remus, are you - ?"

Remus kept his eyes down, and did not stop or acknowledge the other boy. His father put an arm around his shoulders and turned him towards the great staircase leading down to the entrance hall. Sirius did not follow.


Most of his first two days at home were spent in bed, resting and regaining his strength. At least, that was the idea. Mostly, he wallowed in his own misery. His parents hovered over him, worried, but they did not try to talk to him immediately about what had happened, for which Remus was grateful.

It was all such a mess. Snape. James and Peter. Sirius. And now they knew, too, what a weakling and a coward he was.

Two owls arrived from Hogwarts on the third day. One carried a list of assignments which his professors expected him to complete. The other was in Sirius's carelessly elegant scrawl, and seemed to confirm all of Remus's worst fears.

Lupin, you utter Tosser! I cannot Believe you would try to Top yourself! I'd ask you what you were Thinking, but clearly you weren't. Not about your Friends. Not about your Family either, I guess. I hope you're Happy. Pete's been having Nightmares. You're Lucky that James knew that Tourniquet Charm from Quidditch. But did you even Thank him for that? No! Because you are a complete Arsehole. We would have done Anything for you. But I guess you didn't Care enough to even Talk to us. It's a Good Thing you're not here right now, or I'd punch you right in your stupid Face.

- S

That was it. It was over. Sirius hated him. Remus had lost the person whose good opinion mattered most to him in all the world. He stuffed the letter into the drawer of the nightstand and stared up at the ceiling, feeling numb.


Remus was lying on his bed reading a book when his father knocked on the door two days later.

"There's been an owl for you," Marcellus Lupin said.

The scroll was too small to be official Hogwarts business, which probably meant more bad news. Remus took it from his father, but waited for him to leave before opening it.

Marcellus hesitated at the foot of his bed. "I think it's past time we talked about some things, Remus. Will you join me and your mother in the sitting room in a few minutes?"

Remus nodded. He had known this was coming.

His father went out, and Remus's eyes reluctantly returned to the small parchment. Hands trembling, he unrolled it. It was from James.

Remus,

When are you coming back? Sirius has been in a strop ever since you left. He's impossible to live with. He keeps saying he wants to punch you, but the other night when I got up to go to the toilet, he was sleeping in your bed. I think he misses you. Dumbledore made Snivellus promise not to tell anyone, so you don't have to worry about that. It's weird here with just the three of us.

See you soon, I hope.

- James

Remus rubbed a hand over his face, feeling tired. He was not at all sure he wanted to go back to school. James seemed friendly enough, and maybe he was right about Sirius, but if his recent experiences had taught Remus anything, it was that his secret would never be entirely safe, and he could be found out at any time. That fear and anxiety had already almost killed him once. Was it even worth trying again, letting himself get invested in a world he could be ripped out of at any time? He had good marks on his OWLs; did he really need his NEWTs?

Remus sighed and dropped the scroll on the nightstand, on top of the pile of untouched schoolwork. He would think about it after he talked with his parents. They would probably be too afraid to even let him out of the house after what he had done, let alone send him back to Hogwarts.

He got up and dressed himself in real clothes for the first time in a week. His shirtsleeves would not button around his bandaged wrists, and Remus removed the gauze. The scars were a vivid pink, but they were almost healed. He stared at them, feeling embarrassed. His parents must surely be disappointed in him, and now they were waiting for him to explain his behaviour, which he was not sure he could do. With a sigh, he pushed open his bedroom door.

They sat at either end of the sofa. The space between them might as well have had Remus's name on it, so clearly was it reserved for him. The strain of the last week showed on his parents' faces. Remus sat, staring down at his hands, knowing he owed it to them to start.

He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I know it was stupid and I've upset you. I wasn't thinking straight. I promise it won't happen again."

A small hiccoughing sound from his mother surprised him. As he raised his head to look at her, his father swore and grabbed him in a fierce bear hug. Marcellus's arms were tight around him, his mother was crying on his shoulder, and the numbing fear that had blocked every other feeling for the past week crumbled. Hot tears poured down Remus's cheeks as sobs shook his body.

It was long minutes before any of them were able to speak. At last his father sat back, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, one arm still around Remus. Sylvia Lupin sniffled and took out a handkerchief to blow her nose, one-handed, her other hand gripping Remus's tightly, as if she would never let go.

"We never knew you were so unhappy, Sweetheart." Her voice trembled as she spoke. "Have we handled things so badly? Was there something more we could have done?"

"I don't know," Remus admitted. "But I haven't been unhappy. Not all the time, anyway. I was just scared of people finding out."

"If they find out, they find out," said Marcellus. "We'll fight that dragon when we come to it. But even if that happens, you're always safe here with me and your mother. You know that, right?"

Remus tried to smile. "I know, Dad. But the inheritance - "

"Forget the inheritance," said Sylvia. "It's only money. You are what's important. If it would be easier for you not to have to hide - "

Remus shook his head. "If word gets out, I'll never have any kind of normal life. There aren't that many wizards in Britain; everyone would know. I'd have to live as a Muggle or move to another country. And it wouldn't be any easier for you, having people find out you're the parents of a freak."

"You're not a freak, Remus," said his father, squeezing his shoulder. "You're my son, and I love you."

My son. Marcellus hardly ever said those words. Remus closed his eyes and bit his lip, afraid he might start crying again. "And if you never find a cure?"

"Then you're still my son, and I still love you," Marcellus said steadily. "I know I haven't always been a perfect father. It's been hard, watching you struggle."

"We didn't know what to do, after it happened," Sylvia admitted, voice soft. "You were so young, you probably can't even remember. We were in shock, thinking we had lost our little boy, but we did our best to care for the little girl we thought we had been given. We bought you new clothes. New toys. We even tried changing your name."

Remus stared at her. This was news to him.

His father gave him an apologetic half-smile. "But you were having none of it. You just carried on as always, playing with the same toys, demanding your old clothes, and refusing to answer to anything but 'Remus'. It didn't take long for us to see that you hadn't changed at all, and that you were happiest being who you had always been. Your happiness was the only thing we ever wanted, Son."

"If keeping things quiet and carrying on as we have been is what you want," said his mother, squeezing his hand, "then that's what we'll do. But if there's anything you want to change, all you have to do is tell us."

Remus had never been so grateful to have the parents he had, but he was still a little afraid to ask for what he really wanted. "There's one thing - "

"Name it," said his father. "If it's possible, we'll move heaven and earth to see that it happens."

"Would you - stop looking for a cure?" he asked. "I don't think there is one, and you shouldn't be wasting your money."

His mother looked shocked. She was the sort of witch who believed that nothing was impossible, with magic.

"Instead," Remus pressed on, "could you maybe look into the Muggle treatments Dumbledore mentioned? If they have something that might help, I'd like to at least find out about it. I don't think it could be any worse than the potions I'm taking now."

"Muggle medicine?" His mother frowned. "I'm not sure that's wise, Remus."

Remus did not like to push his parents after they had been so wonderfully understanding, but he knew this might be his best chance. "You said you'd do anything," he reminded them quietly.

"We did," his father agreed. "If that's what you want, we'll look into it. Will you continue with your potions for now, once you're back at school?"

Remus hesitated. "I wasn't sure you'd want me to go back."

"Not go back to school?" cried his mother, shocked. "But what about your NEWTs?"

"I have my OWLs," he pointed out.

His father frowned. "Don't you want to go back to school, Remus?"

Remus shrugged, not meeting his parents' eyes.

"You know Dumbledore won't let those boys tell anyone," Sylvia reminded him gently.

"It's not just that," Remus whispered.

"Are you worried about your friends?" asked Marcellus. "You've had two owls from them since you've been home. They must be worried about you."

Remus hung his head miserably, trying not to think about the letter Sirius had written him. "It's embarrassing," he admitted. "They all saw me, and then I tried to top myself. What must they think of me now?"

"There's only one way to find out," said his mother. "If things are really as bad as all that, we can talk about other options over the holidays. But I think, and I'm sure your father agrees with me, that you should at least give it a try."

Marcellus nodded. "It's not good for you to be alone, Remus. A boy of your age should have friends around him."

"All right," sighed Remus. "I'll try."

"That's the spirit." His father smiled. "I expect this means you have some schoolwork to do before supper."