Chapter VI

Remus turned the page of the book he was reading quietly in order not to wake his sleeping son or wife, trying to use the brief time when they were both resting peacefully to study the pile of books he had surrounded himself with. He had gathered every single title that referenced catatonia when he visited the Karnac Books bookshop on his most recent trip to retrieve some necessities in London. He scrunched up his feature in distaste as he once again stumbled over yet another mention of electroconvulsive therapy. ECT seemed to be the primary course of treatment in cases similar to Dora's, but no matter how much the muggle authors assured him that it was perfectly safe as patients were first put to sleep, then given anticonvulsants and only remembered having a nap afterwards, resulting in the therapy sometimes being referred to as sleep therapy, Remus could not shake the feeling that this solution was rather barbaric, especially when the patient was in no state to consent to it like Dora at the moment. The other cures the muggles had come up with sounded tamer in comparison as they came in the form of medications, though some of those could also result in severe consequences as some like the benzodiazepines tended to be extremely addictive.

Unfortunately there was no way of knowing how the medications would act when administered to a witch. After all, from the little Remus could understand, there were some differences in the genetic make-up of muggles and wizards. And his wife's metamorph abilities served to widen the gap between her and an average non-wizard even more. Not for the first time Remus wished that he possessed better potions skills, he might yet find a way to translate the muggle pharmaceutics into potent wizarding cures.

Wizarding healers had not spent anywhere near as much time on researching non-physical ailments as the muggle doctors. If something could not be solved with pepper up potions, chocolate and healing spells, more often than not, they deemed the patient beyond their help. And the sufferer ended up back in his family's care or in the worst case scenario found themselves a permanent resident of St. Mungo's.

Just as Remus put Catatonia: From Psychopathology to Neurobiology on top of The Madness of Fear: A History of Catatonia and wiped at his eyes to chase away the tiredness, the alarm which let him know that the defences of his family's residence had been breached set off. He jumped up from the bed at once, completely alert, wand drawn, straining his werewolf ears to catch a clue as to who the intruders might be. Teddy stirred, but did not wake. His father moved his wand in a few complicated motions to put up some extra protective enchantments on the room and conjured his corporeal Patronus.

"Protect them at all costs," he whispered to the wolf.

The silver animal showed his set of perfect teeth in response and Remus set off down the stairs. As he approached the landing, he relaxed somewhat as he took in the familiar scent of two people, but did not drop his wand hand as he reached the door in three short strides.

"Who is it?" he called hoarsely.

"You know fully well who it is, Moony, so just go on and let us in, would you?" his oldest friend growled from the other side.

Remus chose to ignore Sirius and directed his next question to his companion: "Harry, what colour was my wife's hair the first time you two met?'

"Eh…it was violet, wasn't it?" Harry asked, not completely sure of himself.

Satisfied with the response, the werewolf opened the door and ushered the pair inside.

"Sorry," the younger wizard mouthed from behind Sirius. "There was no stopping him."

The boy who lived looked between the two older men, unsure if he was expected to take part in their conversation.

"Harry, could you please keep an eye on Teddy?" Remus asked, noticing his uncertainty.

"Erm, sure, where is he?"

"Upstairs, in my and Dora's bedroom," Remus navigated him.

He waited until the thumping of shoes on the stairs stopped and only then did he release his hold on the Patronus and turned to the other Marauder.

"So…," Sirius started, struggling to find the right words now that he had actually arrived here.

Before either of the two men managed to form a complete statement, there was a commotion on the stairs behind them and Tonks came running down the stairs as if on a mission, but her eyes were glassy and unseeing as she barrelled directly into her cousin. Sirius took a deep breath as he tried to stand up and hoist the young witch with him, but his muscles were still too weak from his long sleep, and he found himself incapable of supporting their joint weight. His vision blurred as he was hit by an onslaught of memories and emotions.

He was fighting Bellatrix in the Department of Mysteries, countering one spell after the other, only turning slightly away from his own battle to mutter a swift Protego between Mad-Eye and one of Bellatrix's misfired spells. He noticed the spell that his aunt fired towards him a moment too late and unable to dodge it at the last second, a force hit him square in the chest and barely aware of the fall down the staircase he succumbed to the darkness.

He was outside the Burrow and Remus was looking at him with a silent plea, and he knew where this conversation was headed, just as the dozen others they had had over the long summer in the short moments he managed to corner the werewolf following Order meetings. He felt panicked, furious and sad all at once as he listened to Remus explaining his suicide mission with Greyback.

He was at Hogwarts' and Snivellus slammed the gate shut into his face as he insulted his new Patronus, the malice evident in his voice. Angry red flared before his eyes as he stomped away from the castle.

He was at the Three Broomsticks and Proudfoot shouted at him: "Hey, Tonks, wanna join us?" He shook his head in decline and headed in the direction of his room.

"What did you even call her for? Might as well spend time with Moaning Myrtle," Dawlish drawled to his other colleague behind his back.

He was staring at his pale reflection in the mirror, scrunching up his face in concentration trying to change the mousy brown of his hair to a different colour, but managing only to turn his hair ends a shade darker.

He was surrounded by a swirl of Dementors from all sides, grasping for happy thoughts that would just not come, only managing to conjure slivers of silver that quickly dissipated in the surrounding mist. He put down his wand had, resigned.

He was in the Hospital Wing and Dumbledore was dead, and he was holding onto Remus' coat as all eyes were set on the two of them. But the werewolf would still not meet his eyes as he repeated his tiring mantra.

He was curled up on the sofa with his hands holding his lower stomach. Mad Eye was dead and Remus was completely distant, and he could not make him see that the fact they would bring their child into this world was a good thing.

He was at the Tonks' house, Andromeda was stroking his hair as he wept silently, cursing the day Remus Lupin was born. He had pushed him away again, but it stung even more than the previous time now that he was bearing his child.

"Padfoot, can you hear me?" a distant voice yelled to Sirius.

He blinked and opened his eyes and found himself back at the cottage. He took in a sharp breath, gathering all his strength before slamming his fist into Lupin's face.

The werewolf staggered backwards both from surprise and from the force behind his friends' hit and clutched his bleeding lip.

"Sirius Orion Black, what in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" Andromeda's strict voice sounded from the door.

"Sorry, Moony," Sirius said sounding decidedly unapologetic. "But you had it coming to you."