Muggle Sleeping Potions

Remus John Lupin was not a light sleeper. Nor was he a heavily sleeper, so he supposed that made him a middleweight sleeper. But nevertheless, he needed his middleweight sleep.

It was one of those unfortunate side-effects of his Lycanthropy. Like always having to wear long sleeves to cover his scars, and swiftly plucking out those occasional grey hairs that grew in with the brown. His metabolism worked much quicker than a normal fifteen-year-old boys. It meant he was always just a shade away from too skinny to be healthy, and it also meant he needed appropriate amounts of sleep.

But tonight he couldn't. In fact, he hadn't slept in over a week now. And the insomnia was grating on him.

He rolled onto his stomach instead, pulling his pillow rather viciously towards him and rearranging it to make it more comfortable, then dropped his head heavily and pressed his eyes tightly shut. He was determined to get some sleep tonight.

People had been commenting on how awful he looked, and he'd really rather not be subjected to their scrutiny. Though not remarkably observant, most of his fellow Gryffindors were reasonably intelligent and he always worried that they would work out the pattern of his absences if they looked too closely. More worryingly still was that students who had long since accepted that he was just a sickly boy with a family prone to disaster were starting to look twice at him, eyes questioning - prying.

He had caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror the day before, and he thoroughly understood their concern. He did look pretty bad. The grey smudges under his eyes - usually reserved only for the day after the moon - had become a permanent feature, more prominent against his pasty skin, and the small scar across the corner of his mouth was starkly pink in contrast.

He must look dreadful, he decided, because people outside the Marauders - and Lily - were coddling him. Dorcas kept bringing him food from the kitchens, and Mary McDonald had offered to help him revise his Potions work. It was getting a little annoying - he wasn't an antique vase that needed wrapping in cotton wool! He just needed some sleep.

Even the reliable temper of Marlene McKinnon had failed him, and she had politely enquired as to the whereabouts of a certain James Potter, then wandered away. She had, of course, then given James the bollocking of his life for not preventing Sirius from doing something so stupid he was banned from Quidditch indefinitely.

And there was the problem. Sirius.

By now, everyone in the castle knew about the 'prank', as they had taken to calling it. Well, they knew a half-truth version. Remus was incredibly impressed with - and thankful for - Dumbledore's amazing ability to twist even the worst kind of truths into something less damaging and significantly more useful.

The Headmaster had preserved the story perfectly, changing only one detail. Or omitting, rather. He simply didn't specify what was at the end of the tunnel.

So, the school knew that Sirius Black had done something stupid, which was not at all unusual, and that it had involved Severus Snape. The general school opinion was that the 'prank' was stupid and dangerous - 'Always has been cruel, that Black. It's in the blood' - that it had gotten out of hand and gone too far - 'Knew it was only a matter of time with those boys' - and that Sirius was a positive wreck because of it - 'and so he should be, after a stunt like that'.

But the sensational part of the story was not that Snape had almost been killed by some terrible unknown creature, or possibly just the crazed tree itself. The shock came in the form of the saviour. James Potter had saved Severus Snape.

James Potter had saved Severus Snape.

Remus was thankful for the unexpected focus on the story, because it had stopped anybody from connecting his sudden illness to Sirius' absence. And that was it. Remus hadn't seen Sirius since that evening, when he had left to go to the shack.

The older boy had already left the dorm when James and Peter had returned the morning after, and had taken his trunk with him. He hadn't been in Gryffindor tower since, nor had he appeared in the Great Hall at mealtimes. He hadn't been to a single lesson, either, and this fact alone wouldn't have bothered him, but not one teacher had commented on it.

Remus was beginning to wonder if Sirius had dropped out. Just left, and gone back to his hellish family, rather than face them - face him.

It wasn't even that Remus was angry - he had always struggled to hold a grudge, and this would have been no different. But, in truth, he hadn't once felt angry in the last eight days.

The first thing he had felt was panic. Complete and utter, heart-stopping cold panic.

In that terrifying moment, He had thought it was over. His secret was out. He'd be expelled for definite, probably executed if he had managed to attack someone. Dumbledore would be publicly lynched, stripped of his position for ever allowing such a beast into an educational environment. And his parents, oh god. They'd be arrested for not putting him on the werewolf register immediately after the bite, probably accused of harbouring dark creatures for Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

After that ridiculously long moment of overwhelming dread and guilt and fear, everything James and Peter added was an enormous wave of relief.

Snape didn't get in, James stopped him.

Neither boy was hurt, no death - or worse.

Remus wasn't going to be expelled, or ostracised.

Dumbledore had sworn the Slytherin to secrecy, and Remus' secret was still just that - secret.

Remus felt a little guilty that he hadn't even thought about Sirius until he had been firmly tucked into his bed at the back of the hospital wing. It wasn't with anger. He wasn't angry about the…

He didn't rightly know what to call it. Not betrayal, it was too strong. It implied something intentional, premeditated, and Remus was certain that was not the case. Sirius had let his mouth run off before his brain could catch up. It wasn't the first time and it most certainly wouldn't be the last.

And that was that, as far as Remus was concerned. There was no reason to forgive Sirius, because he hadn't done anything wrong in the first place. So, no anger. Instead, that peculiar mixture of guilt and relief had been slowly replaced by this incessant worrying.

Sleep wasn't coming. Remus half-heartedly punched his pillow, then got out of bed. He pulled his school robe on over his pyjamas and left the dorm as quietly as possible.

He hadn't bothered with the invisibility cloak for fear of waking his roommates, and he hadn't needed to. Even Peeves, the resident annoying-as-hell poltergeist had given up on finding students to get into trouble at four thirty in the morning, and all the teachers were soundly sleeping in their beds.

' Remus?'

Or not.

' Remus? What are you doing down here?'

He took a deep breath, then turned to face Professor Knox. She didn't look like she was about to lecture him, though. She looked concerned.

' Couldn't sleep,' Remus mumbled. ' Sorry, Professor, I'll just go…'

' No, no. It's okay. It's understandable.'

Ah, yes. Remus always forgot the staff knew the full story. She was looking closely at his face, and he waited for the inevitable comment about his appearance. Instead she stepped back and gestured for him to follow.

' I think I've got something that'll help.'

' Err… Help what, exactly, Professor?'

' You sleep,' she said simply.

She led him to her office, and then proceeded to root about in her drawers for a few moments. They seemed incredibly unorganised, illogical and Remus' inner prefect wanted to scold her and rearrange the paperwork. Alphabetically. She didn't have any trouble navigating the mess however, and straightened up holding a small vial of a turquoise liquid.

' Organised chaos,' she explained, catching the alarmed look in his eyes. ' Here. It's a Muggle sleeping draft. Just herbs and roots and the like, but really rather effective.'

' Then, what are you doing awake at this time?' he asked without thinking, then swiftly adding, ' If you don't mind me asking.'

She chuckled at his correction. ' Marking. With the exams drawing closer I've set essay homework left right and centre, not considering when I would get time to grade it. The woes of teaching - terrible profession.'

' You seem to like it.'

' I do. Very… Interesting,' she paused, clearly considering something. Then she looked Remus in the eye and said quietly, ' He really regrets it, you know. He's really, very sorry.'

' Sirius? You've seen him?' Remus didn't know why he was surprised by this, really. It was almost exam time, the staff wouldn't let him off his work regardless of the situation.

' Yeah. It's the first time I've seen him concentrate on his work. It's unsettling, to tell you the truth,' she smiled.

' Not that it matters,' Remus said, without bitterness. ' His marks can't get any higher no matter how hard he tries. Nothing higher than and 'Outstanding'. Unless they invent a 'Ridiculous'.'

She laughed again, and then bid him goodnight, or good morning, she wasn't sure which was appropriate. Remus made his way to the office door, then turned back to her.

' He doesn't have to be sorry, you know. He doesn't have to avoid me. I'm not mad. I just… miss him.'

And then he left, before she could say anything.

And, he didn't see the black-haired boy crawl out from his hiding place under the desk.

Here we go, chapter eleven. Bit shorter this time, but not too much. And the next one will be up later tonight, to make up for it.

I don't really have much else to say. How odd.

Thanks for reading! Please Review! Danke Shern!