Sunday morning, Sirius refused to get out of bed. He felt exhausted, far too weary to even think about taking a single step, let alone dragging himself downstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast.
"Still feeling hungover, mate?" James asked, hovering over Sirius' bed.
Sirius shrugged. "A little, I guess. I'm just tired. Been so busy with school and quidditch and all, I just want a nice lie in."
Sensing that any attempts to argue with him would be useless, the remaining marauders exited the dorm, leaving Sirius to his own devices. His head was still throbbing and his stomach ached, a feeling he was beginning to become quite used to. The night prior was a bit hazy to him; he remembered waking up and being sick, but he was unsure how he ended up back in his bed. The lack of a memory for that made Sirius slightly uncomfortable. I mean, I've blacked out from drinking before, but I didn't even drink all that much yesterday, he considered, chewing on his lower lip.
Unable to fall back asleep, Sirius shakily rose up from the bed, quickly pulling on the closest articles of clothing to him. He dug around in his robe pockets until he found his mokeskin pouch, removing his vial of pills. He opened the vial, only to discover that there was only four left. "Fuck," Sirius muttered, staring dejectedly at the four pills in the palm of his hand. Shrugging, he dry-swallowed them, tossing the empty bottle aside. "Now what?" he asked himself, beginning to pace back and forth. He needed to get more. After all, he had discovered not too long ago that he would experience withdrawal symptoms if he didn't get any into his system on a day to day basis. Pulling on his robes, Sirius hastily exited the dorm, heading towards the owlery. He would have to owl Evelyn and beg her to send him some by post. There was no other way. Quickly, he penned a note to Evelyn, giving her directions to the pharmacy he frequented, attaching several muggle notes into the letter, for her to make the purchase for him. Once the owl was sent off, Sirius' anxiety ebbed a bit. He had done what he could; all that was left to do was wait.
Sirius returned to Gryffindor Tower, making himself cozy in an armchair by the fireplace. Though it was only the beginning of November, Sirius felt horribly cold. He stared into the fire, mesmerized by the flames. The common room was surprisingly empty for this time of day. It was sunny out, so most of the students were likely taking advantage of the decent weather and enjoying some time outdoors before winter came. Sirius glanced towards the entrance to the girls' dormitories, thinking. He had overheard snippets of conversations among some of the girls in his year, discussing diet pills. Perhaps, he could sneak up into the dorms and nick some off of one of the girls, to hold him over until Evelyn could send him more speed. He furrowed his brow, considering. Maybe I could just try summoning them, he thought, staring down at his wand, lying in his lap. Wouldn't hurt to try, would it? He considered, biting his lip again. Shrugging, he picked up his wand, and with a flick of his wrist, muttered "Accio diet pills."
Surely enough, seconds later, a bottle labeled 'Phentermine' flew towards him, into his hand. Curious as to what the effect would be, he opened the bottle, dispensing 4 into the palm of his hand. He swallowed them quickly, gagging a bit from the bitter taste. Sirius spent the afternoon working on homework, taking frequent breaks to visit the Owlery on the off chance that Evelyn may have sent him back a reply to his letter. His friends returned to the common room, insisting that he join them for dinner, since he was apparently feeling well enough to be up and about.
Dinner was unpleasant. Sirius felt irritable, having too much energy to sit still. He fidgeted, pouting at the spread before him.
"Aren't you going to eat something, Sirius?" James questioned, loudly.
"No, Prongs. I'm not hungry," Sirius snapped back, crossing his arms over his chest.
"This is absurd, Pads, you're acting like a child."
Sirius glared in response, shooting James a withering look.
"Sirius," Remus said lowly, "you really need to eat something. You were sick all last night, and you haven't eaten all day."
"Fine," Sirius muttered, rolling his eyes.
He watched as his three friends watched him carefully place a handful of lettuce on his plate, as well as a meager spoonful of green beans. Spearing a lettuce leaf with his fork, he stared down James as he brought the fork to his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he chewed the mouthful of lettuce precisely twelve times, before swallowing. To Sirius' disgust, his friends continued to watch him. They want to bloody watch me eat? Fine, fuck 'em, he thought to himself angrily, spearing a green bean with his fork. He stared down at his plate for the remainder of the meal, focusing on eating, ignoring the stares he was receiving the entire time. "There, I ate. Happy now?" he sneered, dropping his fork onto his now-empty plate. Not bothering to wait for a response, Sirius stood and stalked off, back towards Gryffindor Tower.
"I feel sick," Sirius moaned lowly, clutching his stomach.
"Why, though? You barely ate at dinner," Remus noted, glancing at Sirius from his armchair, across from where Sirius sat.
They had been sitting in the Common Room since after dinner, working on homework. It was now pushing on midnight, and James and Peter had long since retired for the night, leaving only the two of them. Sirius shrugged in response. "It's like this every time I eat... I eat, and I'm greeted with nausea and pain in my stomach."
Remus nodded, unsure of how to respond. Over the past few weeks, he had begun to suspect that his friend was in the midst of some sort of a relapse, but he found himself at a loss for words as to how to broach the subject.
"You've lost weight," he noted, unsure of anything else to say.
"Not really," Sirius replied, staring Remus down.
"Yes, you have," Remus continued, matching his friend's stare.
"It's just from quidditch. I was out of shape from doing nothing all summer. Just redistribution of weight, mate," Sirius replied.
"Why don't you cut the shit and just admit that you're relapsing?" Remus asked, exasperated.
"I'm not relapsing!" Sirius shouted, rising to his feet.
Remus shook his head. "Pads. I hear you in there, first thing in the morning, vomiting. You barely eat. You wander around like you're not all the way here. You rush off after meals. You get why I'm concerned, right mate?"
Sirius shrugged, visibly agitated. "What do you want me to say, Moony?"
"I don't know, I don't know. I just... I hate this, I hate watching you do this to yourself!"
Sirius stared for a moment, arms crossed. "Then don't look."
Remus Lupin sat nervously in the waiting room of his assigned therapist, Elaine Kingston. After much cajolement on both Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey's part, Remus had reluctantly scheduled an appointment to see this Kingston person. Hence why he was sitting in a small waiting area in an office building in Hogsmeade, rather than in Potions with his friends.
"Remus?" A female voice asked, garnering Remus' attention.
"Yeah," he replied, glancing briefly up at her.
"I'm ready for you now, if you'd like to join me."
Remaining silent, Remus stood and followed the woman into the conjoining office, taking a seat on the couch she had motioned him to sit at.
"So," Remus said quietly, staring down the woman.
Elaine Kingston was a smart looking brunette in her mid-30's. She was dressed in a cream colored sweater and a pair of tan slacks. She smiled at him, in what Remus assumed was meant to be a calming manner.
"Remus, I'm Elaine Kingston. I'm going to be your therapist. You were referred to me by Madam Pomfrey, as I'm sure you're aware, due to an incident that occurred in September."
"By which you mean I slashed my wrists open," Remus replied, laughing bitterly.
"If that's how you would like to word it, Remus, yes. You were referred to me because of your suicide attempt."
"I don't know why I'm being forced into this tripe. I'm not even the one who's not well," Remus muttered, crossing his arms.
"What do you mean by that?" Elaine question, quill poised above a piece of parchment.
Remus bit his lip; he hadn't realized what he had said aloud. "Erm, nothing. It's nothing."
"Okay. Before we get into the circumstances that brought you here, why don't you tell me a little about yourself."
Remus snorted. "What's there to say? You already know why I'm here. What I am is what has brought me here."
Elaine stared ahead, unaffected by his outburst. "If you don't feel comfortable talking about yourself, then why don't you tell me why you think you're here."
"Are you kidding me? Why I think I'm here? We both know bloody well why I'm here. I'm here because I tried to kill myself. Because I'm a werewolf. A bloody damn suicidal werewolf," Remus screeched, beginning to feel enraged.
This is bullshit, compete and utter bullshit, he thought bitterly to himself, gnawing at his lower lip.
"Why, exactly did you want to kill yourself Remus?" Elaine asked, her quill still in hand.
"I- I just... I'm not even the one who should be here. I'm not the one who's fucked up in the head."
"Remus, you said that when you first arrived. To whom are you referring?"
Remus paused, considering. "My mate from school. He's the one who's sick, and no one is forcing him into some bullshit therapy."
"You think your friend isn't well?"
Remus rolled his eyes. "I bloody know he's not well. I don't exactly think it's healthy or normal to be throwing up everything one eats, do you?" he scoffed, kicking the desk before him, slightly.
"I think that you're angry at your friend," Elaine said evenly, taking notes on the parchment before her.
"I'm not angry, what makes you say that?" Remus asked, taken aback by her accusation.
"Your tone, your facial expressions when you said that, they all allude to anger."
"I'm not angry. He just worries me, is all."
Elaine stared at him for a moment. "You were turned at age six, correct?"
Remus nodded.
"Would you say that you had been suicidal for a while, leading up to your attempt?"
Remus stared at the floor, silent.
"Remus?" Elaine asked gently.
"No... It was just. I found out that all the effort I've put forth, all the time and the studying has been moot... I'm not going to get a job once I leave school. I have to register with the Ministry and... My kind is looked down upon. So, having to face that, on top of the fact that I'm never going to find someone who will want to be with me, given my condition, it just felt like... Fuck. What does anything matter, why am I still alive?"
Silence again, save for Elaine scribbling the quill against parchment.
"Do you still feel that way?"
"Yes."
Elaine asked him another question, but Remus was too distracted to respond. He stared despondently at the rug, arms crossed against his chest.
"Remus?"
"Hmm?" he replied, still staring at the rug.
"I'm afraid our time is up. I'll see you again, this time next week?"
Remus looked up, shaking his head. "No. I missed class for this."
"Would another time suit you better?"
"I suppose. I have a free period Wednesdays at two."
"I'll schedule you for Wednesday at two, then. Take care of yourself, Remus."
Remus nodded and stood, exiting the woman's office. He walked through Hogsmeade, deep in thought. Could she be right? He thought, again biting his lip. Am I angry at Sirius?
He returned to the castle, heading across the grounds to the greenhouses, for Herbology. There, he found James and Peter, looking rather distraught.
"What's the matter?" Remus asked, beginning to feel anxious. Did they find out I'm in therapy? he wondered, nervously biting his lip. Are they judging me? Remus glanced about Greenhouse 3, where their lessons were taking place this day. Suddenly, it dawned on him that a member of their party was missing. "Where's Sirius?"
Peter glanced at James nervously, running his hands through his dirty blond hair.
"What happened Prongs?" Remus demanded, turning to the black haired boy.
"Erm... Sirius passed out in class. Down in potions. So he's um... up in the hospital wing," James muttered, looking utterly distraught.
"Why are you even here, then? Why the fuck is he alone?" Remus shouted, angrily.
He stared at James, taking in his pallid complexion. He looked as though he were ill. "Don't you think I'd bloody well be there if I was allowed to? Pomfrey kicked us out," James hissed, glaring at his friend.
"Oh. Fuck," Remus muttered, squeezing his eyes shut.
"We're going to go post up at the Hospital Wing as soon as this class is over, right James?" Peter said quietly, nudging James.
"Yeah," he agreed.
Remus nodded, silently cursing his decision to bother showing up for this damn class, anyway. He glanced at his wrist, checking the time. Just another forty minutes, he thought miserably. Let's get the hell on with it.
