trigger warning

Chapter Thirty-Four: I Find that Incredibly Hard to Believe

Professor McGonagall pressed her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. It was so much worse than she could possibly have imagined. She felt the guilt wash over her. How could she not have noticed? She had failed Remus. And that was the worst part.

Remus pulled his sleeve back down, over his hand. He wasn't crying anymore, he was just sitting there. He thought, a little bit, but for the most part it was just quiet. His secret was out there.

Madam Pomfrey turned to Dumbledore and McGonagall, talking in a low voice. "I'm going to take him to the hospital wing," she said. "I'll call St. Mungo's after and talks about a licensed professional."

"Can you keep him, at least for the time being, in the hospital wing?" asked Professor McGonagall. "In one of the private rooms? He needs to be under constant surveillance, if he is, as Mr. Black said, suicidal."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "And we can figure something out for a more long-term solution."

Professor Dumbledore nodded slowly, just listening to the conversation. He felt as though he had aged 50 years in the past 5 minutes. Maybe even more. He had failed as Headmaster. He had failed Remus.

Remus tried to listen, but he couldn't quite make it out. He knew they were talking about him, though, trying to figure out what they were going to do. The easiest solution would be to do nothing. To let Remus walk out the door alone. And then everything would be taken care of.

Madam Pomfrey stood up. "Mr. Lupin," she said, "if you could please come to the hospital wing with me?"

Remus sat for a moment, then slowly stood up. He followed her towards the door. Sirius jumped to his feet to go with them, but Professor McGonagall's strict voice stopped him.

"No, Mr. Black. You and Ms. Evans are to return to the common room. You will not visit Mr. Lupin until you are given explicit permission."

"Please, Professor," said Sirius. "I just need to know that he's ok."

Her face softened. "I know," she said. "We all do. I will keep you as updated as I can."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she shook her head. "Fine," he said.

He and Lily slowly left the office, an aura of disbelief still hanging over them all. Remus's words still echoed in Sirius's head and in his heart. It hurt so badly.

"I hate you," he could hear Remus whisper. He could hear the anger, the bitterness in his voice. He could see the defeat in his eyes. He could sense all of the emotions, all of the pain that Remus was dealing with. He just wanted him to be ok.

The office door swung closed behind the two students. Dumbledore put his head in his hands. "How, Minerva?" he asked quietly. "How could we have missed it?"

She shook her head sadly. "He hid it so well. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to find out."

"Do you think he told Mr. Black?"

"No, he wouldn't have. I would guess that Mr. Black stumbled upon him when he was unprepared."

"And Ms. Evans?"

"Something similar. Or she may have guessed. You know how she is."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. It didn't matter, really. What mattered now was making sure that they got Remus the help that he needed. That they made sure he was ok. Because he needed to be ok. Neither of them would be able to live with themselves if he wasn't.

Madam Pomfrey closed the door behind Remus and motioned for him to have a seat. He declined. She sighed and shrugged.

"I think you know this, Mr. Lupin, but I need your wand," she said, holding out her hand.

He glared at her, but pulled it out of his robe and set it in her hand. He watched, annoyed, as she slipped it into her own robe.

"Could I please see your arm, Mr. Lupin?" she asked.

Remus held up his right arm. She gave him a look. "Your other arm, Mr. Lupin."

He sighed and held it out. He watched as she gently pushed his sleeve up and took in the full damage to his arm. Her eyes were a little bit watery. She looked so incredibly sad.

The truth was, she had failed. She had failed as a nurse, as a staff member. She had failed herself, and she had failed Remus. She had been taking care of him once a month for the past 5 years. Judging by the number and appearance of the scars, she knew this had to have been going on for at least a year. Possibly longer.

How could she have not noticed? She knew that there was no conceivable way that a first or second year could do a glamour charm. Maybe a third year, but it was unlikely. She cringed at the thought of little, shy, 11-year-old Remus sitting alone in the bathroom, slicing his wrist open and watching the blood well up.

She ran her wand lightly over the cuts, watching the skin stitch itself back together. "I can get you a scar removal cream," she said.

Remus shook his head quickly. "I don't want it," he murmured.

Madam Pomfrey shrugged. That was odd, but she wouldn't question it. And she certainly wouldn't force it. She slipped her wand back into her robe and gently tugged Remus's sleeve back down.

"Now," she said, "would you please give me your blade, or whatever implement you have?"

"I- I don't have anything," Remus whispered. "Not on me."

"I find that incredibly hard to believe, Mr. Lupin," she said drily. "Please? I don't want to fight you on this."

He shook his head, still standing his ground. She sighed and pulled out her wand. "Accio blade."

Remus let out a small, indignant outburst. His blade came out of his pocket and went straight to Madam Pomfrey's hand. She pocketed it, and his eyes followed the movement of her hands.

"Don't even think about it," she said, as if she could read his mind.

It was probably written all over his face. He needed it. He needed it so fucking badly. He would give anything to be alone right now, to have a blade, to be able to just end it all. But he couldn't.

"I'm going to call St. Mungo's," said Madam Pomfrey.

Remus's heart fell. He didn't want a therapist or anything. He wouldn't talk. He wouldn't. That did mean, though, that he was presumably going to be alone in the room. He glanced around, trying to see if there was anything he could use. So far, nothing.

Madam Pomfrey left the room, taking his blade and his wand with her. He watched the door swing closed and heard it lock. He sighed, running his hands through his hair. Fuck.

A/N:

i'm in my room. i'm exhausted, physically and mentally and emotionally. i'm trying to make myself do physics. i'm trying to decide whether or not to relapse. it would be so easy, and then i would feel better. i want to so badly. i'm crying. i'm trying to decide whether or not to take the bunch of advil that i have in my bathroom. it's right there. it's sitting on my bathroom counter. i have 2 beers. i've got school in 7 hours, and you aren't supposed to mix advil and alcohol, but i don't care. maybe i want to. i just want to feel something

ilysm 3

ktf xolyn