Chapter Three:

Thank you for the reviews! Just one quick note- Hedwig's also still alive in this story!

Harry was more awake now, which seemed to be far worse than when he'd been drowsy. He was very much aware of the stinging in his arms and legs as Poppy gently manoeuvred him out of his robes and into a pair of hospital pyjamas. She had raided her store cupboard and found him some co-codamol to try and ease the pain, although it wasn't really helping.

Being raised in the muggle world, Harry had some knowledge of the various methods to treat ailments without magic. He hadn't been a particular fan of hospitals before coming to Hogwarts, and after spending seven years being patched up regularly, he was even less of a fan now. Usually, Pomfrey was able to spell something into his system fairly quickly to quell a headache or heal a fracture and he'd be on his way. But now, he was stuck lying against the pillows, unable to move without feeling every muscle aching and his head throbbing. As agonising as the scan had been, it was almost preferable to the cold stethoscope being run over his chest and Pomfrey endlessly checking his pulse. He'd been pushed and pulled up into a position on the pillows which seemed to be marginally less painful than lying on his back. Despite having three blankets, he was still cold. He'd told Poppy, who'd informed him that it was due to his lack of body fat. He just hadn't felt like eating since coming back to Hogwarts.

Lupin had helped him get something down earlier, although he'd eaten less than Poppy would have liked, by far. At least he'd known the hospital wing. This room looked completely different, and it disoriented him.

'Ron and Hermione wanted to know how you are,' Remus said, coming into the room with a smile for Harry. 'I wasn't sure what you'd want them to know, so I said you're in here and Madame Pomfrey's looking after you. It's up to you when and what you tell them. They're your friends.'

'Thanks, Remus,' Harry said, gratefully. He was glad, at times, that Madame Pomfrey was quite territorial over the hospital wing, and wouldn't have let his friends in. He didn't want them, or indeed, any of his peers, to see him like this. 'If you see them at dinner, can you ask them to make sure Hedwig's got something to eat?'

Remus exchanged a glance with Pomfrey, who had an electronic thermometer in Harry's ear. 'It's long past dinner, Harry. It's about 10pm. You were asleep quite a while.'

'Oh.'

'You're relatively stable, so I'm happy to let you sleep through the night.' Pomfrey said, as he squirmed under her hand on his forehead. 'Remus has insisted on staying with you.'

Lupin nodded, giving Harry another smile. 'Poppy's chairs are very good. I'll be more than comfortable.'

Despite only being awake for forty-five minutes, Harry couldn't wait to get back to sleep. He yawned, which Madame Pomfrey took as her signal to leave the little room, after giving him a final dose of painkillers. Remus dimmed the little electric lamp next to the bed, as Harry settled down under the quilts. His eyelids felt heavy.

Pulling out a stack of essays, Remus located his quill and began to mark his third-year's latest work. Just as Harry had done in his third year, they'd been studying bogarts. He enjoyed teaching at Hogwarts. Tonks and Teddy were living in a small cottage in Hogsmeade, with Remus visiting his wife and son in the evenings and on weekends. It was the happiest he'd felt in years. He'd hoped Harry and the other Order members at Hogwarts would visit some evenings. With Sirius and James gone, he badly wanted Harry to see him as another godparent, someone to trust. He looked down at the young man. He should have detected the glamour charm. He had failed that trust before it could even really begin.

About thirty minutes later, he'd only marked three of the essays. Staring out of the small window at the dark night, he couldn't stop feeling a sense of guilt about Harry. Remus sighed, reaching for the small flask of cocoa he'd prepared in his office earlier. He would try and sleep, he decided, if Harry seemed to be stable. He was teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts for the eighth, seventh, second and third years, with Snape covering the rest. Slughorn was teaching half of potions, having agreed to delay his second retirement. This arrangement suited all 3 professors well; Lupin was able to take time out each month, and also was able to spend time with his family; Snape taught both subjects he excelled in; Slughorn was able to ramble the woods searching for ingredients.

Five essays were marked by the time 22:45 appeared on the clock. Lupin was pleased with the progress the class seemed to have made, particularly given the disruption at Hogwarts over the past few years. He glanced down at Harry, and frowned. He had slept fitfully for the past hour, but now seemed to be more restless than before. He called out for Sirius a few times, his face contorting with frustration and pain.

'Harry?' Remus called out, softly, putting his marking down. Harry whined, turning away. 'Harry?'

He noticed Harry's breathing becoming more ragged, and he seemed more distressed. Remus' stomach turned. Quickly, he jumped up, and left the room, running to the office to call for the mediwitch. He couldn't risk traces of magic injuring Harry. 'Poppy,' he called, jumping out of her floo. She was reading in an armchair next to the hearth, and screamed when he climbed from the fireplace. 'Sorry. Sorry. I need you. It's Harry, he's breathless.'

'Coming.' Poppy waved her wand, quickly transforming her nightclothes into her medical uniform. 'Quickly, Remus.'

He didn't need to be told twice. Within a minute, they were back next to Harry. Pomfrey was using her stethoscope again, which had woken him up. He seemed confused. 'What's going on?' Harry mumbled. He tried to pull his pyjama top across his chest and avoid her, but she was firm. He felt shaky; heart thudding. What had he been dreaming about?

Without needing to really think, he knew. He couldn't make eye contact with Remus. Just thinking about Sirius again set him off. Panic began to run through him, and he couldn't fight it off. He heard the voices of Poppy and Remus trying to calm him down, but he blocked them out. He didn't feel safe in that room. It was too small. He couldn't see what was behind him, what was behind the door. He needed to get out of there.

With a cry, he tried to get from under the blankets and away from them all. He wasn't sure where he was going, or even how he'd get there. All that he knew was that he wanted out of there.

Remus was stunned at the sudden, intense movement of the patient. Harry managed to get his legs over the side of the bed before he could be stopped. He tried to stand on them, but crashed to the floor, yelling out as he landed on the flagstones next to the bed. In an instant, Poppy was there, checking him over. 'Don't move him!' she yelped at Remus, 'Harry? Harry?'

Why wouldn't she let him be? Harry groaned, tipping his head back as far as it could go in a show of agitation. He whined, hating the feeling of the cold floor seeping into his body. His stomach suddenly turned, and he startled himself with how suddenly he brought up its contents. Why couldn't he stop shaking? Why was his body doing this to him? What was happening? In a matter of weeks, he'd gone from killing the Dark Lord to being unable to control his basic bodily functions.

Unbeknown to him, Poppy had dashed out to call for Severus. Remus pulled a pillow down from the bed to put under Harry's head. As it was moved, Harry realised he was crying uncontrollably. 'Remus. Stop. Leave me.'

It was almost physically painful for Lupin to hear Harry's words, and he forced himself to ignore them, pulling a blanket down to cover him. 'You're alright, Harry. You've had a nightmare. It's all going to be alright.'

Suddenly, Harry's hand shot out, and he gripped onto Lupin's sleeve. 'Please,' he gasped. 'Help me, Remus.'

Snape was standing in the doorway, and by the time Harry tilted his head up and opened his eyes, he wasn't entirely sure how long the Slytherin professor had been watching him. Remus had removed his soiled pyjama top carefully, and had covered his torso with a towel. It was so much harder without spells to help assist him and keep Harry's dignity. Severus wasn't sure whether or not he should intervene. He was still undecided as to whether or not Potter trusted him.

Poppy was drawing some syringes up from the vials of muggle medicine that Severus had brought with him. 'Anti-emetics,' she informed Lupin, who was watching her sharply. His lycanthropy meant that he had a deeply-set fear of drugs. 'As well as some diazepam. They'll calm him down and stop him being sick. If we want him to have a shot at gaining weight and getting stronger, then he's got to keep what he does eat in his stomach.' Poppy explained. 'Harry? I'm going to give you some injections, now, dear. It'll be a sharp scratch but it won't last long.

'No,' Harry tried to protest, but Poppy quickly got one needle into his arm before he could stop her. She grabbed the others, as Lupin held Harry still. It didn't take much effort, given how weak he was, but Remus still felt shit doing it.

A few minutes later, the diazepam was working, and Harry was visibly more relaxed and less distressed. He allowed Lupin, with Poppy's help, to lift him back onto the bed, where he settled more easily under the blankets. Lupin felt relief and exhaustion in equal measures, as he sat back down on the armchair. Harry's eyes flickered briefly, and then closed as he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.