To Stitches: I thought you might enjoy the Lily and Regulus parts the most, you always say Regulus is your favorite and you were particularly anxious for Lily's growth so I wrote that scene really hoping you'd get a kick out of it!
It's just one bad thing after another with James, Sirius, and Remus, they haven't gotten as much of a chance as the others to relax and start letting themselves really get much change, but don't worry, it's coming along for everyone eventually, trust me!
HPHPHPHP
Peter had never actually been to St. Mungo's, but he had a fair idea that's where he was. He'd at least heard of the place, when last year some bloke got the Mumblemumps and Madam Pomfrey hadn't been able to fix that and he'd supposedly come here for treatment, and the Marauders hadn't even done it. At least, he hoped this was where Arthur Weasley, and subsequently Harry, would be headed, better here than a morgue.
There was nobody else around him though, and he sat up in concern when he realized he was the only one in this particular room. The ward was small and rather dingy, as the only window was narrow and set high in the wall facing the door. Most of the light came from shining crystal bubbles clustered in the middle of the ceiling. The walls were of panelled oak and there was a portrait of a rather vicious-looking wizard on the wall, captioned: Urquhart Rackharrow, 1612—1697, Inventor of the Entrail-expelling Curse.
There were only three beds, and he'd landed in the farthest from the door. The cards he'd been holding were scattered pell-mell, only the ace of spades left clinging to his hand. The book wasn't in sight either, but he had no urge to summon it to him, instead his mind was still on Padfoot and those bites of his. While they were here, they should look around for some mixture of powdered silver and dittany. It wasn't a true werewolf cure, there was still no such thing even in Harry's time he was sure, but it helped ease the bites' pain level and helped minimize scarring, so surely it would do him some good.
He hopped off the bed, grumbling just a bit they couldn't have landed in here when they all needed sleep as there were plenty of beds to go around in a hospital, but stopped in surprise to see exactly what he was looking for on the bed table across from the one he'd been in. He twitched in unease, wondering if he was being paranoid or this mess was actually just trying to be kind to him for once. He pocketed it regardless and went for the door that thunked against something and instantly shut back on him.
Now he really knew he wasn't paranoid. No one else was in here, surely he should be able to leave and at least travel the hospital! He tried again, slower this time, and it once again thunked against something, leaving the barest crack. He grumbled in distaste, debated calling for help, but finally decided to risk it and changed forms to worm through.
Remus was on the other side having a panic attack. He didn't even seem to realize a door had slammed into his back twice, nor Peter appearing out of thin air beside him. One hand was fisted into his new shirt, right over his shoulder, the other was spasming open and closed as he kept gasping for air.
"Moony! Remus, mate, what," Peter crouched down beside him, trying to grab his hands and get his attention, but he just shied away from him still rasping for air. Peter looked wildly around for the danger instead, but still saw nothing, the corridor was completely empty. There were five more doors in sight, not counting the one he'd come from, but they were all still closed with little plaques beneath them. The one right across from him read:
Creature-Induced Injuries
Dai Llewellyn Ward
Stings
Underneath this was a card in a brass holder on which had been handwritten: Healer-in Charge: Hippocrates Smethwyck. Trainee Healer: Augustus Pye
The bottle of powdered silver and dittany seemed to burn in his pocket, as he turned his head slowly and read the one for the room he'd just left instead.
Creature-Induced Injuries
(Dangerous)
Dai Llewellyn Ward
Serious Bites
"Oh," Peter almost wished he didn't understand as he wrapped an arm around him instead, half his mind trying to draw him back into the crowd of laughing students to keep this kind of attention off of him, but this had long since happened. He wished Sirius were here for him instead, to make one of his stupid jokes readily available on that sign, he didn't see how he'd do much good with what Remus was dealing with. This is probably where Remus first woke up, after he'd been bitten.
He didn't want to imagine how the healers would have treated him, probably barely looking him in the eye. He could all too easily picture Remus at five, crying in pain and not able to understand where his dad was or why his mum wasn't allowed in to see him as his newly bitten shoulder burned.
"Come on mate," he muttered, changing to hold him under the arms. Remus was much taller than him, but on the lanky side, he should at least be able to get him to the bathroom and away from that particular door. The clothes James had picked out didn't fit him quite right, the shirt too loose around the shoulders, the pants a bit too tight he was sure as they exposed several inches past his filched boots from Arthur himself, and they left his skin far more exposed than his school robes. While Peter jostled him along, you could almost see the very first savage mark glinting on his shoulder.
Remus was practically dead weight in his arms, but his breathing was already starting to even out when Peter released him and he sunk to the floor again in the bathroom at the end of the hall.
"Don't tell Sirius," he whispered, curling onto his side, pressing his wet face against the cool tiles. He was still clutching it. "Or James. Please."
His voice was so pitiful at the end, Peter would have promised him anything. He wasn't even sure what Remus had to be so ashamed of, he was pretty sure he couldn't go back into the Shrieking Shack without having a panic attack himself at remembering all the crimes he'd done to James being laid out in there. He cast his eyes up when he finally heard the book in Regulus's voice, the chapter title confirming this location, but decided to sink to the floor and just sit quietly with him for now.
Remus listened in the smallest part of his mind as if he had transformed to what was going on, but the mention of a werewolf being in there with Arthur only caused him to wince and curl up tighter as he absently wondered at the difference only thirty plus years in advancement had done.
He'd been isolated from everyone the first month he'd been bitten, his own parents had been refused entrance and they'd strapped a muzzle to his face while holding him to the bed so as not to contaminate anything else. At least that poor man didn't seem to be going through that. He shivered into the cool tile and hoped that Regulus hurried up getting him out of here before anyone else found him unable to get over something so long into his past. Maybe they'd been right to keep him away from everyone though, even now. Merlin, what he'd almost done, again...
Lily first realized she'd lost her deck of cards. The hand she'd been holding was at every corner of this place, and likely they'd left the majority of the deck on the table. She sighed and took the time to peek into every door on the second floor, Magical Bugs, but all she got for her efforts was accosted by paintings, one particularly determined one following her through the whole floor convinced she had spattergroit. She had no idea how huge this hospital was, but when she came across a stairwell, she decided to go straight down to the bottom and work her way up. Then she heard the book start anyways and no screams of danger came from anywhere, so she simply sat half-way down instead and let herself have some time to think.
Regulus found himself in some sort of gift shop. He had no idea why someone would want a commemorative tea set of this place, but he repaired the one he'd landed on anyways, and then decided to make a pot while he waited for anyone else to show up. Amongst the stuffed dragons, teddy bears, jewelry, a few scattered cards that must have come with him, and blankets, there was a large section of novels to choose from, including several Gilderoy Lockhart covers, a few romance novels with half-naked blokes on the front that were making out wildly with slinky-topped women, and several kids' books including the Tales of Beedle the Bard. He'd smiled and brushed his fingers over that one, wondering if he should offer it to Evans, or would that be insulting? He didn't want to imply she should know them like any wizard. The book he'd actually been looking for caught his eye anyway as the teapot whistled.
When he was steeping his drink and still no one arrived, he simply flipped it open and decided to read. Maybe everyone just wanted a bit of alone time after being so cramped together for so long, he certainly got himself comfortable and tried to enjoy this as much as he could while worrying about Arthur's survival. Sirius was clearly okay, and Potter obviously didn't want him around intruding regardless, and he definitely enjoyed his quiet respite from anyone else for now as he sorted his own thoughts out while reading.
James went crashing headlong into a desk, and only as he sat up rubbing his head, did a plastic floor guide choose to lose its balance and crack down on him next. He scowled and gave the stupid thing a kick across the room as he stood up and stretched to have a new look around. He was in the lobby of, somewhere, there were chairs all around him and the desk was definitely for some kind of receptionist, but soon the book was in full swing and he shifted uneasily at finding himself alone in a hospital.
His mind first flickered to Remus with worry, he hated being in the Hospital Wing alone for hours at a time and he wanted to go find him. Not to mention he absolutely needed to keep an eye on Padfoot for now, he couldn't get all that blood off his mind no matter how hard he'd scrubbed at the palm of his skin, but where to start looking?
There were some double doors behind the desk on the ground floor, and a stairwell to his right, but after glancing back at the now upside-down floor plan that really gave no hints where the others could be, he went through the double doors first.
He found Padfoot in a predicament, and had to bite his lip from laughing. He'd landed by a very odd contraption, it was mostly a solid white box on wheels almost the size of Hagrid, but had a dozen tubes coming out of it, all differently colored, and at least three were going after the unsanitary pooch in the middle of this place. A green one was making a suctioning noise right over his tail, the blue one was trying to trail along his jowls and collect any spittle that flew free, and the gold one was sweeping frantically around his feet trying to collect the hair he kept shaking loose as he scrambled madly in place trying to bite away all three at once.
He must not have been as quiet as he thought, as those too intelligent gray eyes landed on him, and he gave a solid bark at James. It was years of experience dealing with Sirius in general that translated this to, 'this is all your fault! I could have been rid of this if it wasn't for your stupid, paranoid arse not letting me change back!'
Now laughing freely, he moved forward and gave the machine a gentle push away from him. It came rolling right back, but Padfoot took the distraction to try sprinting off.
His back leg wobbled, and he instead slid ungracefully beneath a bed, James now holding the machine in place as it kept trying to go after him.
"I don't know the spell to make it stop," he got out in between more snickers, that were slowly subsiding as he crawled out of the bed and gave himself a gentle shake. "So you'd best just go through the doors there, hopefully it won't follow."
Padfoot limped heavily at first, but got a semi-decent stride by the time he was at the double doors. He however was still not coordinated enough to push them open and slip through without them closing back on him, wobbling too much in place on his left side.
Pretending he noticed no such thing, he shot a spell at the nearest bed and transfigured the folded nightgown into a duck. It squawked in alarm and took off, the machine now trundling after the feathers instead. He went over to the doors and casually pushed them open harder than was necessary so that they swung too wide and likely would have hit someone, but by the time they got back into the lobby Padfoot was panting and curling up under a chair on purpose.
"Sorry Sirius," he whispered, leaning his back against the chair and sitting down on the floor with him, but just a smidge farther away than was necessary to at least let him pretend he was preserving his pride. Padfoot apparently wasn't going to care for such a thing now, wiggling so that his head was back on James's lap, and the cool metal of the chair legs was pressed into his wounds. James wrapped an arm around his chest, hand placed over his heart once more.
Alice and Frank did find themselves in a locked ward, and it was creepy. Surely a hospital room with multiple patients shouldn't have such, private touches about? At least the cards scattered all over they knew were theirs, the Jack of Spades resting on a signed photo of Gilderoy Lockhart would have been odd otherwise. They spent a decent chunk of time trying to get the doors open, using Alohomora and then shouting for anyone to hear them, maybe something was blocking the other side? But by then the book had confirmed Arthur Weasley was alive and they were coming up here to visit him, and the two just shivered and decided there was nothing for it for now, at least nothing in here was trying to kill them. Maybe this was where Arthur was? But then, where were the others?
Someone at that end must be a Lockhart fan, the place was peppered with pictures of him in a revolting reminder neither of them wanted. Probably a little kid though, Frank deduced as he spotted some joint-up handwriting that definitely needed more practice. At the opposite end was a flowery curtain that was drawn around more beds, and Alice was trying to peek around before she reminded herself there'd be no one in there to insult for looking, but still feeling a little guilty as she pushed it back.
There were two beds very close together, and she imagined fondly for a moment an old married couple in here for something minor and being visited by loads of grandchildren. There were Drooble's Best Blowing Gums stacked neatly on the table closest to her, but she didn't feel right nicking a few even though she'd run out ages ago from her stash back in Honeydukes.
Then she caught sight of the other side of the bed, and frowned in confusion, leaning closer to get a look at the moving pictures. She'd swear she should vagully recognize them for some reason, especially the much older woman cradling a crying, blond, infant.
"Frank," she called out to him, he was still snooping about the other beds, one of which was covered in brown animal hair for some unbeknownst reason. "Would you come here darling, there's pictures here, I swear I've seen some of them before."
The memory just wouldn't come to her, though now she was looking at him and back, and a cold dread started up her spine. They'd been in the attic, her and Frank, and these had been in a box in his house-
Frank froze and looked at the ceiling, all traces of anything else forgotten as the chapter reached its conclusion, and Mad-Eye Moody all but confirmed You-Know-Who was possessing Harry.
HPHPHPHP
Not going to lie, I intensely debated over the fact if I wanted all of the other Spell Damage Ward people in there with Frank and Alice. Not the older versions of them, but the others. It would have been a great shocking impact and fascinating for them to interact with them like they never would. I decided though it didn't feel ethically right, we're never given a clue how much mental capacity they have exactly and it would feel insulting to put them on the level of animals when each of them does show some response to human contact.