Author's Note

Please forgive any spelling and/or grammar errors. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think!

PS I'm not J. K. Rowling, so I don't own anything :(

Chapter 12: Wounded

March 1997

Hermione didn't hear anything else. A muted buzzing filled her ears, invading her senses and clogging her mind. Then she was up and darting past Bill, even shoving him a bit in her haste to get outside and to the Apparation point as quickly as possible.

Remus...

Hurry, hurry hurry! The chorus repeated through her head, and right on its heels was a chant of no, no, no!

Bill followed her, and as she turned on the spot, she heard him behind her pausing only long enough to warn Fleur he was leaving. Hermione fumbled with the front door of the cabin she shared with Remus, relieved she didn't have to waste time dismantling her wards since whomever had gotten there before her had already done so, then not bothered to put them back up.

The first thing she saw was Fred carrying an armload of bloody towels. The pale grey stained with bright crimson until they were hardly recognizable as the ones she'd only recently purchased when they'd redecorated the bathroom just after Christmas. Tiny drops of deep red fell to the floor when Fred paused to stare at her. His stricken expression hammered into her, a series of blows each landing in time with the clicking droplets.

Hermione blanched, but raced forward anyways. She hurled herself into her and Remus's bedroom, only barely managing to compose her face when she saw Remus. Kingsley and Sirius were both inside the room already working on him. From her position, she couldn't see the extent of the damage, but the scent of copper and something more rancid and acidic was thick in the air. Worse yet were the whimpers, strained grunts, and wet, raspy breaths.

As she crept forward, Sirius caught sight of her, and simply said, "Greyback."

The single name was enough of an explanation. At least for the time being. She longed to demand a better explanation, but that could wait. Better not to distract the men while they worked on Remus. He was more important than answers. Infinitely more precious to her.

Kingsley glanced up and added, "Tonks and George went after him, so don't go looking for revenge."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, she'd never been the type to seek payback, but then Sirius grunted. Oh. It had been meant as a deterrent for the other man.

Hermione was closer now, and able to see what had happened. It looked like Greyback had sliced his middle clean through, and now his insides were threatening to spill out. His skin had parted to reveal the pinkish tissue of the underlying muscle, blood-slick and gleaming. Kingsley and Sirius were on either side both frantically trying to seal the wound, but neither seemed to be having any luck. Not when Greyback was so in tune with his werewolf side. The wounds were cursed. Dark magic. It would take a specific skill set to heal the great gashes.

Kingsley's hand slipped in the blood, and Hermione caught sight of something smooth and tube-like. Intestines. Remus's small intestines were peeking out of the deepest wound. His insides were spilling out.

She was afraid to move any closer lest she get in the way. Healing magic was not her specialty, and even as she stood there, the two men tried all of the spells she would have thought to try. Dittany by itself was useless against cursed wounds - not that she had any on-hand to try at any rate. She'd prepared some for the school a few weeks earlier, but Severus had already come to -

"Get Severus," Hermione said hoarsely, turning to Bill who'd come in behind her. The memory of him collecting the school potions she always prepared providing her with an idea. "Tell him I need him, and to bring supplies to treat a werewolf injury."

"You really think he'll come?" Bill ventured, frowning as he took in Remus's bloody and pale state. It was impossible to tell if he was still breathing or not. His pained sounds from even a few seconds ago had died off entirely.

Sirius jerked up, gaping at her before sneering, "Him? Don't bother -"

"Hurry," she ordered, interrupting Sirius. "Use the Floo and go directly to his office. It's not yet lunch so he'll still be teaching and the network is already connected," Hermione commanded impatiently, needing him to already be gone. Needing him to already be helping save the man she loved. If she could go herself, she would, but she couldn't.

Severus would be with his second years if she remembered correctly. They'd not put up a fuss over being dismissed early, nor was it gossip that would likely reach any of the sixth years. His leaving shouldn't disturb what she remembered from her time at Hogwarts.

Bill spun around and left without another word. The next person to appear in the doorway was Fred. He had fresh towels. Hermione took them from him mindlessly and hastily moved to stand beside Sirius, leaning forward to apply pressure to the wound. They just needed to wait a few more minutes.

Just a few more minutes.

Remus just needed to hold on long enough for Severus to come. Severus knew more about healing than anyone she knew aside from Madam Pomfrey. He'd be able to help. He had to. She couldn't lose Remus. Not yet. She wasn't ready. It was too soon.

"He won't come," Sirius warned.

"He will," Hermione gasped, forcing the words past the fear strangling her. She swallowed compulsively, willing the lump in her throat to disperse.

"He'd rather see Moony dead than help," Sirius disagreed bitterly, his expression a ghost of the deranged look he'd worn in the Shrieking Shack when he'd confronted Wormtail. "It'll be a dream come true for him. A second chance after he failed with me last spring."

Hermione didn't bother arguing. It was too difficult to think just then, let alone rehash the same argument for the dozenth time.

"Potions. Basement," Hermione stated, unable to explain more fully. Temporary stopgaps. She knew she had at least that much onhand.

"I'll get them," Fred volunteered, then dashed off.

There were dark patches already spreading across Remus's jaw and temple like spilled red and purple ink. More splashes mottled his chest, tracing along his ribs so that they stood out starkly against his ivory flesh, and probably his thighs too, though those were still covered by his faded navy trousers, now more of a dusty-blue. His bottom lip was busted at the corner, and puffy like he'd been stung by a bee.

She pressed harder as she surveyed the damage, cataloging each scrape, bruise, and gash. Blood gushed over her arms as she did, welling up and coating her like a grisly pair of warm gloves.

The wait was agonizing. Kingsley and Sirius both kept trying the spells they knew. Though they didn't work any better now than they had the first few times. Probably, they'd been trying them since Remus first got to them before Hermione had even arrived. Then Fred was there with Blood Replenishing Potions, and he poured one after another down Remus's unprotesting throat. Except that merely meant he had even more blood to spill from the three parallel slashes that left his gut gaping open.

Blood was everywhere. It continued to spill out between her fingers in deep crimson rivlets. The vibrant color bloomed in huge splotches across the towels before the stain seeped over the blankets to drip steadily onto the floor. Hermione pressed harder, willing the precious fluid to remain within Remus's body, but it did nothing to help.

Just a few more minutes. That's all they needed.

Fred was back again, this time to hand her new towels and accept the soiled ones. The sodden mess brushed over her as he moved, leaving a diagonal trail of sticky warmth across her chest. Hermione hardly noticed, except that it cooled quickly, leaving her colder than the presence of a Dementor could.

Remus looked cold too. A hint of bluish purple had crept up to trace the edges of his lips. Too much blood loss, her brain supplied the reason absently. He needed every bit of the warmth, though she knew he didn't actually notice the cold as acutely as others did. Part of being a werewolf meant having a faster metabolism. Some of his thinner, worn out robes were actually a blessing that kept him from overheating on the rare day it was hot outside.

Severus would be there soon. Remus just had to hang on a little longer.

His pulse had slowed. Less blood escaped the dam of towels she'd created. Fred noticed and administered yet another Blood Replenishing Potion.

It felt like ages. Idly, Hermione knew it was likely no more than two or three minutes.

Everything seemed to be happening in a haze. Surreal. Almost as though she was watching the scene unfold from outside her body. Suddenly there was a flurry of movement and she was slammed brutally back into the reality of the moment. Severus had come sweeping into the room with Bill a half step behind, his arms laden with various bottles in a range of sizes and colors.

"Kingsley, show me the extent of the wounds," Severus ordered as Bill dumped the potion vials onto the bed beside her.

Hermione felt more than registered when the dark man eased her hands aside, pulling the towels from her clenched fists. With a critical eye used to sizing up grim situations, Severus surveyed the damage. His entire body tensed preceptibly and he muttered something under his breath.

"Weasley, pour the contents of the blue bottle along the length of the deepest parts," he tersely ordered an instant later, his jaw setting in a grim line.

The obvious alarm radiating from him had her stuttering out his name. "S-S-Severus."

His eyes snapped up to meet hers directly. It was all there on his face. The careful mask of blank neutrality that he always wore was gone now. Like a daring action novel that she'd flipped open to the climax and did not yet know the resolution, she read his worry. His doubt. The hero could still die before the end. His lips parted, but no false reassurance sounded in the abrupt stillness.

He didn't think he'd be able to save Remus. And he wouldn't lie to her or make promises he didn't know if he could keep. That was the thing about Severus - he never lied to her, and never speared her feelings. He respected her too much for that.

The room spun. Black spots bloomed across her vision and the back of her eyes ached horribly as pressure built sudden as an avalanche.

"Black, get her out of here," Severus ordered. When the other man didn't move, loath to leave his injured friend in the hands of his enemy, Severus barked, "Now!"

The command pushed Sirius's already frayed nerves over the edge. He bristled, ready to argue, but Fred grabbed his arm and hers, pulling them both bodily from the room. Sirius gave in, though ungracefully, when he realized Severus was already focused on helping Remus again. Hermione absently heard him instructing Kingsley and Bill on what to do before he began voicing a complex incantation.

"Will you be all right?" Fred asked, glancing from her to the hallway leading into the bedroom.

Hermione didn't recall moving her feet, let alone making her way into another room. She needed to see Remus. To ensure he was still alive. To help Severus save him.

"Hermione!" Fred barked, snapping his fingers before her face.

"What?" she asked, blinking his face into focus as confusion muddied her thoughts. How was she supposed to know anything right then? She hardly even knew where she was. Nothing mattered beyond learning Remus's fate.

"I'm going back in to help them," he explained patiently, speaking far more gently to her than she'd expected him to be capable of.

"Yes, yes, you should do that," she agreed, nodding jerkily. "We need to check on them. I have to -"

"You're staying with me, Granger," Sirius announced wearily. "If he's really going to help we don't want to distract him."

"But…" Hermione tried, though for the first time ever, she was unable to come up with a logical argument. And she doubted they'd accept her saying that she needed to see Remus for herself.

"Sirius?" Fred asked, nodding pointedly at her.

"I'll keep her out here," he muttered. "They probably need more towels. I think she keeps more in the hall closet."

Apparently they were silently indicating that she needed looking after. Did she? Hermione wasn't sure. Though she did know that she didn't appreciate them acting like she couldn't decide or speak for herself.

"Make sure he doesn't try anything," Sirius added darkly as Fred released his hold on her. She swayed, unsteady on her feet without the extra support, and somehow found herself in one of the chairs by the kitchen table. Had Fred helped her get there?

Memories of when Ron had been splinched while they'd been on the run swam before her, murky and distorted. Somehow she'd managed to keep her head then and do what was necessary to help her friend. Why was it so hard for her to do the same now?

No one had ever mentioned Remus getting injured during her sixth year. Had this happened before or had her presence here caused events to change? Was this indirectly her fault? The idea had her stomach twisting into knots that threatened to spill if she dared move a muscle.

"He wouldn't dare in front of witnesses," Fred promised, "not when he knows it will get back to Dumbledore if he did." The latter seemed to reassure Sirius before Fred slipped out of sight, gone in the blink of an eye.

The room was quiet. Hermione felt incapable of speaking or thinking or doing anything productive to help. Her usual coolness under pressure was eluding her. Helpless. She was helpless. Worse, she was useless. If only she had invested in more books on healing! How could she help if she didn't have the necessary knowledge? That should have been the first thing she did once she realized she was trapped in the past and once again in the middle of a war! Oh, why hadn't she thought of that sooner? Hadn't her time with Harry, and his absolute legion of injuries, taught her anything?

Castigating herself wasn't helping. It only made it harder for her to breathe. The knowledge that she didn't even know which books would be helpful if she had access to a library - which she didn't - made the stress of waiting that much more difficult.

"Did you know about this?" Sirius asked, his voice deceptively flat.

Hermione twisted her fingers together, squeezing until the pain cleared the thick sludge dimming and sticking her thoughts. How much time had passed? How long had she been lost in her own head? Surely there'd be news any second!

"No," she muttered, forcing the heavy word out.

Sirius sighed loudly. He was pacing anxiously. Back and forth. Each step an angry stomp, as though he could pound out his own frustration through his feet. With each pass he darted a furtive glance at her from beneath the messy curtains of his dark hair. Checking to see that she was staying put most likely. Or judging her capability. His fists were clenched tight enough to have bleached his skin white as bone, and made the tattoos on the back stand out in contrast that much more. She wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly put the balled hand through one of the walls simply as an outlet for his tightly strung emotions. The pacing certainly didn't seem to be doing much to channel his impotence.

"Will he live?"

She couldn't know for sure. Not if this hadn't happened the first time through. Had it? She desperately wished to believe she'd always been in the past and that it was a loop. If it was, then Remus would live. But she just couldn't say for certain.

He must have read the uncertainty on her face because the speed of his pacing increased in proportion to his agitation and worry.

"What happened?" Hermione finally demanded, her voice little more than a strained croak.

He came to an abrupt stop, turning to face her. He was frowning and looked hesitant to answer. Hermione pinned him with her eyes, refusing to back off or let him off the hook.

"I didn't get much from him before he collapsed," Sirius finally admitted.

"What did he tell you?" she asked, needing to know how things had gotten to the point they were. Knowing was always better than guessing.

"Greyback showed up and challenged him. Remus lost, and only barely made it to the shop," Sirius explained.

She would ordinarily be grateful for the concise relay of events at this moment in time, but considering it was Remus that was hurt, she wanted to know everything now, not later. Especially if it involved the monster Greyback. Just the sound of his name made her shutter with revulsion. Memories of a different sort clawed their way to the forefront of her mind, groping, skittering and slithering like rats in a filthy sewer.

"Fred also said that Greyback had a child with him - that's why Tonks and George went after him instead of coming here to help," Sirius added, though she had not even realized the other two were involved.

Hermione's breath caught. The idea of Greyback getting his disgusting hands on an innocent child was revolting. She could perfectly well imagine what he would do, and the pain he would inflict. After all, he'd told her himself what he liked. She hoped the two were able to catch up with him, though she feared they'd be too late. Possibly Remus had done enough damage before he was injured himself that they'd have some luck. They were certainly due for some.

Another thought struck Hermione. They actually had gotten lucky. The parchment they'd been using. Hermione had told Remus she'd be with Bill all day. If he'd not known and come straight to the cabin rather than the shop, he would have been alone and probably bled out before she returned or anyone had stopped in for a visit to find him.

Oh, Merlin. He could still die though. Because of Greyback. Why wasn't there any word yet?

"Greyback did this," she stated flatly.

"Bloody tosser. Why would he challenge him now?" Sirius asked, shaking his head.

"The packs are starting to turn to Remus for instruction and leadership where they used to follow his lead. It makes sense," Hermione reasoned, falling back on the reliability and comfort of facts and logic.

"I guess..." Sirius capitulated, though he still looked like he thought there was more to the situation.

"Where did Mad-Eye go? He Flooed me earlier, but he's not here now. How is he involved?"

"Tonks sent him a Patronus right before she and George left. He was in Hogsmeade at the time, so he's gone to try and track down Dumbledore. From what he said, I'm betting Dumbledore isn't at the school, but he needs to hear about what happened sooner rather than later," Sirius explained, rubbing a weary hand over his face. Hermione tried unsuccessfully not to focus on the patch of rust-colored dried blood staining the back of it.

Of course. Dumbledore was off searching for Horcruxes. Specifically the locket. If only he'd been at the school and could have been summoned to help. It had only been a couple days since he visited her. Though even Dumbledore relied on Severus for healing when the injury was Dark in nature. Severus had spent far more time -

"He's never been much good at healing, despite years of needing it," Sirius continued, interrupting her thoughts. Confused, Hermione momentarily scrambled to follow Sirius's comment before she realized he was still referring to Mad-Eye and not Albus or Severus. "If you couldn't tell just by looking at the crotchety, old bloke."

Auror training now included several courses on healing magic. She remembered from Harry's training that it was something that hadn't started until after the first war with Voldemort, so it had started after the height of Mad-Eye's career. It must have been difficult for Tonks to decide between trying to save the child and helping Remus. Or maybe not. Tonks adored children, and being an Auror meant protecting people from Dark wizards. Particularly the innocent. Plus there had been others around to help.

"How did you end up here?" she asked, trying to piece all of the events together for a clear picture. It was still a fair bit too jumbled for her liking.

"Tonks sent word to Kingsley, then she and George went after Greyback - I think George had a good idea where to start looking. Fred and I brought Remus here to get your help. We didn't know you were out till we got here, so I Flooed Mad-Eye while we were waiting for Kingsley and he said he'd let you know before informing Albus. Kingsley had only just arrived when you did. Moony was in and out at the shop, talking some, but since we got here..."

And they couldn't go to St. Mungo's. If a Death Eater came while Remus was vulnerable, he would be killed. Plus, because he was a werewolf, and these were werewolf related injuries, there would have been an investigation. They were trying to keep the Ministry, specifically Scrimgeour, out of their business, not invite him to oversee the specifics of their missions.

Severus appeared in the doorway, his face set in its usual grim lines, but as Hermione stood to face him she saw the tension drain out of his shoulders. Though he still looked exhausted, utterly drained from the toll the magic involved in saving Remus must have taken on him.

"How is he?" she dared to ask.

"Barring complications, he will live," he surmised. She readied herself to race past him and see for herself that Remus was alive and on the mend, but Severus held up a hand to forestall her, somehow anticipating her intentions. "He shouldn't be disturbed for the next hour while one of the salves I applied sets in and starts working."

"Are complications likely?" she forced herself to ask.

"They are curse wounds. They will have to heal naturally - to some extent - which will take time. Fortunately, he is already infected, so they should heal. And I have provided as much aid to that process as I possibly could. Though there will be a fair amount of scarring," he began, then shifted, seeming to cast about for the right words. "He is unaccountably lucky that the attack occurred now."

"What do you mean?"

"Any closer to the next full moon and he probably would not have healed enough before the shift was upon him. The physical exertion and toll of changing would probably have killed him," he explained matter-of-factly.

Sirius's earlier confusion and hesitation. This was the time of month that werewolves were at their strongest when human, the farthest point between shifts.

"Greyback probably wanted to show the wolves that he could beat Remus with brute strength. The show of dominance would appeal to the pack mentality," Hermione rationalized. "Justify his leadership."

"Or he wanted time enough to heal himself should Remus manage to best him," Sirius countered. Probably he hoped that Remus had gotten in a few deadly strikes of his own before getting hurt.

"Perhaps. Either guess is as likely as the other without more information," Severus allowed.

"I need to be getting back to the Muggle Prime Minister," Kingsley said, stepping into the room with Fred. "I'll check in on him later, if that is all right?" he requested.

"Yes, of course. Thank you for coming," Hermione agreed, nodding, and the imposing Auror swept out, using his wand to vanish the blood stains from his finely tailored Muggle suit as he went. Hermione realized he must have left his post abruptly to have responded so quickly. Gratitude welled inside her.

"I'm going to check if George and Tonks made it back safely," Fred announced, adding, "Bill's sitting with him, but you should…"

"Go clean yourself up. He doesn't need to wake to such a macabre sight. I need to do a bit more work here anyways before I go," Severus advised bluntly.

"Sev," she breathed, barely able to get even that much out, so great was her relief. He jerked, startled, and his wide eyes scanned her face. "Thank you."

The heartfelt gratitude had him inhaling audibly. That tiny cue worked to burst the dam in Hermione. A surge of emotions came pouring forth, cascading over her. Drowning her in a deluge of jagged sobs. Relief and terror all knotted and tangled up together. Then she was in Severus's arms, hers wound so tightly around him that she would have collapsed without him. Her fingers clutched at his robes, gathering the thick wool into her tight fists as she burrowed into his chest, burying her face. He didn't hug her back - not that she'd ever expect him too, but he squeezed her shoulder, the grip grounding her in the moment.

It was several minutes before she'd composed herself enough to step back. He met her gaze and verified, "He'll live."

It was enough.

For the moment, at least.

Hermione gathered several shaky lungfuls of air, mentally trying to collect her thoughts and calm herself before she saw Remus. She didn't want him to waste energy worrying about her when he needed to focus on himself just then.

Sirius and Severus were staring at each other. Hermione tensed when she noticed the silect interaction, ready to play referee, but Sirius walked past him without saying a single word as he went into the bedroom to check on Remus for himself. It was probably the kindest interaction the pair had ever had.

"I know this must have been hard for you," Hermione murmured unsteadily.

"I did it for you," Severus replied candidly.

"If I lost him...I don't think I could bear it."

"You would endure, Hermione," he stated plainly. "You will."

"What makes you so certain?"

"Because you must. There is no great secret to carrying on when you've lost what matters most. You do what is needed. You are not selfish enough to give in to your own grief when too many are relying on you," he said crisply. "I know because I bore that pain. And if I could, then you most certainly can, for you are far more righteous and noble than I… Possibly more stubborn too."

A broken sound escaped her, half chuckle, half sob. "Don't make me laugh."

"I wasn't joking."

"Severus," she groaned.

"You'll get through this. Loss is part of war - of life."

"Thank you," she repeated, willing him to understand that he'd given her a gift that was priceless. She didn't have to give up Remus, or learn how to go on without him. Not yet at any rate. They didn't keep score, that wasn't the nature of their friendship, but what he'd done in saving Remus for her was a debt that could never be repaid.

The thought of possibly losing Remus had her turning and moving towards the bedroom, needing to see for herself that he was alive and recuperating. Part of her didn't know how she'd stayed away so long already. Shock. It had to be shock. It accounted for the confusion and missing time too.

Severus followed her into the room. She felt his reassuring presence at her back. Possibly it was more menacing and looming than reassuring, but given his recent actions, there was no other she'd rather have nearby.

Sirius had conjured two chairs beside the bed, and had changed into one of Remus's clean shirts. Bill had gone, probably while she'd been talking to Severus or crying. Sirius had a damp cloth and was gently wiping away some of the dried blood from Remus's chest, careful not to disturb the thick green paste that stretched from one side of Remus's abdomen to the other.

Hermione moved to Sirius's side, looking down at the still man lying supine on the bed with a soft blue blanket covering his legs. Parts of him were pale as snow, even more so than he'd been earlier. While others bore the marks of his recent fight and were a vibrant red and purple. Then there were the places covered in green or yellow paste. Altogether, it was the most colorful Hermione had ever seen the man. Years of scars stripped the visible skin, a road map of his life and the events he'd endured.

His chest rose and fell steadily. The sight mesmerized her. Proof that she hadn't lost him. Suddenly she could breathe as well. The pressure that had been pressing on her without her even realizing was gone. Hermione inhaled, it hurt after so long of nothing more than shallow breaths that were hardly more than a mouthful.

Hermione took Remus's cool hand and reached to brush a lock of greying hair back off his face. She relished the contact. He was solid. Real. Alive - if less vibrant than she was used to. But he would recover soon enough. Relief surged through her while Severus checked him over.

"It will likely be hours before he wakes," Severus supplied, answering her unspoken question. "I'll leave instructions for his care while you wash up."

There was yet another reference to her appearance. She must look a gastly sight. Her clothes were sticking to her uncomfortably, and the dried blood on her arms was crusty and stiff. She wasn't even sure where her wand had gotten to during her earlier hast and worrying or she'd have done something about it already.

Hermione hesitated, loath to leave Remus for even a minute now that she was beside him again. But more than that, she feared Sirius and Severus doing or saying something to provoke the other should she not be around to mediate. In the end, there was nothing for it except to hurry. They were grown men and could hopefully behave like adults for five minutes.

She dallied only long enough to throw back a Headache Potion before returning. The earlier crying had left her eyes scratchy, and her temples and the bridge of her nose throbbing. She'd been tempted to cry again in the shower as the whirling puddle of reddened water circled the drain. To let the scalding streams wash away the evidence of her mingled fear and relief. To let the pounding spray muffle the sounds of her anguish and solace. But in the end she'd been strong enough not to give in to the moment of self-indulgent weakness.

"Has Severus gone then?" she asked, glancing about and not seeing her scowling friend. There was no evidence of additional bloodshed or carnage either - a very good sign.

"Why did he help?" Sirius asked.

"You don't know him as well as you think you do," she replied tiredly, taking the empty chair. Her wand was on the floor where it had partially rolled beneath the bed. She left it where it was, too focused on reaching out for Remus's empty hand. She desperately needed the physical contact right then.

"Apparently," Sirius said mysteriously, handing her a piece of parchment that held Severus's familiar scroll on it.

The instructions could wait. For now, Hermione could only focus on counting down the minutes until Remus woke. She wouldn't truly believe he'd live until then.