The halls of Hogwarts had never seemed so long to Remus, as he made his way to the hospital wing. He'd decided that he'd just get a quick dose of medicine and then return to his class, after all, it was just a headache... Or so it had seemed when it had begun; now it felt to Remus as though the hand on his forehead was the only thing keeping it from splitting open. The walls seemed to be moving like an animal tormented, and the constant blurred movement in the many portraits lining them wasn't exactly helping him feel any more stable.
Just as his viewpoint was beginning to resemble an image reflected in a pool lightly rained on, the wooden double doors to the infirmary appeared to his left. Turning, he groped at the handle with his hands, now almost frantic for the white quiet that it would offer. The doors finally gave way and opened out into the room.
Far from the calm and orderly scene that he had expected, Remus was met with utter confusion and chaos. It looked as though someone had unleashed a whirlwind on the room; the lights were out, several bottles of healing potions had been broken open and were dripping their contents onto the floor, cupboards stood gaping open, shattered glass was everywhere and broken bedposts with tangled linens stood like shipwrecks across the room.
Remus stumbled backwards in surprise, trying to get his eyes to focus better in the dark room, in the hope of picking out the shape of Madame Amalthea or some other authority. Then, from the far corner of the room, came a dull thud and the tinkling of more glass. Someone was still in the room. Without really thinking, Lupin reached into his pocket and wrapped his fingers about his wand, before advancing slowly into the semi-darkness.
Cursing the carpet of broken glass that crunched tellingly under his feet, Remus reasoned that it probably didn't matter all that much, considering that he hadn't opened the door to the room with any great delicacy. Still, he thought nervously, it was odd that the whomever was in the room hadn't been quieter, had they indeed known that he was there. They were silent now though, he noted, his heart speeding up and pounding uncomfortably in his aching temples as he stepped over a chair leg, moving ever closer to the end of the room.
Another thud, and Remus' heart leapt into his mouth; it was behind him. Wheeling round, he just caught the outline of a man in the light from the open door, before it was slammed shut. Blinking desperately in the now almost pitch room, he began to move quickly back to the doorway, panic building in his chest and his head still swimming. Sweat beaded on his face, but he was nearly at the door, nearly out of the close blackness. Then he tripped.
With a yelp Remus went down, expecting to smack into the glass-strewn floor beneath him. But his hands, outstretched to break his fall, stopped him before he fell that far. He gripped at the object that had stopped his descent and leaned forward against it. From the feel of it, he was gripping fabric; probably one of the upturned beds he though, when suddenly it lurched forward and a hand grabbed his wrist.
"You, are not supposed to be here, little third year," a masculine voice hissed in his ear.
Shock displaced the fear that he would have otherwise been feeling and rendered him momentarily immobile. Another hand reached out to cover his mouth, and the werewolf quickly regained his senses: he had to escape. Desperately, he struck out with his free hand, but found that this resulted in his other arm being cruelly twisted behind him. His cry was muffled by the hand of the stranger.
"Don't mess with me boy, or I'll break it," the voice at his ear came again, "you're lucky I like you; I'd usually do far worse to someone who got in my way," it leered. "As it happens I'll think I'll let you go. Sporting of me, isn't it? Of course, you'll tell no one, that goes without saying… Unless you have something of a death wish. You don't, do you?"
Something about the tone of the voice told Remus that he had better respond, and he shook his head quickly. This turned out to be extraordinarily painful, and stars rushed in front of his eyes, unbalancing him so that he tipped forward precariously. This brought him much closer to his assailant than he wanted to be, and he attempted to reverse the action. Apparently the stranger wasn't inclined to allow this, however, and Remus' arm was once more twisted to prevent further movement.
"Seems you like me too, mmm?" The voice was heavy with amusement, "shame I'm going to have to leave you now really," it continued, and Remus felt the hand covering his mouth being removed. There was a slight rustle of material as the other man removed something from his robes, before bringing the hand back to pinch Remus' nose. In confusion he opened his mouth to allow him to breathe easily again, only to have his mouth covered as well, this time with the stranger's own. Feeling suffocated and totally perplexed by the warm lips that were stopping his breath Remus tried to protest, wriggling despite the increasing pain being inflicted on his arm because of this. He stopped dead, however, when he felt a moist tongue enter his mouth, along with a cool, bitter liquid. Poison? Remus' tried to think of a way to avoid swallowing the substance, but his head was spinning, his lungs felt as though they might burst, his arm felt like a white hot poker had been applied to it and his stomach was inappropriately filled with a fluttering feeling. He realised he had no choice, and swallowed.
Almost instantly the hand was removed from his nose, but the lips lingered for a moment before parting from his, almost reluctantly, it seemed. Remus gasped at the air in relief, feeling the cool air wash into his strained lungs.
"Good boy", came the silky response to his forced compliance, "remember, not a word to anyone about this mess." Though the man's tone was still pleasant, Remus could hear the threatening undertones bubbling beneath the surface. At least the warning meant that it probably wasn't poison he had just swallowed. But in that case, what had it been? His captor effectively prevented any further thought, by suddenly releasing Remus' arm and allowing him to stumble to the floor.
"You'd probably better stay down there, or you'll be falling down in a few moments," Remus was advised, as he attempted to stand. Strangely though, his body was not responding to his need to be vertical, his limbs suddenly becoming stubbornly leaden and uncooperative. He scowled at his offending legs and mentally willed them to move, just as a curious wave of warmth spread upwards from his toes. The feeling spread through his body, catching in his chest and forming cold beads of sweat all over, as he gave in to the floor completely.
As he lay unmoving on the floor he thought he saw, in the few moments before he blanked out completely, the outline of a man exit through the door again. And in the light, a glint of silver cascading over his shoulders and down his back.