Chapter Fifteen

Aftermath

Cold.

That was the first sensation I was aware of, the first thing I could feel in…minutes? Hours? Days? The first thing I could remember other than that terrible, terrible pain. There had been a numbness there, somewhere. After the pain. A numbness that had fused my bones together and frozen my muscles and kept me immobile for an incalculable amount of time. But now there was only cold.

I hoped it was the same day. As more time passed, my brain began to work again – slowly, achingly, but still functionally. I recalled that it had been light when I had gone into the alley, but now it was dark. Lamps had flickered on along the main street. I could see the dull glow of their golden light penetrating the dimness of the alley, but there wasn't a soul in sight.

Rabastan Lestrange had gone. I guess he had grown tired of torturing me, something I was both relieved and sickened by. No one had been able to find me if I was still lying here, if they had even bothered to look at all. But why should they have? I had been nothing short of horrible to everyone before I took off for Hogsmeade. They probably thought I was still having one of my moods. No one would have heard me scream, either, because I hadn't. I could vaguely remember Rabastan Silencing me after every cast of the curse, staring at me maliciously each time my mouth had opened in a silent scream, pain lancing through my body until my muscles shook and my vision turned black, but always he would pull me away from the void just before I fell into it.

"Some people enjoy the screams," his voice echoed back to me, "but it's the eyes that hold the most pain. Almost like a song waiting to be sung. Crucio!" Blinding pain. A flick of his wand Silenced me. "Sing for me with those pretty eyes of yours, my little lark. Sing."

Tears pricked my eyes as I wrenched myself back to the present, hot tears that were so at odds with the coldness in my body. They were the first tears I had allowed myself to shed since being tortured. Undoubtedly, I had cried during the whole thing, but I couldn't remember it. I didn't want to remember it.

I struggled to shift myself into a sitting position on the ground, but every movement sent my body into painful convulsions that wracked my entire frame, making my muscles cramp and tremble violently.

"Help," I tried to shout, but my voice was so hoarse and weak that it came out as a whisper. "Please, help."

If I could just make it to the street, someone would see me and get help. But my body refused to move, and the sky was growing ever darker. Soon, there wouldn't even be anybody around to help me.

I must have passed out again, for the next thing I knew, I was being carried in someone's arms, and there was a roof above my head where once there had been sky.

I tried to protest feebly, but the person shushed me, a gruff, unfamiliar voice. "Easy there, lass. Yer all right now."

All I could see was a dirty white beard and two piercing blue eyes. I felt a sense of recognition at the blurry sight of those eyes, but before I could take in any more details, the man had set me down gently on a creaky bed and departed the room.

I looked around, attempting to gather my surroundings, my head lolling like a rag doll whenever I tried to turn it. I was in a small and shabby bedroom, lying on a bed that smelled like straw, sweat, brandy, and goat, which I thought to be an incredibly weird combination. A fire crackled merrily behind the grate of the fireplace, with several pairs of dirty, worn socks hanging to dry above it. A chipped and broken wardrobe stood off to one side, and there was a battered chair propped next to the bed, beneath the grimy glass of a small window covered with moth-eaten curtains. The only hint of a personal touch in the room was a portrait hanging along one wall of a young girl with blonde hair and a sweet face, who was smiling at me serenely. At the portrait's stare, however, I turned away.

The man reappeared a few minutes later, a damp cloth in one hand and a bottle of firewhiskey in the other. He looked even dirtier now that my gaze was more focused, wearing a set of patched and frayed robes with a grubby apron tied around his waist. When he caught me staring, he scowled.

"Here," he said, helping me sit up in the bed and adjusting the pillows behind my back to prop me up. Though I could feel my normal motor control coming back to me, I still shook every now and then, and my hands still had tremors going through them. He placed the cloth on my forehead before unscrewing the cap on the bottle and handing it to me.

"The drink helps," he said to my incredulous look, taking a seat on the chair next to the bed. "Trust me."

Something about the way he was gazing at me told me he already knew what I had gone through, and with some difficulty, I raised the bottle to my lips, letting the searing liquid slide down my throat. Another shudder rattled my bones, but the firewhiskey helped, dissipating the last of the chill clinging to me and seeming to relax my stiff muscles.

"There we go," the man said when I took another gulp, and I shuddered again, though this time it was weaker. He took the bottle back from me after I had downed another shot, snorting at my affronted expression. "I'm trying to make yeh feel better, lass, not get yeh pissed." He shook his head, scowling again. "Albus would have my arse if I brought yeh back to the castle sloshed."

"You're taking me back to Hogwarts?" My voice sounded like a cat had used it as a scratching post, but at least I was coherent. The man nodded.

"Aye, 's the safest place for yeh right now," he said, taking a gulp of the firewhiskey. He didn't even flinch, and my respect for him only grew. "The Ministry's no use these days, and St Mungo's would keep yeh locked up fer weeks out o' precaution. Least at Hogwarts yeh'll be out of danger."

"But what about…the man who did this to me?" I asked, my courage faltering at the reminder of Rabastan Lestrange. "Shouldn't he be punished?"

The man's face darkened. "Aye, he should. But Dumbledore has contacts in the Ministry that are trustworthy. I'm sure he'll want yeh to speak with them in the coming days."

"I don't want to," I said quietly. Even thinking about Rabastan Lestrange's face was enough to make my skin crawl, but having to give a statement and relive the whole thing…

"It's the only way to catch the bastard who did it," he said. "Yeh remember who did it, aye?"

"Aye – I mean, yes," I said, wondering if my brain had been permanently fried from my torture. My hands fisted in the blanket beneath me. "I hope he rots."

"He will," the man said grimly, and I got the feeling that he meant it.

"Who are you?" I said.

He stood from his chair with a grunt, sealing the firewhiskey before saying, "Aberforth."

I gazed curiously at the man. "Do you live in Hogsmeade? I've never seen you before."

"Wouldn've expected yeh to," he said, and then elaborated at my prodding glance. "I'm the owner of the Hog's Head – 's where yeh are now."

The answer brought me a lot of clarity, and only a little bit of wariness. The Hog's Head was the seedier, grimier version of The Three Broomsticks, and though students weren't technically forbidden from going inside it, most chose not to – if they did, then they were advised to bring their own cup, and I could understand why just by looking at Aberforth and the bedroom I was in. But he didn't seem sinister or unkind, despite being the owner of such a disreputable place. After all, he had helped me, and that was something I would be indebted to him for the rest of my life.

"Can yeh walk?" he asked when I took too long to respond, and I nodded nervously. The firewhiskey had done me wonders, but I was still uncertain as to how my body was going to handle moving about again.

Deciding there was only one way to find out, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, placing my feet gingerly on the filthy floor. Sharp aches and pains flashed through me as I pushed myself to my feet slowly, but I kept my teeth gritted and breathed through them tightly, managing to stand. I swayed slightly but waved off Aberforth when he moved to help me.

"I got it," I said. I told myself to put one foot in front of the other, and when I had managed a few shaky steps, he gave me an approving nod.

"Let's get yeh up to the castle," he said. "Yeh'll probably have to stay the night at the hospital wing, but yeh'll be all right." He gave me a crooked grin from behind his shaggy beard. "Yer a tough one, lass."

"Piper," I said, flashing him a weak but grateful smile. "Piper Everlark."

He nodded before pulling two wands out of his apron, and I recognized my own as he handed it back to me. "Found it next to yeh. I'm assuming it's yers."

I took the wand almost greedily, relief coursing through me at the feel of the familiar wood, and I vowed to myself then that I would never take it for granted again, and that next time – because there would be a next time, I realized with grim certainty; I was a Muggle-born, and I knew that I had made an enemy out of Rabastan Lestrange that day – I wouldn't be caught unprepared again. Rabastan Lestrange may have tortured me, but he had not broken me, and now he was number one on my shit list.

Aberforth waved his own wand, face pulled into a concentrated expression as he muttered, "Expecto Patronum."

A silver, horned creature that looked suspiciously like a goat burst from his wand, its light filling the room and seeming to make everything brighter – but not just in an illuminating sense. Seeing the Patronus filled me with a sense of peace and serenity and a bubbling sort of happiness, and I stared at it in fascination as Aberforth spoke to it.

"Escorting Piper Everlark back to Hogwarts Castle. Meet at the front gates in twenty minutes. Bring nurse. Must speak afterward."

He flicked his wand, and the goat bounded from the room, presumably to Hogwarts and the Headmaster. I was still staring in awe, and he raised a scraggly brow at my expression. "Yeh've never seen a Patronus before?"

"No, but I read all about them when I was younger," I said, my face flushing at the admission. Remus had been the one to tell me about the Patronus Charm when we were kids, and I had been so fascinated that I'd studied everything I could about them for weeks. I always used to wonder what my own Patronus would be, but after my fallout with the Marauders, I'd never given it another thought. Now, however, I couldn't stop myself from wondering what would happen if I tried to give it a shot.

Aberforth studied me for a long moment before saying, "I could teach yeh one o' these days, if yeh'd like."

My eyes widened immediately. "You'd do that?"

He shrugged, suddenly looking very awkward. "I don't get to do much these days. Any Hogsmeade weekend, feel free to drop in. Just send an owl a few days before."

If my body didn't ache so much I probably would've groveled at his feet right then and there. Already, my encounter with Rabastan Lestrange seemed so distant, but I knew that I would have to train if I ever were to face him again, and hope reignited within my chest when I saw how serious Aberforth was being.

"Wicked," was my only reply, and I beamed at him.

"C'mon, then," he said gruffly, turning away, and I wondered if I had imagined his cheeks flaring red. "Let's get yeh back."

I was able to walk on my own for the most part, but Aberforth had to help me down the stairs when my knees nearly gave out beneath me. Normally I would've punched someone in the face for treating me like such a breakable object, but Aberforth said nothing, only stepping in when I really needed him to, which made the mortification more tolerable.

The bar was empty when we passed through, but there were still a few witches and wizards milling about as we started down the main street at a painstakingly slow pace. I caught myself staring hard at everyone we passed, wondering if their face would be the one of Rabastan Lestrange. A coiled ball of anger and vengeance weighed heavily in my chest, reminding me of the not-so-great attributes that had nearly placed me in Slytherin before I had chosen Gryffindor. I could still remember the Sorting Hat crooning in my ear, telling me how well I would do in the House of cunning and ambition, but I wanted to be bold and brave, I had told it stubbornly. In the end, the Hat had agreed that I was far too brash to be a snake, and to Gryffindor, I had gone. Still, sometimes I pondered about what I could have been like had I chosen Slytherin instead.

The walk back to the castle was sluggish and painful. By the time we had reached the gates, I was clinging to Aberforth for support while he held me upright with one arm, the other holding his illuminated wand aloft for light on the dark path.

When we had arrived at the gates, I was about ready to collapse and sleep for the next century, but the bright light of several lit wands forced my eyes to stay open as three figures rushed out of the darkness, the gates swinging open before them.

"Aberforth, thank goodness you found her!"

My mouth nearly dropped open when Professor McGonagall bustled toward me, her typically stern face drawn and full of concern. She was quickly followed by Madam Pomfrey, the matron of the hospital wing, and Dumbledore himself.

"Miss Everlark, what happened?" McGonagall demanded.

I was so out of breath at this point that I flapped my hand toward Aberforth, letting him explain.

"Cruciatus," he said bluntly, and Madam Pomfrey gasped. Professor McGonagall's face drained of color, but Professor Dumbledore merely stared at us, his expression unreadable. "I helped her best as I could, but she'll need some potions and rest."

"Of course," Madam Pomfrey said, and the young matron conjured a stretcher that I made a face at.

"Is that really necessary?" I protested weakly, but apparently, no one cared what I thought, for Aberforth and Madam Pomfrey assisted in lifting me onto the stretcher.

"Poppy, I believe Miss Everlark will be best placed in your hands," Professor Dumbledore said quietly. "Aberforth, Minerva, if we may speak privately in my office?" Professor McGonagall looked hesitant, but the Headmaster reassured her, gently yet firmly, "There will be time for questions in the morning. For now, let us leave Miss Everlark to rest and recover."

The Headmaster turned to look at me then, and I was struck by the familiar blue of his eyes. Before I could even puzzle over why I recognized them, unconsciousness had grabbed hold of me again, and the world went dark.

"Moony, if you don't stop pacing, I will cut your legs off."

Sirius rolled his eyes when Remus flipped him off, continuing to wear a hole in the carpet of the Gryffindor common room where he strode back and forth, his fingers tapping against his legs.

"It's been hours," Remus said, casting a look to the sunset staining the panes of the tower windows red. "No one's seen her since this morning."

"Dorcas said she was probably off having one of her moods," James said from his place on the floor, where he and Peter were having a game of wizard's chess. "Or who knows? Caradoc Dearborn asked her to Hogsmeade; she might have changed her mind and gone with him."

This pulled Remus up short, and he stared at James, an ugly feeling twisting his insides. "What?"

James cursed when one of Peter's knights began pummeling his own, but he looked back to Remus when he felt the other boy's eyes boring into him intently.

"You didn't know he had asked her?" James said incredulously, and Remus shook his head slowly. "Mate, she was sitting right next to you!"

"Lily was stressing about the play," he said defensively. "I was trying to calm her down."

James sniffed. "That should be my job, not yours."

Remus rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."

"If you're so worried about our lovely little Piper, then check the map," Sirius suggested, sprawling out on his armchair and causing several people in the vicinity to eye him appreciatively and sigh.

"I already did," Remus said. "She wasn't on there."

"Then she's probably still in Hogsmeade," Sirius said, shrugging. "No big deal."

Remus didn't reply to that, only running a hand through his hair in frustration. Maybe Sirius and James were right; she could just still be in Hogsmeade, either with her friends or…Caradoc Dearborn. His fists tightened at the thought of Piper on the arm of such a smarmy git before he caught himself and frowned. He had never had a problem with Caradoc Dearborn – then why was he so angry at the thought of him being with Piper?

Because he's a slag, Remus thought. Dearborn goes through girls quicker than Sirius does. I just don't want her to get hurt.

That was a reasonable thought, and Remus settled with it, pushing the stirrings of jealousy to the back of his mind. He sank into an armchair, pulling out the Marauder's Map from his jumper pocket and jabbing it with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Instantly the map came alive with ink tracings and dozens of pattering footsteps and moving names. His eyes roved over each one, looking for Piper Everlark, but it was nowhere to be found. He unfolded a piece of the parchment and scanned Ravenclaw Tower, his frown deepening when he saw Caradoc Dearborn's footsteps walking around there. So, she wasn't with Dearborn – then where the bloody hell was she?

"Why are you so concerned, anyway, Moony?" Peter said, his gaze focused on the game. "I thought we vowed to destroy Pimply's life for good?"

"Don't call her that," Remus snapped. All three boys turned to stare at him in varying levels of shock, and he felt his neck flush. "Er, we made a truce with her, remember?"

Peter snorted. "She's a bitch. Why would we be friends with her again?"

"Pete," James said warningly when he caught the murderous look on Remus's face, "drop it with the B-word. Piper's our friend now, whether you like it or not."

The chubby boy mumbled something along the lines of "I don't," but at James's command, he fell silent.

At that moment, the portrait hole swung open, allowing Dorcas Meadowes, Becca Crouch, and Emmeline Vance into the common room, the three girls huddled together and talking in low whispers. At the sight of Piper's dormmates, Remus practically vaulted over the back of the armchair, stowing away the map and clearing his throat to get their attention.

"Hullo," he said as casually as he could. "Do you know where Piper is?"

The girls exchanged an indecipherable glance before Dorcas turned to him with furrowed brows. "Is she not in our dorm?"

Realizing they didn't know about the map, Remus shrugged and said, "Er, I never saw her come in. I dunno if she's here."

"I'll go check," Emmeline said, giving him a kind smile before darting up the girls' staircase.

Dorcas turned back to him, looking troubled.

"To be honest, Lupin, we haven't seen her all day," she said. "We looked for her everywhere in Hogsmeade, but we couldn't find her."

"It isn't like her," Becca added, her anxious expression at odds with her dark makeup and piercings. "She usually sulks for a while, but she always comes back a few hours later with a new attitude. She's never disappeared for this long before."

"Why do you want to know where she is?" Dorcas asked him, giving him a look that he didn't understand, like he had done something wrong.

"I had a…question…about the play," he said haltingly, cringing when both girls raised their brows at him in disbelief.

"Don't play dumb with us, Lupin," Becca said, rolling her eyes.

Remus stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"She means that you're obvious," said Dorcas bluntly. "Everyone in this bloody school can see that you worship the very ground Piper walks on."

"I don't—" he protested, but Becca talked over him.

"Just suck it up and ask her out, Lupin," she said. "Piper may not be as obvious as you, but the girl's panties hit the floor every time you even enter the same room as her."

Remus had efficiently been reduced to a red, stuttering mess at that point, and he didn't think he'd ever been so grateful to see Emmeline bounding down the staircase and unknowingly saving him from her friends' interrogation.

"She's not up there," she said, looking worried. "We were supposed to be back at the castle an hour ago. You don't think she's still in Hogsmeade, do you?"

"Piper's a big girl, she can handle herself, Em," Dorcas said, though she looked uneasy all the same. "I'm sure she'll be back soon, and probably with another month's worth of detentions under her belt." She turned back to Lupin, meeting his eyes levelly, for they were roughly the same height – which was a feat in itself, as he was a fairly tall bloke. He felt guilty when he recalled how her height and bronze skin had earned her the nickname of Amazon in their youth, but she still looked every bit a warrior when she stared him down. "If you see her, let us know, and we'll do the same."

"Thank you," he said, nodding to them, and the three girls moved up the staircase, leaving Remus to flop back down in his armchair and prod at the map once more.

Hours passed, and there was still no sign of Piper anywhere. Every time the portrait hole opened, he looked for a head of bouncing black curls or striking blue eyes, but it never came. He didn't understand why he was so anxious to see her, but the way she had glared at him that morning, as if they were enemies again, had tightened a knot in his belly that had yet to be loosened.

The other Marauders attempted to distract him with games and even homework, but Remus wasn't in the mood. After several futile tries, they eventually gave up and left him to retreat to their dormitory. The common room began to empty as night crept in, but Remus remained where he was, occasionally tapping and muttering at the map.

Somewhere in the bowels of the castle, a distant bell chimed, doling out the time for midnight. Remus was just about to call it a night, figuring he had done enough stalking for one day when a name suddenly appeared on the map that made his heart drop.

Piper Everlark was floating somewhere along the grounds, accompanied by a name he had never seen before: Aberforth Dumbledore. He watched, confused, as the two names met with three others, belonging to Minerva McGonagall, Poppy Pomfrey, and lastly, Albus Dumbledore. Remus was thrown for a minute by the sight of the two Dumbledores, but he followed the names as Piper and Pomfrey began moving again, back to the castle, with the two Dumbledores and McGonagall following behind shortly after.

The names branched off once they were inside the castle, with the two Dumbledores and Professor McGonagall retreating to the Headmaster's office, while Madam Pomfrey and Piper made for the hospital wing. Remus's heart crawled back up into his throat, and he leaped to his feet immediately, shoving the map back into his pocket.

He made for the portrait hole, not even bothering to wake James to get the Invisibility Cloak. He had the map, and he knew the secret ways to get around without being detected, so he set off briskly in the direction of the hospital wing.

The castle was dark and quiet, but Remus wasn't fooled. Already he could feel the stares of the portraits following him and the whispers that started up when he had turned a corner, and he rolled his eyes; if he thought that the living population of Hogwarts was a bunch of gossips, then the portraits and ghosts were even worse.

He avoided the east side of the third-floor corridor, seeing the footsteps of Argus Filch and Mrs. Norris prowling about, and ducked behind a tapestry with a secret passageway that would take him down to the second floor undetected. The going was uneventful (except for when he nearly ran into Peeves while the poltergeist had been painting graffiti on the suits of armor on the first floor) but Remus could still feel his heart pounding anxiously.

What had happened to Piper? Why was she in the hospital wing? His anxiety kept conjuring up the worst scenarios, making his brow break out in a sweat: Had somebody attacked her? Had she gotten into an accident somehow? Had she suddenly fallen fatally ill?

The more he thought, the more nauseous he became until he thought he would vomit by the time he reached the doors of the hospital wing. He pulled out the map again. Madam Pomfrey was in her office, which left Piper alone in the ward itself. Sealing the map with a hushed "Mischief managed," he crept inside.

At the end of the row of cots, there was a single bed with curtains drawn around it, and his heart pinched when he recognized the cot to be the one usually reserved for him after his transformations. He snuck closer, checking to see that Madam Pomfrey's door was closed before pushing aside one of the curtains, preparing himself for the worst.

He recognized Piper easily, even when she was lying on her side and facing away from him. Her hair draped over the white pillow like swirls of black ink, and he could see the gentle curve of her body as it rose and fell in time with her breathing, the soft sound filling the silent air.

His heart rate seemed to lessen the longer he lingered. Piper was okay. Nothing terrible had happened. Relieved, he reached out a hand to pat down a wild curl unconsciously, but as soon as he touched her hair, she shot straight up in the bed, shoving her wand beneath his chin with a vicious growl.

"Piper!" he yelped, stumbling back. "Calm down! It's me."

Whatever relief he had previously felt was gone in an instant as he stared at her, taking in her wild eyes and furious snarl. The hollows beneath her eyes were shadowed and smeared with something black that he assumed had been her mascara at one point. Her skin was pale and held no trace of her usual makeup, which made her freckles stand out starkly against the white of her skin. She seemed to be having trouble sitting up fully, for small tremors were going through her body, and her eyes were haunted when she looked at him, though they filled with tears when she finally recognized him, her wand falling limply to the bed.

"Remus," she whispered. "I – I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he murmured, taking a cautious step closer. When she didn't react, he took another. "Piper, what happened? Are you all right?"

She smiled weakly, tears still glimmering in her eyes. "I am the furthest from all right I've ever been."

He came and sat next to her on the cot, gazing at her in concern. She blinked rapidly at her admission, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of the pajamas she had been given, and his heart ached at the sight of her. He had always admired Piper's cool and confident persona, but the girl in front of him right now seemed beaten and frightened.

"Piper," he said seriously, "what happened?"

Her face screwed up at the question, her expression battling between rage and fear before settling on shame.

"I'm sorry for being a bitch to you this morning," she blurted out. "In the common room. You were just trying to be nice, and I ignored you," she said to his puzzled look. "And I'm so sorry – after everything's that happened, I just wanted you to know that."

She was crying now, real, unfiltered tears that streamed down her cheeks quickly. Remus was stunned. He didn't think he had ever seen Piper cry.

"You're fine, Pipes," he said, trying for a gentle smile. "Trust me, it takes a lot more than a glare to ruin my day."

This only made her cry harder, which alarmed him.

"I'm such a bitch!" Piper wailed. "I was always so mean to you and the others. Archie was right."

She buried her head in her hands and sobbed, and Remus didn't know what else to do except pat her back awkwardly.

"'S okay, Piper," he said. "Just, er, get it out."

She seemed to take his advice to heart, only calming down after several minutes had passed and looking immensely embarrassed, which he found strangely endearing.

"Ignore Archie," he said. "You're not a bitch, Piper, you hear me?"

Her face darkened at the mention of her brother, and the haunted look filled her eyes again.

"That's not what he said," she said grimly, and Remus frowned at the sudden change in her demeanor. Only a few minutes ago had she been weeping and apologizing, but now she looked angry, determined. "He told me that I always had to have my nose in everybody's business, and he was right." She chuckled humorlessly, and suddenly Remus was nervous.

"Piper," he said, and her blue eyes bored into him like chips of ice. "What happened in Hogsmeade?"

"Rabastan Lestrange," she said darkly, and his stomach flipped at the mention of the former Slytherin student. The last he heard, Rabastan had joined the Death Eaters upon graduating.

"I ran into him at The Three Broomsticks this morning," she continued. "I didn't remember who he was, and maybe if I had, I wouldn't have been so charmed." She shook her head in disgust. "After he left, I did too, to find you lot. Before I could, I saw Archie walking with Regulus Black. I followed them. They went into this alleyway behind the Hog's Head and met with Lestrange." An imperceptible shudder passed through her, but she went on.

"After Archie and Black had left, I cornered Lestrange. I threatened to turn him in to the Ministry for being a Death Eater, but he basically told me to fuck off." She scowled. "I thought that was the end of it, but then…"

She swallowed thickly, and Remus reached out and gripped her hand unthinkingly, silently imploring her to go on, reminding her that she wasn't alone. Her fingernails dug into his hand painfully, but he said nothing as she swallowed again.

"He – he used the Cruciatus Curse on me," she said softly, and the blood rushing in Remus's ears ceased its roaring instantly. "He said he wanted to leave a message for Dumbledore." She shook her head angrily. "I was so stupid. If only I could learn to mind my own business, like Archie said, then none of this would have happened."

"Don't say that," Remus said, more harshly than he'd intended, and she stared at him with narrowed eyes. "You're his sister, Piper. You're supposed to look out for him. If I had a brother, I would've done the same thing."

"But he wants to join them," she said, her voice breaking a bit on the last part. "That's the point, Remus. If I hadn't been such a terrible sister to him – if I hadn't provoked Dad so much, if I'd only tried to be nicer – then he wouldn't hate us, and Archie wouldn't hate me. He wants to be a Death Eater, and it's all my fault!"

"It's not," Remus said, gripping her hand tighter. "Archie's a kid, Piper. He doesn't know what he wants – much less what he wants to do. I know how that feels: being lost, having so many questions you don't know the answers to – and to kids like him, they think a cause bigger than their own problems can help them find those answers. I don't agree with it, but I understand where he's coming from."

"I don't know how to help him," she admitted tearfully. "He blames me for everything, and I don't know how to fix that."

"Then we'll find a way," he said. "I don't want to see Archie go down this path, either, Piper. But we'll figure out something, together."

She didn't answer immediately, her eyes only searching his face intently – for what, he didn't know, but he found that he didn't quite mind having her eyes on him.

"There's something else you should know," she said quietly. "You asked me before to let you help me – I didn't want your help then, so I said nothing. But I don't want to keep secrets from you, Remus. Not anymore."

"You can tell me anything," he promised, and she gave him a tremulous smile.

"That one day, in the Great Hall, when Sirius said those…things about Bertram Aubrey and me," she started, and Remus clenched the hand that wasn't holding hers into a fist at the memory. He'd wanted to hit Sirius, he was so angry – angry at the cruel words that had left his friend's mouth, angry that he thought he had just lost her again, angry at the image that kept replaying in his head, of Aubrey and her…

"He was right, in a way," she continued, wrenching him out of his thoughts. "I did ask Aubrey to help me study for my O.W.L., and he did do all that stuff to me in the library. Except I didn't want to. He just…pushed me down and lifted my skirt, and…"

She shuddered, and Remus felt as if he'd been sucker-punched in the gut. All the air left his body as the full implication of what Piper was saying hit him, and something within his chest snapped, a terrifying feeling that he had come to associate with the beast living in his blood, the creature that was unleashed every night of the full moon, and he suddenly saw red.

"I'll kill him," he said softly, and he honestly couldn't tell then whether he meant it or not.

"Remus," she said, aghast, but he yanked his hand out of her grasp, beginning to stalk the space between the cot and the curtains angrily. "Remus, please. Calm down."

"No!" he snarled. "Not after this! Not after what he did!"

"He won't get away with it, I promise, but please, just sit down," she said. "Hurting him won't solve anything, Remus. He deserves it, I know, but doing it will only make things worse."

He barely heard her, the blood roaring in his ears again. He had half a mind to go to Ravenclaw Tower then and let the beast have its revenge, but before he could do anything, he was stopped in his tracks by Piper. She had slid out of her cot and come to stand in front of him, pushing herself onto her tip-toes to better meet his gaze, her hands raising to cradle each side of his face gently.

"Remus, please," she murmured, and her eyes were so earnest that the beast recoiled a little. "Please don't do anything rash. I can take care of this on my own. If you really want to help me, then just be here for me. That's all I want. Can you do that for me?"

He was very aware of her hands on his cheeks, her cold palms soothing to his blazing skin. The beast within growled, but when he gazed back into her eyes – so blue, so soft, so strong – it retreated to its dark corner, allowing him to take a deep breath and nod resolutely.

"Anything," he said hoarsely. "I'd do anything for you."

She smiled then, the first genuine smile he had seen on her face in days. She led him back to the cot and they sat down, and suddenly he missed the feel of her soft hands. He watched as she settled back to bed, and he noticed then how exhausted she was, and he felt guilty for keeping her from the rest she obviously needed.

"I'll let you sleep," he said, patting her knee softly, wondering if he would be so lucky to get any himself.

"Remus," she said quietly, and he turned to find her staring at him, a small, peaceful smile on her face. "Thank you."

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, but he was stopped from leaving when her voice called out to him again.

"Remus?"

He turned once more to see her gazing at him, and an odd heat rushed through him when he took in her face, so sweet and so calm, despite everything that had happened to her.

"Yeah?" he said, and she patted the small space next to her on the cot.

"Do you mind staying with me tonight?" she asked, and it took him several moments to process what she had said.

"Er, yeah," he said. "Wait, no, I meant – I don't mind. I'll, uh, stay with you."

She seemed amused by his jumbled answer, but he ignored her small smirk, instead toeing off his shoes and depositing the map and his wand on the bedside table. She shifted to make more room for him, and he laid down beside her, his lanky form practically dwarfing her.

The cot was clearly only meant for one person, but after a bit of shuffling around, he finally managed to find a comfortable enough position, with one arm under the pillow and the other resting awkwardly by his side. They faced the same direction, with his chest neatly lined up to her back, but he kept some space between them, not sure if she was okay with being touched or not, but that question soon received an answer.

"You know, I'm not poisonous or anything," she said snidely. "You can get closer than that."

He rolled his eyes. And there's the Piper I'm used to.

"Fine," he said, scooting closer until they were almost touching. He could feel the warmth of her body seeping through the front of his jumper, and another rush of heat went through him that had nothing to do with her, yet he suspected also had everything to do with her.

"Goodnight, Remus," she said, once she was apparently satisfied.

"'Night, Pipes," he replied, and she was asleep almost instantly.

Remus laid awake for several more minutes, thinking of how strangely wonderful it felt to have Piper Everlark sleeping beside him, and almost wishing he could have this every night before pushing that thought away and falling into a deep sleep.

I don't know how long I slept, but I know that it wasn't long enough. Madam Pomfrey's potions had worked their magic overnight (no pun intended), and even though I woke up with minimal pain, I still wanted to sleep for an entire day.

Until, of course, I remembered all the events of the previous day, and was suddenly wide awake, my heart galloping in my chest. I attempted to sit up but found that a heavy weight was slung across my waist, and I looked down, silently panicking a bit when I saw that the weight belonged to a human arm.

What the fuck?

Now that I was aware of the arm around my waist, I could feel someone's very warm breath tickling the hairs on my neck, and I turned my head slightly to see Remus curled up on his side next to me, sleeping peacefully.

My face burned about a hundred degrees hotter than normal upon this realization, and I was surprised he hadn't woken up from the frantic pulsing of my heart alone. He was still dressed – thank God; if I had banged Remus Lupin, I'd want to be conscious for the whole thing – his sandy hair tousled from the pillow, and he was breathing deeply, sending pleasant chills down my spine every time he exhaled.

Good Godric, I couldn't believe this was happening to me right now. I mean, Remus Lupin, my once-best friend-turned-crush-turned-enemy-turned-acquaintance-turned-crush-again, was sleeping in the same bed as me. And the best part was that he looked so peaceful and sweet, and I couldn't help myself from staring at him like a creep, a sharp rod poking me in the heart.

I realized, then, that I wanted this. Not just now, but, like, forever. I wanted him. The conviction of it was enough to twist my gut, and I squirmed uncomfortably until I noticed that my wriggling had awoken him.

His eyelids fluttered, and I quickly ran a hand over my mouth, searching for anything dry or crusty (I had a bad habit of drooling when I slept, okay?) before turning back over and feigning sleep, hoping he hadn't caught me staring at him all longingly and such.

"Piper?" he mumbled, and his voice was deep and scratchy from sleep. I was lucky the potions I had taken for my pain and fatigue were still encasing my body in a comatose state, or else I would've been soaking wet right about then. The arm around my waist retracted slightly until he was shaking my hip and whispering "Piper? You up?" into my ear. And even though I knew he wasn't trying to be seductive or anything, I suddenly wished he was.

Deciding that my charade was at an end, I rolled over (not pushing myself closer to his chest – okay, who was I kidding, I totally was) and pretended to blink up blearily at him. It wasn't hard, considering that my eyelids felt like sandbags anyway, but he smiled at me when he saw me looking.

Sweet Merlin, has he always been this beautiful?

"You have drool on your chin," he pointed out amusedly, and I slapped my hand to the offending area, my eyes shooting open. So much for my once-over.

"Fuck," I moaned, licking my hand and rubbing off the crustiness, "that's embarrassing."

"What about me?" he said with a grin, tilting his face for inspection. His scars weren't even visible in the soft morning light, and without thinking, I said, "Perfect."

We both seemed startled by my word choice, but I looked away quickly, pretending to be interested in my pajama sleeve while he got up and stretched. His jumper slid up a bit when he raised his arms overhead, yawning, and I snuck a glance at the sliver of skin I saw there, not disappointed with what I saw.

"I'll go see if Pomfrey's awake," he said. "She'll want to check you right away."

"And how were you planning on telling her that you snuck in after hours and slept in the same bed as me to explain why you're here so early?" I asked, arching a brow when he paused, pursing his lips.

"I woke up early this morning to finish some homework in the library before running into Nearly Headless Nick, who saw you come in last night and informed me of your whereabouts since we're such good friends," he said easily, shrugging, and I was impressed. No wonder why the Marauders had always been able to get out of trouble so much; Remus was a natural liar, and he was good at it.

"You should be a politician with a tongue like that," I said before internally groaning.

He seemed bemused, only shrugging again before stepping out of the curtains to wake up Madam Pomfrey. When he was gone, I flopped back on my pillow, groaning.

"Get a grip on yourself, Piper," I muttered to myself. "Just because some nutcase tortured the ever-loving shit out of you doesn't give you the right to act like a blithering idiot."

I waited for only a couple of minutes before Remus returned with Madam Pomfrey. The young matron pushed open my curtains and waved her wand, running some diagnostic spells on me before clucking her tongue.

"I think the worst is over, Miss Everlark," she said, patting my leg gently before giving Remus a fond smile. "Mr. Lupin told me that you had confided in him of what happened when he came to see you this morning. It's lovely to see such a strong bond between friends." I made a face when they weren't looking, but she went on. "I must leave to get Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. They've been wanting to speak to you for a while, and I believe they may have someone from the Ministry to ask some questions. I trust Mr. Lupin to watch over you while I'm gone; any emergency, and he will come straight to me."

"Got it," I said, and she flashed me a brief smile before hurrying out of the hospital wing, leaving Remus and me alone.

He took the chair next to my cot, suddenly looking grim now that the matron was gone, and I prodded his arm with my finger.

"Chin up," I told him. "You'll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that." He didn't say anything, only staring into the distance pensively, and I sighed. "Remus, you're doing it again."

Now he looked at me. "Doing what?"

"Brooding." I raised an eyebrow at him. "What's wrong?"

"My best friend just got tortured by a Death Eater," he said, and he sounded so pained that I completely missed him referring to me as his best friend again. "And then Aubrey…"

His hands clenched on the arms of his chair, his knuckles turning white, and I chewed my lower lip for a moment, thinking.

"None of that was your fault," I pointed out, and he stabbed a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Maybe it is," he said lowly, as if he were speaking to himself. "If I had still been your friend, you could've come to me for help, not Aubrey. If I had gone to Hogsmeade with you yesterday, then—"

He broke off, rubbing his mouth in agitation, and I stared at him in shock and some concern, touched.

"We've gone over this before, Remus," I said as gently as I could. "We can't change the past."

He stared at me, his expression unreadable, but before we could speak further, the doors opened, allowing Madam Pomfrey to enter with the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, and the most terrifying wizard I had ever seen.

"Who the hell is that?" I whispered to Remus, whose eyes had gone wide at the sight of the grizzled wizard stomping his way toward us.

"Alastor Moody," he said in awe. At my blank look, he elaborated. "My dad introduced me to him when he visited our house once. He's the Head Auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He's put more Dark wizards in Azkaban than anyone."

"Where's the rest of his nose?" I asked. There was a considerable chunk of the body part missing from the wizard's face as he approached, making him look even more dangerous and frightening up close, but Remus didn't have time to answer, for just then the congregation arrived at my bedside.

"Miss Everlark," Professor Dumbledore greeted genially. I gave him a small wave, unsure of how to respond. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I just got tortured, sir, but I'll be fine," I said, figuring honesty was the best policy, and though the professors and Madam Pomfrey looked grim, Alastor Moody eyed me appraisingly for my attempt at humor.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said before sweeping his hand to indicate the other wizard. "Miss Everlark, this is Alastor Moody. He's an Auror, and someone I have placed my full trust in. He will be asking you a manner of questions to glean some information about the attack that took place in Hogsmeade yesterday upon your person."

"Sure," I said, shrugging, before turning to the Auror. "What do you want to know?"

"Send your boyfriend out first," he said gruffly, pointing to Remus and ignoring the way both our faces flushed at the comment.

Remus looked at me, and I nodded. He got to his feet.

"I'll be in the common room if you need me," he said.

"Let everyone know I'm okay?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Already on it," he said, and we shared one last smile before he departed. With Remus gone, I suddenly felt a lot more tired and anxious, but I waited expectantly for Moody to start.

Once he was sure Remus was gone, he turned back to me and pulled out his wand, a quill, and some parchment. He muttered something indecipherable, swishing his wand, and the parchment and quill began to float in midair, ready to copy down what I had to say.

"Where did the attack occur?" Moody questioned.

"In an alleyway behind the Hog's Head."

"Time?"

"Er…" I struggled to remember, but I hadn't checked a clock before following Regulus and Archie into the alley. "Early afternoon? I can't remember the exact time, but I know it was daytime."

The quill scratched at the parchment as I spoke, but I tried to focus on Moody instead. He stared at me intently, his beady eyes watching me as if he were a human lie detector, ready to swoop upon me if I as much as uttered the wrong syllable.

"Why were you attacked, Miss Everlark?"

I hesitated here. Despite everything that had happened, my first instinct was to protect Archie. I didn't want to get him arrested or something for having ties to the Death Eaters, even though he wasn't one, and wouldn't ever be if I had any say in the matter. Moody sensed my reluctance, for he leaned forward in the chair that had once been occupied by Remus, imploring me to speak.

"There was a man I had met in The Three Broomsticks before the attack," I said. "His name was Rabastan Lestrange." Moody's face darkened, and the three staff members traded a grim glance. "We, er, hit it off, I guess, and I followed him into the alleyway." It was the truth, technically, even though I had followed Archie and Regulus Black in the first place. "He said he wanted to leave a message for Professor Dumbledore, and then he…"

I trailed off, sucking in a deep breath. Moody eyed me curiously.

"Tell me, Everlark, what is your blood status?"

"I'm a Muggle-born," I said nervously, and he looked at Dumbledore solemnly.

"Lestrange has been on my watchlist for seven months," he said. "He's a known Death Eater and seems to have a liking for torturing Muggles and Muggle-borns, especially." He turned back to me. "Is there anything else you would like to add to your statement, Miss Everlark?"

"Just catch the bastard," I said angrily, and Moody's mouth twitched.

"That's my job, Miss Everlark," he said. "He'll rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life once we find him."

I believed him, and he got up to converse quietly with Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall while Madam Pomfrey went into her stores to find me some more potions. A few minutes later, Moody turned back to me, while Dumbledore and McGonagall went to stand by the doors.

"If you think of anything else, Professor Dumbledore will allow you to Floo to my office," he said, handing me a battered business card. I took it, nodding gratefully, but he leaned in close, eyeing me intensely. "You're made of tougher stuff than most, Everlark. You ever think of being an Auror after school?"

"I – what?" I said blankly, and he grinned, though the expression was more unsettling than his scowl.

"Think about it," he said. "These are dark times, and we could use more people like you in our forces."

He moved off before I could even formulate a response, going back to talk to Dumbledore and McGonagall. I stared at his card, turning it over in my hands while an inkling of an idea began to take shape in my mind.