2. Uncorrected
Harry was lying in the Infirmary, fighting against death, after he'd assured that Voldemort wouldn't win his personal battle with the Grim Reaper. The worlds of both Wizards and Muggles were free of his terror. Slowly, things could get back to normal.
Harry had been willing to sacrifice his life – just like his parents.
Remus slowly blinked his eyes against the incoming rays of light. He stretched his arms, massaging his aching neck. The chairs in the Infirmary were not nearly as comfortable as the armchairs in his chambers. Probably Poppy's doing. Remus sighed and swept his gaze over to the occupant of the bed in front of him, startled to see two shockingly green eyes observing him silently.
Harry Potter, the boy who had finally lived up to his name by ending Voldemort's life, seemed even smaller than he truly was as he was lying in the clean hospital bed. Pale arms, almost as white as the covers, rested upon the blanket. There were no telltale scars marring the delicate looking flesh, no gashes, not even bandages where wounds could have been hidden beneath. Apart from the curse scar on his forehead, in fact, Harry's skin was as unblemished as ever.
"How are you, Harry?" Remus asked gently, brushing his hand over the boy's arm. "Are you feeling any better?"
Harry smiled softly, tilting his head to the side.
"That's good, very good. You'll see, you will be better in no time at all." While the hand stroking Harry's hand was very gentle, Remus' other hand gripped the arm of his chair in a vicelike grip. "Are you hungry? What do you want for breakfast? Pancakes? Sausages? Toast? Or anything Pomfrey would approve of?"
The muscles in Harry's right hand flexed once and the boy sighed, closing his eyes.
"All right," whispered Remus, carefully taking his hand away. "I'll let you rest for now."
Noiselessly rising from his sleeping place, Remus' gaze turned cheerless as he surveyed the once again sleeping boy. Long minutes he used cursing Voldemort's unholy bones to hell and back for causing Harry so much hurt. As if he hadn't done enough already while amongst the living, even in his afterlife he couldn't stay away.
Remus felt the bitter taste in his mouth. Severus used his time to research a cure for lycanthropes, but not for Harry. Remus averted his gaze and turned around to leave.
"Did you sleep well?"
Remus' eyes snapped towards the door and he let out a dry chuckle. "Not as well as I would have liked, Albus." He headed to his mentor.
"The chairs here have the habit of causing terrible back and neck ache. I believe Poppy tries to discourage students from visiting for too long." Albus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Extracting one lemon drop for himself, he offered them to Remus, who reclined with a shake of his head. "How is he?"
"I don't know," said Remus, shrugging. "He looks better, though."
Albus nodded.
"Do you think-"
"No."
It was Remus' turn to nod; he did so dejectedly. "Well, I better head down to the dungeons," he sighed. Somehow he couldn't find it in himself to look forward to taking the little blood sample, no matter how much he found Severus' presence exciting. Something about sharp objects in the Potions master's hands left him indistinctly queasy.
"Did Severus talk to you yet?" Albus asked before Remus could leave. His eyes were twinkling oddly.
"Yes," nodded the still-werewolf. "He sought me out yesterday evening." He willed his thoughts away from the events that happened at the end of their little meeting. It was during moments like this he cursed the fact that he was surrounded by Legilimens, and that he wasn't well-versed in the field of Occlumency. "I wanted to thank you for, well, you know."
"No need to thank me, Remus." The twinkling intensified.
"Yes, Albus, there is. I haven't seen the full moon with human eyes since I was a very small child and when Severus is successful ..."
"There is really no need to thank me," Albus repeated, pursing his lips as if trying to keep from smiling too openly. "I am not the only one with good intentions."
Remus frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that not everything turns out as it appears," Albus said enigmatically. He shot a quick glance over Remus' shoulder, his eyes turning sad shortly, before he fixed Remus again with his twinkling gaze. "Voldemort is dead. Severus has made his amends and more. It is not my place to tell him what to do with his spare time." He lowered his head with a smile, his eyebrows rising.
Remus' mind needed a few moments to process his words. Then his eyes widened. "It was his idea?" he asked incredulously, a butterfly wreaking havoc in his belly. "He wants to find the cure for me?"
Albus merely smiled.
"But why- I mean, he said that you-" Remus shook his head, a smile and a frown battling for dominance on his face. "He wanted me to know that he brewed the potion, though."
"Recognition was always very important for Severus," said Albus. "And after the Ministry of Magic declined my request to award him the Order of Merlin ... You know how he is, Remus. Severus needs the respect, even if he doesn't show it openly, he needs it. He requires acknowledgement above everything else, and that is his way to acquire it."
"But why would he imply that you forced him to do it?"
"You do know Severus Snape, don't you?" chuckled Albus. "He would never admit that he actually wanted to help you."
Suddenly, there was a second butterfly in Remus' belly, doing silly flips around the first one. "He did, I mean, he does, really?" And then the two butterflies started to recreate frantically, filling his belly with dozens of madly fluttering wings. Remus knew he couldn't keep the silly grin from his face, so he didn't even try.
Albus sighed, his expression sobering slightly. "A werewolf's transformation has always been not only painful but dangerous, as well. You have the fortune of being very healthy, Remus, many other werewolves aren't as lucky."
"Yes." Even though Remus had been near the fine line separating him from a life of poverty, he had always been able to rely on his natural healthy stature.
"Apparently, the transformation, as the time wears on, becomes even more dangerous to the infected. There have been more and more deaths in the last months." Albus sighed and the twinkling diminished entirely. "It seems as if Voldemort himself had provided some kind of potion to them to help his dark creatures with the change, though Severus didn't brew it. You, Remus, were always very kind-hearted, so the wolf couldn't grasp you fully during the full moon ... Many of the other infected, however, seemed to seek the dark power, maybe even willingly became werewolves, I don't really know. All I do know is that the transformation could get dangerous for you, as well."
Remus took it in silently, vowing to woo Severus earnestly now that he knew of the man's secret intentions.