This one wrote a little faster than I thought it would. I'll leave it up to you to decide what the title means.

Chapter Fourteen


Returning Home

"So are you going to tell me what happened today?" Jesse looked up from her packing to see Lily staring pointedly at her. They'd come back a bit early from the races to beat the crowd of students trying to catch Portkeys in time for dinner, so the dorm room was empty except for the two friends.

"I'm not sure I know what you're referring to," Jesse replied slowly, folding a shirt and pressing it carefully into her suitcase.

"Geoffrey, of course," Lily said exasperatedly. Jesse sighed, relieved; she'd been sure Lily was going to ask about her mother, which was hardly something she wished to talk about.

"You saw what happened," she said with a shrug. "What do you want me to say?"

"Why did he attack you?" Lily practically yelled, her tiredness from the races and worry for her friend making her suddenly angry. "What in hell did you do to him to make him that mad?"

It wasn't like Lily to cuss—at all—and Jesse stared at her in surprise.

"I didn't do anything," she said defensively. "He came up to me and started shooting spells off. What did you think, that I started it?"

"Excuse me for saying so," Lily said irritably, "but that doesn't make any sense at all. People don't just start cursing other people, in public, with security guards wandering around. You must have done something."

"Well I didn't!" Jesse screamed, tears welling up in her eyes for no reason at all. She turned away and began throwing more clothes into her suitcase, including clothes she hadn't meant to pack. "You think I wanted this to happen?!"

Lily didn't respond, just stared at her friend's back, bewildered.

"No, of course not," she said quietly after a long pause during which Jesse slammed her suitcase shut and tossed it toward the door. "Jesse, I'm sorry, don't get mad—"

"Too late!" Jesse roared, opening the door and kicking her suitcase down the stairs. The common room was crowded with people relaxing after the races, and many turned to see what the commotion was. Flushed from anger and embarrassment, Jesse retrieved her suitcase and walked silently to the fireplace. A few first years sitting in front of it, drying off after a long day of sledding, scooted back out of her way.

"Jesse—" Lily said softly behind her. She put a light hand on her friend's shoulder, but it was shaken away. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she tried again, but Jesse wasn't listening.

"Tell the boys good-bye for me," Jesse said sharply, and grabbed a fistful of Floo powder. Dane had paid for a direct connection from Hogwarts to his apartment in Muggle Ireland, so Jesse only had to speak his address and would be taken straight there. She tossed a spray of Floo powder into the fire and watched the flames burn bright green. Placing her suitcase carefully in the center of the ashes, she yelled the address into the fireplace and watched her belongings spin away.

When the fire turned orange again, Lily touched her friend gently on the wrist to stop her from throwing the rest of the powder.

"Please don't leave angry," she begged, wishing they weren't in plain view of everyone in the room. A little privacy would have been ideal. "I'm just cranky, it's been a long day…"

"Fine. I'm not mad. Bye." Jesse threw the rest of the powder into the fire, stepped into the green flames, and tucked her elbows in.

"Jesse, wait—" But the girl had already spoken and was spinning away toward Ireland.

Lily sighed sadly and turned to go back to her dorm, and noticed immediately that nearly everyone in the room was staring at her. They all turned away as she noticed them, pretending to be absorbed in conversation again. She heaved another sigh and chose to visit the boys in their room instead.

"James?" Lily called quietly, knocking on the fifth year boys' dormitory. Someone moved and there were soft footsteps on the carpet, and the door opened.

"What's wrong?" James asked quietly when he saw her face. He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the room, where they boys were playing a card game on the floor.

"Jesse just left," Lily told them sadly, sitting next to her boyfriend on the floor. "She's really mad at me."

"She left already?" Sirius said with surprise. "I thought she was going to wait until the common room cleared out."

"Yeah, she was, but…we got in a fight and she got mad and left."

"Don't worry about it, Lily," Remus said softly, leaning across the card game to take her hand. "She's upset. I'm sure she didn't mean it."

"She still should have said good-bye to us," Sirius complained with a frown. "Where is she going, anyway?"

"Visiting her brother," Remus replied. He and Lily were still unsure of whether to tell their friends the whole truth.

"Can we keep playing now?" Peter interrupted irritably. "It's been your turn for ages, Sirius."

"Lily, do you want to play?" James asked politely while Sirius drew a card. She shook her head, content just to watch.

>>

Jesse returned at the end of the week, on the Saturday before term was due to start. She'd taken an airplane from America back to her brother's flat in Ireland, then returned to Hogwarts by Floo powder as before. She appeared in the fire before dawn Saturday morning, when the common room was empty and dark, and crept silently up to her dorm room. Her three dorm mates were asleep, for which Jesse was grateful. She left her suitcase with her trunk at the foot of her bed, then collapsed into bed and fell immediately asleep. Despite the strange schedule she was on, the stress of travel had exhausted her.

She woke up when her roommates started to rise and dress. Lily smiled tentatively at her friend, and seemed greatly relieved when Jesse smiled sleepily back.

"You want to come down to breakfast with us?" she whispered, leaning toward Jesse as she pulled her robes on.

"Yeah, sure," Jesse yawned, getting slowly to her feet. She took her time in getting dressed, but the boys still hadn't come down when Lily and Jesse entered the common room. They took seats by the window to watch the snowfall outside.

"I'm sorry I got so mad at you," Jesse said finally, as the common room filled up and their silence grew less awkward. "I know you didn't mean anything."

"That's okay," Lily assured her with a smile. "I was cranky too."

Just then there were loud footsteps on the stairs over their heads, and Sirius vaulted over the railing, skipping the last few steps.

"Hey!" he exclaimed when he saw Jesse and Lily sitting by the window. "You're back!"

"And you're observant!" Jesse replied as though this were a great surprise.

"I know, I've been working on that," Sirius winked, joining them in the window seat. He put an arm around each girl's shoulders and smiled blissfully. "Now this is how life should be," he sighed, leaning back against the window.

James, Peter, and Remus came downstairs a moment later, in a considerably more civilized manner. They greeted Jesse warmly, and the six of them went downstairs for breakfast.

"You up for racing today?" James asked Jesse as they sat around the table in the Great Hall.

"Do you even have to ask?" Jesse replied. "I didn't know there was one today, though."

"Yeah, tomorrow too. They're trying to fit in a few more before term starts up and they lose most of their Hogwarts business."

"In America they're having the dragon races right now," Jesse announced excitedly. "Some of my friends there told me. Those will continue through the summer—you guys absolutely must come, it's so amazing."

"Isn't that a little dangerous?" Lily asked dubiously.

"Hell yes," Jesse grinned. "That's why we do it!"

"Wait a sec, you do this?" Sirius was intrigued, and Remus stared at her apprehensively, awaiting her response.

"Totally," she said casually. "It's way fun, you just—"

"Jesse!" Lily interrupted. "That's really dangerous! You didn't race when you were over there just now, did you?"

"I wasn't exactly in the mood," Jesse replied shortly, causing Lily to blush and fall silent.

"Jess, I can't believe you race dragons!" James said excitedly, not noticing the change in the girls' mood. "I've heard all about it from my mum's American cousins, they say it's just the greatest thing ever. How long have you done that for?"

"Oh, I just did a few here and there the year before I came back here. You have to train for a long time if you want to race professionally, but the illegal races usually let anyone try."

The boys bombarded Jesse with questions about the races, and even Peter seemed excited about the prospect of visiting America and attending a race.

"You can visit my family with me like we talked about," Jesse said excitedly. "We can go camping at the lake and I can show you how American broom races are, too. If we're lucky there will still be some going on in the summer. And you'll get a taste of Muggle life in America—our house is in a Muggle city cause we had to—" Jesse stopped and frowned. Remus realized she was probably talking about her mother's need to be near Muggle hospitals, for chemotherapy treatments and the like.

"Well, anyway, it's great fun living with them. You'll love it," Jesse finished lamely and poked at her eggs. James, Sirius, and Peter exchanged a confused look, but Lily quickly stepped in to change the subject.

"What time are we heading for the track?" she asked.

"Right after breakfast, if you want." This plan seemed to agree with everyone, so they finished eating quickly and went back upstairs to retrieve their brooms.

>>

"ALL RACERS PLEASE REPORT TO THE STARTING LINE! THE REGISTRATION DESK IS NOW CLOSED, AND IF YOU HAVE NOT SUPPLIED ALL THE REQUIRED INFORMATION YOU WILL NOT BE PERMITTED TO PARTICIPATE IN THE FIRST RACE. PLEASE SIGN UP DIRECTLY AFTERWARD. I REPEAT, ALL RACERS TO THE STARTING LINE!"

"Are you ready?" Remus asked Jesse, leaning close to speak the words in her ear. She shivered delightedly and nodded, and they walked together toward the starting line. Their brooms had been placed at nearly opposite ends of the track, in order of their placing in the championship race.

"AUDIENCE, PLEASE TAKE YOUR SEATS—THE RACES WILL BEGIN SHORTLY."

Remus thought he recognized the voice over the intercom as Peter's, but couldn't be sure. He soon forgot to care as the racers were instructed to mount their brooms and the whistle was blown.

Remus kicked off with everyone else, but something seemed to be holding him down. His broom wouldn't rise higher than five feet off the track, and whenever he tried to steer it upwards he would slow to almost a stop. There was no time to figure out what was wrong—the other racers were far ahead by now, and he quickly gave up trying to fly high. Leaning flat over his broom handle, Remus sped forward with his toes nearly scraping the asphalt.

By the fifth lap, Remus had slipped ahead of the slowest racers. Being so low to the ground had its advantages in that he generally wasn't noticed until he was already ahead, but once he'd gotten attention he quickly learned the dangers of having such limited freedom of movement.

Two large, aggressive racers who'd been battling for tenth place glared at Remus as he flew by below. They glanced at each other, nodded, and dove toward him. By the time he saw them coming he had nowhere to go except side-to-side. He swung to the left, then swerved suddenly right, depending on his broom's great balance and steering to pull him through the maneuver. It worked: the Meteor 360 offered no complaint and quickly straightened out as Remus pulled ahead of his attackers, who'd had to swerve to the sides to avoid hitting each other. One had been flying an old Comet model, and the broom simply wasn't up to the strain; he fishtailed out of his turn and slammed into the fence on the right side of the track. Remus didn't look back long enough to see if he'd managed to stay on his broom.

As he turned his attention forward once more, Remus caught sight of a falling racer just ahead of him. The kid was trying desperately to get control over his broom, but it was fishtailing madly and spinning full circles as he dropped. Forgetting about the strange force holding him to the ground, Remus guided his broom up and out of the way. But the Meteor immediately ground to a stop, nearly throwing its rider to the ground, as it flew too high. Remus pushed the broom's nose to the ground, trying desperately to dive out of the racer's way, but he was too late: the falling boy collided with him head-on, the front of his broom crashing into Remus' shoulder.

Remus had no time to register pain: they careened backwards from the force of the impact, and he could feel his feet dragging on the racetrack. He was going to hit the ground and be disqualified, just like last year…

"Shit!" he heard the other racer scream as his momentum carried him over Remus' head. He dropped his broom and toppled to the ground, rolling awkwardly in a vain attempt to soak up the rest of his speed.

Miraculously, Remus hadn't fallen off yet. He grabbed his opponent's broom to throw it out of his way so he could steer, and immediately dropped it to the ground with a yell of pain and surprise. His palm felt like it was on fire, and when he looked down he saw that it was scraped raw.

There was no time to worry about that now: the other racers had long since outstripped him, and he urged his broom to go faster in hopes of passing at least one of them. But the word FINAL was already burning red in the corner of his sunglasses, and he knew as he rounded the last bend that he stood no chance. Even as he raced down the straightaway, the last group of racers crossed the finish line.

Somehow this ceased to matter as Remus crossed the checkpoint. Already low to the ground, he slowed his broom and toppled off it. Now he could feel the pain from his crash, and it seemed as though his shoulder and chest would explode. Jesse and Sirius were at his side in a moment, kneeling next to him and talking fast. He couldn't understand a word that was being said, but then he was being lifted off the ground by two medi-witches, who carried him bodily into the racers' pit.

He felt like his chest was splitting apart. He moved his left arm but the collarbone screamed in protest and he nearly fainted. The medi-witches who'd carried him in carefully strapped his arms to the stretcher they'd set him down on, then did the same to his head and legs. He felt the bonds but didn't register what they meant, what they were for…everything was a blur of pain.

The pain suddenly intensified as a medi-witch poured cleansing potion over his shoulder and chest. They must have taken his shirt off: he could feel cold air blowing over the even colder potion as it wet his skin. In moments the hurt subsided, and the medi-witch poured the same treatment on his raw palm. This, too, stung horribly before going slightly numb.

As the pain disappeared Remus felt his head clear, and he looked around as best he could with his head strapped down. One of the medi-witches had been replaced by a wizard, and the other one he recognized as the same young woman who'd treated him before, when Silverbolt's broom had collided with his knuckles.

"What's your name?" she asked kindly when she saw him looking at her. He couldn't help noticing that she was beautiful, even in the simple medical robes she wore.

"I, um…" he mumbled, unsure of whether he should tell her the truth. There was a chance she still recognized him from before, and perhaps once she knew his real name she would report him and he'd be kicked out.

"I'm Alicia," she interrupted with a smile, saving him from having to respond.

"Nice to meet you," he said weakly. He suddenly felt very tired, and there was a peculiar throbbing in his shoulder and hand. "I feel slightly like shit," he slurred as his vision swam and his stomach lurched sickeningly.

"I thought you might," Alicia murmured softly, placing a cold hand on his chest. "Try to stay awake though, we'll need to ask you some questions in a minute."

"'Bout what?" Remus' voice was hoarse, and he couldn't seem to form the words correctly.

"About this," the medi-wizard cut in, leaning forward with a pair of tweezers. He tugged at something in Remus' chest, but the skin there was numb and the sensation very distant. The wizard held up a long silver splinter, dripping blood.

"Oh shit," Remus muttered, trying to focus. He was seeing triple and everything seemed to be spinning.

"This appears to be silver," the wizard continued, setting the splinter down on a tray of medical devices. "Now, how would silver have lodged itself in your body?" As he spoke, he handed the tweezers to Alicia. She carefully extracted more slivers and piled them onto the tray. Remus watched her work, wishing he could see the injury for himself.

The wizard unstrapped his limp arms and held up Remus' raw palm for him to see.

"How do you explain this particular injury?" the wizard asked sternly, pushing the bloody hand toward him. Now that it was closer, Remus could see fuzzy glints of silver in his hand.

"Fuckin' hurts," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. He clenched his fist, driving the silver deeper beneath the skin.

"What are you doing? Stop that!" the wizard said immediately, trying to pry his hand apart. But Remus was far stronger than the man; he was stronger than most men. "Stop—you're making this much worse than it has to be." Remus tightened his fist, feeling the shards dig into his fingers. Blood dripped down his arm. What a familiar sensation…as though his skin were crying blood…

Then the silver took its full effect, and Remus suddenly fell unconscious.

He came to feeling much the same as he had before, but with much clearer vision. He noticed almost immediately that the straps tying him down had been removed, and sat up quickly. His sudden movement startled Alicia, who was mixing some kind of potion on the counter.

"Oh!" she cried softly as he got to his feet. "No, please lie down, Mr. Lupin," she said firmly, regaining her composure quickly. "We're not finished with you here, but I assure you we're almost done and then you can go back to the school. Madame Pomfrey will be able to help you better than we can."

"Fuck it," Remus muttered. He looked around the room for his shirt, but it was gone. "Where's my shirt?" he asked angrily, glad to note that he was no longer slurring and hoarse.

"We threw it away. It was ruined."

"Nice," he growled, and strode from the room.

"Mr. Lupin!" Alicia called, hurrying to set her potion ingredients down to follow him. "Mr. Lupin, please—you can't leave yet, we'll take you to the school later."

Remus ignored her and looked around, trying to orient himself. He was in the hospital section of the racers' pit; he slipped past bloody and injured racers, and one whose hair looked like it had caught fire, and ran up to the track.

A race was in progress, and as he emerged on ground level three racers flew past him at a fairly low altitude. The wind from their slipstreams ruffled his hair and blew cold air on his bare chest. He shivered and moved to cross his arms, but his shoulder was stiff and refused to move that way.

For the first time Remus looked down at his chest to see the injury.

"Shit," he muttered. A wide, jagged hole had been torn across his chest, stretching from the breastbone all the way to the collarbone. It wasn't bleeding of course, but shards of silver still glinted here and there.

"That's gonna leave a mark," someone said derisively from above. Remus looked up to see Geoffrey leaning over the railing in the stands. "Your other scars just pale in comparison to mine," he sneered.

"That was you who crashed into me?" Remus hissed, turning to face Silverbolt completely.

"It was purely accidental, I will admit, but I can't say I'm not pleased with the results."

"You piece of shit—" Remus growled, and jumped to grab the railing Silverbolt leaned against. He held on with his right hand but couldn't summon the strength to pull himself up and over the metal rails, so he dropped back to the ground.

"Language, my little half-breed," Geoffrey scolded, stepping back slightly. "You can blame your girlfriend—she's the one who knocked my broom wild." His face changed from amused to angry, and he leaned over the railing to look Remus in the face. "She'll pay for that," he hissed. "No one disqualifies me. Of course, you'll be kicked out now that everyone knows, so that is some consolation…" He crouched so that his shoulders were level with Remus' head.

"Looks painful," he said quietly, staring with disgust at the jagged wound. "Your medi-witch missed a piece—" His hand shot out suddenly and he pressed his cold fingers against Remus' raw skin. Instead of yelling and backing away as Geoffrey had expected, Remus grabbed the boy's arm and pulled him forcefully against the railing.

"Touch me again and I'll rip your arm off," Remus growled, pulling steadily on Silverbolt's arm until the boy's face was pressed against the metal rails. He released him suddenly and walked along the edge of the track toward the main entrance, where there were usually Portkeys for sale. He paid for a large rock which would take him back to the Forbidden Forest, and was at the school in minutes.

He wanted to go straight to Gryffindor tower and go to sleep, but the wound in his chest was throbbing and he knew that would be dangerous. Visiting Madame Pomfrey was not at all what he wished to do at the moment as she would probably want to keep him overnight, but he had no other choice.

When he arrived at the hospital wing, Remus was shocked to see Alicia there, talking with Madame Pomfrey.

"What are you doing here?" he said stupidly. She shot him a friendly smile.

"Oh good. I was just here to tell Madame Pomfrey about you so she'd be ready when you got here." She nodded to the school nurse and began walking out, but stopped when she drew level with Remus. "You shouldn't have run off," she said quietly, and he was again struck by her beauty. She was close enough now that he could see the different colors in her hazel eyes. "We'd have treated you and taken you here. That was really dangerous."

"Yeah," he replied, unable to think of anything better. Alicia smiled, waved at Madame Pomfrey, and left.

"Young man, you are in for a world of hurt if you don't sit down on this bed right now," Pomfrey said loudly, pointing clearly to the bed nearest her. Remus chose not to put up a fight, his natural reaction to such annoying shows of authority, and sat uncomfortably on the hospital bed.

Ten minutes later the nurse had gathered her materials and begun to treat the wound on his chest.

"I'm afraid this won't heal properly on its own," she announced when the wound was clean and all traces of silver removed. Madame Pomfrey carefully applied a clear gel to all surfaces the silver had touched. "You're going to have to get stitches."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Remus said quickly. "Stitches is a Muggle thing, isn't it? I'm not going to need stitches, am I?"

"I just told you that," Pomfrey snapped. "Yes, it is a Muggle practice, but it's better than anything I can do for you right now. The best I can do is clean up these jagged edges, but that's not going to help with the healing."

"But I don't want stitches," Remus whined. "It's unnatural." He'd had stitches plenty of times as a child, when his injuries after a change were too deep to heal properly on their own.

"Unnatural but necessary," Pomfrey said firmly. "I've been trained in some Muggle forms of healing, I'll be able to do it myself." Somehow this was not a comfort.

"Remus!" Both nurse and patient looked up quickly to see Jesse standing in the doorway of the hospital wing, flanked on either side by Sirius, James, Peter, and Lily. Remus quickly leaned back so he'd be hidden by the draped around his bed, but by the sound of things he was too late for that.

"Please leave the hospital wing immediately," Pomfrey called out to the five teenagers. "Your friend is perfectly alright, he just needs to rest here—"

"Perfectly alright!" Jesse shrieked. "Are you daft?" She began running toward the bed, but the nurse held her back and forced her out of the room.

"I'm afraid this is a closed ward!" Pomfrey said, flustered, and shut the door in their faces.

"Those friends of yours are a menace!" she complained angrily, walking back to the bed. "No respect for authority…"

Remus chose not to anger her further and quietly submitted to continued treatment.