Rising
By Dimgwrthien
Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to the Harry Potter series or affiliates.
War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.
- John Stuart Mill
Remus woke to the sound of a humming murmuring around the soft bed. Opening his eyes, he saw white blankets nestled around his body. His arms felt too weak to push the cotton away, so he glanced over them.
A crowd of people walked around the room, talking to each other in low, worried voices, some holding bottles, others grasping hands of others in beds.
"Remus?" hissed a voice in his ear. Wincing from the sudden noise, Remus moved his head enough to see Hermione. Her appearance shocked him. The seventeen year old, already with a lanky scholars' body and a worried expression half the time, looked even more so. Her brow seemed permanently knitted in concern. Several scratches marred her face, ruining the pale skin.
"Good to see you, Hermione," he answered, feeling his throat scratch. She smiled at him, only slightly, eyes looking rather wet as she grabbed his limp hand.
"I'm glad you're alive," she managed, voice sounding rather choked. Remus just sighed and remained still, not wanting to move again. "The fight is over," she told him, biting the inside of her cheek for a moment.
Noticing her awkward expression, Remus quickly asked, "How is everyone?"
Her eyes trailed to the ground, not daring to look at his face. Remus could see the entire answer by her face. "We won," she whispered, voice flat. "But - but we lost some people." She started on the list, which seemed to go on for ages. Tonks went missing; no one could find a body, as with several Death Eaters. Every one assumed the Death Eaters went to Azkaban. Most of the deaths took place among the younger set of people: Neville, Luna, Fred, George, and others. Hermione seemed to know all of them perfectly well just off the top of her head. Some of them, the adults, Remus knew well himself. Charlie took a Killing Curse. Kingsley fell, though no one knew what curse did it.
"What happened to Harry?" Remus asked, noticing Hermione said nothing about him. "He's alive, by the way you're talking -"
At the mention of Harry, Hermione burst into tears. Remus sat up suddenly, letting Hermione move into him, holding his robes to her face and she continued to cry. Through the tears, Remus heard a whispered, "He's - alive -"
"Then there's nothing to worry about," Remus soothed, though Hermione's crying doubled there. He saw Madam Pomfrey stop and glance at them. Still holding the tray of potions in her hands, she edged near to Remus and whispered in his ear.
"You might want to see him for yourself."
Letting Hermione sit on the bed, Remus crawled out from under the sheets, feeling the cold air hit him like shards of glass. His clothing, somehow changed to pajamas, did not stop the air from brushing around his skin and giving him goose pimples.
Madam Pomfrey motioned to the direction of a bed surrounded in curtains. Remus slowly pulled the curtains back, the white fabric moving easily on the metal bars. He wished he had braced himself for it before.
Harry lie on the bed, green eyes open, breathing deeply. His skin did not remain, but only a charred remainder of flesh. Muscle showed through the broken fragments of skin, crackled and drying. His mouth moved for a moment before a word came out.
"Professor?" he asked, then stopped talking immediately, taking in large swallows of air as though speaking cost him all of his strength.
"Harry…" Remus could not force another word out. An exact model of James lie before him, burned beyond recognition. His hairline reached far behind, showing off more charred skin. "God, Harry -"
"It's not too bad," Harry whispered, the muscle around his lips stretching out of place. Remus soon realized it as a smile. "I guess I shouldn't have stayed so close to Voldemort when he died."
"I'm proud of you, Harry," Remus answered, clasping a hand to the unmarked shoulder. Harry smiled again, teeth showing. "We all are."
"Good."
They exchanged small talk until Remus could no longer bear to look at Harry on the bed, obviously in pain. He excused himself, lying that he should help the others heal, but it sounded too cheery to his own ears for Harry to believe. The boy merely nodded and closed his eyes again, breathing deeply.
The first person he saw in a bed was Ginny. Her red hair flared out around her face, creating a strange frame around the cheekbones Remus could see too clearly.
"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, bending down over her bed. She glanced at him, nodding. "No, you're now. What's wrong, Ginny?"
She just smiled, causing tears to run down her cheeks. Remus sat on the edge of the bed, taking her shoulders and letting her, just as Hermione did, cry on his shoulder.
"Harry asked me to marry him." She creaked out another smile, just a short one, before wiping her eyes.
Remus blinked. "I'm happy for you two."
"The only thing is, they just told me -" Ginny gulped and wiped her eyes even more frantically. "He'll be dead within days, if he even manages to live that long."
Remus' heart froze when he heard the words and numbness filled his chest and throat. Ginny seemed to notice his loosening grip and moved away from him, only slightly looking into his eyes.
"I - I still love him, though," she murmured. "We're getting married, and it's final."
Remus did not have the heart to tell Ginny that her short-lived marriage could only end in pain and agony. Her face had a light to it that Remus had not seen her with since before Voldemort's rising. Her smile looked genuine when she spoke about it.
"I'm glad," he managed, letting her burrow into his chest, almost hugging him. He patted her head slightly, allowing his fingers to comb out the knots in her hair from dirt during the battle.
"He couldn't have even asked an hour ago," she told him joyfully. Remus did not answer. "It's going to be a really small wedding, I think." Ginny looked Remus in the eye. "In fact, I suppose I'm already married to him now. There was never really a need for all of the ceremonies, was there?" she asked Remus. "It's about love."
After talking more with Ginny and untangling himself from her hugging grasp, Remus made his way to Madam Pomfrey, gently taking the tray from her hands and following her around, letting her hands work twice as fast. It seemed amazing, how many people needed healing after the war. Remus recognized most of the faces, and he knew he could recognize the others if it had not been for the scars marring half of their faces like with Hermione.
He knew nothing of Tonks' current state. No matter whom he asked, every answered the same: We haven't seen her. His heart sunk lower and lower into his stomach until he reached Sturgis Podmore.
Azkaban, even in a six month dose and no more, did nothing to help the man. His eyes looked sunken and laced with fright constantly and his hair hung lank around his face, starting to grey early. "I think she's dead, mate," he answered quietly as he joined Remus is walking around the help the others. "I'm sorry." He left soon after to walk around in the opposite direction of Remus.
His heart rose slightly, though he still felt dead. At least she could not be suffering anymore. He would have preferred having her alive. He never had the chance to really speak to her. For the past year, they continued seeing each other, though it never seemed like enough. At least her hair returned to pink, though.
To distract himself from thinking anymore about Tonks and everyone who died on the battlefield, he walked up to Madam Pomfrey, asking her in a hushed voice, "How long does Harry have?" It did not seem like much of an improvement from his previous thoughts. Ginny only said a few days. He did not want to find Harry's death a surprise.
The tired woman's bitter laugh died shortly after leaving her lips. "I wouldn't have even thought this long." Biting her lip, she answered very slowly, "Remus, don't expect more than a day or two, and that's if he's lucky. His skin would be impossible to fix without it either being less work or with a sooner timeframe, but we missed that by far."
The worst could always be expected. Remus nodded once, but Madam Pomfrey seemed to see the words before they even formed.
"At least we won the war, Remus," she whispered. "I think that's all that mattered to him."
Remus wanted to argue. Winning the war was not the only thing Harry cared about in his life. He cared about Quidditch and Ginny and the Weasleys and Hermione and -
Shaking his head, Remus continued to follow her around, carrying the tray in his arms. If Harry had only been found sooner….
"Oi! Remus?" came a voice from his side. Remus turned to find Ron standing near a wall, leaning on it for support. Two black eyes made his face easy to see. He leaned heavily on one crutch, too, and reached out with an arm, then took a cautious step forward. "Is that you?"
Remus glanced into the blue eyes for a moment and answered slowly, "Yes."
Ron's face lit up. "Glad I found you. Is Hermione anywhere around here?"
Glancing to the side, Remus saw Hermione standing not even ten feet away. At the mention of her name, she turned and glanced at the two. She seemed to understand what happened, so she slowly walked forward.
"She's next to you, Ron," he answered. "Are you feeling alright?"
"He was hit by some curse. We can't discover which one to heal with yet. He's blind," Hermione murmured, reached up and rubbing Ron's shoulder. His face turned towards her and he smiled.
Feeling rather idiotic, Remus just nodded. "I'm sorry, Ron. No idea what it was?"
"No," he answered. Shrugging, he added, "It's not bad, either. Most likely permanent, but at least -" He broke off.
"You can't see Harry," Remus whispered numbly.
Ron gave a half-shrug as though ashamed to admit it. "It's rude, but it's true."
"It's understandable. No one wants to see Harry in that much pain. Have you spoken to him?"
"Of course," Ron answered. "He told me about what happened at the end of the war. I couldn't see anything, I could only hear." His face whitened. "What does he look like? What happened to him?"
Glancing at Hermione, Remus silently asked her how much he could tell Ron. She answered for him. "He's doing fine, Ron. Don't worry now. Everything will sort itself out in the end."
He just nodded, brow furrowed. Hermione led him away again, giving Remus a quick look that told him to stay still. She returned after leaving Ron with Ginny.
"I don't want to be the one to tell him," she muttered, walking with Remus to the doors at the end of the room. It seemed crowded inside, and the cool air that hit their faces once outside seemed refreshing. "I mean, how can you tell a person that their best friend is…"
Remus nodded, glancing at the soft layer of snow starting to cover the ground. Still early in the year, he knew the weather would slowly become colder. He wished he had brought a cloak with him but realized that the only one there would be was the one he wore during the battle, which had to be bloodstained and torn beyond recognition.
"I think we should just wait a while with Ron. He'll have to find out eventually, right?" Hermione asked. Her voice sounded weak and thin, unsure of what to say next. "Even if it's too late then."
"We should wait a few days at least," Remus answered, staring at the tops of the trees that drifted closer into his view.
He refused to mention that this was not a choice made by the chance that Ron would discover the truth himself, but a false sort of hope that Harry would recover. It seemed selfish to him; Harry was the only person he really had left. Everyone already died or slowly started their journey to death inside that room. He heard nothing of Severus, who seemed to have crawled his way back to their side during the battle rather than before. Tonks was dead for sure. It seemed impossible that she could last long with whoever had her.
Hermione leaned into Remus and he felt the cold, pale skin on his arm. One of her arms wrapped around the nearest arm and he could see clearly that she had started to cry again.
"Nothing's changed!" she stormed, kicking a small amount of snow from the ground, causing small flakes to drift back to the ground. "The war is over, but everything's worse! Have you seen anything outside of the castle lately?"
Remus shook his head, trying to remember even hearing of some sort of news. Hermione glanced at him, and then said, "Oh! You've been unconscious for the past day or two. I forgot. Anyway - I've gotten to go outside a few times and read through the newspaper, or the amount of one still being printed. Everything is a disaster area. People are panicking now more than when Voldemort had actually been alive." She snorted sourly. "There's no more organization. The Ministry is run ragged with all of the Dark Marks appearing. I have no clue how they're doing it. Why would the Death Eaters keep killing people for Voldemort if he's gone?"
It took Remus all of his self-control to not point out how the first war ended. Hermione was too young, he reminded himself. She had no clue of the deaths that happened even so long after the end. They never really ended; they only drifted on into the second war.
"Are you feeling alright?" Hermione asked. Remus started and saw her staring him down as he stared off into space. "You took a beating during the war."
Remus shrugged, shivering slightly in the cold. Hermione smiled slightly. "You can't remember a thing, can you?" When Remus shook his head, she answered, "We guessed so. I think you had a Memory Charm or two on you. Not too strong of ones, of course. Just enough to act as a stun." Her smile seemed pressed as she finished. "I think we got lucky. Neither of us is going to suffer long-term problems. The others… Have you spoken to Professor Snape lately?"
Shaking his head, Remus remembered how he had wondered about the Potions Mater's health. "What happened to him?" Whatever it was, he deserved it.
"Got hit by a Severing Charm or something in the back. Didn't get to the skin, really, only faintly. I think it cut something in his spine, though, because we can't get his legs to move at all. It'll be like that forever, we think."
Remus regretted his ill thoughts towards the man. "No chance of recovery?"
Hermione shook her head. "Greyback - that werewolf - took Bill on for a while, too. Seemed to want to finish his work from last year…. After he finished with you, at least."
Cocking his head, Remus asked, "Finishing with me?"
Raising her eyebrows, Hermione stared at him. "He was trying to kill you half of the battle, I think. Almost did, really." She motioned to his arm. Remus glanced and saw bandages lining his arm and half of his torso that had not caught his eye before.
"I didn't see that," he murmured, raising his sleeve. All of his skin that had not been covered with the white linen looked rather purple and green, puffy angrily.
"It'll be healed soon," Hermione answered. "You managed to get him off before long. I think he died at some point. Malfoy misaimed a spell or something and Greyback was hit by it. It's all going downhill, I think. Too many deaths still going on, as if the casualties weren't enough for them."
They reached the forest at last and Hermione peered through the branches before turning around. "It looks so empty. Even Centaurs suffered some deaths from it. We're just dragging everyone into it. It's all our faults."
"It's not all of our faults, Hermione," Remus answered sternly. "It's Voldemort's fault. He started all of this in the first place."
Hermione did not answer, but murmured something about being cold. Remus led her back to the front hall of the school, the welcoming warmth spreading over their cold bodies. Hermione smiled at him, a thin-lipped smile that said nothing of her thoughts, and walked to the Gryffindor Tower where she said some people decided to sit around rather than in the stuffy hospital.
Remus left her at the staircase and found himself wandering off down another set of stairs to the dungeons. He did not know why he chose the path, but soon found someone else sitting down there.
A faint light came from the crack under a door. Remus walked over, placing an ear near the door, listening for any sort of noise. Only a faint buzzing could be heard.
Knocking, Remus found the buzzing sound to stop only a moment later, along with the sound of someone placing something down.
"Who's there?" asked a grumpy voice. Remus responded with his name and found the voice reply, even more grudgingly, "Come in."
Severus Snape sat on a bed, legs stretched out before him, a small book in one hand. Remus saw the remnants of spilled ink on the hands that held the book and smiled. The buzzing sound sounded familiar now - Muffliato.
"What do you want, Lupin?" Severus asked, giving Remus a cold glare.
"I heard you were injured," Remus replied lightly, glancing at the man. He could tell Severus wanted to stand up and wring his throat. There is one good side to this.
"I thought that would be obvious," Severus snapped, pressing his lips together in an angry line. "I was not with the rest of them, was I?"
"Are you feeling alright?" Remus asked, lightening his voice, hoping Severus would give him a chance to stay for a while. No one in the hospital that he could speak to felt the same as Severus. The man may have been injured as the rest of them were, but Severus made it sound like a temporary delay in life.
"Of course," he answered, grinding his teeth together. "I thought that would be obvious, too. Otherwise, I would not be speaking to you and instead try to heal myself."
"Good."
"What - do - you - want?" Severus asked again.
Remus shook his head slightly, leaning on the door. "Everyone else in unconscious right now and… it's lonely up there."
"Don't you have that wretched Metamorphagus woman to speak to? You seem unusually fond of her, even though, may I remind you, she is thirteen years your junior."
Remus could only guess that Severus read everything he wanted to say in the way his head tilted up only slightly but his eyes stayed down.
Severus' mouth closed again, and then opened, looking shocked. "Is she -?"
"She's missing. Possibly even dead. No one could find her anywhere after the battle."
Severus glanced down at the book in his hands. "At least now you won't be thinking perverted thoughts about a child."
Remus felt his jaw snap slightly as he restrained himself from yelling. "I suppose I could not think anything better of your thoughts," he replied coldly. "You are not the type to bother thinking of anyone other than yourself for a change."
Remus turned to leave, but heard Severus call after him, "Lupin!" When he stopped, hand on the door handle, Severus murmured, "Stay."
"I'm not a dog to be ordered around, contrary to your opinion." Remus felt his anger boil a bit as he answered.
"You're - I'm - I apologize," Severus muttered. Remus felt as though he lapsed into permanent shock. Severus apologizing? "She did not deserve it. I know she's alive, however."
"How?" Remus turned back to Severus. Even if the man acted like a prat, he knew things Remus would otherwise never hear of.
"The Dark Lord commanded that, during anymore battles, to never kill the ones with… special abilities. That included you, Black, Nymphadora -"
"They killed Sirius anyway," Remus hissed, his anger starting to rise again.
Severus shook his head. "Bellatrix was not rewarded for that at all, let me tell you. The Dark Lord was very disappointed. As much as I hated Black, he… his ability could have aided us - them."
"Am how would I have?" Remus asked sourly. "Being a werewolf is not something that acts as a good minion tool."
"The Dark Lord was attracted to blood-thirsty beasts, in case Greyback did not already prove that," Severus muttered. He caught Remus' eye and added, "That was not the entire ability. You could have made the perfect spy. You can perform Legilimency, am I right? Not as skillful as Occlumency, but still a skill he values. No one would ever suspect you, either. You seem too loyal to Dumbledore."
"I still am," Remus responded, looking down at Severus. The book in the dark-haired man's hands moved as he toyed around with the cover. "What is it with that book, anyway?"
"It's something to write it," Severus answered in a tone that indicated his refusal to mention anything more of it.
"I could guess that," Remus muttered.
"How is Potter, the ungrateful - How's Potter?"
"It's Harry," Remus told him, frowning. "Honestly. I would have thought being his teacher for six years would allow you the ability to refer to him by his proper name."
"You're not answering my question. How is the boy?"
Remus bit his lip before answering. It felt final to mention it again. If he could have lied about it to assure Harry's life, he would have. "He'll be dead by the end of the few days' time."
"What happened?" Severus asked, using his arms to prop himself up more, looking urgently at Remus' face.
"I've only seen him. I don't know how it happened, but half of his body is rather… burned up."
Severus swore, glancing at the opposite wall for a moment. Remus did not see any sign of sadness from Severus, but severe disappointment.
"What?" he asked rudely.
"The Dark Lord had to of…" Severus shook his head. "Just a horrid way to go."
Remus wondered whether he spoke of Voldemort of Harry, and could only answer, "Personally, I think any death would be too good for him. He's a murderer."
"Even a murderer could have died more peacefully. I'm guessing he caught on fire before dying."
"I said I don't know," Remus answered, leaning on the door again. "I was unconscious then, too. I think almost everyone was."
Severus nodded. "Who else died?"
"Plenty of people," Remus whispered, his eyes trailing back to the ground. He did not want to talk about the casualties right then. It still seemed too raw. "Mainly students. They fought our war for us. Barely any of the Order fell."
It was a lie. One death was enough to count as too many. Severus seemed to understand, however. He just nodded again and opened the small book. Grabbing a quill, he jotted down something quickly.
"What are you writing in there?" Remus asked again. Severus did not look up until he finished writing.
"If I told you it was a recording of my life, would you accept it?" Severus muttered sarcastically.
"Fine," Remus answered. "You can go with that and I'll believe you. It's just that you had a spell on the door so that no one could hear in. It's not as though we can hear you write, Severus."
He paled, though seemed to regain his composure flawlessly. "I wanted to read it aloud to see how it sounded."
"I heard stories about Quirrel being here a few years ago. He had Voldemort on the back of his head and spoke to him. I'm hoping you don't have anything equally bad under your hair." Remus smiled as he spoke, giving Severus a joking look.
Severus did not answer, but closed the book, laying the quill down next to the inkbottle.
"I would like to speak to Minerva," he said slowly, "if she's anywhere around."
"I'll try to find her. I can't make any promises, though," Remus answered, leaving silently.