It was early afternoon the next day when Remus entered the ward with a book in his hands. He was walking slowly and cautiously, but without the help of crutches.
'Hi, Severus.'
'Good afternoon, Remus. You are making fast progress, I dare say!'
'Progress!' he snorted indignantly. 'Just when I had managed to walk more or less free of pain, they took away my crutches. These healers are cruel, believe me.'
'Don't tell me.'
'Well. You haven't been what one would call a "model patient" in the past,' Remus remarked while he sat down on the chair next to Severus' bed carefully.
'Yes, I have to admit that considering my history with this institution my record isn't exactly clean, but come to think of it: does it have something to do with me having a "red file" as the nurse said yesterday?'
'Yes, unfortunately. But never mind. I've got one, too. As a werewolf, you would have this so called 'red patient file' anyway, because as such, you are considered potentially dangerous at all times. The only difference is that you had it before.' Remus shrugged his shoulders.
'Here you are. This is your personal copy.' He handed Severus the much worn book, of which the faded title read 'Code of Conduct for Werewolves in Britain'.
'I hope you don't mind that it isn't a new one. As you can easily guess, the Ministry doesn't spend more money on werewolves than necessary. This was the best copy my colleagues at the office were able to get from all the second hand ones.'
'Second hand? I believe there have been quite a few owners before me.' Severus remarked while he was taking a closer look of it. There were several names written on the flyleaf, some accompanied by comments, such as: "Amanda Biggins, who didn't read a line of this rubbish", and "Romuald Clarence, who did read this book, and if Amanda had, she wouldn't have died such a cruel death so early", or "Arthur Bernardo, I did not read it and am still alive. Nobody should bother reading it, because as a werewolf you'll never win" and so on.
'Sounds promising,' Severus commented drily.
'I know. But before I leave you to this highly entertaining reading, there is something else I have to tell you.'
'Yes?' Severus stopped looking at the book and let it drop onto the blankets.
'Harry saw me this morning and told me that Hermione visited him in his office yesterday. She sends her regards and wishes you well, but she also asks us - and this is meant to be an official order - to keep out of anything which has remotely to do with spying upon criminal Muggles in the future.'
Severus snorted. 'Oh, that won't be a problem. Believe me, I have certainly had enough of that and no desire to experience similar scenarios. Do you?'
'No.' Remus sighed.
'What has Hermione to do with this? Did you meet her?'
'No. She only came to see Harry. It has been over a year since I've met her. Naturally, with her job at the Department of Mysteries she has to lead a very secret life. If you can call that a life, which I doubt. I don't think it's good for her, doing this work, when you can't really have a family or see friends regularly.'
'At least not for a lifetime. But they depend on brilliant minds like hers at the Ministry. So it seems she got involved in our case?'
'Yes, we are quite lucky. That way she was able to manage that there won't be too many questions in the end. I think she was also responsible for the group who cleaned the cellar in that house and altered the memories of the Muggles we met.'
'Indeed. What of them? Were they caught? Is there any proof they were engaged in anything against the magical world?' Severus asked, now really curious about this subject, although he would rather forget about this horrible night.
'Oh, as far as I know, they were just plain drug dealers. Muggle drugs, nothing magical.'
'So everything we did was not only highly unprofessional, dangerous and careless beyond description, not to forget stupid, but also in vain?' Severus asked, his face showing disbelief and disappointment at the same time.
'I am afraid so.' Rmus nodded sadly. 'But for Muggle standards they were still dangerous criminals, so the Magical Law Enforcement Department made sure they were detected by Muggle police in the end to get them arrested.'
'Good to hear. That's at least something. So they didn't have any idea that we were wizards?'
'No, I don't think so. But even if they did, their memories were altered.'
Severus nodded in appreciation and began to leaf through the pages of his book again.
'Let's see what interesting information this is going to give me. … "No werewolf is allowed to" … hang on, what !?! … "to mate while the period of the full moon lasts" …' Severus' face reflected pure disgust. 'Revolting! Now, I ask you! Who would do a thing like that?'
'Surely, you are not that naïve, Severus, are you? I told you that there are werewolves who feel so excluded from wizarding society that they have begun to create their own understanding of what's right or wrong. They create their own world, feel themselves kind of special. To have a werewolf child would be a natural consequence, I believe.'
'But to do that to a child, knowingly!' Severus objected indignantly. 'Well I know, in my past I have met more than one person with monstruous ideas, but still … '
'Yes, I know. But I assure you, most of the werewolves are quite normal. As normal as you can be, I mean, like you and me.' Remus laughed a bit unsure of himself. 'The important thing with having children as a werewolf parent is, though - and you should know that, although I don't know if you are planning to start a family … anyway - the important thing is, that if the father is a werewolf, it doesn't matter, the condition will not be transferred, unless it's on a full moon, of course. But if the mother is the werewolf, it has to be prevented by all means that she gives birth on a full moon. But that can easily be managed in hospital.'
'Indeed, I wasn't planning on founding a family, but thank you for the information anyway. So they do allow our kind to have children?'
'Yes, but most of us live single, especially if you have been a werewolf from childhood on. As you can easily imagine, it's not easy to build up relationships and if you had one and get lycanthropy as an adult, well, most relationships break up.' Remus looked very sad now, but his expression didn't give away any information if or how often he had experienced what he had just described in gloomy colours.
'Have you got any more questions, Severus?'
'No, thank you. I think I'll just be happy with reading this for some time.'
'Good. I'll see you tomorrow then.'
When Remus had left, Severus turned his attention back to the book and began to read. After a while, he found out that apart from the shocking paragraph he had come upon first, it wasn't very exciting. Basically, all rules discussed in it could also be applied to all wizards, not only werewolves. It included a broad variety of things wizards were not allowed by law, such as Muggle baiting, the misuse of Muggle artefacts or the uncontrolled breeding of dangerous magical animals, to name only a few. From what he read between the lines, though, and from what he knew from experience, it seemed that the only difference between normal wizards and werewolves was, that they were punished harder when they broke one of these laws. Somehow, he wasn't surprised by this discovery.
Somewhere between the 320th and 321st "Werewolves must not …" he became so tired that he couldn't help falling asleep.
---------------
It felt strange when he closed the door of his flat behind him. It struck him at once that he didn't feel like coming home as he used to most of the time he had been living here. After he had - at least partly - accepted that he had to live as a Muggle and had rearranged his life to the circumstances he had come to like this flat and the things in it. The furniture, the music, everything he had bought himself. It was part of his new personality. Every evening when he came home from work he felt secure when he entered his flat and enjoyed relaxing here.
This was definitely different now. It was as if he did not belong here anymore. As if he was a stranger, visiting a Muggle flat. He felt that he should start a new life very soon, move house into a new environment where he could live safely as a wizard. But would he really be able to change his life again totally? Don't forget, Severus, he reminded himself, you are a werewolf. If changing from a wizarding life - which in his case had been complicated enough - to the Muggle world had been quite an ordeal, living as a werewolf would even be harder.
Damn. He didn't want to think of it, not in the last weeks he had before his first transformation. He had decided that it wouldn't do him any good, thinking of his condition day and night. He would have rather forgotten about it for the time being. The next full moon would come early enough, and he had Remus within reach if he came upon any questions.
Remus had visited him yesterday and this morning, before the healers had given their consent to let him go. He had even offered to stay with him or have Severus stay at Remus' place, which, as Remus had told him, he had done quite often for other werewolves. In that respect Remus' flat seemed to serve as a werewolf sanctuary in times of need. Well, if it got too bad, he could still ask Remus for help, but for now he preferred to be on his own. Try to live on as normal as possible. Maybe he had been a bit harsh when he had declined Remus' offer, and maybe Remus was right. He was the one with years of experience with lycanthropy - his and that of others, and what catastrophies could arise out of this much despised condition.
As he wandered through the rooms he noticed that they were well aired. Remus had told him that Harry had managed to send some house elves from the Ministry to look after his flat. That had been very thoughtful, because it had spared him to get into contact with his Muggle neighbours, which would have been accompanied by uncomfortable questions and much explanations. When he reached the kitchen and went to check the fridge and its contents he was positively astonished that the elves had also seen to that. It was not only well filled but contained only food he liked, and things which would have gone off by the time had been thrown away.
That way, Severus was able to prepare himself a small evening meal, consisting of bread, cheese and salad. He made himself comfortable in front of the television to eat it.
After some time, he became so tired that he was sure he wouldn't even make it to the 9 'o clock news. The healers had warned him that he would probably feel quite tired for the rest of the time before his first transformation. He was glad about that, actually. Back in hospital, he hadn't had any problems with sleeping, but now at home, this could have been different. So he changed quickly for the night and went into bed. As he had hoped for, sleep came quickly.
---
He was running. Running fast but he wasn't hitting the ground. He wasn't fleeing from a werewolf, no, he himself was running on four legs. In front of him there was a small group of people, obviously running from him. This time, he was the beast. He didn't want to harm them, but he couldn't help running after them. He wanted to shout that they needn't be afraid because he wouldn't bite … but, … could he be sure about that? The longer he ran, the stronger the desire to run and to catch them became. From there, to bite and kill would only be a small step.
'You haven't taken the wolfsbane potion, Severus! It's your fault! Your fault alone! You will kill at least one of them!' these thoughts crossed his mind while he was running and becoming faster. The distance between him and the people - he could see that there were a few children amongst them - got smaller. It would only be a question of seconds that he got to them. No! He didn't want to do this, but he wasn't able to stop or even to slow down. A strange force was pulling him. There was no way, he would be upon them in a few seconds.
When he saw the aurors with their crossbows in the distance, it came as a relief. If they killed him, he wouldn't be forced to realize what he had done in the morning. They might even be able to stop him before…
The sudden sharp pain in his left shoulder convinced him that he had been shot. As well, this was it. He hadn't harmed anybody and would never have the chance to do that as a werewolf. He did indeed slow down now and finally collapsed. He welcomed the thought and didn't mind the fact that it would mean that he would die in a few minutes time.
He didn't, though. When he opened his eyes, it was dark because there was no full moon to give light to the scene in his bedroom. Severus was bewildered and checked his shoulder to find that he had hit the nightstand in his reaction to this disturbing dream.
He was shivering. His nightshirt was soaked in sweat and his heart was beating like mad. Somehow, somewhere in the back of his mind he had dreaded that. He had feared that there would still be nightmares. Not the same ones, though. And somehow he had also hoped that there wouldn't be any more of them. That with him being one of the beasts he feared so much, there would be no need to dream of them anymore.
Did you really think that, Severus? You should have known better, he told himself. But how could he have foreseen that the dream would change in that way? This was unfair, truly unfair. He sighed. Now he had experienced for the first time what most other werewolves feared during their whole life: to lose control over the beast and harm other people.
It was no use sitting in bed with his wet nightshirt. He got up to have a hot shower and changed into a fresh nightshirt. Afterwards he fell back on his proven remedy of drinking hot chocolate, but it didn't send him to sleep this time. He lay awake for the rest of the night until morning dawned.
He wouldn't have slept anyway, being not too keen on having another dream of that kind the same night. While he was lying there, he watched the half moon through a gap of the curtains. This was certainly a bad start of the whole thing. He had thought, or better promised himself, to go through this with all the determination he could muster, and alone. He didn't want to run crying to Remus at the first difficulty. Well, the other werewolf was responsible for him and would certainly understand, but Severus was bend on coping with his condition, and with as little help from others as possible. He had to cope for the rest of his life, hadn't he? So he had better start to arrange with his lycanthropy right from the beginning. And he would, he damn would. He could still go and ask Remus for help later, if the problems didn't cease, but not immediately.
To put this decision into action, he got up, went through his bathroom routine, had his usual breakfast, consisting of cereal, tea and toast. He even had his newspaper and could have read the issues of the past weeks as well if he had wanted to, as the house elves who had looked after his flat hadn't thrown them away but piled them up neatly. After breakfast, he continued to keep up his daily routine. As he was still on sick leave he couldn't go to work. Being so boring, that wouldn't have the desired effect of distracting him anyway. Except from work there was another thing he could do and that was shopping. Despite a well filled fridge he could still refill his stocks, and who knew, maybe he would invite some people he knew, one day, perhaps. Therefore it would be good to have some variety of food things.
It was late afternoon when he finally returned home. He had spent all morning with buying vegetables, tinned food, fish and meat and had had lunch in a small café near his flat. After that he had brought his shopping home, but had quickly left again for a walk in a park he had come to like. Being winter, the sun was to set early and it was quite cold, so after two hours of vigorous walking he returned to the warmth of his flat. But it was not only the cold which was driving him back. He had found that while walking, his mind had started wandering around and he had unavoidably ended up thinking about the obvious.
He decided that being busy would definitely be better. Therefore he chose a ridiculously complicated recipy from a cookbook, which turned out to be so extravagant that any person in charge of cooking who was right in her or his mind would have thrown it into the bin. But not Severus. He was glad that he had found something that was remotely demanding enough to keep his mind busy. If it would taste nice in the end, even better, if not well … he wasn't hungry anyway.
It did, though. He ended up with so much salad, three different ones, in fact, that he had enough to give some to Mrs Forrester who was pleased to see her neighbour again. That way, Severus had the opportunity to tell her a story of having had a bad bout of influenza and had ended up in hospital.
Having eaten, Severus saw to it that he took extra long time to clean up the kitchen and store away the rest of the food he had bought. He than read a bit in the old newspapers while he had a herbal tea for the night. But that was about all to stretch the time before going into bed, and he was really tired by now. Before he went into the bathroom he opened all windows to get fresh air into his flat. If all those preparations weren't going to help him to a sound sleep, he wouldn't know what else to do. Before he finally went to bed, after he had found the rooms well aired, he closed all windows except the one in his bedroom which he left open a few inches. This was no new invention of him. Sleeping in cool air was something which had always done him good. It seemed that it worked well, because he fell asleep easily, hoping not to experience what he was afraid of.
But it didn't. When he woke, the picture which remained from his last dream, was painfully clear in his mind. It would have needed only a few seconds and he would have had the little boy by his throat.
Again, his nightshirt was soaked in sweat and clung to his body. He pulled the blankets close around him, but that didn't make him warmer. The cool air which came from the window didn't feel pleasant anymore, but was like a threat, freezing him to the bone. This time, he didn't have the nerve to get up and get changed. Shuddering, he pulled the blankets even closer. He remained sitting in bed to prevent him from falling asleep while he waited for the morning light.
This uncomfortable position didn't have the desired effect, because when the sun rose, he woke from a short and not very restful sleep with a stiff neck. This and the fact that everybody has to use the bathroom from time to time, drove him out of bed and under a hot shower. It helped to drive away the stiffness a bit, but didn't really warm him through. Severus felt as if he had been in cold water too long. The procedure hadn't raised his appetite either. Therefore, an hour later, he found himself stirring listlessly in a bowl of cornflakes which had gone soggy by the time.
Disheartened by the failure of yesterday's strategy he didn't see any point of repeating the shopping tour and this "keeping busy and pretending everything is as always"-thing. But staying at home and waiting for the next night wasn't an option, as he soon found out after having tried to read or to watch television. He was neither able to concentrate enough nor to relax sufficiently to listen to his favourite CDs.
After pacing through his rooms for some time, he found that physical activity would be the only means to prevent him from running up the walls in despair and decided to go out for a walk again. Having left his flat he ended up roaming London on foot for hours, this time without a tea break.
When he came home, he still wasn't hungry. To warm himself up he only brewed a tea, but he drank only half a mug and let the rest go cold. Again, he tried to busy himself with different activities, but he wasn't able to sit still for long, so after having tried to read in the newspaper or some of his favourite books several times, and after trying out some of his CDs again, he gave up and decided to go to bed after all. If there was another nightmare waiting for him, it would be unavoidable and he would experience it anyway.
Therefore he finally went to bed, awaiting the unavoidable with his heart speeding up and the unhappy thought that he had given up fairly soon. After two nights, already forgotten what he had sworn himself, to fight through this. How disappointing. At other times he would probably have resorted to sleeping potions. But they were not meant to be used permanently, had side effects, and some, taken over a long period of time even caused nightmares themselves.
He couldn't remember being that afraid in his whole life before. One should think he had experienced similar horrors, but those had been kind of predictable, even at times when he had been near death. In most cases he had been responsible for the situation, had the control - or that was at least what he had made believe himself. He had known what he was doing and why he was doing it. And he could have given up his spying job any moment, if he had felt it becoming too dangerous, theoretically. That was at least what Dumbledore had always offered him: to back out. This was very different now.
When he woke up in the middle of the night as already expected, having experienced another unbidden werewolf self who, this time, had bitten. The taste of blood he had in his mouth was so genuine that he had to vomit right there on the beedsheets. As the energy to clean up was lacking him, he went to the sitting room, grabbed another blanket and crawled into a corner of the sofa. That was it. I'll ring up Remus in the morning, he thought. He was so desperate that he would have liked to ring him immediately, but the last bit of dignity he had in him prevented that. He didn't want to go to the other werewolf whining. In the morning, things would look less gloomy and he would have enough time to think about what to tell Remus while he was sitting and waiting for the sun to rise.
-----
He needn't have worried about any proceedings, especially how to hide his desparation from the werewolf, because around eight 'o clock, when it was still dark, his doorbell rang and Severus opened the door to a very concerned looking Remus.
'I should've known that something was wrong. You look horrible, Severus! As I haven't heard from you the last two days I thought I would come round on my way to work to see if everything is alright. It's quite obvious that it isn't. What's wrong, Severus? Why didn't you phone me?'
Severus had remained standing in the doorway staring at the other werewolf, leaving Remus standing outside in the corridor.
'Can I come in?'
'I was planning to do that.'
'What?' Remus looked confused, especially since Severus was still blocking the door.
'Ring you up. I wanted to, right now. In the morning.'
'Well, if you have a problem you want to tell me, shouldn't we better discuss that inside?' Remus tried carefully, not quite sure what to make of Severus' strange behaviour.
'I… Sorry, Remus. Come in.'
He finally stepped aside and let the other werewolf in. After having closed the door, he lead the way to the kitchen.
'Nice place,' Remus commented after having had a quick look while they passed the other rooms.
'Yes. Well, it's nothing special.'
'You live in a Muggle surrounding as well, don't you?' Severus enquired, glad to have found a subject to talk about, apart from his problem. That way it would hopefully be a bit easier to speak to Remus about all that was bothering him.
'Yes, but it's not so modern, rather … how shall I put it … a bit run down? Though regarding my landlady, we are living in a posh quarter there.' He snorted and shrugged his shoulders. 'Her way to see it, and a reason to raise the rent frequently, of course. No use to argue about it either.'
'Have you got a lot of contact with the Muggles in your house?'
'Not that much, really. I am away a lot and most of the time they are at work as well, of course. But we do talk. I don't go to any Halloween parties, though,' Remus grinned at Severus. 'Not that there are any, as far as I know at least.'
Severus indicated a chair to Remus to sit down at the table and Remus followed this invitation only too gladly.
'Would you like some tea?' Severus asked and scolded himself for acting so formal. That way he would never find a way to talk to Remus about his problems openly.
'Yes, thanks,'Remus answered. His face showed much anticipation, obviously waiting for Severus to start to talk.
While he was preparing the tea he heard a low rumbling sound behind him which, Severus guessed, if he wasn't much mistaken, would have been Remus stomach.
'Did you have any breakfast, Severus?'
'No, and I am not going to.' Severus had turned around aprubtly. 'If you want to talk me into eating, because of all this werewolf rubbish about having to eat regularly …' he began quite aggressively - he didn't know why, because Remus hadn't done anything to him, but somehow he felt in a position where he had to defend himself.
'No no, Severus. It's ok,' Remus held his hands up as if to calm the other werewolf down. 'I will do no such thing. No need to react that way, is there? I am only asking because I didn't have any and I am starving. I could do with a toast or two, actually.'
He regarded Severus in a peculiar way, as if he wanted to size him up and conclude from his reaction his further behaviour.
'Yes sure.' Severus turned back to continue with his breakfast prepartions.
'Severus, there is nothing wrong with needing help, you know. But you have to let me. I can't do anything for you if you don't tell me what happened and what you want me to do.'
Severus took a deep breath. Better to begin right away and to tell him. He remained standing and crossed his arms over his chest.
'I … I don't think I will be able to stand being in this flat on my own any longer. You and the healers at St. Mungo's were right, of course. I shouldn't have stayed on my own.'
He paused and turned to give Remus a mug full of tea and a plate with toast.
'Thank you.' Remus looked at him searchingly. 'It's nightmares again, isn't it?'
Severus mind was obviously quite easy to read, even without Legilimency. 'Yes. But they are different this time. I am the beast and I … bite … people.'
Severus hardly dare to speak the last words out loud. He looked at Remus, waiting for an answer, for some help.
Remus shrugged his shoulders. 'I am no therapist, Severus, but it clearly shows that because of your condition, you fear to harm other people.'
Severus, who was beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable during this conversation, was disappointed by Remus' statement.
'Oh yes? Great!' I could have guessed that myself easily. Isn't there anything else you can tell me?' he snapped.
Remus ignored Severus' behaviour and continued indifferently.
'As I have suggested before, you can stay at my place. Change of place, perspective, meet new people … Maybe that is going to help.'
Severus was unnerved and slammed his fist on the table.
'As simple as that! Yes? But you aren't even sure, Remus. And there I thought you were the expert in this field.' Severus was unnverved.
Remus, on the other hand, seemed to have expected this and stayed calm, but was looking still very seriously. Severus wondered if he had to deal often with people who were difficult like him. The werewolf social worker continued unmoved.
'I am sorry to say that, Severus, but you are not the first werewolf who happens to have nightmares and you most certainly will not be the last. These things happen and the only thing I have to offer is to stay with you and to give you the chance too change you surroundings. That's all. It often helps, you know, just to have someone to talk to.'
There was nothing Severus could say against this and he was much too desperate to decline Remus' offer s second time. He waited a few seconds to calm down a bit before he answered.
All right, I … I'll get a few things and I will come with you.'
He was about to turn to leave the kitchen in order to do that when Remus interrupted him.
'Good. I think you should stay until the first Moon. Therefore it would be wise to take all your food things with you. They needn't turn bad. Not that I expect to play cook for me, but didn't you say you were cooking quite a lot? That would keep you a bit busy.'
'I have tried that strategy, it didn't work. But I'll do it anyway. If you don't mind, you can collect all the things from the kitchen you like, and I will look for my personal things.' He was glad, that their conversation was back to normal now.
They proceeded as Severus had suggested.
When they were about to leave the flat, Severus asked curiously: Weren't you on you way to work when you came?'
'Yes, but I only go to the office when there are no clients to visit, to check my in-tray and to do some paperwork. I didn't have any appointment at my department or with another werewolf, and as I was obviously needed here, my work started right here,' Remus informed him.
'I see.'
Severus shut the door to his flat and they left. He was actually curious about Remus place, as he didn't know many wizards' living quarters, especially those in a Muggle environment.