Oh, goodness, this is really too much. I am shocked.

I never thought about it, but considering your state, I suppose it must happen. No one deserves this - it is just too much. I guess I know what you are thinking. I should call the kind nurse immediately, but somehow, I do not, frozen, horrified, and now, you are still in this state, while I am hovering, unable to reach a decision. I should not have come. You are a proud man, Severus, do you hate it as much as I suppose you do? You do not deserve this. It is shocking, and yet, I should have known. Let me just -

See? Better, is it not? I think I cannot fool either of us, can I? I would not have left you in this situation, even if I would hate you, I wouldn't have. Not another human being, not in such a situation, bereft of dignity. But is it really better? This way, I take part of your dignity away by giving it back, by helping, and only more harm can be done. It might have been more polite to just ignore it and wait for the nurse. But, the harm is done, and you must hate me. Hate this dependence on other people, hate me for being here right now, hate this situation. You always have, have you not?

I can only hope that in your deep sleep you have not noticed the wet sheets clinging to your back and the bodily warmth gradually getting colder and colder, and the sharp smell rising from the yellowing sheets. What would you do, were the positions exchanged? Can I know that at all? I thought I could, but I am not so certain, now.

Dependence, dependence. Hospitals are all about dependence, are they not? We had situations similar to this before and you were never too pleased about them, I know that for sure. You must hate hospitals. Things are not entirely over if you are still in the hospital and are cured from what was. I hated them for reasons like yours most of my life.

Well, you know what I am talking about, and I know you know why, and yet, I left it out of the account, did I not? It is embarrassing for me, and painful. I could make matters even and tell you something that would pain me, would embarrass me... And you would sneer, were you awake, wouldn't you? No, what am I thinking? Not after what happened later on, I must not be unfair. You would hate and despise me because I am dangerous in your eyes even now, now that you can brew the concoction to tame me. You can tame me, you realise? I am no longer dangerous. Do you realise how much this development meant to me? This question is unfair, too. Maybe it is not really proper to tell you at all, but I think you ought to know, and there was never really any time to tell you, and I am not sure you believed me when I thanked you for brewing it back then.

Also, there is this other thing that nags at my mind. I always blamed it for the decisions you made later on, you know? But it was very naive, I think, and foolish.

Funny thing, really, finding ourselves in a hospital wing together again isn't it? Alright, that was not the most appropriate things to say, but I have to say that I always rather liked the hospital wing at home in Hogwarts and I think I know that you did, too. It was a haven. It meant safety, as did the castle, it meant healing. I hope this place does for you, too.

The first full moon had drawn nearer and nearer and Remus was starting to panic. He had been jumpy all week, but now, the night before the full moon tomorrow, was excruciating. His housemates had nearly grown worried about him, he was making such a fuss and he had to force himself to seem calm. It did not work. He had not been able to sleep at all and had started to pace the room, searching for a way to calm down his heartbeat that was as loud as drum beats in the sleepy darkness of their dormitory, chopping bits of silence into hurried moments of panic. He kept walking all night and registered suddenly the faint light filtered through the curtains and heralded dawn. His heart sank even more.

He lived through the day like a man asleep, sleepwalking from lesson to lesson and answering questions as though in a dream while the darkness that seemed to be about to fall every minute haunted him. Wind howled in the corridors and rain from a leaden sky lashed the castle. The evening drew nearer and nearer, and soon, his strange waking dream had reached the point where he made up an excuse, said he was feeling very sick - which his housemates immediately believed after his strange behaviour all day - and shuffled into the hospital wing with a racing heart.

Madam Pomfrey greeted him with a very serious expression and repeated to him the safety precautions he had already been told by both, Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore. He nodded monotonously after every sentence, until she finally took him by the arm gently and led him through the dark castle, then outside, where the rain was so hard they were drenched to the skin in a minute, then to the dangerous tree they had told him about. It lashed at them and Remus screamed in fright.

Madam Pomfrey pulled him back, patted his arm to calm him down and then touched a knot at the stem of the tree with a stick, causing the tree to freeze in mid-movement. Remus stared up at the branches that only moments ago had pounded at the sky and swallowed dryly. He felt a small tug at his arm. Madam Pomfrey guided him to an entrance in the ground that ended surprisingly in a narrow tunnel underground. Remus frowned as he bent down to avoid the low celiling. Madam Pomfrey had to take great care of her head as well. Her elbows were one one level with her bent knees. In the wandlight, he could see the wooden walls that seemed to be rather new, but at the same time, the place was unreal, otherworldly, and the tunnel seemed to lead to an orcus. He looked up at her for a bit of reality and saw her stern eyes rest on his face for a moment before she turned awkwardly around and began to make her way slowly along the long corridor in front of him. He set one foot after another, following the dancing witch light of her wand, trying not to think about where this corridor might lead, not willing to picture what awaited them ahead. His parents had built a sort of small, padded cage in the cellar they had used to lock him in; this tunnel seemed to lead to the darkest dungeon. Maybe they were going to throw him into a dark cellar vault and chain him to the wall, like they did with prisoners in castles in the old days?

He felt as though he was caught in a blurred nightmare, and the strange sensation of a fever that seemed to grow stronger by the minute increased this impression even more. It clouded his mind and made it hard to concentrate on anything apart from walking, one step after hesitating step, into the darkness. The long corridor was endless, and the bent, mute figure in the nurse's robes beside him did not offer comfort anymore. Looming nearer and coming to a halt in front of them, there was a door ahead in the gloom, outlined by a rectangle of orange light. Remus swallowed dryly and looked pleadingly at Madam Pomfrey.

'Here we are, Mr Lupin,' she said gently and opened the door. He swallowed again and entered to face whatever fate awaited him - and found himself in a small house with comfortable chintz furniture and a merrily crackling fire. Remus looked around in amazement, stopping in his tracks about two steps into the house. Madam Pomfrey came in, obviously glad to be able to walk upright again and closed the door behind them. This was not at all what he had expected.

'The headmaster has ordered that you should stay in here. In fact, it will be impossible for you to break out,' she said earnestly, 'So do not worry about that.'

One look at the window, a dark rectangle with dark grey streaks among the illuminated chintz, was enough to reduce Remus to a pile of jittering nerves. It could not be long now, and the fever that filled his body and head with sickening heat confirmed this. His head was swimming. He turned his dark eyes to the nurse who was watching him in silence, and they appeared to be even darker by the light of the fire and against his pale skin. He tried to say something, but his throat was too dry.

The nurse patted his arm sternly and said, 'I will take you back to the castle in the morning, where we will treat whatever wounds you have inflicted to yourself in the night. I think I shall have to leave shortly. Do you require anything?'

Remus, heart pounding, could only shake his head. He noticed that the part of him that was usually concealed under a thick layer of self was growing more and more prominent.

'Alright, then I shall leave you now,' she said and gave him a kind look that was to conceal a worried one. She squeezed his shoulder, though, and made for the door rather hurriedly, as he noted. The door clicked shut behind her, there was the sound of retreating steps, and then he was alone in the house, winds howling in the corridor, the fire crackling loudly.

Feeling utterly miserable and sorry for himself, Remus let himself drop onto one of the pink chintz armchairs in front of the fire, and with a look around, he undressed and spread his clothes in front of the fire to allow them to dry, a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach as he realised that he was completely alone. The flames were causing strange shadows to dance across the walls of the strange, empty house. Unfamiliar noises haunted the corridor outside and Remus noticed with a pounding heart that he did not know what was waiting in the other rooms. Maybe they had sent him here to get rid of him? He curled up on the couch, arms around his knees, too scared to move for a few minutes until he had grown a little more accustomed to the strange squeaks and whistles the wind caused in the house and stopped jumping at every unfamiliar sound.

Slowly, he became aware of the other presence in his mind that had been creeping up on him all day. As always, it sent shivers down his spine. Large and sprawling, it started spreading in his brain like ink in water as soon as it appeared and Remus could feel himself drowning in the strange, wild tide as another consciousness battled and won over his own easily.

His senses were enhanced and suddenly, they were other senses, being able to note and haunt down every last being in this place by its scent, his hearing was suddenly so good that he felt deafened by a creaking floorboard nearby. Something else was growing strange and in panic, he cast his head around, as he noticed that the flickering flames were dancing their dance in dulled colours, strange yellows and blues. The world around him seemed to be drained of its colours, suddenly dull and grey-tinged. He felt his head turn, but knew it had not been his choice to do so. Panic rose and worst of all, as though someone had switched a lever inside him, something more intricate changed in him and he felt a torrent of emotions wash over him. Strange hungers, desires he had no name for, scents he wanted to pursue, strange scents wafting through the air where there had been none before - whatever was controlling his body now made his nose twitch this way and that.

Remus battled fiercely for control, panicking of being lost to this other self that had risen in him and was colonising his body. He forced his hands to stay calm where the other self had them twitching and fought the writhing strands of self in him as a blow hit him which sent him to the floor, screaming.

The last stage had arrived and his body was adjusting to the other self. His arms were painfully twisted into a new shape, his legs shortened, muscles being pressed together by such force that they seemed to be squeezed into each other, all organs in his body writhing as they changed position inside his rapidly moving belly. Remus screamed as he felt his face grow a strange appendix where his nose had been, as he suddenly was able to see something large and black an inch from where his nose had been. His hands, scrambling to hold the strange black ball, were suddenly coarse and he felt a huge scratch in his face where his claw had hit him.

Panicking, he screamed again, his entrails writhing, some of his bowels shifting like snakes in his belly and heard his voice crack, break and be replaced by other tones that were too aliens to be his. Something was tearing at him from inside and he went blind, his self being pushed back under layers of the other. Frantically trying to get back in control, he noticed that he had gone deaf and mute as well. Soon, he could not feel his limbs any longer and lost himself in the strange sleep that awaited him now. Strange pictures came descending to the surface of his self under which he was caught, strange ideas, emotions and feelings alien to his own. He contemplated them for a while, saw something tearing madly at one of the chintz cushions with great strength, and then was lost in a confusing darkness in which occasional pictures and glimpses twinkled like stars.

You have no idea what it is like, Severus. But then, I must not be unfair. You were never the one who thought he did. I am forever grateful for the potion, Severus. That year back at Hogwarts was one of the happiest in my life in spite of everything, and I have to thank you for that. I have thanked you back then, but I doubt it appeared to be more than just politeness.

Thank you, Severus.

Remus awoke with a start and blinked into blinding whiteness. He could not remember where he was; he had no idea why his mother had changed the colour of his ceiling to white from yellow over night. He wanted to say something, but only croaked.

Something bobbed into view and Madam Pomfrey's face appeared in a blurred shape over his own.

'Well, that was not as bad as I had anticipated, I have to say, Mr Lupin,' she said and gave him a stern smile. 'You had done yourself some harm, but it was nothing life threatening, as you will be glad to hear. There were some rather deep cuts in your chest and on your back, however they got there, but I have healed them and you should not feel much pain. If you do, let me know.'

'The house… the furniture...'

'Do not worry, Mr Lupin. That is all taken care of,' came another voice from the other side of his bed and he tiredly turned his head. More whiteness. He squinted up, trying to accustom his eyes to this other object and realised with widening eyes it was Professor Dumbledore.

'I will restore the wonderful armchairs to their former glory next month so that you find them in a presentable state as you require them.' Remus felt very embarrassed for having said it, he did not want to make the impression of only wanting them to be restored for his comforts.

'I am so sorry, sir, I did not want to destroy -'

'And you did not, as I understand it,' the Headmaster said. 'Hence, you are not to blame, Mr Lupin. However, I do not think I could grow accustomed to the thought of having you stay in a living room which is no really presentable state.' His eyes twinkled at Remus for a moment, and under the light of these blue eyes, Remus felt a smile grow slowly on his face.

'Thank you, sir.'

The next month he was considerably anxious about returning to the small house, and the month after that he felt actually quite cheerful, as it had grown very cold outside and he was looking forward to the fire in the house. Another of his worries had been settled as Madam Pomfrey had told him this house was quite far away from the next houses, so he did not have to worry about the amount - or kind- of noise he was making.

He was glad to have this house, as it was so much better and safer than the cage they had at home. Also, it was so much more comfortable.

Remus did not look forward to this particular aspect of returning home over the holidays. He was overjoyed to see his parents again and did not leave their arms for quite a while as they picked him up from the station, but the haunting knowledge that the end of the holidays had another transformation in store for him did not please him.

At home, life seemed to have gone on as usual. Now that he was back, he found that the strange tension that had been between his parents as he left had abated and each day was as cheerful as it used to be, although he did notice that whenever he started telling tales of what they learned at school rather than what they did in their free time, his father, usually an avid listener, would find an excuse and steal out of the room, leaving him with his mother, whose eyes always seemed to glaze over slightly when he talked about the classes and the teachers.

His grandmother called on the second day of Christmas and brought him half a dozen books on the history of magic, which was a great hobby of hers. She even treated his father with greater friendliness than usually, which was maybe the best present his mother received that Christmas.

All too soon, Christmas was over again and Remus started a sad count down to the days remaining at home- and the days remaining until he would have to be locked in in the cellar once more. His mother had bombarded him with all sorts of worried questions about his transformations at Hogwarts, but he told her the same things she had already been told in letters from him from school and in letters from Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey - that everything had gone rather well.

The evening he spent in the cage in the cellar seemed very miserable in comparison to the comfort of the chintzy cosiness of the small house. However, there was one thing that made his heart feel all warm and light as he sat in his padded cage - his father had come down to the cellar, carrying a chair and a book. Remus smiled up at him, happily. He noticed not without a certain degree of self-irony that it was a book about a magic finger by Roald Dahl and another of his books. Remus was already feeling feverish when his father's soothing, dark voice started reading, so he did not complain that he felt too old for these books, grateful he did not have to be alone.

His wounds that time were ten times worse than what he had inflicted himself in Hogwarts. He had woken up to see the worried face of his mother looming over his, and overhead, a white ceiling. She had done it again.

'Mother...?'

'Shh, darling, don't worry. You were hurt rather badly, so I took you back to Hogwarts a bit early to see Madam Pomfrey. I'm afraid you'll have to stay in bed for a few days,' she added, her eyes searching his face with concern. He had stretched out his arms and pulled her against him, breathing in the comforting scent of her hair.

'And father...?'

'He was very worried about you, Remus. But he also knows that you are bound to be alright now. He has packed you the books he started reading to you yesterday evening.'

'That was really nice.'

'Yes.'

They sat in silence for a while, his mother stroking his forehead as she did at home; suddenly Remus felt highly comfortable – there was no pain, the blanket kept his body warm from head to toe, and the cool hand of his mother on his forehead and her flowery smell made him feel absolutely secure. All too soon, however, she had to leave and Remus was left alone in the empty ward and soon drifted off into a deep, exhausted sleep.

When he woke up the next morning, he could hear that the castle was already filled with the sounds of milling steps again. Many people seemed to be about already, it must be rather late. He opened his eyes and looked around in the ward, seeing to his astonishment that the bed next to his was occupied, and as he craned his head to catch a glimpse of the sleeping face, he saw that it was Severus. A pale, very exhausted looking Severus. He must have gotten ill over the holidays, he mused.

He had not spoken to the Slytherin in a while as work had gotten harder and harder during the weeks before Christmas. As the tension between the houses increased, it had become easier just to stick to James and Peter rather than nod at a Slytherin and face death glares at the own house table. Also, they were always genuinely interested to hear things about Muggles, and even Sirius had occasionally sat and listened, albeit with absolute contempt on his face. Remus still avoided him.

The changes in the social network were strange to Remus, and he did not know if his housemates would lose interest when they felt they knew enough about muggles. Other changes were more predictable. The girl he had been working together with in class had found friends and had stopped working together with him after the holidays. Her new friends treated her with great enthusiasm, Remus could see them looking at her with admiration rather often. No wonder she had abandoned him for them. He tried to stick to his housemates and worked with them if the teachers allowed it, or alone, if they did not.

In the silence of the hospital wing, he looked around curiously for signs of what the other boy might have, but there were no telltale cures on the bedside table apart from a healing potion for general wounds and a painkiller. The boy's face was thin and very serious in his sleep; from time to time he frowned. Remus watched him for a while and then started reading his book again.

After an hour, he heard a stifled groan next to himself and looked around. Severus was awake, pressing his eyes shut, pale and exhausted, then blinked repeatedly, focusing on Remus after several attempts.

'Remus?'

'Hello, Severus. How were your holidays?' he asked, then considered it was a stupid question. Severus looked around at the hospital wing meaningfully, then frowned.

'Have you been home, too?'

'Yes.' Severus looked at him curious for a while, then seemed to shrug inwardly.

'You look bad. That is one gash you have in your face.'

'Oh, it looks worse than it is,' Remus said, blushing, hand tracing the healing reddish-brown line that led from his chin down his neck unconsciously. Severus winced and moved. The blanket covering the other boy shifted and revealed blue, black and yellowing bruises form strange patterns all over his back to Remus widening eyes. Hurriedly, Severus pulled the blanket back up, wincing again.

'How was your Christmas?' he said, his voice higher than usual. Remus blinked, focusing on the boys face again.

'Oh, alright, I suppose. Christmas Eve was not so good, though. Father was in a bit of a foul mood, but it got better towards the end of the evening. And grandma was there. Oh, and we had a great dinner, Mother did chicken with some orange, er stuff,' he replied. Severus pierced him with a searching look, then nodded.

'Our Christmas was fine, too. Mother and father had a bit of a row, but they made up because it's Christmas and everything.' Remus nodded in reply, still curious how Severus had gotten all those bruises, but too scared to ask. 'Father's been in a bit of a bad mood because of the situation at work, see? We had an argument only a few days ago,' said Severus. 'I am too clumsy, he said. Too... used to doing magic.' His eyes were glittering dangerously. Remus cast another look at the now covered bruises and imagined the reaction of his own father, would he manage to hurt himself like that.

'That's parents for you,' he said, trying to sound cheerful. 'You are sent off to a school and they blame you for learning something. My father said something along those lines too, though. One day, I tried to levitate over the teapot and it smashed onto his plate. He was really cross with me after that.' Remus frowned at the memory. He hated fighting with his father over magic. It made him feel helpless and insufficient. It was not his fault that he had to go to that school, after all. It was not his fault that he liked it so much. He saw that Severus was watching him with a strange glitter in his eyes still.

'Yes,' he whispered. 'I bet he did not like that. So... did you fight with your parents, too?'

Remus nodded, sadly. They sat in silenced for a moment, Severus giving Remus a very odd, enquiring look, but not saying anything. Remus felt a blush creep into his face slowly and looked away for a moment. Severus was still staring at him. After a moment, however, he shrugged to himself and turned to his bedside table with a wince, taking his book.

Slightly relieved, Remus did the same, but enquired politely what Severus was reading. Severus replied, not taking his eyes out of his book although it was obvious he was staring past the pages. Remus made to say some more, but then decided against it and dove into his own book.

After an hour of reading, Madam Pomfrey bustled up with a basin full of hot liquid that filled the room with the scent of warm camomile and other herbs. She pulled back the blanket on Severus' back carefully and started washing him, although he protested severely. Remus could not help staring at his bruises for a moment until very proud, hurt-looking eyes made him turn to the other direction and grab his book.

When Madam Pomfrey bustled off and the silence descended once more between the two boys he could briefly feel the eyes of the other on him. Turning to look at Severus, he saw that the other shot him a grateful look before hiding behind his own tome again. Content and glad that the other did not ask questions, he settled back to read in his own bed. A clock somewhere in the distance ticked on, but apart from this cosy, lazy sound, silence unbroken descended.

You hated it, didn't you? Those times when she had to heal the bruises you brought from home, when you had fallen, bumped into a door, had an accident with a stray spell from your mother, were just too clumsy and tripped the bookcase? Every time she dabbed healing potion on your back? I bet you did. I wonder today why your head of house did not talk to your parents about your clumsiness earlier, but that did not exactly make it better, did it? You were away in the hospital wing for a week after those holidays.

As I said, I blamed it for most of your decisions, but I have the feeling that it is not that easy, and to be frank, I do not like the shapes of the thoughts that I sometimes have on the matter.

You must hate it now, when they come and wash you. I remember how much you hated it back then, especially when someone else was there. Your eyes seemed to burn out of your sockets, so much did you glare at everyone who dared to look. It was really a pathetic sight, your own dignity being taken away by an incident so little as being washed in a hospital, where no one can help it.

Why is it that you felt bereft of all dignity so quickly, and because of such small things? Did you realise how weak you were, Severus? You must have done.

You must have done. Of course.

Edit: thanks a lot to Whitehound for pointing out the irregularities and mistakes!