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Remus, 9:31pm

The first few confusing minutes were spent shoveling the wounded into bed, silently assessing the extent of injuries. Lupin, with the help of Harry, managed to hop onto a cot without jarring his shattered arm too badly. Smoothing the sheets back, Harry gave him a worried, anxious look before turning to help the others.

Such clean white sheets almost seemed like a joke, Remus thought to himself as he gazed at his battered companions. Especially after time spent among Death Eaters.

While everyone was being settled, Dumbledore had apparently slipped silently out of the room. Within minutes he returned, with both Madam Pomfrey and Severus Snape in tow.

In the doorway, both Snape and Madam Pomfrey stopped abruptly, and even Severus seemed stunned by the scene. "What in Merlin's name happened?" Madam Pomfrey gasped, almost indignantly, as her pale eyes swept over the rows of groaning patients. "Albus, when did they- where did they-"

Dumbledore turned to Remus, his head inclined in deference to the former Professor. "Just now, Poppy. Remus, if you would enlighten us…"

With a small grunt, Remus raised himself on his good elbow and managed to sit up. "The Death Eaters have been collecting werewolves," he informed Albus quietly, struggling to school his voice into sounding professionally detached. "Some have gone willingly, but most were abducted. They are planning to insert us into Muggle communities during the full moon. Those who didn't join him were punished," he added, gesturing around him at the other occupants of the hospital beds. "We managed to escape, but there are others…" He turned to look at Dumbledore, who had been listening intensely.

"The Order will be informed," Dumbledore told him quietly, and with that Remus sank back down upon his pillow with a relieved sigh. The throbbing in his arm was beginning to cloud his thoughts, he supposed, because he was suddenly having a lot of trouble concentrating on what the Order would do to help the others.

Remus heard Madam Pomfrey shake her starched skirts furiously; he remembered vaguely that she had done so even when he had been at Hogwarts, after his transformations at the Shack, and knew that her face must be tensed in a terse, controlled smile. "Well! I'll get to work." Walking briskly to the opposite wall, she opened the door to the Room of Requirement, and a full cart rolled in, pushed by five struggling house elves. Reaching for a thick roll of bandages, the nurse quickly began repairing his arm and began wrapping his forearm from wrist to elbow in a sling of gauze. Remus blissfully closed his eyes as the pain dissipated from the cracked bones.

Hermione's voice drifted into his hearing from somewhere above his head. "Madam Pomfrey?" She sounded hesistant.

"Yes, dear?" Madam Pomfrey replied in a tight little voice. Little cuts on his face were sealing themselves up, now, with the familiar prickling sensation that accompanied rapid skin growth.

Glass clinked, and upon opening his eyes, Remus saw that Hermione had selected a clear vial of blue liquid. "If it would be alright, I could tend to some of the smaller cuts, so you'd be free to handle the big injuries …" Her voice trailed off as she glanced toward the other beds.

Looking up sharply, Madam Pomfrey's quick eyes flew to the glass vial in Hermione's hands. The old nurse's face instantly relaxed into a genuine smile. "That would be excellent, Miss Granger. Quite excellent. You do know your potions, don't you, dear." Pointedly ignoring a snort from Severus, who was also raiding the cart of potions, she pointed to a stack of fresh cotton pads and began to instruct Hermione on the proper way to treat small wounds.

He hadn't thought that Hermione would turn Healer, Remus thought dreamily, though he wouldn't have been surprised if prominent experts in every field of study were already beginning to battle over her apprenticeship. But his eyes flew open in alarm as another thought suddenly occurred to him.

Sitting up quickly, he inadvertently knocked Madam Pomfrey's wand away from the nasty gash she was healing on his shoulder. Ignoring her cry of "Remus Lupin!" he reached over to grab Hermione's wrist. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked worriedly, voice low, hoping with all his heart that this would not be necessary. He didn't think it was, but he knew he needed to ask. "We're all werewolves, Hermione, and you'd be handling our blood- if there's any risk- "

Hermione's free hand was immediately at her hip, reminiscent of Molly Weasley, though she lacked the quintessential spoon that Molly often shook at stubborn Order members refusing to get to bed before you fall asleep on your feet, do you hear me? "We all know that the condition can only be passed along through a bite during the full moon. Professor, you taught us better than that," she answered tartly, though Remus's blurring eyes could see her expression soften. "Now just relax, Professor," she told him, replacing his arm gently upon the hospital bed with a comforting pat.

Harry had come up behind her during his tirade, another blue vial in his hands. He sent a rather stern glare toward Remus. "Don't even worry about that," he whispered fiercely. "I know you do, but don't." Unlike Hermione, his hand upon Remus's arm was not gentle; Harry clutched at him with a desperation that worried Remus. "Believe me."

Remus smiled back at his two former students- friends, actually- and watched them warmly return the favor. James and Sirius used to say that, too, Remus tried to tell them, but his eyes were closing and soon he was asleep.

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Author's note: I removed the pairings from the summary. I don't want to put anyone off reading, just because they don't agree with the choices I made. This story is going to have romance, but the war will not magically disappear.

Please review! And thanks to my two readers on alert, I love you very much. Really, I do.