Y1, C9: In Which Everything is Fine

The pain of transforming back subsided gradually. Remus, now perfectly aware, found himself on the floor of the abandoned building. He watched the sun-illuminated dust float in the air for a second. Thank goodness I didn't escape, he thought (thinking in actual human words for the first time all night). He wanted to look around and survey the damage, but his head was far too heavy.

Remus tried his hardest not to move. He was so incredibly numb—he didn't feel a thing; not even the floor beneath him. He guessed that he had about ten minutes left before that started to wear off.

Madam Pomfrey was walking down the tunnel now, and Remus promptly started to panic. It was much too early, she should have waited a few minutes, he had only just transformed back and if she had come just a few minutes earlier she would have died...

No harm done, he forced himself to think as he pushed himself into a sitting position and wiped the blood off of his pale face. He was sure that he probably looked horrid… but there was nothing he could do about that, was there? There was nothing he could do about anything, in fact. He felt utterly helpless.

Madam Pomfrey entered, and Remus heard a small gasp escape her lips. Remus didn't like that. He didn't want to be pitied; he only wanted to be back at the school and get some rest. Pity never helped anything. Remus felt a surge of annoyance rise inside his chest, so he breathed slowly and purposefully. In through his nose… out through his mouth…. Yes, that was better.

"Morning, Madam Pomfrey," Remus managed to say, choking on his own words. "Beautiful day."

Madam Pomfrey didn't look amused; she did, however, switch back to a cool no-nonsense voice (which made Remus a lot more comfortable than senseless pity). "Don't you dare move an inch, Remus Lupin, and don't say anything unless it's an emergency. I don't know why you're sitting up, but that better not happen next month. Now. I'm going to heal up the worst right here and then take you to the Hospital Wing to work on the rest, all right? Please stay still."

"May I go to classes tomorrow?" Remus tried to act as nonchalantly as possible, hoping that the awful look of pity in her eyes would go away if he acted as if it were not a big deal after all.

"I thought I just told you not to speak," scolded Madam Pomfrey. Her eyes were haunted with even more pity than before, but her voice was, fortunately, as business-like as ever. She pulled out her wand and mumbled some spells. Remus still couldn't feel a thing, but, judging by the puddle of blood that he seemed to be sitting in, it hadn't been good this month.

He glanced around the house, moving his head as little as possible. He had been right. All the furniture in the house sported deep scratches and horrible-looking tooth indentations. Remus shuddered, which earned him a stern look from Madam Pomfrey.

Shafts of sunlight floated in through the boarded-up window, which Remus vaguely remembered scratching at during the night as he tried to escape. His memories from the night were clear as day, and he hated every one of them. Being a dangerous monster that felt nothing but bloodlust was one thing. Remembering being such made it even worse.

Remus finally gathered up the courage to look at himself. Yes, there was a lot of blood—some gashes, scratches, bite marks, and he seemed to be missing two fingernails. His arm looked to be very broken. He had the sudden urge to vomit, but he ignored it and waited for it to go away.

"Are you in pain?" asked Madam Pomfrey suddenly, as if she had just remembered that having one's body sliced up was inclined to hurt.

Remus pointed to his lips, which were tightly pressed together.

"Very well," said Madam Pomfrey. "I grant you permission to talk."

"Why, thank you," said Remus. His voice was still scratchy from the awful reshaping and twisting of his vocal chords. "No, ma'am. None. Starting to regain feeling, but not a whole lot. I'm just very numb."

"Good. Your mother mentioned that you often were after a transformation. That makes things much easier. I've done all I can for now, Mr. Lupin; I'm going to Disillusion us both temporarily and Levitate you back to the castle."

"No!" Remus hadn't meant to say it so loud, so he lowered his voice and tried again. "No."

"Excuse me? Don't tell me that you're going to try to walk."

"Please, Madam. I'd really like to."

"No!"

Remus pursed his lips. "I think I've lost enough control for today. I'd like to do something for myself." He hadn't meant to use Madam Pomfrey's pity to his advantage, but he didn't know what else to do at that point. Besides, it was one-hundred-percent effective.

Madam Pomfrey's eyes softened, and she reluctantly told him that of course he could walk—but only if he was very careful and told her if he was in any pain whatsoever. Remus agreed and let her pull him up to a standing position.

It felt odd, walking on two legs, although perhaps that was because he couldn't feel the aforementioned two legs at all. He could barely command them to move. Until his human nervous system entirely returned and his body recovered from the shock that was changing into an entirely different creature, Remus did not feel a thing. "Pretty sunny out," he commented as he and Madam Pomfrey ambled towards the castle, nearly completely invisible. Madam Pomfrey gave him a worried look.

Feeling gradually returned as Remus got closer to the castle. By the time they reached the door of the Hospital Wing, he was—embarrassingly—in tears.

"Almost there," said Madam Pomfrey, who no doubt heard the whimpers that Remus couldn't stop escaping from his mouth. She led him to her office and then Disillusioned him with a wave of her wand. The pity in her eyes was enormous at this point, and Remus wondered if she felt worse than he did.

Probably not.

Remus lowered himself onto the bed and immediately felt a sort of relief. It had been nice to walk—if not the most painful thing that he'd experienced since the transformation. Walking had, at least, helped him to regain a familiarity with his human body. For the first time since yesterday, Remus felt completely and totally like a person.

"Well, then," said Madam Pomfrey, her voice still business-like. "I'm going to get you some Pain-Relieving Potion and then work on fixing the wound on your leg."

"I'm not in pain," Remus said quickly. It was a reflex, and he amended his comment as soon as Madam Pomfrey gave him a stern look. "I'm in pain."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and all but forced the potion down his throat. Remus hated taking potions. Knowing there were newts' eyes in a potion was bad enough, but Remus could actively taste them with his enhanced senses. There was really nothing like ingesting a newt first thing in the morning.

Remus felt better immediately, though the pain had not completely dissipated. Now he knew where the pain was, at least, instead of his whole body being a blur of pain. "Right," said Madam Pomfrey. "Besides your leg, where does it hurt?"

"Sorry, Madam, but might I have some water?" asked Remus in a small voice. He had been trying to ignore the taste of blood in his mouth to which he was so accustomed, but it was becoming very difficult.

"Of course, Mr. Lupin," said Madam Pomfrey, casting Aguamenti—non-verbally!—into a small cup. Remus took it and downed the whole thing in exactly three gulps.

"Er, my jaw, my hand, my left arm..." he said, returning to the question.

"I believe your jaw hurts from the ferocity with which you were clenching it," said Madam Pomfrey. "You are indeed missing a couple fingernails; I'll give you a potion for that in a moment. Your left arm is broken. I'd typically mend it in a split second, but it's better in this case to remove it and regrow it from scratch, since it's broken in more than one place and the skin around it is so injured."

Remus nodded. His father had done the same thing a couple times. "What's wrong with my leg?" he asked. "That one always seems to get injured."

"Your right leg has a very nasty bite. Am I right in assuming that silver and Dittany is the only thing that seals a werewolf bite?"

"Er, yeah," he said, feeling ashamed, "but it doesn't take much."

"And will all of this scar?"

"Yes," he said, "but some fade with time to the point that you can hardly see them."

Madam Pomfrey left the office; Remus heard potions bottles clinking and rustling in the other room. He closed his eyes for a moment but did not fall asleep. The Pain-Relieving Potion, which was such a rarity at Remus' house, made things feel very different from the familiar pain that Remus was accustomed to following a full moon. Things were more pleasant with the potion, of course—far more pleasant—but still very different.

A minute later, Madam Pomfrey came back with a few glasses. "I'm going to need you to drink these," she said briskly, "and then I'm going to give you a Sleeping Draught so that you can regain your strength. I can work uninterrupted while you're asleep."

"Thank you, Madam... and I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?"

"That you're stuck inside helping me. I don't mean to get so injured."

"Mr. Lupin," said Madam Pomfrey with a bit of a smile, "I literally get paid for this."

Remus genuinely smiled for the first time in hours.

He awoke a couple of hours later feeling wonderful.

Remus' parents hadn't been able to afford all of the potions that Madam Pomfrey could provide for him, and Remus' father (as wonderful as he was) was not nearly as good at healing magic as Madam Pomfrey was. Many of Remus' wounds had been forced to heal the Muggle way back when he was at home.

Now, though—now he almost felt as if he could run a mile.

Well, not a mile, and maybe not run, but he was confident that he could at least walk to the other end of the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey was sitting in a chair and reading something. "Good afternoon, Mr. Lupin. How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling wonderful," he said, his voice still rather scratchy. He remembered howling half the night away, so he supposed that made sense. "What are you reading?"

"A letter from your mother," said Madam Pomfrey. "She was feeling lonely last night. She wrote you one as well; it arrived this morning. It's by your bedside table."

When Remus lifted his hand to retrieve the letter, he noticed that his palm was wrapped in gauze. He hoped that he wouldn't have any noticeable scars when he left the Hospital Wing.

Dear Remus,

It's getting late, the house is dark, and I'm feeling very bored. And worried, too—but I know you don't want to hear that. Your father is sleeping upstairs. He tried to stay up with me… but you know him. He could fall asleep anywhere. He's terrible at staying up past his bedtime... and besides, he has to be up early for work tomorrow.

The Gryffindor scarf is almost finished, he says, although it still doesn't look like a scarf to me. He says he wants to start on a hat when the scarf is finished, but I've been trying to persuade him to let me make it. No luck as of yet.

The house is so quiet. Looking at the full moon knowing that you're somewhere else tonight is unbearable. You haven't been away from home for so long since you were... well, never, actually. And this is the very first full moon that we haven't been around for. Please write as soon as you can; I can't stand the apprehension. And I can't help but worry, dear. I know you're in good hands, but the fact that those hands aren't my own is a difficult pill to swallow.

I am not making our traditional full moon soup tonight, although I know I'll miss it in the morning. It just isn't the same without you. Nothing is. I miss you helping me cook in the evenings. I seem to have your voice in my head all the time. It's all very annoying.

Please write as soon as possible. If anything were to happen to you then I don't think I could bear it. I do want you to have fun at Hogwarts—your father cannot stop talking about it; it sounds like great fun—but I beg of you once again to be safe.

Feel better soon! Get plenty of sleep… and do try to eat something. I know eating after the moon isn't nearly as good without my post-moon soup, but I'm certain that Hogwarts has plenty of good food.

Love,
Mum.

Remus smiled and closed the letter. "All good news, I hope?" asked Madam Pomfrey.

"No," Remus said gravely. "I'm afraid that my father has decided to knit me a hat. Mum isn't pleased at all."

"Yes, she told me about the scarf and the hat," said Madam Pomfrey. "Is he really that bad at knitting?"

"He tried once to knit me a jumper," Remus said. "I don't think the poor knitting needles have ever recovered. What else did she say in her letter to you?"

"Nothing much," said Madam Pomfrey, folding up the letter. Remus noticed that it was multiple pages. "She described your typical injuries again, told quite a few stories about your past transformations..."

"What?" asked Remus, alarmed.

"...including one in particular in which you insisted that you had eaten a mouse."

Remus' face reddened. "I didn't, actually," he said. "I had lost a lot of blood and was a little woozy. I had only played with the mouse a little… though I don't think that the mouse thought that it was a very fun game. Miraculously, the mouse was fine."

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Oh, believe me, I've seen a lot worse. I had a child once who really did eat a mouse. She got quite ill afterwards. I've learned not to ask questions."

Remus grinned. "A wise decision," he said. "Did you ever find out why Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew came to you with bright pink skin?"

"They said something about a cursed trunk; I chalked it up to confused babbling."

"Cursed? No, not cursed, only hexed."

"Was that... you?"

Remus grinned, unsure whether he should be confessing this but too proud of himself not to tell someone. Also, the full moon had caused him to lose some of his common sense. "They were trying to snoop, and I'd been practicing spells on my trunk all summer."

Madam Pomfrey looked stern for a second, but quickly lost her composure and began to laugh. "A very impressive spell," she said. "How long have you been doing magic?"

"We never thought that I would go to Hogwarts," Remus said, "so I would sometimes borrow Dad's wand and practice with his supervision. I can learn the theory all right, but casting the spell always takes me a long time. I've had that trunk for years, and I'd been working on that one for a few months. I learned a lot of hexes this summer." Remus coughed suddenly and promptly realized that he probably shouldn't be talking so much.

"Well, it was most amusing," Madam Pomfrey said. "I'm going to go to the Great Hall and get you some toast and water. Stay here."

As if he had a choice.

The next couple hours consisted of a lot of reading, eating, napping, and practicing Aguamenti. Remus finally got the leaky faucet to a trickle, and he was overjoyed (though the water was now a shade of grey, which was debatably even worse than blue).

Remus also wrote a letter to his mother, assuring her that everything was fine. He did exaggerate a little, stressing the fact that he had never felt better and couldn't wait to go to classes tomorrow… but most of it was true. He wrote a separate letter to his father, in which he described in detail the complex charms that Dumbledore had put on the house (he also asked his for tips on how to cast Aguamenti).

At about five pm, Remus was rereading his personal copy of Hogwarts, a History and munching on a sandwich. He really was feeling a lot better. Madam Pomfrey had told him that Skele-Gro worked much better overnight, so Remus' left arm was currently boneless. It was rather uncomfortable to function with one gauze-ridden arm, but Remus was managing quite admirably.

Madam Pomfrey had, to Remus' surprise, fed Bufo that morning when Remus was too poorly to do so. Remus must have looked very surprised at the revelation, because Madam Pomfrey fervently and vehemently denied that she had ever been afraid of toads. "After all," she told him, "how can I be afraid of a toad and not a werewolf?" Remus thought that was hilarious, but he was probably just delirious. Madam Pomfrey was terrified of toads; it was clear as day.

Remus was reading about the life and history of former headmaster Armando Dippet when Madam Pomfrey entered with fresh dressings for his wounds and more mysterious potions that tasted of toilet water. "How are you feeling, Mr. Lupin?"

"I'm feeling really well, Madam," said Remus. "This is the best I've ever felt so soon after a full moon."

"I'm glad," said Madam Pomfrey, but she didn't look it. "Remember: you're staying in the Hospital Wing tonight. We'll see if you can catch any lessons tomorrow, depending on how you're feeling, but I don't have high hopes. It's plenty late enough to take the Skele-Gro—that's the green potion. It's not comfortable, I'm afraid."

"Check who you're talking to," mumbled Remus sarcastically as he downed the potion. It was disgusting. Suddenly, he froze. "Um, Madam Pomfrey. Professor Questus is in the Hospital Wing. Maybe you should go see what he wants."

Madam Pomfrey looked surprised. "How did you know... oh, right. Careful you don't move that arm too much, Mr. Lupin."

"I can't, there are no bones," Remus reminded her.

"Ha-ha, very funny," said Madam Pomfrey.

She's warming up to me, Remus thought. Bufo croaked from his perch on Remus' shoulder. "I reckon you two will be best mates in no time," Remus told him, and he could have sworn that Bufo smiled.