Chapter 28: The Moon Was Shining Sulkily

"I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable, Lupin, I just want to make sure that there's no other way that I can help you," said Madam Pomfrey. "I shall do my best to be emotionless and stoic."

"Thanks," Remus mumbled.

"First off: your left shoulder. I imagine you didn't do that yourself?"

"No, Madam." Remus wanted to crawl in a hole and die. "That one was from the werewolf that bit me." He tried to sound nonchalant, but he probably just sounded like a robot—which wasn't, of course, ideal at all.

Madam Pomfrey bit her lip. "Do you... know who it was...?"

"Yes." Madam Pomfrey waited expectantly, but Remus wasn't planning on saying any more.

"I see. You know, Potter came to visit me the other day. Asked me if I had anything for nightmares."

Remus felt every blood vessel in his body squirm uncomfortably.

"He told me that it was for someone in his dormitory. That wouldn't be you, would it?"

Remus nodded, his throat tight. Why had James gone and betrayed him like that? It was private, it wasn't something he wanted Madam Pomfrey to know, it was something that he wanted to deal with on his own... they were getting better, anyway. At least he could fall asleep somewhat easily now. And it wasn't as if he had a nightmare every night... just most nights. And that meant that James had come to Madam Pomfrey before confronting Remus. That seemed kind of messed-up, in Remus' opinion.

"He shouldn't have come to you," Remus said, more angrily than he had intended. "I'm dealing with it just fine on my own."

"Hm. Am I correct in assuming that the nightmares have to do with a particular event that happened six and a half years ago?'

Remus crossed his arms. "It doesn't matter."

"It very much does. Last month you woke up with a nightmare, too, remember? Every time I got close to your shoulder..." Madam Pomfrey made a sudden movement towards Remus' shoulder, and Remus jumped and backed up involuntarily.

"You flinch, see? That's not exactly normal."

Remus snapped. "Yeah, well, I'm not normal, am I? I can't even sit through a class just because of a giant floating rock in the sky. I'd say that being jumpy after a traumatic event is the most normal thing about me. I know you don't want to hear it, but nightmares are the easiest part of my life right now. So if you could just lay off and let me deal with it on my own..."

"Because that worked so well this morning."

Remus narrowed his eyes, and Madam Pomfrey looked a bit guilty.

"Look, Remus, you need to learn to accept help. That's what I'm here for."

"I don't want it," said Remus, his voice breaking uncomfortably. "I just want... I want to be... I don't know what I want." Everything was getting much too sappy for him, so he forced himself to smile. "And it doesn't really matter, does it? No sense dwelling on what we can't have. And the nightmares will go away; it's only the change in... er, scenery. James has been very helpful, you know."

Madam Pomfrey looked concerned, but mercifully matched his bright tone. "Okay, then. If you're sure."

"Any other questions?"

"Are you still... afraid of the werewolf that bit you? Is it a rational fear, I mean. Is he... or she, I suppose... still around?"

"Yes," said Remus, "Although I doubt he'd come for me again, since the damage's already been done."

"So it wasn't an accident?"

Remus froze. He had not meant to disclose that much information about the attack. He hadn't meant to imply anything of the sort; he didn't want Madam Pomfrey to know the details—not one bit. Remus himself didn't want to know more details than he already did.

"Madam Pomfrey, I'm feeling very tired. Do you mind if I..."

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Yes, of course. Call me if you need anything. And, Remus... talking about it helps. Sometimes."

Remus nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Don't forget..."

"To wake you up before six pm, I know."

Remus bundled himself in the covers and thought about sheep.

He actually woke up an hour and a half later and tried to read a book. No such luck, and his bones felt as if they were melting. He settled for listening to Madam Pomfrey scold a student who had gotten himself Splinched.

"You're not even supposed to be Apparating! You could have gotten yourself killed!" Remus smelt blood in the air and sympathized for the Splinched student.

"A little higher up and you might have bled out," grouched Madam Pomfrey. "And leaving Hogwarts grounds to Apparate! How stupid. I'm surprised you've not been expelled. If you ever do that again, so help me, I will let you die." Remus knew that she wouldn't. "You're fine now. Go back to class. And leave Apparating for the more experienced."

Remus was feeling drowsy again, so he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

He didn't wake up again until lunchtime, when he heard Peter, James, and Sirius enter the Hospital Wing. "Is he okay?" asked James.

"Is he dead?" asked Sirius.

"He neither okay nor dead," said Madam Pomfrey. Remus wanted to cross his arms in protest, but his limbs were too heavy. He was okay! He wasn't dead, but he was okay. "He's caught a particularly nasty cold. He'll be out for a few days, but he'll live." Remus took note so as not to contradict Madam Pomfrey later.

"Can we see him?" asked Peter, and Remus panicked for a few seconds.

"I believe he's asleep," Madam Pomfrey said. "Perhaps after classes. Now go eat lunch. I don't need more students in here at the time being."

Remus waited until their scents faded, and then closed his eyes once more.

"You seem to be a lot more fatigued today than last month," said Madam Pomfrey when Remus had woken up a third time, "but you said that last month was worse...?"

"I wasn't able to sleep at all last month," replied Remus. "I was exhausted out of my wits, but couldn't sleep. That's a lot worse. It's different every time, you know. Very unpredictable."

"How's the pain?"

"Steadily increasing. But bearable." At least Remus' speech wasn't slurred and shaky—not yet, anyhow.

"Are you sure that you don't want a potion?"

"I'm sure, but thank you. I'm going to go back to sleep now, if that's all."

"Very well."

Remus fell back asleep.

He woke up as soon as Madam Pomfrey entered the room to arouse him, almost as if he had an internal alarm clock. He didn't always. "Time to go," Madam Pomfrey whispered. Remus stretched, feeling every tendon in his body protest. He rubbed his eyes and felt an unexpected jolt of pain in his wrist.

"Ow," he complained.

He noticed that there were sharp pains in his lungs every time he breathed to deeply, so he kept his breaths shallow. Madam Pomfrey helped him out of bed, but he could walk quite well compared to last month.

It was a little chillier outside in the dimming light, and Remus found himself hugging his chest to keep warm. "What's going to happen in winter?" Madam Pomfrey suddenly asked. "When it gets to be freezing temperatures. It's cold right now, even, and we certainly can't have you in that abandoned house freezing to death."

"Trust me," Remus mumbled. "I won't care."

"Of course you'll care, during the three hours leading up. What did you do at home?"

"I use the cellar... it's indoors, so there's heat."

"Well. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore can perform a sufficient Heating Charm. Do you have that book that you duplicated?"

Remus held up said book that he had managed to make a copy of a few days before. "And will you feed Bufo?"

"Of course. Horrid creature." Remus smiled slightly—though, since both he and Madam Pomfrey were Disillusioned, he knew that she couldn't see him. "I can wait with you, if only for an hour..."

"No."

"A half-hour?"

"No."

"Whyever not, Mr. Lupin? I've seen you at your worst. I'd leave before you transform. I wouldn't be in any danger whatsoever, and neither would you."

"You haven't."

"Haven't what?"

"Seen me at my worst."

Madam Pomfrey was silent. "I'm the matron, Lupin. I'm certain that I could deal with it."

"It's personal, Madam. It's easier alone. I really can't explain it..."

"Very well. But keep in mind that I shall ask every time until you finally agree."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," said Remus, but he knew he'd never agree.

Madam Pomfrey pointed her wand at the tree; it froze almost immediately. She ushered Remus into the passage, and his every muscle seemed to stretch nearly to snapping point.

Dumbledore had indeed fixed up the furniture, and Remus felt a pang of guilt knowing that he was going to destroy it all over again. The building no longer smelt of blood, but deep scratches were still embedded into the walls and floor.

"Well," said Madam Pomfrey, "I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Good night, Madam. Thank you."

"No problem at all, Mr. Lupin. Where's the fake smile this month?"

Remus tried, but it felt like a grimace. "I'll work on that."

Madam Pomfrey laughed slightly, and left the building.

Remus was terrified out of his wits.

He opened up his book and began to read. It was only after he had finished the first three chapters that he realized that, although his eyes were scanning the words, he really wasn't reading at all. He sighed and put the book down. Thirty minutes had passed.

He wandered around the building, letting the rhythm of his steps calm him. He brushed his hand against the wood of the tables and chairs, the fabric of the armchair, the boards in the walls. He came to the piano, and noticed a piece of paper on the music stand.

He flipped it over. Sheet music. Moonlight Sonata: Movement One. It was even the exact simplified arrangement that Remus had learnt as a child.

He smiled and internally thanked Professor Dumbledore. He didn't know where Dumbledore had gotten the music, and he didn't really want to know. Probably magic. Remus tried not to question magic.

He played it three times, slow on the first two and as fast as possible on the last one. Even though he had it completely memorized, there was something relaxing that came with following along with the sheet music. He couldn't even really read sheet music, save this one piece. He was feeling almost relaxed enough to read for real, now.

He recited some poetry (in a whisper, since his throat was becoming unpleasantly raspy). He read a few more chapters (comprehending a good sixty percent of it). He lied flat on his back and breathed as deeply as possible. He tried to sleep, but sleep did not come.

Overall, he was feeling much more relaxed than last month. He hoped that it would be enough.

"The sun was shining on the sea," he announced to the empty air: "Shining with all his might... doing his very best to make... the billows smooth and bright. And that was odd, because it was the middle of the night."

That poem always seemed to cheer him up: his mother had memorized it, too, and Remus would narrate while she recited the dialogue.

"O Oysters!"

"Said the Carpenter..."

"We've had a pleasant run! Shall we be trotting home again?"

"But answer came there none: and this was scarcely odd, because... they'd eaten every one."

He smiled, thinking of the falsetto voice that his mother would adopt for the oysters, the low voice for the Walrus, and the monotonous, depressed voice of the Carpenter. She'd always been good with voices. Remus hadn't, and he'd always started laughing so hard that he could barely recite his own part.

He dearly hoped that Dumbledore had been correct about the stress causing worse transformations. It would be nice to have an easy one, for once. He closed his eyes and paid attention to his breathing. In through his nose, out through his mouth...

Time passed, and the normal shakes and quivers came with it. Remus' breathing was ragged, but he tried his best to steady it... to slow his heartbeat... to focus on something else...

He suddenly went deathly still, and knew that the transformation would only be a few seconds away. He wouldn't think about that, though... it didn't really matter... he had done it before... He gritted his teeth and focused on not clenching his fingers, hoping with all his heart that it would help, at least a little.

He was violently torn away from his thoughts by a sudden pain. He focused on his fingers, keeping them outstretched: he felt them curl and bend, but he kept his attention on them... His bones were melting, every tendon and nerve was on fire, he heard them break inside of him—gosh, he hated this part. He tried not to scream, but it was pretty inevitable at this point... thank goodness for Silencing Charms.

But he didn't clench his hands this time!

All of the sudden, in a flurry of pain, his normal morals returned and the murderous tendencies ebbed away. He was covered in blood, but it was his own. He also seemed to have stuffing of sorts in his mouth—from the armchair, he presumed. He wiggled his fingers and toes and spat out the stuffing. Everything seemed to be in order.

Madam Pomfrey was coming, and Remus remembered her forbidding him to sit up last month. But really, he was embarrassed to be found like this, in a puddle of his own blood and completely helpless. He wanted to feel human again, even though it was difficult when the hem of his robes was soaked and his face was all sweaty. He was still completely numb, but he pulled himself into a sitting position with much difficulty, leaning against the wall of the building. There, that was better.

Well, not better. But Remus had little options at that point.

Madam Pomfrey's footsteps got louder, and then they stopped. Remus heard her heartbeat.

"Good morning, Madam Pomfrey," said Remus, spitting out some more cotton and promptly choking on his own words.

"Remus Lupin, I don't know why you are sitting up, but you really need to stop. And no talking! Be as still as possible."

Remus obeyed. His head felt a little fuzzy. He was vaguely aware of Madam Pomfrey whispering spells and stemming some of the bleeding. "It's... it's—better, right—?" he coughed. "Than last time—I mean?"

"Not a word, Remus."

"Sorry."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm fairly certain that 'sorry' constitutes as a word," said Madam Pomfrey, and Remus nearly smiled.

A few more minutes passed, and Madam Pomfrey finally seemed satisfied. Remus was starting to regain feeling, and he did not like it at all.

"I assume you're letting me levitate you this month? I'll have you know that I can Conjure a very comfortable stretcher."

Remus shook his head and pressed his lips together tightly. He would walk back to the castle if it was the last thing he did. Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes and helped him up.

"You are the most stubborn child I have ever met," she said as she walked him back. "Even Albus Dumbledore accepts more help than you do, and he's the most powerful wizard on earth. Why, if I were you..."

Remus was thankful for Madam Pomfrey's words; they gave him something else to focus on rather than the burning pain that he felt literally everywhere.

They arrived back at the Hospital Wing, and Remus stumbled into his bed. Funny, how he was referring it to "his bed", even in his head. He giggled. Madam Pomfrey looked disturbed, and Remus thought that he probably looked quite mad from the outside... but he didn't have the presence of mind to care much.

"Right, then," said Madam Pomfrey, holding up a potion to his lips. Remus drank it, recognizing it as the Pain-Relieving Potion. That was quickly becoming his all-time favorite potion, even though it tasted awful.

He closed his eyes as the pain subsided, focusing on the familiar tingling sensation of the silver and Dittany and Madam Pomfrey's soothing words until he fell asleep.

He woke up feeling fine. "I feel fine," he said.

"Well, don't sound so surprised," said Madam Pomfrey, who was reading a piece of paper in the chair adjacent to his bed. "I am a rather good matron, you know."

"Yes, but... I reckon I could go to class today."

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes for the second time that day. "No. No, you can't, and I thought you would have learned from yesterday that you have limitations. You didn't get any sleep last night, and you endured an extremely strenuous and brutal transformation. You need a lie-in; I would have thought that was obvious. Besides, it's late afternoon. Classes are over."

"Yes, ma'am," said Remus, and shook his head a bit to get rid of the bubbles behind his eyes. He'd never felt like this after a full moon. This was brilliant. "It was better than last time, then?"

"Much better," said Madam Pomfrey. "You had a lot of scratches, which is why you were bleeding so much, but none of them were deep. Which is good, seeing as your leg still isn't where I want it to be. What was different this time?"

"Well, the first time, the change of scenery was bad for me, I think," said Remus slowly. "And Professor Dumbledore spoke with me before this one..."

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore," said Madam Pomfrey. "I asked him earlier if there was anything he could do, and he said he'd talk to you—how'd it go?"

"It went well, thank you. He managed to convince me to give him the memory of the last transformation, so that he could..."

"What?" Madam Pomfrey interrupted again. "He... he did? You did that? You?"

"Yes...?"

"Sorry, Remus, you just don't seem like the type. You told me over and over again that it was personal."

"I'm not the type. I don't know why I did it. I kind of wish I hadn't, it's... not something I want anyone to see. But he helped, a little."

"May I ask what he told you?"

"He fixed up the furniture. Said it was better for it to be the furniture than... than me. And he told me to grit my teeth and not to clench my hands... during the transformation. To avoid injuries on my palms like last time. And he also said that fretting beforehand seemed to make it worse."

"So that's why you brought the book?"

"Yes, and it helped tremendously. I never did that at home before; our cellar didn't have a light switch."

"How's this compared to your home transformations?"

"It's excellent," said Remus. He couldn't help gesticulating a bit—mere words couldn't describe how wonderfully perfect he felt. "I'm relaxed, I'm not in any pain at all..."

"You're also drugged to high heaven on that Pain-Relieving Potion," said Madam Pomfrey, smiling slightly, "so I wouldn't hold your breath. But I'm glad you're feeling well."

"Is that a letter from my mum?" Remus asked, changing the subject.

"It is indeed. I've agreed to read and respond to her full moon ramblings, as well as give her a rundown of your injuries afterwards. She says that she doesn't believe she shall ever be able to sleep on the night of a full moon."

Remus smiled wryly. "Yeah, me neither." Madam Pomfrey laughed.

That was his second ever genuine werewolf joke—well, one that had earned a laugh and not a confused look from his parents. He felt very proud of himself.

"Professor Questus came by," said Madam Pomfrey. "He told me that he'd be more than willing to help you catch up on the lesson you missed yesterday."

Remus furrowed his eyebrows. "He must be mistaken; I came to class yesterday."

"He says that he thinks it very unlikely that you were paying attention."

Remus sheepishly nodded. He hadn't been paying attention at all.

"Shall I tell him to come back tomorrow?"

"I'm feeling fine. He may come by whenever he's ready. What time is it?"

"Four in the afternoon. Remus, you don't have to see him. You seem to catch up just fine all by yourself, and I know that he's not particularly kind..."

Remus wondered if there was something going on between Questus and Madam Pomfrey. Questus had insulted Madam Pomfrey yesterday, too. He hoped that they got along; he liked both of them.

"It helps, Madam; truly it does. If he'd like to, then I'd be very grateful for his help."

Madam Pomfrey consented, and Remus picked up a piece of parchment and began writing a letter to his mother and father. Life wasn't necessarily good, but it was bearable—and that was all that Remus ever asked for.

And he felt great!

AN: Have you ever laughed so hard that it felt like a physical workout? Happened to me yesterday. I'm still sore. And... I don't even remember what I was laughing about.