Questus heard Pomfrey's voice from the flames again and rolled his eyes. It had only been—what, two hours?—since she had called last. Did she distrust him completely? Just because he had failed to save his sister as a twelve-year-old did not mean that he would fail to give an anxious werewolf a couple of potions as a highly-trained former Auror in his fifties. Really. He wasn't stupid.

"What is it this time, Pomfrey?" he asked, impatient. "And do try to keep your voice down. Lupin's asleep."

"He is?" Pomfrey sounded a little breathless, like she had just been running. "Good. I'm sorry, I only have a few minutes..."

"Wonderful. The fact that you're constantly Flooing me is getting rather annoying."

Pomfrey made a noise like a wounded sea lion. She sounded utterly distraught. "I need to make sure he's okay! He's my responsibility, you know, and I never should have left him like that!"

"Good heavens, woman, calm down. That Lupin boy was more calm than you are when he was literally bleeding out after his skeleton was violently torn apart two times in one night. Then again, he was also unconscious..."

Madam Pomfrey's hands were over her ears. "Stop it! Stop it, I..." She started to cry a little, and Questus rolled his eyes again.

"I'd say you have no right to be this distraught over something that isn't even your problem."

"Just because you don't have an ounce of empathy!"

"Empathy can be weakness, depending. Especially when you're trying to stay calm. Bedside manner is a very important concept; surely you knew that."

"I know, I just..."

There was the annoying trailing-off again. "Lupin has a particular aversion to finishing sentences too, you know." Questus pushed a log deeper into the fire, distorting Pomfrey's face slightly. "He's fine. He's not in pain, he's sleeping, and he's calm. He did panic a little because he couldn't button his shirt, but other than that he's been quite good conversation."

"Please tell me you didn't interrogate him again."

"Of course not. It's been nice and pleasant and all that nonsense. I very kindly refrained from asking all my questions, no matter how tempted I was. And he has a good sense of humor, you know."

"I know," said Pomfrey, who was finally calming down. "The night after is a little difficult," she added. "The Pain-Relieving Potion will wear off around midnight."

"Want me to give him more, then?"

"No, two full doses in twenty-four hours isn't healthy. He'll get used to it and fall asleep again. If he doesn't, give him a drop of Dreamless Sleep Potion—that should make him drowsy enough to ignore it. How's his arm?"

"He said it 'wasn't normal', whatever that means."

Pomfrey looked a bit worried. "For him, that's like admitting that it's about to fall off. Walked all the way back to the castle after the first moon, bleeding and pale as anything, and then proceeded to tell me that he wasn't in pain."

That did sound like Lupin. "Hm. Well, I'm sure you'll sort it out tomorrow morning when you come back. You usually do."

"Was that a compliment?"

"No. Only the truth." Questus yawned. "You should get back. I'll figure it out."

"Are you sure that you...?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I've literally been tortured before. Auror and all that. I know pain like the back of my hand. I'll handle it."

Questus dashed water over the flames with a flick of his wand, and Pomfrey's face—at long last—disappeared. She really was annoying.

Questus stayed up marking a few more students' essays (fifth years this time). He fell asleep around ten o'clock, his quill still in his hand. It was only a half-sleep—the kind to which he'd used to succumb during Auror stakeouts. He was drowsy and resting, but he wasn't fully oblivious—no, he was aware and alert, but getting the sleep that was unfortunately necessary for human—and werewolf, he supposed—survival.

At ten-thirty, he heard a small triumphant noise come from Lupin's bed. He lifted his head and squinted in Lupin's direction. Lupin was sitting up and smiling like a maniac. "What on planet earth, Lupin?" Questus asked.

The smile left Lupin's face entirely. "I didn't mean to wake you, Professor. I'm sorry... I only just... managed to button my shirt."

Merlin's beard. That's what all this was about? The two top buttons that Questus had left unbuttoned for him? Seriously? "How long have you been awake?"

"About twenty minutes. The... the potion's wearing off, and I can't sleep."

"The Pain-Relieving Potion?"

"Yes, sir. And I'm not really tired, not anymore. I slept nearly all day."

"So you're in pain, then?"

"No, not really... It hasn't completely worn off. It's only a little uncomfortable."

"I see." Questus pushed his spectacles up his nose and continued reading over student essays. He couldn't go to sleep now, not when Lupin was likely going to need his assistance in an hour or two. To his dismay, the ink from his quill had leaked a little onto his robes while he'd been sleeping. He muttered a cleaning spell and shifted in his chair in order to get rid of the crick in his neck.

"You can go to bed if you'd like," offered Lupin after a moment of silence, and Questus nearly scoffed aloud. What an absolutely ludicrous suggestion.

"I believe you're going to need help when that potion does completely wear off," he said. "And Pomfrey'll have my head if I leave you alone."

"I'll be fine..." said Lupin, ever incredibly stubborn.

"You most certainly will not be. Now, you don't have to sleep, but I'd prefer quiet."

Lupin nodded, mumbled an apology, and colored a little. Questus wasn't sure why Lupin was embarrassed—all Questus had done was make a reasonable request. Questus was good at those. Reasonable and polite: that was him. Well, maybe not that last one.

Forty-five minutes later, Questus looked up again to see Lupin sleeping again, which was understandable. There wasn't much else to do, after all.

Questus finished reading essays and was incredibly bored all of a sudden. He looked at his watch. It was almost midnight, but Lupin wasn't awake yet. That was a pity. Questus was terribly interested to see what would happen when the potion wore off.

He sighed, stared at the wall for a few minutes, and then pulled out a spare bit of parchment and began making a chart. The itch wasn't satisfied quite yet, and by golly, he was going to try to remedy that. And Questus always took notes when he was trying to figure something out. Notes were his specialty.

Werewolf - grew up alone for fear of others finding out/complete solitude besides parents. Effect: fear of getting close to peers, trouble controlling emotions, lack of personality (current mindset mostly influenced by parents), lack of filter, attitude towards adults is questionable
Werewolf - grew up in constant pain. Effect: incredibly stubborn, feels he can handle everything, resists help, very prideful, wants to be in control and is disrespectful in the attempts to gain it
Werewolf - alone a lot as a child. Effect: read a lot, memorized poetry (!?), strange obsessions and interests (b/c they were not influenced by peer pressure like most other children his age), a little eccentric, very book-smart and not very street-smart (never really had a chance to apply intelligence past things pertaining to his old lifestyle)
Werewolf - surrounded by Dark things. Effect: dark and sarcastic sense of humor at times
Werewolf - trauma. Effect: jumpy, skittish, Pomfrey mentioned nightmares
Werewolf - treated badly by others b/c of prejudice. Effect: tends to worry. Mostly respectful. Disrespectful occasionally, but feels guilty afterward. Default mindset unless proven otherwise: everyone secretly hates him. Apologizes CONSTANTLY. ugh
Werewolf. Effect: guilty, constantly. Willpower, bravery (hence Gryffindor)

Questus tried very hard to think of a personality trait of Lupin's that was not somehow influenced by his lycanthropy. He could not, and he wasn't quite sure how to feel about that. Perhaps that would develop later, after spending some time around children his own age. Like that Black, Potter, and Pettigrew. They weren't the best influences, no, but their brash and unapologetic natures were sure to balance out Lupin's flaws. Maybe?

In all honestly, Questus was confused. He still wasn't sure what to think of Lupin, and he certainly wasn't sure what would become of him. It wasn't as if the boy had much of a future: few people would ever hire, interact with, or even talk to the likes of him.

And Questus hadn't even liked werewolves much before he'd met Lupin (well, he still didn't, but at least he didn't completely distrust them anymore). It had taken a while before Dumbledore had been able to convince him that Lupin wasn't, in fact, dangerous and evil. Questus wasn't often wrong, and he was trying to figure out why he had been so in this case. But perhaps he hadn't been? It was entirely possible that Lupin was still evil, though Questus sincerely doubted it. He'd have to be a very, very good actor.

Suddenly, he heard a faint whimper coming from Lupin's bed. There it was, then. Questus folded up the parchment, stuck it in his pocket, and then stood up to figure out what to do with the kid. He was lying flat on his back, his eyes were screwed shut with a ferocity Questus did not think possible, and his face was wet. Questus wasn't entirely sure whether it was tears or sweat. It was too dark to tell.

"Right, then. How are you feeling?" Questus asked.

"Brilliant," came Lupin's watery and pitiful reply. Well, it had been a stupid question.

"I'm not sure what to do," said Questus, though he knew that Lupin probably wouldn't give him any sort of instruction. "Typically, when Aurors are injured on the job, we just leave them alone to deal with this sort of thing by themselves. That's not what Pomfrey insinuated I should do."

"Go a-ahead... I don't... mind," said Lupin, obviously struggling to force the words out.

"How's your arm feeling?"

"S'f-fine..."

"I see. Do you think that you could fall asleep on your own?"

Remus nodded painfully, gritting his teeth, and then lifted his right arm to mop at his face and squinched his eyes open. He really did look awful. Questus cast the Wand-Lighting Charm to get a better look at him, and Lupin made a small noise as the light shone directly into his eyes. Oops.

"You don't look that great."

"Really? F-feeling wonderful."

"Oh, shut up. Let me change the dressings on your arm again, you're leaking through the bandages."

Remus bit his lip with a ferocity that was almost painful to watch and ended up drawing blood. Questus wondered vaguely if the taste of blood was soothing to werewolves in human form as well as wolf. He opened his mouth to ask the question, and then thought better of it and closed his mouth. Oh, no. Was he, John Questus, growing a filter? He nearly laughed. That was new.

"Try to get back to sleep, Lupin. Count sheep. Recite that poetry of yours in your head. I don't care; all I know is that Pomfrey will likely lose her head if you don't get to sleep tonight." He unwrapped Lupin's arm, and Lupin's breathing became even more heavy and staggered. Questus probably should have waited until later in the night. Oh, well, he had no doubt that Lupin could handle it. "Breathe, Lupin. You're not breathing."

Lupin was very obviously not having a good time as Questus wrapped his arm again. "Honestly," said Questus, refusing to treat Lupin like a child, "breathing isn't that hard. In. Out. Infants can do it."

Lupin drew a shuddery breath.

"No, it's got to be more even than that." Questus waited a moment. Lupin still could not breathe properly.

"I'll give you fifteen minutes; then I'm giving you a Dreamless Sleep Potion." Questus sealed the dressings with a quick spell before filling Lupin's water-cup again. "Frankly, this is annoying and I don't want to sit here and watch you for very long if it's not necessary. Want something to eat to settle your stomach?"

Lupin shook his head. Which was just as well, seeing as he clearly wasn't in the state to eat.

"Right, then. Fifteen minutes."

Fifteen minutes passed, and Lupin was soon snoozing silently once again.

Questus couldn't say that he wasn't impressed.

Remus hated full moons.

He awoke the next morning with his head aching something terrible and his arm feeling as if it were on fire. He sat up, and pain shot through his limbs and torso. Everything hurt.

"Morning," said Professor Questus, pushing the spindly wire spectacles up higher on his nose. Everything seemed underwater, somehow—Remus' head was spinning and there was an ocean in his ears. Questus was writing something, but Remus couldn't make out the words. With a jolt, he realized that his vision was blurry.

"I can't see," he said.

Questus' blur of a head moved. "Not at all?"

"It's blurry," Remus clarified, "like I'm opening my eyes underwater."

"Well, Pomfrey'll be back soon. The girl's all healed up; they're coming back at about seven-thirty."

"What time is it now?"

"About six." Questus' face looked a bit like blurry pudding, and Remus giggled.

"Everything's blurry," he said.

"Yes, you've already said that."

"No, like, really..." Remus gesticulated, ignoring the shooting pains traveling up his arms. "Really, really, really blurry. Ow."

"How are you feeling, other than the blurry vision? You were in pain last night, if I remember correctly. Acted like the world was ending."

"Fire or ice?"

"What?"

Remus giggled again. He wasn't sure why he was finding everything so funny today. He recited some Robert Frost at rapid-fire speed. "Some say the world will end in fire some say in ice I hold with those who favor fire if it had to perish twice I know enough of hate to say that for destruction ice is also great and would suffice..." Remus couldn't remember the rest and trailed off. He was pretty sure that he had skipped a couple words, but he couldn't really remember what words even were at the moment.

Questus's blurry figure was still, but Remus could imagine the stern look on his face. "I didn't understand a word of what you just said, Lupin."

"Oh, neither did I," Remus said. "Poetry, you know? Hardly anyone understands it, least of all me."

"Hm." Questus stood up, walked towards Remus, and knelt next to his bed. "Look at me."

Remus did, and Questus' face was clearer now that it was a little closer. "Was last night the full moon, then?" Remus asked.

Questus furrowed his brows. "No."

"Oh."

There was a long moment of silence; Questus was still looking Remus dead in the eyes. It was getting a little uncomfortable, so Remus looked away. "No, look at me," Questus chastised. "Your pupils are dilated. You're a little cross-eyed, too. You don't look good at all, Lupin."

"Well, that's not very nice," Remus said. His words seemed to be smushing together like the cheese in a hot sandwich. That was funny.

"Slurred speech," Questus noted. "Probably a concussion. Major blood loss. Some sort of head injury, at least. What did you do to yourself?"

"I think I remember bumping against the wall," Remus said helpfully. "Trying to escape and all that. Oh, and I fell off of the stairs."

"The stairs?"

"In the house. The S-S..."

"Shrieking Shack."

"Yesssss, that. I fell off the stairs. It's hard to use them with four paws and an insane fixation on murdering humans."

Questus snorted a bit, which made Remus giggle. He sounded like a horse when he did that. Or a unicorn. Remus had never seen a unicorn, but he'd read about them. Or maybe even a fire-breathing dragon. Remus had seen a fire-breathing dragon once. There had been an infestation of tiny ones in one of his old houses—probably the one in France. They'd been about the size of Chocolate Frogs, and they'd hopped all across the grass in the yard and swam in the pond. Once, Remus had tried to pick one up—it had burned his finger, but only a little bit. Remus remembered how funny they'd looking, hopping all around the place, and laughed.

"I don't know why you find that funny, it must have been very unpleasant," said Questus. "I'm not going to try to fix this until Pomfrey comes back; I'm sure she's dealt with head injuries before. This seems like an unnaturally severe one. I do hope that you won't remember any of this. You'll probably insist on being embarrassed."

Remus wasn't paying much attention. "Your... why do you have sssspecta-pecti-cles?" Spectacles was a funny word.

"I only use them when I'm reading for long periods of time," Questus replied, retreating back to his chair. "Reading with blurry vision gives me headaches. So do children. I might as well only deal with one of the two."

"There is no frigate like a book to take us lands away nor any coursers like a page of prancing poetry this traverse may the poorest take without oppress of toll how frugal is the chariot that bears the human soul."

"I'm going to ignore that. Your speech is getting worse. Here's another Blood-Replenishing Potion. I expect the blood loss is contributing to all this as well."

Remus drank it and made a face. "There are fairy wings in this," he said, poking the empty cup with his finger.

"If you don't want to ingest fairy wings for some ridiculous noble reason, then you should know that they can be harvested without hurting the fairy."

"I'm a vegetarian though."

"How could I forget?" Questus' blurry figure sat back down and Remus closed his eyes.

"Haha, tha'sss funny, I can feel it working if I lie really still..."

"Hm." Questus did not sound impressed.

There was a moment of silence. Remus felt very tingly. "What are you writing?" he asked, now aware that Questus' quill was scratching against parchment.

"Notes. For you."

"For today's class?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, P-p-roffff..."

"Don't even try."

Remus leaned back. "I'm cold."

"Yes, you seemed a little feverish. Your speech is improving a little."

"That's good. I didn't want to sound like an idiot forever, even if..." Remus passed out in the middle of his sentence.

He awoke to the sound of Madam Pomfrey's voice. "...what were the symptoms, then?"

"Slurred speech. Dilated pupils. Blurry vision. Delirious. Feverish. Either he drank a gallon of Firewhiskey last night or there's something else going on."

"Hullo, Madam Pomfrey," said Remus.

"Oh, Remus! I'm glad you're awake. Here, take this." Madam Pomfrey thrust a potion at Remus, and he eyed it suspiciously.

"There are frogs' eyes in this..."

"You don't know that, Mr. Lupin."

"I do!"

"His sense of smell is better than you'd expect," Questus cut in. "I imagine he'll taste them with frightening clarity."

Remus made a face and drank the potion before he could change his mind. "It tastes like..." Suddenly, his vision went in and out of focus and his head spun. He blinked until the nausea and dizziness cleared. "What happened?"

"You had a head injury," said Madam Pomfrey in her Matron Voice. "It's all clear now."

Remus rubbed his temples. He didn't have much memory of anything past last night. "Is the girl all right? The one with whom you were at St. Mungo's?"

"With whom," repeated Questus, shaking his head. "That potion worked like a charm."

"She's fine," said Madam Pomfrey. "They could have let her out much earlier, if you ask me. How was yesterday and last night?"

"Fine," said Remus, before slapping a hand over his mouth in horror. "I was injured, Madam Pomfrey, I'm allowed to forget things, it's understandable, isn't it?"

"Nope," said Madam Pomfrey, dropping a cap in the jar.

Remus groaned. "I'm not feeling completely terrible."

Madam Pomfrey wrote it on the list of banned phrases. "Try again."

"It was... it was... acceptable! Satisfactory! I received adequate care!"

Madam Pomfrey wrote them all down.

"I was in a lot of pain, I had a head injury, apparently, my left arm is mangled, and I couldn't button my shirt. Although," Remus said, rather proud of himself, "I did manage it at about ten-thirty."

"After twenty minutes of trying," teased Questus, and Remus liked him less.

"You're still feverish," noted Madam Pomfrey, undoing the dressings on his arm. Remus winced a little and tried not to cry out. Questus let out a low whistle.

Remus looked at his arm, which was turning a nasty shade of purple. He narrowed his eyes. "It wasn't like that last night."

"Professor Questus can't have done a very good job, then," snipped Madam Pomfrey, and Remus' mouth fell open.

"He did wonderfully! I'm feeling... almost well, see?" Madam Pomfrey wrote the offending phrase down.

"You needn't defend me, Lupin," said Questus, evidently amused. "I think that Pomfrey knows that I did nearly as well as she could have, and far above and beyond what is expected of a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Madam Pomfrey went pink.

"In fact," Questus continued, "perhaps I could request a pay raise. I'm going to do that right now, in fact. Think Dumbledore would give me one?"

"Isn't spending time with me rewarding enough?" Remus asked innocently, and Questus laughed.

"Absolutely not."

He left, and suddenly everything felt normal once again.

AN: Was busy this morning, so this chapter came out a couple hours later than they usually do. So I'll go ahead and publish two today! You're welcome!