Tuesday, January 24, 1978
"I'm not wandering all around the grounds," Remus said after Sirius explained about his detention and James suggested a slight tweak to their usual routine. "What if someone sees me, and then sees me as Moony and puts two and two together? Besides, I don't like the idea of transforming out in the open. The first few minutes are when I'm the most dangerous. What if you can't handle me and I bolt?"
He sat propped up in bed, fiddling with a bit of skin on his cuticle. There was a hard, stubborn set to his jaw, and for a moment James considered giving in, because arguing with Remus when he dug in was like going up against a brick wall. Yet he had to try, so he hitched a smile onto his face despite a growing feeling of trepidation and clapped Remus on the shoulder.
"I can handle you. Give me some credit. Nobody's going to see you because who would be out in the cold at that time of night? But if it makes you feel better, we'll take the cloak." He ran a hand through his hair and looked to Sirius and Peter for validation. "It'll be great, won't it?"
"I could just skip detention," Sirius offered. "Macintyre can sod off and I'll deal with the fallout later."
"No, too risky," James said. "What if he sends McGonagall to look for you and she realizes we're not here?"
"I agree with Prongs," Peter said. His voice was soft and he looked down at the floor, fiddling with the cuff of his pajamas. "It'll be alright, Moony."
Remus sighed and rested his head in his hands. His movements were slow and labored, and there was pain etched on his face.
"Alright, fine. But if things go wrong and I hurt either of you, I'll never fucking forgive myself."
James grinned, hoping his confidence could banish the anguish from his friend's face.
Hours later in the Shrieking Shack, the Snitch's wings fluttered against James's palm until he opened his hand and released it into the air. It flitted to the left and hovered by his ear; in the hushed silence he could hear every beat of its wings. He let it drift further away, then grabbed it just before it flew out of reach.
"Neither of you saw that?" he asked, feigning disappointment. "What's the point of showing off my excellent Quidditch skills if neither of you are going to tell me how brilliant I am?"
"Sorry, Prongs." Peter looked up from the Transfiguration textbook he had been paging through listlessly. "I'm sure it was brilliant, though."
Remus didn't reply. He sat hunched over the small fire he had conjured, warming his hands and staring into the flames. The firelight threw his pallor into sharp relief and illuminated the gray scattered throughout his sandy hair.
"Moony? You good?"
Remus said nothing, but inclined his head in a tiny, jerky nod. Seeing as it was the most communication they had gotten out of him in the last half hour, James decided to consider it a win. He released the Snitch again and counted to five before reaching sideways to catch it. He derived no amusement from the activity, yet he kept it up, seeking some semblance of normalcy. Peter's hands were clenched around his textbook as he gnawed at his lower lip, and Remus stared into the fire in stony silence. If James didn't pretend everything was fine, they would all fall apart.
"What time is it?" he asked, although he still wore his watch and could check the time himself. "Should we head to the forest, do you think?"
Remus gave a grim nod and struggled to his feet. James hurried to help him, but Remus shook him off. He braced himself against the wall, then kicked off his shoes and removed his jumper and trousers.
"You're going to freeze out there," Peter said, his forehead creasing with concern.
"No I won't," Remus said as he pulled his shoes back on and wrapped himself in a blanket. "I'm not leaving my clothes out in the open. What if someone sees them?"
"At least wear your shoes," James reasoned. "We can hide them under the snow. You'll get frostbite without them."
Remus sighed and shoved the shoes back onto his feet, then crossed the room and stepped through into the tunnel. James and Peter exchanged a look before following, slowing their paces to match Remus's slow steps.
The night air bit at James's exposed skin, and he thought longingly of the common room fire and the warmth of Lily's embrace. They followed Remus, guided by his footprints and the crunch of the snow as he plodded along, hidden by the Invisibility Cloak. By the time they reached the forest and he slipped off the cloak, his pace had slowed to a crawl. They wended their way through the trees; twice Remus tripped over roots and stones hidden by the snow. When he finally decided they had gone far enough, he collapsed onto his knees and leaned back against the trunk of a tree.
"You'd better transform," he said, handing the cloak to James to drape across a tree branch for safekeeping. "It's getting close." He stood, then removed his shoes and the blanket, shoving both behind the tree to get them out of the way. The wind had picked up again, and he gritted his teeth and wrapped his arms around himself as he stood there in a shirt and pants.
"Aren't you cold?" James asked as Remus sagged against the tree trunk, his feet scrabbling against the snow in only a pair of socks.
"I'll be fine in a minute," Remus said, his teeth chattering.
James nodded at Peter, and then they both transformed. The frigid air was bracing against his fur, and James felt excited energy coiling within his long limbs. He longed to run, to stretch his legs as the air buffeted his face, leaving his problems behind as the joy filled his mind and drove out all other thoughts. The minutes crawled by, and then he heard a low moan followed by a series of sickening cracks. He tried to focus on the sound of the wind and not the sound of skin tearing, limbs lengthening, bones breaking and reforming. When he heard a soft growl and the scrape of claws on the icy ground, he turned his head and looked into the wolf's wide yellow eyes.
Come on, Moony. I know you're in there. He froze, his heart pounding as the wolf bared his teeth, his long tail swishing back and forth. Time slowed as they watched each other, then the wolf sprang forward and James dodged to the side to avoid him. He expected the wolf to come back for more, him lunging and James darting away just in time, over and over again until the wolf tired of the game. But instead the wolf sensed something in the distance and took off before James had time to stop him. Bloody hell.
His long legs propelled him forward as he chased after the wolf. As the trees thinned, James gained on him and cut in front to head him off. The wolf ground to a halt, growling at something over James's shoulder. James turned and froze, his heart thudding against his chest: Hagrid was walking along the edge of the tree line, hunched against the wind in his moleskin coat. Time slowed down again as the wolf sniffed the air, his eyes following Hagrid's movements. Turn around, James thought desperately. Turn around and go back to your hut. But Hagrid continued on his way, and James could hear faint snatches of cheerful whistling over the sound of the wind. The wolf's ears pricked up and he took a step forward, preparing to lunge–
James hurled himself at the wolf and struck out with his front hooves. He saw fury flash in those yellow eyes, and he scrambled away in the opposite direction. Trees and bushes whipped past as he drew the wolf deeper into the forest. James couldn't outrun him forever, but if he could just get a little further… He pushed himself faster, gaining speed until the forest was a blur around him and he was no longer in control.
He lost his footing and went sprawling, and then the wolf was on him. There was an explosion of pain as claws raked his side and razor teeth sank into his leg. His nerves were on fire, screaming in protest as he thrashed around, trying to get free. He kicked out and made contact with soft flesh, and the wolf yelped and released him. James met the wolf's gaze, searching for a glint of humanity behind the frenzied blood lust. The wolf tilted his head sideways, then sniffed at the blood splashed across the snow-covered ground. He took a step forward and stopped, distracted as a distant bark rent the silence.
About time, Padfoot, James thought as the shaggy black dog bounded through the trees and came to a stop beside them. He whined softly as he took in the gruesome scene, approaching with slow, cautious steps to examine the jagged gashes on the stag's body. Their eyes met, and a silent communication passed between them, then Sirius rolled onto his back and thumped his tail against the ground. When the wolf let out a playful bark, Sirius got to his feet and took off into the forest. After a moment the wolf followed, leaving James alone to struggle to his feet as steam rose from his wounds into the bitter night air.
Each movement sent a wave of pain crashing through his body, but he forced himself to retrace his steps back to the tree where he had left the Invisibility Cloak. When he caught a glimpse of the silvery cloak draped over the low-hanging tree branch, he collapsed onto the ground, his injured leg protesting as it jarred against a root. Every ragged breath hurt, and he tried not to look at the bright red spattering the ground beside him. I'm losing too much blood, he thought, but he couldn't muster the energy to stand up again. Come on, you've got to move.
"Prongs!"
Peter stood over him, his face pale and somber in the moonlight. As his eyes traveled over James's wounds, what little color he had left drained from his face.
"Fucking hell, what did you do to make Moony so mad?"
James took several more deep breaths before transforming back into human form. Leaving his stag body did nothing to lessen the pain, and James gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut to stop from crying out.
"I stopped him from attacking Hagrid," he muttered, digging his nails into his palm to distract himself from the throbbing in his leg. "Kicked him. Had no other choice."
"Shit." His gaze returned to James's wounds, and he gave a defeated shake of his head. "You've got to go to the hospital wing. I can't heal this. The cuts are too deep. Unless Padfoot—"
"Padfoot is keeping Moony busy," James said through clenched teeth. "You've got to do it. I can't go to the hospital wing. How would I explain this?"
He nodded at his injuries, then looked away again. The sight of the blood pooling on the ground made him dizzy.
Peter didn't reply. He shifted from foot to foot and fidgeted with one of the buttons on his coat, biting his lip as he stared, transfixed, at the red stain seeping through James's trousers.
"Alright," he said, heaving a sigh. "Alright. But let's go back to the castle. You'll need dittany, and probably Blood-Replenishing Potion."
James let himself imagine collapsing into his bed with Lily beside him, fussing over his injuries and driving away his worries, but he shoved the thought aside.
"We can't leave Padfoot to keep Moony in check all night. Just do what you can here, and then in the morning we can—"
"No." Peter's voice was firm, the fear making him bold, and James felt the first prickle of real panic. If Peter was scared enough to argue, it must be bad. His heart began to race as he took quick, shallow breaths, and for the first time he allowed himself to examine his cuts. His clothing hid most of the damage, but through the shredded fabric he could see torn skin and blood, far too much blood. Spots appeared on his vision, and the sounds around him began to fade away…
"Prongs?"
The pressure of Peter's hand on his shoulder brought him back from the brink of unconsciousness, and he focused on the icy air going into his lungs. With a supreme effort, he tried to rise. He couldn't afford to panic, because if he panicked, Peter would panic, and then they would have no chance of getting back to the castle unnoticed, never mind healing James's injuries that were, admittedly, beyond what any of them had dealt with thus far.
"I'm fine," he said, bracing himself against the same tree trunk that Remus had leaned against earlier. "Grab the cloak, will you? And our wands." He hesitated, then sighed again. "I might need to lean on you a bit."
The ghost of a smile flitted across Peter's face. "No shit, Prongs."
He reached for the Invisibility Cloak and the wands tucked inside it, then offered James his hand. James took it with a grudging "Thanks," wrapping his arm around Peter's shoulder and leaning against him as they started for the castle. James moved even slower than he had as a stag, and he was grateful for Peter's solid, sturdy presence, even though he kept sneaking nervous, shifty glances at James's wounds.
They slipped on the cloak when they reached the castle, and Peter had to drag James up the front steps when his injured leg gave out.
"Almost there," Peter kept murmuring. "We're nearly there now, just a bit further." James wanted to shout, to tell Peter he didn't need the soothing encouragement, but he didn't have the energy.
Peter slipped out of the cloak to give the password as they came to a stop outside the portrait hole.
"What've you been up to?" the Fat Lady demanded, her eyes roving over the splotches of blood on Peter's clothes.
"Never mind," Peter said. "Razzle dazzle."
The Fat Lady frowned but swung forward, and Peter slipped back under the cloak to help James through the portrait hole.
The common room was full of chatter and laughter, but the Gryffindors were no more than a blur to James as he stumbled to the staircase and tried not to be a dead weight while Peter lugged him up to the dormitory. They were both sweating when Peter pushed open the door and deposited James onto his bed. Only when he heard her sharp intake of breath did James realize Lily was already there, tucked underneath the blankets wearing one of his t-shirts.
"Fucking hell, what happened?"
She clutched his hand as she took in his pallor and his torn, bloody clothes.
"I'm fine." He peeled the edge of his ripped sleeve from his blood-soaked arm, grimacing as it tugged at the ragged skin. "But I, er, don't recommend kicking a werewolf."
Mary sat up in Sirius's bed, her face clouded with worry.
"Where's Black?"
"He's fine," Peter assured her as he rummaged in Remus's trunk. "He's keeping Moony company."
"We've got to get you to the hospital wing." Lily pulled at his hand, but she let go when the movement made James emit a soft groan of pain.
"I can't go to the hospital wing," he muttered, gritting his teeth as he yanked at his shirt and pulled it over his head. The gash on his side oozed blood into the duvet, but he ignored it and began to pry at his trousers. "It'll give everything away. But it's alright. Pete's going to take care of it."
"Here, let me," Lily said, lifting his trousers away from his skin with slow, gentle movements. "No offense, Peter, but have you ever healed injuries like these?"
Peter's face grew even paler when he took in the fear on Lily's face.
"No," he croaked. "I told him it's beyond my abilities."
"Rubbish." A cold sweat broke out on James's forehead, but he ignored it, keeping his eyes fixed on Peter "You can do this, Wormtail."
"Can I watch?" Mary had slid out of bed and now stood beside Peter, clad in her usual bedtime ensemble that consisted of pants and one of Sirius's t-shirts. "I think I should learn a bit of healing magic, just in case."
"Me too," Lily said, pushing herself up into a seated position.
Peter turned pink and looked down at the floor. "Yeah, alright."
He poured a small vial of brown liquid over James's wounds before handing him a bottle of potion. James drank, trying to ignore the stinging pain as new skin began to form over the cuts. As James tightened his grip on Lily's hand, Peter dragged his wand over the biggest gash, knitting the torn bits of skin together.
"Did you just learn this on your own?" Mary asked as Peter turned his attention to the bite on James's leg. "But how did you practice?"
"We practiced any time one of us cut ourselves," James said, speaking for the both of them so Peter could give the healing spells his full concentration. "But that wasn't enough practice, so we had to, er, create injuries so we could practice enough to get good at it."
"James!" Lily said, her eyes wide with alarm. "You cut yourself just to practice healing?"
"We all did," James said. He breathed a sigh of relief as Peter drew the last cut together and handed James a bar of chocolate.
"I dunno, I thought maybe it would help," Peter said with a sheepish grin.
"Okay, Remus Lupin," James said, smiling weakly. He examined the newly-healed skin and gave a nod of approval. "Nice work."
Peter shrugged. "It'll do for now. I think I'll need to redo it in a couple of hours, so don't be alarmed if you wake up and I'm staring at your thigh."
"Look out. Evans might get jealous." James stifled a yawn. All of a sudden his eyes were too heavy to keep open. "Where are you going?"
Peter pulled a jumper over his blood-stained shirt before he headed for the door.
"You left a trail of blood from the entrance hall all the way to Gryffindor Tower," Peter said over his shoulder. "I want to clean it before Filch loses his mind."
"You sure Black will be okay?" Mary asked once Peter had left.
"He'll be fine." James used the last of his energy to scoot closer to Lily. "But it's sweet how concerned you are. I'll be sure to tell him."
"Oh, shut up." He could hear the grudging smile in her voice even though his eyes were closed. "Are you okay?"
James laughed, then stopped because it hurt. "I'm great. Fantastic. You should check on Wormtail when he comes back, though. He might be a bit…" He gave a vague wave of his hand with his uninjured arm, encompassing all the confused emotions that went along with the events of the evening. "He'll talk to you, you know? Although you might want to put on some trousers."
Mary laughed, and a moment later James heard her rummaging around in Sirius's trunk. Lily slid down in bed and pulled the covers over them. As she rested her head against his shoulder, he felt tears drop onto his bare skin.
"Hey," he murmured, reaching up to brush away her tears. "Don't cry, Evs . I'm fine, really."
"I know, I know. I'm sorry." She kissed him, and he could taste salty tears on her lips. "You scared me, that's all. I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you."
"Nothing's going to happen to me." He shifted his leg and grimaced as the sheets brushed against his tender skin. "Hagrid owes me a drink, though." He recounted the evening's events, glad to have something to focus on rather than the pain in his leg.
"How do you always manage to stay so calm?" Lily asked when he fell silent.
James considered his moment of panic earlier but decided not to mention it. It was easier for everyone if he remained his usual unflappable self.
"Someone's got to," he replied. "Otherwise we'd never figure our way out of situations like this. And we've got to, for Moony."
Her fingers traced his jawline, her touch the barest brush against his skin. "Do you think Remus will remember what happened?"
"Probably not. He'll be beside himself when he finds out. I don't see how we can keep it from him, though. He'll know something's up as soon as he wakes up and sees we're not there." He inclined his face toward her, heaving a sigh of contentment as her touch made him forget his pain. "Poor Moony."
"Poor Moony," she agreed. Her hand trailed down to his bare chest. "Do you want me to help you put pajamas on?"
"No." The potion had made him unbearably sleepy, and the thought of moving daunted him. "Unless you mind."
Her hand came to rest on the taut muscles of his stomach that she jokingly referred to as "Quidditch muscles."
"I don't mind at all."
She traced gentle circles on his back until he fell asleep, comforted by her presence and the soothing motion of her hands.
Wednesday, January 25, 1978
The shack was chilly and dark when Sirius woke, curled up on the floor. He stood up and stretched, then transformed and retrieved his wand from the hiding place under a loose floorboard. The room was silent except for Remus's slow, steady breathing as Sirius lit his wand and checked his watch. They still had a bit of time, so he sat down on the floor to wait. He rested his back against the wall and stretched his legs out in front of him, then opened a book he had left under the loose floorboard after the last full moon.
"Padfoot?"
Remus turned his head and squinted against the thin beam of wandlight. He shivered and pulled the blanket up to his chin, then looked around the room and frowned.
"Where are Prongs and Wormtail?"
Sirius hesitated for a fraction of a second, then grinned and set down his book.
"They already went back. Prongs was eager to get back to Evans."
Remus frowned. "And what was Peter eager to get back to?"
"I dunno, his hand?"
"Padfoot."
"Here," Sirius said, depositing Remus's clothes in a heap beside him in an effort to divert his attention from their friends' suspicious absence. "It's too cold to be naked, and you know it must be cold if I'm saying that."
He turned around to face the wall. The floorboards creaked as Remus got to his feet, and a moment later Sirius heard him swear under his breath.
"You all right?"
Sirius whirled around, preparing to catch Remus before he toppled over.
"Padfoot, for fuck's sake." Remus, still on his feet, held up his jumper to cover himself and turned away from Sirius. "How many times do I have to tell you not to bloody turn around?"
Sirius turned back to the wall, shaking his head in exasperation.
"And how many times do I have to tell you, I don't bloody care? Who the fuck do you think covered you with that blanket? I'm not looking, alright? But I'm not going to let you fall on your arse just because you're embarrassed."
"I'm not going to fall on my arse," Remus said, a hint of stubbornness in his tone.
"So what's the matter, then?"
Remus sighed."I left my pants and t-shirt in the forest," he muttered.
"So you're telling me there's a pair of Remus Lupin's pants lying under a pine tree somewhere?" Sirius asked, chuckling as he pictured the scene.
Remus sighed again, but then the sigh turned to reluctant laughter.
"They're probably just torn pieces of pants at this point. I transformed in them," he explained. "I wasn't about to stand naked in the middle of the forest."
"Why not? I've done it."
"Yeah, well, you've done all sorts of things that I have no desire to do."
"Are you dressed yet? I feel stupid staring at the wall."
Without waiting for a response, Sirius turned around in time to see Remus pulling his jumper over his head.
"I left my fucking shoes out there, too," he said, rubbing his temples. "What am I going to say to Pomfrey when she shows up and I have no shoes on? 'Sorry Pom Pom, I got hungry and ate them?'"
"They have this thing called a Summoning Charm," Sirius said. "You can actually use magic to get things that are out of reach — isn't that amazing?"
"Sod you." Remus sat down onto the ground and gave Sirius the two finger salute. "It's way too close to transformation for that much sarcasm out of you. I don't want my fucking pants and shoes flying through the air. What if someone sees?"
Sirius checked his watch. "What, at this time? Who's going to be out on the grounds, besides maybe Hagrid?"
The name seemed to spark a memory for Remus, because his eyes widened and he looked up at Sirius.
"Padfoot, did I…?"
His voice was low and urgent as his eyes traveled over Sirius. Too late, Sirius noticed the blood spattered across his boot and the leg of his trousers. Remus had seen it too, and any remaining color drained from his face.
"Hagrid's fine," Sirius said hastily. "This isn't from him."
Remus stared at his own hands, inspecting them as though expecting to find them stained with blood.
"Whose is it?" he asked in a tiny voice. When Sirius didn't answer, Remus raised his voice and repeated, "Padfoot, whose is it?"
"He's fine," Sirius said. Technically he didn't have any way of knowing this, but it was James. He always found a way to make it out of even the stickiest situations. He was most likely curled up in his bed next to Lily, a bit pale and tired but perfectly fine. He had to be.
"Who's fine?" Remus demanded. "Pads, what did I do?"
"Well I don't know exactly what happened — I wasn't there, but from what I can tell, you, er, may have tried to take a bite out of Hagrid, and Prongs stopped you, and I don't think you appreciated that very much."
Remus stared at Sirius, horrorstruck. "Did I hurt him?"
Sirius shrugged, banishing the images of James's gaping wounds that sprang unbidden into his mind.
"Just a couple scratches," he lied. "Nothing Pete couldn't fix."
Again he remembered the deep gouges in James's side, and he winced as he imagined Peter trying to heal such deep wounds. He can barely handle a simple cut, he thought. Bloody hell, I hope Prongs comes out of this okay.
"Fuck." Remus covered his face with his hands and lay back on the blanket, but after a moment he sprang up and began pacing around the room. "Fuck!"
"It's not your fault, Moony."
"Of course it's my bloody fault!" Remus stopped pacing and stood in front of Sirius, his eyes wide as he attacked a bit of skin on his cuticle. It began to bleed, and a drop of blood splashed down onto the floor. "How is it not my fault that I fucking mauled one of my best friends?"
"Mauled is a strong word," Sirius said, although privately he noted that it was accurate. "I said he has a couple scratches, that's all."
"I know you're minimizing it for my sake," Remus said, resuming his restless pacing. "Why can't you be honest and say I'm a fucking monster and I seriously hurt James?"
"Come on, Moony." Sirius put a hand on Remus's shoulder, but he jerked away..
"Don't fucking touch me," he spat, collapsing onto the ground and continuing to worry at his bleeding cuticle. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"
He looked close to tears, and Sirius felt a wave of helplessness wash over him. What could he do to help when Remus got into this mindset? He longed for his bed, and a cigarette, and Mary's head resting on his chest.
You sentimental idiot, Sirius chided himself. Thinking about Macdonald isn't going to help you now.
"There's nothing wrong with you," he said. "Well, besides that little detail that you turn into a werewolf once a month. But you've never killed anyone, you've never turned anyone into a werewolf, and you haven't seriously injured anyone. So I think you're doing okay."
Remus stared at him, his expression uncertain as he picked at his cuticle again.
"Thanks, Padfoot," he said, heaving another sigh.
"You're welcome," Sirius said, sinking down onto the floor and loosening his shoelaces. "Now listen to me for a second. Pomfrey is going to be here in a bit, and I know you wouldn't want her to find you upset like this." He pulled off one boot, then the other, and thrust them both at Remus.
"Why are you giving me your shoes?"
"Because your shoes are in the fucking forest," Sirius said. "And you won't let me Summon them, and you're in no condition to walk up to the castle barefoot."
Remus held the boot in his hand, his eyes full of conflicting emotions. Finally he sighed and began forcing his foot into the boot.
"Thanks," he muttered again without meeting Sirius's eye.
"Don't mention it." Sirius checked his watch, then stood and slid his hands into his pockets. "I'll see you in the hospital wing later," he said. "Don't beat yourself up, Moony. There's nothing you could have done to prevent this. It's not the best full moon we've ever had, but it is what it is, you know? No use getting all angsty and brooding about it."
Remus raised his eyebrows, and the ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "You're one to bloody talk about being angsty and brooding."
Sirius ignored that comment and headed for the door. "I'll go out later and get your shoes, but I'm not carrying your dirty ripped pants around," he called over his shoulder. "Say hi to Pom Pom for me."
He set off for the castle, ignoring the numbness already creeping into his feet and hoping he would find James asleep and unharmed in the dormitory.
By lunchtime Sirius was asleep on his feet, but he headed to the hospital wing to visit Remus after stopping in the Great Hall to get lunch for everyone. The rest of them were already there when he took his usual seat on the bed across from Remus. Mary scooted closer and stole a biscuit from his bag of food, but the rest of them were focused on Remus as he peppered James with questions.
"I'm fine, Moony," James insisted, shooing Remus's hand away when he tried to examine his injuries.
"Rubbish, you're bleeding," Remus said, staring at a small splotch of red spreading across the side of James's shirt. "Prongs…"
"I'm fine," James repeated. He glanced down at his side and frowned.
"I'll handle it," Sirius said, glancing at Remus before exchanging a meaningful look with James. "Let's go out into the corridor, though, so Pomfrey doesn't see us."
"Let Evans try," James said, covering the blood stain with his hand so Remus would stop staring at it. "You can do it, Evs, just do the small cut. I've already explained how to do it."
"Yeah, I'm sure you can do it if Wormtail can," Sirius said. "Come on."
He led the way out of the hospital wing and down the corridor, then ducked inside an empty classroom.
"Right, Evans, watch me, and then you can give it a try." He lifted James's shirt and dragged his wand over the largest cut. A tingly warmth moved from his fingers and through the wand into the gaping wound, slowing when it met the cruel, jagged remnants of creature magic Moony had left behind. Sirius bit his lip, pouring out more magic until it pooled and forced the creature magic to recede. He released a breath, watching as the flesh knit itself together.
"Bloody hell. I know I said this before, but I can't believe Pete healed this for you."
"He did a good job," Lily said, frowning in concentration as she watched Sirius working on a second cut. "You should give him more credit."
Sirius ignored her and pointed to a smaller scratch on James's back.
"You do that one," he said, rolling his eyes when she hesitated. "Oh, go on, Evans. Don't you want to impress Prongs? He'll be so grateful he'll rip your clothes off and—"
"Alright, alright," Lily said, nudging him aside. "And quit laughing," she said to James. "I can't do this if you're moving."
She dragged her wand through the air, then paused and looked up, her brows knitting together.
"It's–" Her voice trailed off and she butted her fist against her arm to demonstrate.
"It's fighting you," Sirius said, nodding. "It does that. It's the bit of Moony's magic that's left behind – it's stubborn, like Moony. That's why the cuts keep opening up."
"So what do I do?" Lily tried again, then shook her head and looked up at Sirius. "Maybe you'd better do it."
"Nah, you can handle it, Evans. You just have to show it who's boss. Throw a shitload of magic at it, and it'll back down."
"Throw a shitload of magic at it?" she repeated, eyebrows raised. "That's your helpful advice?"
Sirius shrugged. "Best I've got."
"No, he's right," James said, craning his neck to try to see the scratch. "You have to use twice as much magic as you think you need, so you can push the werewolf magic back, but also to keep the cut closed for as long as possible before it needs to be healed again. So in other words, yeah, throw a shitload of magic at it." He reached out and touched her shoulder. "You can do it, Evans."
She took a deep breath, then drew her wand over the scratch. Sirius sensed magic vibrating in the air and accumulating in James's skin, building and building until the torn edges of the cut joined together once more. Lily leaned against the wall, chest heaving from the exertion, and admired her handiwork.
"Not bad," Sirius said, giving her a thumbs up.
"I knew you could do it," James said, grinning and reaching for her hand to pull her in for a kiss. "Now if you ever need to do it in a more stressful situation, you'll know you can do it."
"Yeah, well, I figured I'd better take advantage of a chance to practice on an existing injury," she said darkly. "James told me what you three did to learn healing magic."
"It was just once or twice," Sirius said, shrugging. "What else were we supposed to do?" His tone turned serious as he lowered his voice and added, "Don't mention that to Moony, though. He wouldn't like it."
"Maybe we should leave my leg for now," James said, prodding the small spot of blood on his trousers. "I don't fancy taking my trousers off in the middle of this classroom."
"Don't be stupid, nobody's going to see besides me and Evans," Sirius said, a hint of impatience in his tone. "I don't care, and Evans has already seen it all. At least I hope she has, otherwise you're doing it wrong."
"Shut up," James said, giving Sirius's shoulder a gentle shove. "Alright, but hang on."
He took out his wand and pointed it at the door, muttering an incantation to lock the door before removing his trousers.
"James Potter," Sirius said, whistling. "Look at those thighs."
"Sod off," James snapped. "Don't make it weird."
"Yeah, yeah." Sirius knelt to examine the wound and bit his lip. "Fuck, Prongs," he said before he could stop himself; he had forgotten how bad the bite was. "That's, er, not great."
"No," James agreed. "But it'll be fine in a couple days. Just hurry up and heal it before Moony can overthink how long we've been gone."
"It's probably best if I do this one, Evans. See how the skin is sort of — sorry, Prongs — sort of torn and shredded around the edge of the bite? That makes it harder to heal because it resists going back together even worse than the scratches."
Lily gave a grave nod, then clutched James's hand and leaned in to kiss him again. Sirius rolled his eyes and set to work healing the bite. It took his full concentration, and he lost track of everything except the magic flowing through him. When he finished he was surprised to find Lily and James snogging as though they were alone in the classroom.
"And you told me not to make it weird? Fucking hell. Nothing bothers me, but this makes me feel weird." He stood up and headed for the door. "I'm going to go let Peter beat me at chess, because it makes Moony feel better, but I can just tell him you two are groping each other in an empty classroom…"
"Sorry, we're coming," Lily said, hurrying after him as she tugged her uniform back into place. "I'm just so glad he's okay, you know?"
James grinned and laced his fingers through Lily's. "Maybe I should let Moony attack me every full moon."
"No need." Sirius paused outside the hospital wing door to smirk at him. "Evans will snog you either way. I think it's the Quidditch muscles, because it can't be the hair… Oh, hi, Seven." He held the door open for her before following her into the hospital wing. "I actually heard the best way to make Moony feel better is to take off all your clothes and climb into bed with him. I know it sounds a bit unconventional, but who am I to argue with the medical experts? So we can all clear out now, if you want to give it a go…"
James stepped into the empty locker room and breathed in the familiar scent — a mixture of broom handle polish and the chemical tang of cleaning products, with a hint of sweat lurking underneath. He sank down onto a bench, grateful for a moment of rest and silence after dragging himself through the day. A twinge of pain shot through his leg, and his heart sank when he glanced down to see blood seeping through the leg of his trousers.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, sighing in irritation and pulling his wand from his pocket.
He had meant to have Sirius redo the healing spells before practice, but he and Lily had hung back in the dormitory after everyone else had left for dinner. Time had gotten away from him, and before he knew it he was jogging to the Quidditch pitch to make it with enough time to set up the balls and get his head in the right mindset before the rest of the team arrived. The combination of the exertion in the dormitory and running through the castle had been too much, and now his wounds were bleeding again sooner than expected. On top of that, he had forgotten to take another dose of Blood-Replenishing Potion, and he was starting to feel dizzy.
"Bloody fucking hell," he repeated, checking his watch before removing his trousers and inspecting the deep puncture marks on his thigh. Looking at the shredded flesh made him queasy, yet he had to look if he had any chance of healing it before he had to run Quidditch practice for the next two hours. Biting his lip, he began to drag his wand over the torn skin. The skin resisted and kept springing apart, but he kept trying until a sheen of sweat covered his forehead.
"James?"
He dropped his wand in surprise as he looked up and saw Seven in the doorway. The wand clattered to the floor, but he thought he might pass out if he rose to pick it up, so instead he just sat there scrambling to come up with an explanation as blood ran down his leg and pooled in his sock.
"What happened?" She hurried across the room and knelt to inspect his wound, emitting a small gasp as she took in the extent of the damage. "You need to go to the hospital wing."
"No I don't." He tried to move his leg out of her line of vision, but she put a hand on his knee to stop him. "Ooh, Evans wouldn't like that. Moony either."
She ignored his comment and looked up at him, her brows knitted in concern.
"James, how did you get this?"
He ran a hand through his hair. It occurred to him that skipping dinner had been a bad idea, seeing as he hadn't eaten any lunch, either. He hadn't eaten much at breakfast, and he was always too antsy to eat dinner on full moon nights, so his last proper meal had been yesterday's lunch.
"What's that rule, Seven? The one about minding your own business or whatever?"
James had been inventing all sorts of rules for the Quidditch team since fifth year when he was made Quidditch captain, but Seven was the only one who seemed to be able to keep all the rules straight. Now she crossed her arms and met his gaze with a quiet determination bordering on stubbornness.
"I don't think that rule applies in a situation like this," she said.
"This is exactly the sort of situation it applies to," James said, stretching out his uninjured leg in an attempt to retrieve his wand. He grazed it with his toe, but it rolled even further away. "Fuck — Seven, can you hand me my wand?"
She leaned sideways to grab it, but her eyes widened in alarm when he snatched it out of her hand and held it poised over his leg.
"You're not going to try to heal that yourself, are you?"
He sighed, ignoring the dizziness making his head spin as he tried to summon the focus needed for this complex task.
"That's the plan," he muttered. "Unless you know how to do it."
"Don't be stupid." She plucked the wand from his hand and placed it on the floor, well out of his reach. "You can't do this yourself. Now hold still."
He watched in detached amazement as she waved her wand and he felt the tingle of an antiseptic spell working its way through the bite.
"I was joking," he said as she dragged her wand over the bite, and he watched the wound get smaller and smaller until it was a tiny blemish on a smooth expanse of skin. "You actually know how to heal?"
She surveyed his leg and gave a nod of approval. "My dad's a Healer."
James's eyes widened. "I never knew that."
A small smile spread across her face. "Yeah, well, I'm full of fun surprises. He taught me a few things. Although that bite really put my skills to the test." She frowned down at his leg and shook her head. "It's almost like it was… fighting me."
James's eyes darted sideways, avoiding her gaze. She surveyed his leg for another moment, then shrugged. "Anyway, please tell me you don't have any other mysterious, concerning injuries."
James hesitated, then gave a wry smile as he pulled up his shirt to reveal the scratches on his side.
"What happened?" She set to work healing the scratches as well. "How did you get this?"
"Unfortunate run-in with a cat. You know that tabby cat Kath claims is a sweetheart? He keeps sleeping in my chair, and he almost took my head off when I tried to move him."
Seven rolled her eyes. "Well what do you expect, disturbing a cat when it's comfortable? But this isn't from a cat." She finished with the last cut and moved to sit beside James on the bench. "Cats don't have claws like that. Or teeth, for that matter. Come on, James. What did this to you?"
"Evans likes to get a bit rough?" he said hopefully.
She turned her head to glare at him. "James."
"Alright, alright." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. "It's not what did this to me, but who."
She frowned at him for a moment before her eyes grew huge with comprehension.
"So that means you're…"
He shook his head. "It's a really long story, but I'm fine." He lowered his voice and added, "I'm not, you know, infected. Just a bit banged up. "
She tugged at the end of her braid as she mulled this over. "So I'm just supposed to go along with this without asking any questions?"
"That would be best, yeah." His tone grew urgent as he added, "Definitely don't say anything to Remus."
"Doesn't he know?" She hesitated, twisting the end of her braid. "Doesn't he remember?"
James shrugged. "He remembers… something, but I don't think it's very clear. I haven't let him see how bad it is – we've told him it's just a couple of scratches. He doesn't need to know any more. He feels guilty enough already."
"Of course he does." Her face filled with sadness as she stared at the floor. James followed her gaze and noticed a tiny drop of blood beside his foot. "I won't say a word. I'd never want to make him feel worse."
James grinned. "I know you wouldn't. You love him, don't you?"
She blushed and crossed her arms. "Rule number 29."
"Which one's that?"
"The one about keeping your mouth shut if it isn't your business," she said with a wry smile.
"Remus Lupin's love life is always my business," he retorted. "I'll keep my mouth shut, though. But if you're waiting for him to say it first, you have a better chance of seeing Slughorn fit into that red dress Mary wore to his Christmas party."
She threw her head back and laughed, sending her braid tumbling over her shoulder. "Wow, what an image."
He ran a hand through his hair and grinned. "You're welcome." He glanced at his watch and stood up. "We'd better get out there. The rest of the team will be down soon."
"Don't be stupid. You're not going to practice."
He sighed in irritation. Standing up seemed to have been a bad idea, but he couldn't sit back down now, not if he wanted to maintain any semblance of dignity.
"Last I checked, I'm still Quidditch captain, and I decide who is and isn't going to practice, so yes, I am bloody well going to practice, Seven."
"Rule number 34." When her words were met with a blank stare, she elaborated, "Rule number 34: Quidditch isn't worth dying over."
"That's not what that rule is for–" he began.
"Rule number 23," she said, raising her voice to speak over him. "The rules apply to James Potter, too."
"Rule number 19," James shot back. "Don't argue with the captain."
Seven sighed. "No, that's rule number 18."
"What?"
"Rule number 18 is don't argue with the captain. Rule number 19 is avoid detention at all costs."
James frowned, searching his memory. He couldn't even remember making a rule about avoiding detention, but he had a nagging suspicion that she was right, because she nearly always was.
"Rule number 35," she continued. "Don't be a prat. You need rest, and a decent meal, and dittany, if you can get your hands on some. You're always banging on about how I'm going to replace you as captain next year, so why not let me run practice today? You won't do Gryffindor any favors if you fall off your broom."
Her mouth was set in a hard, determined line as her eyes bore into his, daring him to argue. He wanted to protest, he really did, but he had used up his last shred of energy trying to retrieve his fallen wand, so instead he sighed and nodded.
"Fine. Run through the same drills we did last time, except today I was going to–"
"I know," she said, holding up a hand. "You told us after practice on Monday."
"I didn't think anyone actually listened to my after-practice recap."
She grinned. "I always listen. Rule number five, right?"
"Rule number five," he agreed, grinning back at her. "Everything I have to say is important."
"Of course you remember that one," she said, rolling her eyes. "Do you need me to walk you back to the castle so you don't fall on your arse?"
He shook his head. "I'll be alright." He grabbed his bag and headed for the door, then stopped and turned back to face her. "Thanks, Seven."
The trudge back to the castle dragged on, and once inside he had to grab the banister twice to avoid tumbling backward down the stairs that led to Gryffindor Tower. When he finally reached the common room, he collapsed into his usual chair by the fire and closed his eyes as he heaved a sigh of relief.
"Are you dead, Prongs?"
James opened his eyes to see Peter peering at him, his face drawn into an anxious frown. Beside him Mary sat slumped in a chair running her hands through Sirius's hair as he sat on the floor, fast asleep with his head leaning back against her legs.
"Do I look dead?" James asked, scooting over so Lily could squeeze in beside him.
Peter hesitated. "No," he said, forcing a smile that didn't fool James, even in his half-conscious state.
"He's being polite," Lily said, biting her lip as she peered at James. "You look awful, actually."
He managed a weak laugh and leaned his head on her shoulder. "That's nice, Evans."
"You know what I mean." She kissed the top of his head and ran a hand through his hair. "You don't look well."
"I only asked because I thought death was the only appropriate reason to miss Quidditch practice," Peter said with a sheepish grin.
"Seven made me come back here to rest," James admitted. "She's running practice for me."
Sirius opened his eyes and tilted his head sideways to look at James.
"How long did I sleep for?" He glanced at his watch, then looked back at James. "Are you dying?"
Mary chuckled. "That's what Peter asked."
"No, I'm not dying." James ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Seven walked into the locker room and saw me with my trousers off–"
"Prongs, Evans is right there!" Sirius said, widening his eyes in mock-astonishment.
"Oh, shut up, it wasn't like that." He lowered his voice and continued, "My leg started bleeding again. I tried to fix it myself, but then Seven walked in and started asking questions."
"Do you need me to do it?" Sirius asked.
James shook his head. "Seven did it. Did anyone know her dad's a Healer?"
"No, but that fits," Lily mused. "I'm not surprised she knows healing magic. It's exactly the sort of thing she would know but never mention. I sort of love her."
"I do too," Mary agreed. "She's a bit mysterious, isn't she?"
"I wish Moony would just tell us what she's like in bed instead of holding out on us, the selfish git," Sirius said, shaking his head.
"Anyway, it was lucky she knew how to help, isn't it?" Peter said.
"Why was it bleeding again so soon, though?" Sirius said, frowning. "You should have been okay for a bit longer."
"Well…" James hesitated, his eyes darting to Lily. "I may have, er, overexerted myself a bit…"
Sirius smirked and raised his eyebrows. "'Overexerted.' Is that what they're calling it these days? I suppose that's why you two didn't come down to dinner?"
"They said they were napping," Mary said, fixing Lily with a searching look. "But napping doesn't take a lot of exertion, does it?"
"We did nap," Lily insisted, blushing. She glanced at James and lowered her voice. "Or I did, anyway."
"After the exertion." Sirius nodded and gave James a thumbs up. "Proud of you."
"I hate you both," Lily muttered.
"Evans, when are you going to realize it doesn't matter whether or not you admit when you and Prongs have, you know, been up to no good? He tells me every single time."
"James!" Lily turned to him, eyes wide with indignation. "Do you?"
"Padfoot, I'm going to kill you." He realized the threat lost most of its bite when he lacked the energy to even pick up his head, but he hoped the annoyance in his tone would make up for it.
"Well, if it makes you feel better, Evans, he doesn't always explicitly tell me," Sirius said, drumming his fingers against his knee. "Sometimes it's more of a smirky, knowing look."
"Oh, I know the look you mean," Mary said, trying to imitate it with limited success.
"Here," Peter said, thrusting a sandwich into James's hand. "I brought this back for you in case you were hungry after practice."
James bit into the sandwich, feeling absurdly grateful for the small gesture. He supposed it must be the hunger and blood loss making him sentimental, but he appreciated it all the same.
"Thanks, Wormtail," he said, chewing and trying not to drop any crumbs on Lily, as she was already irritated without him dropping bits of sandwich onto her.
When he finished eating he kissed Lily and extricated from her, standing up and brushing crumbs from his trousers.
"I'm going to go up to bed." He stifled a yawn, then rolled his eyes at Sirius and Mary when they smirked at each other. "No, don't look at each other like that, I'm actually going to bed."
"I'm coming too," Lily said, ignoring the suggestive looks from Sirius and Mary as she took his hand and followed him up the stairs.
Lily put her finger to her lips and pointed at Remus's bed as they stepped into the dark dormitory. While Lily drifted off to the bathroom, James changed into an old t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, then crawled into bed. He was trying to convince himself to get up to go brush his teeth when he heard a hoarse voice from the bed beside him.
"Prongs?"
"Yeah. Sorry we woke you up – we tried to be quiet."
"It's okay." Remus peered out of the opening in his curtains; James could just make out his face in the thin strip of light shining through under the bathroom door. "Are you okay?"
James gave an impatient sigh. "I'm fine, I've already told you."
Remus nodded, his face pale and grave in the near darkness.
"I'm so fucking sorry," he murmured, his voice heavy with weariness and emotion.
"I know," James said. "It's okay."
Remus shook his head. His eyes were so sad that James had to look away. "No. It's not."
James heard the words echoing in his head until he fell asleep, lulled by the soft sound of Lily's steady breathing as she lay wrapped in his arms.