After Madam Pomfrey brought Remus back to the castle, James, Sirius and Peter waited approximately fifteen minutes before pounding on the door of the hospital wing, loud and insistent enough that they were able to get an exasperated Pomfrey to let them in. "Your friend needs rest," she told them, but of course they paid her no attention.
"Remus," James said brightly, jogging over to his bed like he hadn't seen him just a few minutes ago. "You look well, mate."
Remus's smile was wide enough to reach his eyes. "I feel well." He was very pale, and he looked as exhausted as he always did after the full moons—his transformation was painful and taxing even without his wolfish self doing everything he could to tear Remus apart—but for the first time since James had started coming to visit him in the hospital wing, Remus wore no bandages or poultices, and his body was free of fresh wounds. With no other patients in the hospital wing, Pomfrey looked like she had no idea what to do with herself.
"I can't believe it," James heard her murmur as he and Peter and Sirius all piled up onto Remus's bed. "He's never looked like this after the moon."
James blinked, surprised, and shared a glance with Sirius over Remus's head: although Pomfrey had realized that the Marauders knew Remus's secret a while ago, she'd never brought up his lycanthropy so directly around them.
"Did Remus not tell you?" Sirius said suddenly. "About the Lycana Potion?"
"Lycana Potion?"
"Oh, yeah, the Lycana Potion," James said, catching on. "It's a potion that makes werewolves fall asleep when they transform."
"Sleeping draughts don't work on werewolves," Pomfrey said skeptically.
"Well, this one does. It was only just discovered—Slughorn brewed a whole batch of it for Remus before the moon. I'm surprised he didn't mention it to you."
"Er, I must've forgot." Remus frowned and scratched his chin. "We were sort of in a rush last night—I suppose it slipped my mind." Remus was a surprisingly good liar when he wanted to be; there was something inherently trustworthy about him that threw off even the most shrewd professors and matrons.
"I've never heard of this new potion," Pomfrey murmured. "I must ask Slughorn about it."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Sirius said quickly. James clenched his hands into fists: shit. "Slughorn…. He only learned of the potion when one of the professors from Durmstrang suggested it to him. He's a bit touchy about the whole thing—you know what he thinks of Durmstrang, after all."
"Durmstrang?" Pomfrey raised her eyebrows at the boys skeptically. "Something tells me this potion didn't come from Professor Slughorn at all." James and Sirius gave her their best lovably guilty grins.
"Oh, very well." Pomfrey sighed, crossing her arms. "I suppose it is of no matter to me. I certainly won't raise a fuss over having less injuries to tend to, or a bit of relief for Remus." Remus smiled at her—Pomfrey had grown very fond of him, James knew, which certainly helped them get away with this whole thing. "Please convey my thanks to this mysterious potion brewer for their efforts."
"Will do," said James.
"It's quite a potion," Sirius added. "Took three whole years for them to make."
"But one hundred percent worth it," Remus said as he threw his arms around the other three. He really did look happy, James thought. More than happy: he looked hopeful, possibly for the first time in his life. No one could cure his lycanthropy, but the Marauders could give him the next best thing.
James pulled Remus closer and gave him a quick kiss on the temple. "One hundred percent," he told him.
