TWs: Description of Injuries, and a Small Mention of a Traumatic Experience

...

"Darling, right over here," Madam Pomfrey called Remus over in an encouraging tone.

It hadn't occurred to Remus that the hospital wing might not be empty. Instead, there was a Ravenclaw clutching his stomach and muttering angrily about Quidditch, and a first year Slytherin whose tongue was swelling out of her scowling mouth. But Madam Pomfrey quickly and calmly escorted him to the private room in the back that would be "his" when he needed it. He swallowed down the panic that had risen in him at seeing two students in the cots. Madame Pomfrey insisted neither of them noticed and pointed out to Remus that she hadn't said his name just to be sure. Her extra measures touched him deeply. She even had a tub set aside that she warmed with a flick of her wand, then poured in a potion that would help with the soreness.

After he assured her he just felt a little sick and he could undress himself, she gave him the privacy he needed to get into the tub. He found the warm water to be a huge relief on his aching joints. He hadn't even realized he passed out until Madam Pomfrey gently shook him, attempting to pull him out of the tub. He was very drowsy, but he quickly realized the situation and shifted, face going red.

"Oh, none of that. I've seen it all before, dear," she tsked at him in her brisk air of normalcy that typically relaxed him.

He shook his head, glad the bubbles were covering the heinous scars that covered his body. He knew she'd be seeing them tomorrow morning. Still, he wanted to prevent that as long as possible. After a few more hearty tugs she gave up with a sigh.

"Have it your way then, darling." The matron sounded more exasperated than angry, but he still felt bad as she left. It took him a comically long time to dry himself off and get dressed into some old clothes. As he wobbled throughout the process, he came dangerously close to passing out several times, his vision coming in and out of focus. At last, Remus finished and set himself to his next ridiculously challenging task: making it onto the bed.

A few very long minutes later he managed to do so. He shivered, teeth chattering loudly, as he pulled a blanket up to his neck. Remus hated that his trousers and baggy shirt didn't cover nearly as much of him as he typically liked. Still, he wouldn't complain about the clothes 'stolen' from the lost and found, not unless he could provide his own robes every month. This was an unlikely prospect. Remus did not even have a knut to his name and he knew his school robes would get ruined if he took them to the shack.

Remus tried to stay awake as long as he could, but that wasn't very long. The physical strain of the pre-stages of transformation that got his body as ready as possible for the grueling night, coupled with the stress about it all, left him bone tired. So he shouldn't have been surprised he slept for hours. However, Madam Pomfrey waking him up with a gentle "its time, dear" sent him into a full-blown panic. His heart hammered loudly as he leaped from his bed and he hardly registered the sharp intake of breath that came from Madam Pomfrey seeing some of his scars.

Remus was too busy turning this way and that, wildly checking for, well, he wasn't entirely sure what. That he hadn't hurt anyone, he supposed.

"Madam Pomfrey, what time is it?" His small voice betrayed his fear. What if she got the time wrong and he was going to transform in the castle and kill people? He felt tears prick his eyes, dangerously close to falling.

"Remus, calm down. There's still a whole hour before the full moon," Madam Pomfrey assured him, soothingly rubbing circles onto his back as she instructed him to breathe. He coughed and coughed, his chest being painfully tight. Eventually, he calmed down enough and the panic faded away.

"There's a good lad. I didn't want to wake you since you seemed to need sleep. But would you like anything to eat or drink before we head out, dear?"

He shook his head, finding it impossible to speak right now. Some of the fear refused to leave him. It was enough to keep him choked up and had to force himself to focus on Madam Pomfrey's calming voice as she ran through other things he might want or need beforehand. It dawned on Remus after the matron suggested taking a blanket with him twice, that despite how un-shakingly calm she appeared to be, Madam Pomfrey was actually quite stressed.

"It...it will be ok, Madam," he reassured her, both for her sake and his. Her eyes turned to him and she looked close to tears as she smiled.

"Of course it will be, dear."

That seemed to settle it then. All too soon he was wrapping the blanket, having realized his scars were visible, tight around him and they were walking out onto the grounds bathed in the warm golden light of a nearly completed sunset. They reached the Whomping Willow with about 40 minutes to spare. However, after the matron showed him the trick to stop the branches and showed him around the little shack, there were only 30 minutes left until moonrise.

"Any questions, dear?" Madam Pomfrey asked patiently.

"No, but you really ought to leave I...I..." Remus stammered feeling the panic rise in him again.

"I know you like to have plenty of time, but are you sure this much is necessary? It's a long time to be all alone with no distractions," the matron tutted.

"It's necessary, ma'am," he assured her, feeling extremely fearful with her still in the shed. Madam Pomfrey frowned slightly, but he was too anxious to tell if she was upset at him or for him.

"Yes...well...I'll be leaving then," the matron said softly watching Remus with pity in her eyes.

He nodded and before he could stop her, she pulled him into a brisk hug. Remus realized after the fact that they both must have needed it.

"Good luck, darling," she called to him in goodbye, walking back over to the trap door that would lead her to safety and him all alone.

"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely, his eyes darting around the shed not wanting to meet her kind gaze. Then she was gone and he was trapped in the little shack.

He spent some time walking around, having been too stressed to pay attention to half of what Madam Pomfrey was showing him. He was surprised by how big the shack was and how attentively someone had gone through to make sure there were no sharp edges or sharp utensils the wolf might maim itself on. Still, despite all of this, Remus found himself dreading the morning. He was unsure if this much space would make things better or much worse for the wolf. The shack came with two stories, complete with a boarded-off bathroom and kitchen. So much space hardly seemed necessary. Though Remus supposed he was mostly worried about the prospect of the stairs.

The whole shack seemed so flimsy. But Dumbledore had assured him even ten fully grown werewolves wouldn't be able to get out once the door was sealed. He checked to make sure it was, and finally let out the breath he had been choking on.

He paced, but as the minutes trickled away so did any pretense of being in no pain. Slowly but surely the torment he was under increased. Madam Pomfrey had offered him something for the pain, but Remus knew from experience drugging the wolf didn't go well. Even when Remus had been smaller the wolf, then only a pup, seemed to fight against the drugs in its system which would result in more wounds for the little boy. Besides, he was so used to the pain after almost six years that it hardly seemed worth the supplies.

Finally, he succumbed to the crippling agony shooting through him and let out the first of many screams. He fumbled as he took off his clothes, barely managing to focus enough to place them in a drawer the wolf hopefully wouldn't be able to open. Then Remus curled on the ground and tossed around shamelessly like an animal in an attempt to ease the unbearable discomfort coursing through him. Thinking no one could hear him he groaned, then screamed some more in as his bones twisted then broke. He shouted until they turned into half screams half howls and then his night turned into a blur of rage and blood.

...

Remus was first aware of the pain. That was always the first thing to greet him when he became conscious of the fact he was a boy again. He habitually started to run through his self checklist to assess himself, but found he was too unfocused too. Normally Remus felt more aware of himself. For one second, he was afraid Madam Pomfrey had drugged him against his will somehow. Then the truth sunk in as the broken fragments of last night reached his exhausted brain: the wolf hadn't slept at all.

Instead, the wolf had preoccupied itself by repeatedly bashing its head against something, and Remus no doubt was suffering from a concussion now.

So last night had been worse than when he'd been at home.

"Seems like nothing will do any good in stopping the wolf's attempts to maul me," he thought bitterly. Of course, he had expected this. It was his first transformation from home in two years.

Next of his senses to return was his smell, which was overwhelmed with the odor of copper and something else nearly equally unpleasant. Remus felt his face go red. It appeared the wolf had wasted no time in marking his territory. He felt like such a monster, such an animal because of it. He didn't want Madam Pomfrey to come to see him like this, covered in urine and blood. Remus groaned and though he knew it was foolish, tried with all his might to sit up.

Pain exploded across his abdomen, so sharp and intense that he crumpled backward and passed out into the blissful nothingness that he normally fought so hard against.

...

"Shh, it's alright, dear. It's just me, and I'm just patching you up as much as possible before taking you back to the castle," Madam Pomfrey explained, her voice sounding hazy.

Remus realized he had been making painful mewling sounds and he abruptly stopped. Once more he was left feeling more animal than boy. He wanted to talk, wanted to at least open his eyes. But his throat was dry and burning, and his eyes were forced shut by the dried blood covering them.

"I'm not sure if you are conscious, but you scratched your leg and bit into your abdomen, so I'm going to get those wounds closed up before you bleed out." The matron's matter-of-fact narration was almost comical. It sounded as if she was treating a bloody nose or resetting a simple broken bone.

Remus knew Madam Pomfrey had not worked with werewolves before and she had never seen anything like this. However, she was already doing better than the St. Mungo's staff and he found that her running commentary of what she was doing helped him feel more in control and less panicked about hands touching him all over. She had also already covered him with a light sheet and she neither sounded disgusted nor angry at him.

It filled Remus with so much relief tears ran down his cheeks. Once the matron had closed his two largest wounds she wiped his tears away with a wet cloth and cleaned up his face so he could choose to see again. Remus liked having the option to open his eyes but he decided not to. He preferred to squeeze them shut with pain, refusing to complain as the matron conjured a stretcher and did her best to get him to the hospital wing without any jostling.

Remus would not complain, not about her treatment of him, not ever! He was so grateful that there were truly no words.

Not only was Madam Pomfrey kind, but she was also overwhelmingly talented. After a mere half-hour, her pain concoction was already helping him. Remus still spent all day recovering, and while he had suffered some intense injuries last night that would normally end him up at St. Mungo's, he was honestly feeling better by the end of the night than he ever would have at the hospital or at the hands of his father.

...

"Madam Pomfrey, I think I can go to classes now." Remus attempted after a rather good night of dreamless sleep. The matron shot him a measuring look and shook her head.

"Not another word out of you, young man. I keep quidditch players in the wing for a whole week for the type of injuries you received last night."

He must have looked horrified for she quickly continued, though sounded displeased by what she was saying.

"While I am aware that such...thoroughness is not practical for your situation, I'll have you know that I've talked at great lengths with Dumbledore. He is in agreement that unless I say so you will be spending at least two days recovering at the minimum. You can make up your schoolwork, but you can't make up your life," she scolded gently.

"Two days? Two whole days! Madam Pomfrey you can't...I can't! My classes..my classmates! They..." Remus fretted.

"Are young children and I assure you that they won't give your absences any thought," she finished for him. "Your professors have not been told the reason, but have been made aware that your absences are excused and are willing to work with you. So goodness child, enough fretting or you'll be here for three days. That's right, don't think I won't! Lay back down, that's a good lad."

Remus had almost broken his promise not to complain about Madam Pomfrey's treatment. But his manners and good sense kicked back in and he laid back obediently and didn't fight her, though part of him really wanted to, as she dosed him with several more medications.

"You just rest and get better, dear," she said kindly, tucking him back in with a maternal love he had all but forgotten. It didn't take long for the potions to make him feel warm and fuzzy, both dulling his pain and pulling him into a deep dreamless sleep once more.

When Remus woke up next it was either very late or very early. His head felt heavy and his body ached, though dully. He sat up suddenly, fighting back a yelp, realizing he could hear two voices from the matron's personal offices next to his room.

Madam Pomfrey must not be used to having patients so close to her office that she had to keep her voice down. Or perhaps the matron thought he was still asleep, because she spoke in her normal, rather loud, authoritative volume. What really surprised Remus was that she was talking this way to the headmaster of all people!

"Poppy, you can't keep him as long as you like. I understand you want him better, but I assure you he is an extraordinarily strong and resilient boy who will be alright to go back to classes tomorrow if the worst of his injuries are healed."

"Albus you don't understand! You didn't see it. I've never seen such a thing...that poor boy Albus! Every month!" She sounded so distressed. Remus felt bad for her and decided he'd be more careful to hide his pain from her in the future. But surely she wasn't going to keep him another whole day?

Remus still felt bad for the matron, but back at home he would have been itching to leave St. Mungos by now. Even though his treatment had been unbelievably better at Madam Pomfrey's hands, he was still ready to leave. Remus hated being confined for too long. It reminded him of before and he didn't like being reminded of that dark time.

"You are right, Poppy. I haven't seen it. But I remain firm in my belief that you need to let him go to classes tomorrow. We must do everything we can to give him a chance at a normal education. I'm afraid, my dear, that includes letting him attend classes and more likely than not letting him push himself too hard as all bright and dedicated young minds are bound to do." Albus sounded grave but there was the smallest hint of amusement towards the matron's protectiveness that kept her speaking to him in the same, somewhat harsh, tone as before.

"Honestly, Albus! Other boys pushing themselves don't have such dire consequences. If he's not careful he could end up back here for much longer than a few days," she huffed, unmistakably irritated with the headmaster.

"A fact that Remus knows, Poppy. I know you've seen him in a most vulnerable state, but I assure you there's a very mature young man behind the suffering."

Remus felt very warm from Dumbledore's praise and quite guilty that he couldn't just be a 'normal boy' for their convenience.

"I know that!" she snapped, but she must have been given one of Dumbledore's kind but stern looks, for she quieted down. "But...but it's so unfair. It's heartbreaking. Albus, he shouldn't have to make such sacrifices."

"I know, Poppy. I know. But we owe it to him to let him be a normal student." There was no amusement in Dumbledore's voice this time, only a sad seriousness that increased Remus' guilt. He was causing them so much trouble. But no matter where he went trouble went with him.

He heard Dumbledore say something he couldn't quite catch then heard footsteps and quickly laid back down pretending to be asleep.

"Remus darling, are you awake?" Madam Pomfrey called out to him gently. He said nothing, hoping if they thought he was asleep they wouldn't bother with him anymore.

"Mr. Lupin? Pity. Well, I suppose I shall wait longer," Dumbledore declared.

Remus wondered if Dumbledore was manipulating him and was playing on the guilt Remus felt at bothering them. He didn't want to make Dumbledore wait longer and wondered if the headmaster knew this and he was using it to get Remus to admit he was awake. Remus should have been offended but he just felt guilty. If Remus didn't know how nice the headmaster was he would have considered the fact that he might be playing straight into Dumbledore's hand.

"I'm awake, sir," Remus admitted reluctantly. He didn't want the two adults to know he had been eavesdropping.

"Quite wonderful timing, Remus. I'm afraid the duties of headmaster can sometimes keep me from more important ones. I apologize I was not able to escort you last night as I had intended," Dumbledore stated as if this had been the goal all along.

Remus was shocked, since he hadn't even known Dumbledore was planning such a thing.

"That...you didn't have to..." he mumbled weakly, at a complete loss for words. As Dumbledore came closer he noticed with a pang the headmaster's eyes were watery. But when the headmaster spoke his voice was calm and steady.

"Quite right. Madam Pomfrey is capable and deeply trusted. So I didn't have to but I wanted to. Ah, but alas we can't dwell on the could have beens, or we'd go mad. The past is a dangerous place to dwell for anyone, as it's often filled with many missteps. I much prefer to look towards the future which is filled with unmeasurable hope. Wouldn't you agree?"

Remus wasn't sure he did agree but he didn't want to admit that. He nodded, no longer meeting the headmaster's eyes.

"Let us look towards the future, a happy future filled with the lemon sorbets I will partake in back in my office. Or the classes you will attend with what is quite the reputation of astuteness," Dumbledore chuckled. "I daresay, you could give Miss Evans a run for her money on a good day."

Once more, Remus felt embarrassed and small under Dumbledore's praise. Luckily the young boy didn't have to come up with a response, because Madam Pomfrey who had gone to check on other patients appeared with tsks of disapproval and shooed the headmaster out.

"If he's going to go to his classes tomorrow, he needs to sleep the rest of the night," she explained, not at all frightened to chew out the man who ran the whole school.

Dumbledore didn't protest and winked at Remus before he left.

"Lemon sorbets, here I come," the headmaster of Hogwarts sang with giddy anticipation.

Remus covered his mouth to stifle his painful laughter. Somehow, the quirky headmaster never failed to either calm him down or cheer him up. His respect and awe of the headmaster had truly turned into a comfortable familiarity he only had with those he trusted. Somehow, Dumbledore had become one of those people quicker than most.

"Oh, quit grinning like a fool. Back to bed with you," Madam Pomfrey chided, but Remus saw she was smiling fondly at him. He obediently took the potion given to him and laid back down. His aches soon let up but he found it much harder to go back to sleep. Finally, after hours of tossing and turning and trying not to fret he drifted off.