Life could not possibly have gotten worse for Remus Lupin. Being a werewolf, sick, and now getting detention. Every time Remus willed his eyes to focus on the piece of parchment in front of him that he was writing lines on, he headache went from just-slightly-bearable to completely-and-utterly-kill-me-now. Yeah. Not Cool. He didn't know how long he'd sat there, but eventually heard a sigh from the teacher's desk. He looked up and saw Professor Babbling standing next to him, her hand outstretched. It took the werewolf a minute to realize that she wanted his paper, and quickly handed it to her.
"What the devil?" She said, "Lupin, there's barely anything on here, and what there is is barely legible."
Remus shook his head, but stopped abruptly when he noticed that it only worsened his already impending migraine, and managed to stutter out,
"S-s-sorry, pro-professor,"
His headache was building, it wouldn't stop. Remus didn't think it could get any worse, but it did. It never stopped. He could feel it in his neck, down his spine, into his hands and feet, the pain was everywhere and it just kept getting worse and worse and worse until,
"Lupin!" Professor Babbling exclaimed as the boy slumped in his seat.
She knelt down next to him, paper discarded on the floor, and put tow fingers on his neck to check his pulse, it was weak, then his breathing. It was ragged, shallow, and barely noticeable. His face was incredibly unnaturally pale, yet extremely flushed at the same time. She waved her wand, conjuring a stretcher before levitating the unconscious boy onto it. Babbling set off at a quick pace out of her office and down the hallway, all the while wondering what could be wrong with the boy. It was no where near the full moon, no a quick glance out a window confirmed that. Then what could be ailing him? Surely if he felt sick she would have noticed, then again…Oh god, he had been sick and she hadn't noticed? Babbling felt terrible. How could this have happened?
'Honestly, Bathsheda!' She thought, taking a look at his face again, 'how could you have noticed? You stupid woman! He's obviously extremely ill! I wonder if Minerva knows?' She was jolted out of her thoughts by the sight of the hospital wing doors. She quickly cast them open and hurriedly walked in, being semi-quiet. She reached the empty bed that the werewolf usually used to recuperate in after a full moon, and laid the boy down there. Then, she set off at a fast pace toward Madame Pomfrey's office. The medi-witch assessed the boy, ending here investigation with an, "Oh my god!"
The next morning James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew burst threw the doors hurrying over to where they could see Madame Pomfrey fussing over something.
"Madame Pomfrey!" James said as they rushed over, "Remus, we think he's sick, actually we think he's been sick for a while now, anyway he had detention last night, and didn't come back, so we-" he cut himself off as the three marauders froze, staring with wide eyes at the occupant of the bed. Remus John Lupin, lycanthropy victim, was lying in it, his skin tone matching his sheets, his cheeks flushed, yet sunken, his hair sticking to his forehead, which gleamed with sweat, his breathing ragged, and his eyes squeezed shut in obvious pain.
"What the bloody hell…?" Sirius said, quickly looking towards the healer for an explanation. She sighed,
"Last night," she began, "Professor Babbling came to my office, stating that Mr. Lupin was sick. I came out, and ran a diagnostic check on him. What I saw nearly stopped my own heart. It appears that your friend is under the influence of a severe poison. It is unrecognizable, and contains the affects of several different poisons, none of which individually are lethal, but together create an extremely long and painful death. Over the course of the next few months, give or take until June, Remus will be slowly killed. The poison first will attack his brain, giving him severe headaches and short term memory loss, then it will begin down his body and into his nervous system, causing temporary paralysis, before slowly making it s way towards his stomach. The poison will kill him by attacking his heart," Every marauder was stunned into silence, which was a rare occurrence in itself. But, adding in the fact that their best friend was dying made the situation so grievous, that no one attempted to break the quiet spell. James crouched next to Remus. He had never considered him close until that moment when he realized Remus was more than a friend, Remus was James' little brother, the voice of reason inside of their trouble making group, but always ready to partake in the pranks. He was the one who could put a leash on Sirius' flirting, and occasionally make James see that pursuing Lily Evans was pointless, though he would obviously never stop. And Peter, poor Peter. It was Remus' idea to bring him into the group. The poor boy had been an outcast the first few weeks of school, until one day when Lupin had invited him over to sit with them during breakfast. He must not have wanted another outsider in the world. James hung his head, allowing a single tear to slide from beneath his closed eyelid before whispering.
"Who would've done this to you, Moony? Who would've done this to anyone. You would never hurt a fly. So why would someone hurt you?" He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Sirius, not looking down at James, but strait ahead at nothingness while tears flowed freely from his usually happy eyes. Both of them heard the sniffling and stifled sobs of Peter behind them, and James turned around opening his arms wide. Peter looked up, and ran forward into his embrace. All three boys broke down next to their unconscious friend. But Sirius wasn't going to give up so easy.
'I will find a cure,' he silently vowed, 'Remus Lupin, you will live. I solemnly swear it on the Marauder's name.'