A/N: Thanks to Zarathustra for the beta work, and for SortingHat47, who is STILL with me, even if I do drive her insane with questions and comments… And the 500th rewrite of Chapter 24…
Thanks to you who review—and those of you who have put this story on your favourites list. I really, really do appreciate every single one of you! (I am SOOO PMS-ing right now—I'm practically in tears at this…)
Disclaimer: You know the drill. Blah, blah…not mine… JKRowling… yadda yadda… I mentioned the bisque… (Extra points if you know where THAT line came from…)
Chapter 16: Sanctuary
Thursday, Sept. 12, 1985—3:37 p.m.
Moody and Garrison were both anxious to put the Snodgrass case behind them. Any case involving love gone badly seemed to bring out the worst in people, and this was no different. For the last hour, they had listened to the story of a couple who, for all intents and purposes had seemed ideally suited for one another. But then the tale had become one of betrayal and supposed reconciliation, which involved the giving of a Dark-magic tainted ring.
Dorothea Snodgrass had awakened the night before, shocked to find herself in St. Mungo's. The healers had explained the reason why she was there as gently as they could. She had taken it as well as anyone could have, the healers had told the two Aurors, but Moody remained sceptical. She still seemed stunned now as the two men questioned her.
"I hope you've learned your lesson, lass," Moody said.
The young woman nodded. "I have. I'll never put a ring on my finger without having it checked for traces of Dark magic."
"Or any other kind of jewellery, either," Moody added. He turned to look at his partner.
"Anything else you want to ask?"
Terry Garrison shook his head. His partner was so thorough there was very rarely any need to add anything else.
"Then, if you're sure there's nothing else, we'll be moving on," the senior Auror said, directing his comment to the young woman again.
"No, that's all I can remember," she said. Hesitantly, she added, "Will he be in much trouble?"
Garrison cringed, knowing what was coming.
"Merlin's balls, girl!" Moody yelled. "Don't you think he should be? Giving anyone an object with any trace of Dark magic is illegal! Especially when the receiver of the gift doesn't know it's tainted! He put you here in St. Mungo's, for Merlin's sake!"
Garrison reached out and patted his partner on the shoulder. "Sir, I think we should be moving along, don't you?"
Realizing what the young man was doing, Moody allowed himself to be steered out of the room with just a quick, but much quieter, admonition to be vigilant.
"Stupid fool," Moody muttered. "'Will he be in much trouble?'" he mimicked in a high-pitched voice.
"You were the one who told me you'd seen this time and again," Garrison said, a grin threatening to break out.
"So I did," sighed the older wizard. "It still amazes me that some people are such idiots, though." Shaking his head and still muttering to himself, he led Garrison to the lift door. "We should question Lupin while we're here," he said abruptly. "See what he wants to tell us about the last three months."
"You know that half of the charges we press against Bentley and Parsons will never stand up to the Wizengamot's inspection," Garrison said.
Moody shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Let's go talk to Lupin for now and see what we think after that."
Moody was the first one off the lift, his partner just a step behind. Suddenly, the senior Auror threw his arm out, catching Garrison across the chest, halting him.
"What's —?"
A light flashed from Lupin's room, and then another. Then they heard a man's voice, asking something by the tone of it, and then stifled laughter.
Moody's wand was already in his hand as he stepped quickly toward the door.
There was another flash, and then Remus Lupin's voice, shouting, "No!"
Garrison couldn't see what happened, but he heard the thump of something heavy smashing against the wall. Moody winced and then charged into the room.
"Everyone stop where you are!"
The younger Auror followed him, his wand also drawn. His eyes scanned the room quickly, assessing the situation as Moody had taught him.
A young man, not much older than Garrison, lay slumped against the wall. His eyes were open, but he looked stunned — concussed, perhaps. Another man, in St. Mungo's robes, stood near Lupin's bed, his hands outstretched and empty. He looked frightened.
"What in the seven levels of hell is happening here?" Moody demanded.
"He attacked my friend!" the St. Mungo's employee yelped. "He just — attacked him! Call the Werewolf Capture Unit! He's gone feral!"
Moody immediately turned to the werewolf, who was curled into a tight ball, the blanket drawn up so that nothing could be seen but the back of his head. "Lupin?"
The sounds of footsteps in the hallway meant that the hospital staff was being drawn by the disruption. The younger Auror turned and said, in his most officious-sounding tone, "Everything's under control. We're Aurors." As if their Aurors robes didn't make that obvious…
"Call the WCU!" the St. Mungo's employee near Lupin's bed repeated, addressing his colleagues.
Moody jabbed a finger at him. "One more word and I'll shut your mouth for you!"
The man cringed, his eyes shooting furtive glances at his fellow employees, seeking sympathy, but getting none.
With more gentleness than Garrison would have thought, the Auror pulled the blanket down. Lupin had his eyes closed tightly, his hands drawn to his chest. He was trembling violently.
"Open your eyes, Lupin," Moody said. His tone was quiet, but firm. "Come on, boy! No one's going to hurt you."
The man against the wall stirred and struggled to get his feet beneath him.
"Don't move," Garrison told him. He knew the man could have suffered some kind of serious head injury, and moving might worsen it. He also knew that Moody would rake him over the coals if he let anyone move without the Auror's express permission.
"Damn it, Lupin! Open those eyes now!" Moody growled, losing his patience.
The werewolf slowly obeyed, raising his gaze to meet the Auror's. Even from where Garrison was standing he could see that Lupin's eyes were blue: not the dreaded gold.
"I'm sorry," the werewolf whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't. Don't tell —"
"What were you doing in here?" Garrison asked the man against the wall.
The man in St. Mungo's green gave his friend a warning glance that Garrison caught. Moody saw it too.
"What was that flash?" the senior Auror asked.
"You know we're going to get the bloody story out of you one way or another," Garrison said. "So you might as well tell us now and get it over."
"And if you do, I won't be as tempted to turn you into hedgehogs," Moody snapped. "Now tell us what you were doing in here!"
The man on the floor sighed. "I was just taking some photos." He shifted slightly, and now the Aurors could see the camera that had fallen beneath him.
"For what purpose?" Garrison asked.
Again there was a hesitation, but the man continued before Moody could yell at him again. "I saw him —" he pointed toward the bed, "— at the carnival, and when Sean told me he was here, I just thought I could, well…"
He let the sentence taper off, which might have been the wrong thing to do, because Moody picked up the thought. "You thought you'd come in here and take photos of an injured man and do what? Sell them? Pass them around your friends and have a laugh at how the werewolf isn't that dangerous when he's sick and hurt and laid up in bed?"
Before Garrison could interfere, Moody muttered something under his breath and jabbed his wand in the direction of the man on the floor. There was a bang and a puff of green smoke, and a large lizard was suddenly blinking up at them.
Sean, the St. Mungo's employee, cried out in fear and took a step back. So did the other staff members in the hallway.
"Don't you bloody move another inch!" Moody ordered. "What's your place here?"
Sean licked his lips nervously. "I work in the Apothecary."
"There are rules against employees exploiting the patients for any reason," the older wizard said, aiming his wand in Sean's direction. "And I'm going to make sure everyone knows what you've done."
"I wasn't the one with the camera!" the unfortunate Sean cried. "I didn't want to bring him up here, but —"
"Oh, shut up," Moody snapped. "Garrison, cage that damned lizard. You —" he motioned to the other man. "— can carry your mate. Where's Weimer?" he demanded, looking at the people standing out in the hallway for the first time.
"He's upstairs, visiting another patient, I think," one woman volunteered quickly.
"Well, somebody should go and fucking get him!" thundered Moody. "Now!"
Garrison had to admit he loved watching people when his partner spoke in that tone. They seemed to scramble everywhere, and yet nowhere, bumping into each other, and getting into each other's way.
He conjured a cage with a casual flick of his wand and motioned for Sean to put the lizard inside.
While he watched the fun of the lizard darting away from Sean's hands, he heard Moody ask Lupin: "What happened?"
The younger man mumbled something incoherently. Then he looked up at Moody. The blue eyes showed no sign of recognition as he whimpered. "Don't tell Bill. Don't tell him. I didn't mean it."
"Shite," Moody muttered. "He's bloody lost his mind."
Sean suddenly straightened, deciding to add his two Knuts worth before the healer arrived. "He threw Jasper across the room!"
Moody and Garrison exchanged glances.
"How did he do that?" the younger Auror asked. "He can't stand –"
"Not physically!" Sean said. "With magic! He made some kind of funny move with his fingers, and Jasper just went flying across the room!"
Moody and Garrison sent appraising glances at Lupin, who groaned and again whispered, "I didn't mean it."
The older Auror suddenly laughed curtly, startling everyone. "Learned some wandless magic, did you, Remus?"
Far from comforting the werewolf, Moody's words seemed to do the opposite. Lupin again curled into a tight ball, breathing shallowly and quickly. Garrison frowned. He recognized panic when he saw it.
"Moody —"
The Auror cut his partner off with an outstretched hand. "Remus." He touched the werewolf's shoulder. "Listen, lad. You did a good thing. You were defending yourself. You're not —"
"It was the lights. They wouldn't stop." And then plaintively, almost piteously, Lupin added, "I didn't mean to. I didn't want to, but they just wouldn't stop. Tell Bill I didn't mean it."
"What is this?" Weimer's voice resounded in the corridor. "Do you not all have work that needs to be done?"
The healers, assistants, and other staff members scattered before the man's anger.
Moody turned to face Garrison, and motioned to Sean. "Take him out of here. Put them in an empty closet or something until I'm ready to deal with them."
Fear bleached Sean's face as he looked over at Garrison. The young Auror smiled. "I wouldn't want to be you right now, mate."
5:26 p.m.
Anyone seeing Albus Dumbledore at that moment would have been certain of two things: that he was in a hurry and that he was very upset. The twinkle in his blue eyes was conspicuously absent, and he looked neither to the right nor the left as he went through the St. Mungo's reception area, through the hallways, and up the stairs to the first floor.
Even if he hadn't known that something was wrong, he would have been able to tell by the behaviour of the first floor staff members. Nearly all of them were loitering in doorways or darting quickly from room to room, as if they were trying to avoid the eye of someone who was just waiting to catch them doing something wrong.
Moody's voice was almost immediately and clearly recognizable. "— give me that shit! It was obviously done in self-defence!"
The Headmaster couldn't hear the words that were said in reply to the Auror, but Moody was obviously not pleased.
"He didn't react like a wolf! You can't charge him with attacking someone when —"
Dumbledore reached the doorway of Weimer's office and found himself next to a man in Ministry robes. Belatedly, he realized the robes were the colour of the Magical Creatures Division and a quick glance at the man's badge told him the man was from the Werewolf Capture Unit.
Another man from the Werewolf Capture Unit was standing next to Alastor Moody in front of Weimer's desk. The WCU man was red-faced with fury. "Any time a werewolf attacks, whether it's a physical or magical attack, is a violation of Article one, Section b. He bloody near fractured the man's skull —"
"The man deserved to have his bloody skull fractured! Lupin did exactly what any other man would do in that situation! If I woke up and had those fucking lights popping off at me, I'd have hexed the idiot into next week!"
"Or turned him into a lizard?" The WCU man asked, with an acrid smile.
"He's lucky I didn't turn him into a mouse and turn the other bastard into a cat!" Moody snapped. "Lupin reacted like a wizard. He used magic to defend himself, which is allowable, even by underage kids! He didn't bite or scratch either one of them. If someone hadn't called you, you wouldn't have even known about this!"
"So you admit you'd have just covered it up?"
"Hells, yes! This is ridiculous! Those two provoked an injured wizard by using scare tactics and intimidation — and this entire thing was meant to humiliate him. I say let St. Mungo's deal with the one, and I figure the other one has learned his lesson from his — imprisonment."
"Moody, this is highly unethical and illegal, ignoring a werewolf attack —"
"Do you really want to do the bloody paperwork on it? And do you realize that as soon as you label this an 'attack,' that photo-taking wanker is going to have to go through the same treatment procedures as someone who was attacked by a werewolf's teeth or claws?" Moody let that sink in for a second, then continued. "Ask the lizard if he wants to go through that for the next month or two!"
The WCU employee who was next to Dumbledore sighed. "Come on, Bryson. He's right. We'll be there until seven tonight doing the paperwork on this, and that doesn't include actually getting the werewolf down to the Ministry and locked up. Let's chalk it up as a misunderstanding and get out of here."
"The werewolf attacked a human being!"Bryson said insistently. "We are obligated by law to —"
Healer Weimer cleared his throat. "Herr Bryson, I understand your — concerns. But you saw Herr Lupin just a little while ago. You know as well as I do what this has done to him. Can I ask you to have Mitleid —" the German struggled for a moment before the right word practically exploded from his lips, "— compassion for a young man who has suffered so much?"
Bryson turned, shaking his head. His eyes fastened on Dumbledore. "I know why you're here," he said with a disgusted tone. "You're going to tell me to let this go, too."
The Headmaster smiled grimly. "If you already know what I'm going to say, Mr Bryson, then there is no need for me to say it. But I will add this: you know Remus Lupin. He was your study partner in Herbology, as I recall. Do you think Remus would ever deliberately attack anyone?"
"Not the Remus Lupin I knew at Hogwarts," Bryson replied. "But this is different. He's a werewolf –"
"He was a werewolf when he was at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said.
There was a long, silent moment before horrified realization dawned on the WCU man's face. "All those days he missed… And the scratches —" He frowned. "How did you manage to keep that a secret? How did he manage to get through all seven years without anyone knowing?"
"Oh, there were several who knew," the Headmaster admitted. "But no one believed that a werewolf could attend Hogwarts, so not everyone put all the clues together. He never gave them a reason to."
Bryson rubbed the side of his jaw with the palm of his hand. "I suppose you're going to tell me that Potter and Pettigrew — and Black, too, I suppose — knew all about it."
"Well, of course, they bloody knew!" Moody snapped. "They weren't stupid! And they didn't have their heads up their arses about —"
"Alastor," Dumbledore said quietly. "That's enough."
"No, it's not," the Auror insisted. "He wants to send the boy to Azkaban, Albus! It's not bloody right!" He banged his fist down on Weimer's desk. "He needs to keep in mind that Lupin has lost everything — everything — through no fault of his own. He needs to consider what those two buggers were doing to Lupin. And then he needs to ask himself, 'Is throwing that bloody fucker against the wall worth a trip to Azkaban for Lupin?'"
Bryson swore under his breath. "You're asking me to ignore the law, Moody! For the sake of emotion!"
"I'm asking you to do it for the sake of justice!" Moody shouted. "He doesn't deserve this!"
Dumbledore sighed. "Alastor, please! Calm yourself. Mr Bryson, was the man badly injured?"
"He's got a bump on his head, Albus. That's —"
"Alastor!" Dumbledore said sharply, cutting him off. "I'm asking Mr Bryson."
Bryson hesitated a moment before answering. "No, he really wasn't. He has a slight concussion. That's all."
"Has he admitted any part in provoking Remus?"
"Yes, he has," the other WCU worker replied before Bryson could. "They both did."
Bryson shot his colleague a dark look, but said nothing.
"Was Remus hurt at all in this?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Weimer.
The healer hesitated. "Not physically, no."
"Merlin's balls," Moody said harshly. "You haven't seen him, Albus."
"Your message insisted on my immediate presence here, in this office, Alastor," Dumbledore said, his tone more than a little chastising.
"Go see him now." The Auror jerked his chin in the direction of the werewolf's room. "See what they've done."
Dumbledore looked at Weimer, who had his hands folded tightly together on top of his desk.
The healer raised his eyebrows and shrugged slightly. "He is sleeping right now, Herr Dumbledore. He won't wake for another two hours at least."
"They had to sedate him," Moody said. "He couldn't calm down. Oh, he wasn't going wolf on them or anything," he added derisively. "He thought he was back at the damned carnival. He kept begging me not to tell Parsons that he'd used magic.
"If I'm understanding it right," the Auror continued, "the fact that he did magic was the reason that Parsons shattered the bones in his hand. As a bloody, gods-damned punishment."
The Headmaster inhaled deeply and slowly then exhaled even more slowly. He turned to Bryson. "And for using magic to defend himself, you want to punish him by sending him to Azkaban."
The WCU man looked down at the floor.
"Bryson, let it go," his colleague entreated. "We'll say it was a misunderstanding."
No one spoke.
"Fine," Bryson finally said in a low tone. And with that, he roughly shouldered his partner out of the way and left the room.
"You'll get a copy of our report," the other WCU employee said to Weimer. "Just sign it if you agree with it and send it back."
The healer nodded, but the other man was already gone.
Moody began to swear softly under his breath, but as the volume increased, the Headmaster snapped, "Alastor, stop it. There's no reason for bitterness when you've won the battle."
"Oh, forgive me, then," the Auror said sarcastically. "There's nothing bitter in knowing that I had to fight to defend the innocent and I have to let the guilty walk free."
"Sean Loring will suffer the consequences for his actions," Weimer said firmly. "I fully expect him to lose his position here."
"As he bloody well should!" Moody snarled.
Dumbledore realized suddenly that he was tired of facing Moody's rage. "I'm going to go see Remus. If you'll —"
"Wait." Moody held out a hand to stop him. "We need to talk about this."
"There's nothing more to discuss," Dumbledore said.
"Yes. There is," Moody contradicted him. "What happened today might happen again. If an idiot who works in the bloody Apothecary knows where Lupin was and that he's here now, you can lay odds there are others who know. I want to know what's going to be done to protect Lupin while he's here." He directed his last comment to Weimer.
The healer sat back and let his still-folded hands rest on his belly. "I'm sure this is an isolated incident, Mr Moody."
"You can't guarantee it," the Auror said. "What steps are you going to take to keep this from happening again?"
A look of irritation crossed Weimer's face. "Obviously, you have something in mind."
"If you do have some sort of plan, Alastor, now might be a good time to share it." Dumbledore felt as annoyed as Weimer sounded.
"I do have an idea," Moody watched the Headmaster's face closely as he said, "Let's move him to Hogwarts."
The older wizard's eyebrows rose to his hairline, and he raised his hand to stroke his beard. "Alastor, you can't —"
Weimer cut in. "There is no one there who is skilled enough to take care of the injuries he has suffered. Certainly his mental and emotional state is fragile enough that —"
Moody shook his head and held up a hand to stop them both from saying anything further. "Just listen to me for a moment. He loves Hogwarts. You know that, Albus. It would be no trouble to set up a room for him — there are plenty of guest rooms there. As for qualified care, Pomfrey took care of him when he was a student. She's not completely ignorant of what needs to be done to take care of a werewolf. As far as more involved things," he nodded at Weimer, "you could either give her detailed instructions or you could Floo out to Hogwarts."
He paused for a moment, and when neither one of the other men spoke, he went on. "If we get him out of here and into someplace where he's comfortable, it can only help speed the healing process, or so I'd think. He wouldn't have to come into any contact with the students, and Merlin knows the house elves would be more than happy to cater to his every wish."
"I have several concerns, but one in particular worries me," Dumbledore said slowly. "He loved Hogwarts because of what he shared with James and Lily and Peter," he paused, then added, "and Sirius. What happens to his emotional and mental state if he returns — and is confronted with the fact that nothing remains but the memories?"
"Gods, Albus, he realizes that every single day of his life," Moody replied quietly.
10:02 p.m.
He was chasing Sirius through a dense wooded area, which might have been the Forbidden Forest — or not.
Every so often, Sirius would stop and turn around, laughing, and he'd taunt Remus by saying, "Come on, Moony! Can't you keep up with me anymore?"
And it did seem for a while as if Remus would never catch up to him. As they neared the edge of the forest, though, Remus somehow knew that if he didn't catch Sirius now, he never would. So, with a desperate burst of speed, he made one final lunge…
His fingers snagged on the shirt that Sirius was wearing, and they fell, Sirius cursing loudly and angrily.
They struggled on the forest floor, Sirius trying to extricate himself from Remus' grasp, Remus doing all he could to hold on to the other wizard.
"Let me go!" Sirius yelled. "What is wrong with you?"
"You killed James!" Remus replied, his voice harsh with breathlessness. "You killed Lily!"
"You're out of your bloody mind! I would never have done anything to James or Lily — or Harry!"
"Then who did?" demanded Remus, shifting his weight so that he had Sirius pinned securely beneath him. And then suddenly there was a lump in his throat, and unable to do anything else, he entangled his fingers even more deeply into Sirius' shirt and gave the other young man a vicious shove against the forest floor. "Damn it, Sirius, why didn't you kill me too? Why did you leave me like this? You knew I hated being alone! You knew I'd —"
Sudden realization flooded through him, and the fabric of the shirt slid through Remus' nerveless fingers. "Oh, Sirius. Did you hate me that much, that you'd deliberately do this to me? Kill James and Lily, and then Peter, so that I'd be alone?"
"Moony, I wouldn't have done that. I swore to you I'd always be around for you —"
"But you're not here now," Remus pointed out. "You're in Azkaban."
Sirius wrapped his long, cold fingers around Remus' wrists. "Am I in Azkaban? Don't I feel real to you?"
"This is a bloody dream! You're not here, I'm not even here. I'm, Gods, I don't even know where I am." Remus admitted sadly.
"Let me up. I'll show you where you are," Sirius said.
And for some unknown reason, Remus complied. He stood up and then extended a hand to help Sirius to his feet.
The dark-haired Animagus dusted himself off quickly. "Just through those trees, Moony," he said, with a quick jerk of his chin.
Hesitantly, Remus looked in the direction that Sirius had indicated, and then back again. "Come with me."
Sirius laughed. "Do you want me to hold your hand, too?"
Disgusted at his own uncertainty, Remus turned sharply on his heel and started walking. He heard Sirius' footsteps behind him.
As the two young men stepped through the last row of trees, clouds scudded across the moon, blocking its light. It didn't prevent them from seeing the lights illuminating hundreds of windows in the castle that was before them.
"Why are we here?" Remus asked softly.
"We aren't. You are," Sirius corrected.
They stood for a long moment, just staring at Hogwarts, lost in their own memories.
"I wish we hadn't grown up," Sirius suddenly remarked.
"I'm not sure you ever did," Remus said.
"You know, Moony, I think you're wrong for once. I think we grew up too quickly. If we'd had more time to be stupid and irresponsible, maybe we wouldn't be where we are now: me rotting inside this hell, and you rotting inside your head."
Remus ignored his comment. Instead, without looking at his friend, he said, "Tell me why you killed them."
"I told you: I didn't."
"I can't believe that."
"That's your head talking, Moony." Sirius put his hand on Remus' shoulder. "What does your heart tell you?"
"I can't trust what my heart tells me," Remus said, hating the fact that tears were threatening to well up in his eyes. "It told me you would never betray me, and you did when you sent Snape to the Willow."
Sirius swore sharply then said mockingly. "I thought you forgave me for that?"
"I thought I had."
The hand slipped from Remus' shoulder. "You're hard, Moony. You're not who I thought you were."
Remus felt the muscles in his jaw tighten. "I'm exactly what you made me, Padfoot."
Pain seared through his left leg, and he staggered sideways. Sirius grabbed him and wrapped one arm around his shoulders, bracing him as he struggled to get both feet firmly beneath him.
"You're hurt, Moony," Sirius said.
"You sound worried," Remus commented through gritted teeth.
"Why shouldn't I be?" the dark-haired wizard countered.
"I'll spare us both the obvious comments," Remus replied tartly. He tentatively put his weight on his injured leg and promptly began to fall forward.
Sirius again caught him.
"You're such a stubborn bastard," the Animagus remarked. "You're not going to be able to walk on that."
"So how do you propose I get there —" Remus nodded toward Hogwarts, "— from here without walking?"
"You could Apparate."
Remus shook his head. "Not on the Hogwarts grounds. You know you can't Apparate within the boundaries —" Another flare of pain made him interrupt himself with a curse.
"You're too damned practical, even in your dreams," Sirius said. His broad smile flashed brightly, even in the darkness. "Can't you, just once, imagine that it's possible, and make it happen?"
"It's not possible."
"It's a fucking dream, Moony! Isn't that what you said to me? You can make anything happen in dreams."
"Like bring back James and Lily?" Remus asked bitterly.
Sirius was very, very quiet, and the werewolf could feel the tension in his friend's body. "Moony," the scion of the Black family said very quietly. "Do you talk to them — in your dreams, I mean?"
Remus bit his lip, only partially to hide his wincing, but admitted, "All the time."
Sirius sighed, and there was something like relief within it. "Me, too."
Curiosity pushed pain aside for a moment. "They talk to you?"
"Hells, yes! I told you, I didn't do it."
Again, Remus' leg was filled with fire that went all the way up to his groin, burning and hot. This time, Sirius didn't hold him up, but allowed him to sink to the ground.
"Padfoot —"
"Ask me anything, Moony."
Remus looked up at him in surprise. "How'd you know —?"
"I can tell by the tone. Now, what did you want to ask me?"
"If you didn't kill them, who did?"
Sirius' fingers were gentle as they brushed Remus' fringe away from his damp forehead. "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."
"Make me believe it," Remus whispered, grabbing his friend's cold hand and squeezing it tightly. "It's a dream, right? Anything's possible, you said. Tell me, and make me believe it."
"Gods, Moony, you're delirious."
"I'm tired of being alone," Remus' admission sounded pitiful, even to his own ears.
"You're never alone," Sirius said quietly, his voice surprisingly thick. "You're cared for more than you know, Moony."
"But —" The werewolf turned slightly, and the pain ripped through him, making him cry out. He could just barely feel Sirius' touch.
"I can't hold on any longer, Remus," Sirius said, surprising him by using his actual name. "You need help, and they can give it to you."
"Don't need help… Need you, and James, and Lily…"
"We'll always be with you."
Was Sirius — crying? Sirius never cried. But drops of water were falling on Remus' face, and he twisted to try to see his friend's face one more time...
He awoke with a gasp.
"It's all right, Mr Lupin," said a vaguely familiar voice.
Remus' eyes darted from side to side, taking in his surroundings. He was in a wood-panelled room, in a large four-poster bed with heavy, crimson draperies fringed with gold — reminiscent of Gryffindor colours. A large wardrobe occupied the spot opposite the bed; an old desk with dozens of pigeonholes sat next to a window to the right. The corner between the wardrobe and desk contained an over-stuffed chair and ottoman that looked just perfect for an evening of reading. The door was to his left, as was a wooden chair. A book lay on the seat, open but facedown, as if the reader had had no time to carefully mark her place.
The alleged reader was leaning over Remus, wiping his face with a damp cloth.
"Madame Pomfrey?" he asked, confusion furrowing his brow.
"Yes, dear. You're here at Hogwarts."
"But —"
"The Headmaster and Auror Moody brought you here just a few hours ago. Do you remember anything that happened?"
What had happened?
The pain in his leg returned simultaneously with the question and he tensed, drawing in a sharp breath.
"I have some potions for pain all ready for you," Pomfrey told him. "Healer Weimer guessed that you'd need them about now."
Her smile was gentle, but he knew better than to refuse anything that she recommended. At this point, he wasn't going to say no to anything that would take away the blazing in his leg. Or something that might take away the fire that burned in his heart for things that would never be.
He's safe! He's where he should be! With people who like him and care about him!
Oh. And Severus Snape is lurking around somewhere. Should be interesting, yes?