James and Sirius were being filled in on the lesson by Peter, who stopped every few phrases to ask how Remus was. After the fifth time, James lost his cool.
"Merlin's beard! How many times do we have to tell you: we don't know how he is! We won't know until McGonagall sends us word about him. Now stop asking!"
The smaller boy cringed under the yelling voice of James. As if on cue to end the awkward silence, a silvery cat appeared in the room. McGonagall's voice came from it. "Hello boys. If you would, James and Sirius, would you come down to the hospital wing for a moment? Peter, I'm sure you have something to do other than follow them around all day." With that, the cat disappeared and the two summoned Marauders got off of their four-posters and left, leaving Peter to sulk alone.
At the hospital wing, James and Sirius ran to the bed they'd put Remus on. What they found was truly disturbing. He was three shades paler than he had been, his scars even more pronounced. The rash had started to climb up his neck and throat and his head thrashed in his sleep. If you looked hard, you could see his eyeballs rolling wildly beneath their lids, and he occasionally snarled or something equally disturbing. Madam Pomfrey looked quite haphazard and McGonagall was very grave indeed.
"He's to be taken to St. Mungo's right now. Boys, should you choose to come along, I shall see to it that no points are taken away because of it."
To Sirius and James, this would usually be an instant "Oh my god she's letting us skip Potions class" moment. But at this time, it was more of a panic-strung no duh moment. They each took an arm and took Remus to the fireplace. His feet dragged slightly but even in his fevered sleep he tried to walk. They flooed to St. Mungo's and, to James and Sirius's surprise, were directed straight to a room without anyone registering Remus. That baffled and worried them but they didn't have time to think about that; they just followed the two women in front of them to a solitary room. They put the ailing werewolf in the bed and watched him suffer his fevered nightmares. An attending nurse walked in, took one look at him on the bed, and left in a hurry. Shortly, a healer came in and did a check, asking Madam Pomfrey questions. When he was done, he stood up straight and shook his head.
"This boy is very ill. He'll probably never fully recover, if he recovers at all."
"Do you know what it is?"
"Well, it seems he's got a very rare disease; we don't see it too often. It only seems to affect werewolves, and since they only get it once we don't see them again. It's commonly referred to as the sleeping sickness. I understand he's been unusually tired lately? That confirms it. None of you are in any danger of getting it, unless you're secretly werewolves. Now then, he'll be staying here until such time as I deem him healthy enough to leave."
Everyone nodded and said thank-you. After one last good-bye look, they left and returned to the school. James and Sirius went to their dorm room, grabbed their bags, and rushed to Potions class. Even though McGonagall had promised no points would be taken, they didn't want to give Professor Slughorn any excuse to make spectacles of them.