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For three days Hermione didn't wake. For three days she was fed bottle after bottle of potions (mostly of the blood replenishing variety). For three days Remus Lupin would talk to no-one. For three days he hated himself more than he had ever hated anything in this world, more than he hated Greyback, the werewolf to lay him with this curse, more than he hated the pain he endured every full moon. He hated himself. He hated himself for causing pain to the one thing, the one person, whom he loved more than anything else in this world.

But she did wake. Three unbearably long days later. She woke to darkness.

It was night time as her eyes fluttered open. Her throat stung of unpleasantness, a feeling of acid burning its way down to her stomach. She tried to move ,but stopped almost immediately after she started a stab of excruciating pain tearing through her right leg. She laid still in the darkness, as she tested her limits of movement. Eventually, she cautiously moved her upper half, keeping her leg as still as possible, she peeled off the hospital blanket.

Underneath, her gown had been rolled up to her waist and thick white bandages were wound around her right leg. Bright red lines stroked her left hip and flashes of memory flickered past her vision.

Cold grass underneath her. A growling. The moon high above her. And pain. Pain. So much pain as the wolf attached its jaw tightly around her leg.

She whined at the memories, pushing them backwards, she looked at her leg. The bandages were wound thick and tight, which made her wonder, was she still bleeding.

At least she was alive.

She hadn't thought she would be alive.

A tingle of a small bell caught her attention as the door from the matron's office was opened and Madame Pomfrey swept through.

"Miss Granger!" She shrieked in alarm. "Do NOT move that leg."

Hermione froze in guilt and slightly scared as she lay vulnerable in her bed to the stern witch.

The older witch moved around to the right side of her bed and clucked her tongue as she examined her bandages.

"Well it was about time for me to change them anyway. I guess I could do it now." She seemed to be talking to herself more than her patient.

"Here take this," she said handing Hermione a small purple vial. "It's a numbing potion, so you shouldn't feel a thing while I do this."

Hermione drank obediently and felt everything from her waist down seem to melt away from her body. Of course it was still there, she just couldn't feel it.

"You've been in my care for three days now Miss Granger," the mediwitch explained as she lifted Hermione's limp leg and started the arduous task of gently removing the layers of bandage.

"I was unsure when you would awaken to be quite honest. Your case is quite unique to my experience. We would have, of course, taken you to St Mungo's if your condition had degenerated, but unfortunately I doubt that they would have had much more insight. A person bitten by a werewolf usually transforms.

"You did know you were bitten by a werewolf didn't you?" the matron asked hesitantly in case she had just inadvertently revealed news of some shock to the girl, but Hermione nodded her head and she quickly turned back to her task.

"Anyhow, werewolf bites are ... unfortunately unable to be healed. I have done all I can to stop the bleeding, but your wounds were quite deep. Our hope is that they will eventually stop themselves. In any case they seem to be doing jut that. That scrape on your hip," she nodded her head to the angry red lines, "are coming along quite nicely. I think they will barely scar, if we are lucky. Ah - here we are"

She had reached the end of the long ravel of linen and Hermione could see the deep wounds of the bite mark on her leg.

They were quite close to the top of her leg and Madame Promfrey's hand swept over the top of her knickers as she examined the wounds, making it rather uncomfortable for Hermione.

"Yes, much better," the nurse nodded happily and Hermione thought she must be crazy. The wounds were many, far reaching into her flesh and blood trickled constantly out of the gapping holes. Her flesh was mangled and bloody and it pained Hermione just to look at it even through she knew she couldn't technically feel it at the moment, thanks to the numbing potion.

How bad had it been before?

She shuddered at the thought, not daring to imagine a worse sight than the one before her (though she doubted she could anyway).

New bandages were conjured and a light ointment applied to the area before she started to wind the fresh material around her leg. Hermione was very grateful for the numbing potion, sure that without it, that lotion would have been unbearable on her open leg.

It was faster to put the bandages back on and she was soon finished. Although the wound was concentrated on the top half of her thigh the bandages wound themselves down to her knee and reached as high on her hip as they could go.

"I'm afraid you will be here for quite some time," the matron said gathering the few things that she had placed upon the bedside table during her work.

"Thankfully some of your friends have already taken upon themselves to gather your work," she gestured to a small pile of books and papers on the table that sat at the end of the bed. Hermione could see the neat writing of Lily's quill on a corner sticking out of the stack. "I haven't yet allowed visitors," the nurse frowned slightly, "but we will see how you are tomorrow, shall we?"

Hermione nodded obediently, but quickly stopped the nurse as she turned to leave her side.

"Was - was anyone else hurt?"

She looked around the empty hospital wing seeing no other signs of patients and her heart tightened painfully.

Empty beds did not mean no victims.

Madame Pomfrey smiled indulgently. "No, thanks to yourself."

"I imagine that three first years wouldn't have stood a chance against a near fully grown werewolf. You're quite the hero, actually."

"But I'm sorry to ramble, Mr Potter and Mr Black were quite fine, as I'm sure you were aiming your question towards. Mr Potter had to take a mild shock potion and Mr Black suffered a few bruises, but they were both out of here within the hour."

Hermione let out a deep breath sinking back into her pillows, relived, but not quite fully.

"Mr Lupin has... has had more difficulty."

"Oh no he wasn't hurt, per se," Madame Pomfrey assured at Hermione's startled look. "He is just taking your injuries very hard, but I'm sure he will be here tomorrow to see you once he hears you are awake." The nurse smiled and bustled out of the room, as was her way.

But she was wrong, as Hermione would sadly discover over the next lonely days spent in the quiet ward.

He didn't come at all.