Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his universe all belong to the delightful JK Rowling.

A/N: Let's all thank my awesome beta, Fredrika, who is also a great, funny and helpful person!

Chapter 3: The Werewolf in the Attic

Harry, Hermione and Alastor decided not to move Remus from Buckbeak's former attic to his own room. Their friend was in such a state that they would probably do more harm than good. Something had gone horribly wrong: what they saw was neither a wizard, nor a werewolf, but a gruesome combination of the two. Not like the centaurs, who were human from the waist up and equine the rest of the way, or even the sphinx, who had a human head resting on the body of a lion. No, Remus was twisted between his lupine form and his human one. His mouth, for example, was very human looking except it contorted too far out, snout-like, bending his teeth at unnatural angles. Great patches of fur battled for dominance over his scarred creamy skin. He bled in places where he had no doubt tried to claw away the pain that deformed his bones and stretched his muscles as parts of his limbs elongated to adjust to his werewolf form while others stubbornly remained human.

He was a mess, there was no other words. The half-eaten ferrets they used to find in the attic when Buckbeak lived here looked better that Remus did at this moment.

They had levitated him in a makeshift cot Hermione had transfigured from the old mattress that usually lay in the far corner.

"Maybe we should try bringing him to Saint Mungos." suggested Harry.

"Won't accept 'im. Werewolf." Alastor disagreed gruffly. "They would probably put 'im down, especially in that state."

The old Auror cast his Patronus with a message urging Madam Pomfrey to join them at Headquarters as soon as she could manage. She was at Hogwarts, but hopefully had no student to care for or it would take her longer to get here. After a little hesitation, he demanded Madam Pomfrey to bring Snape along, and then sent the glowing bear on its way.

"Why Snape?" asked Harry. "He won't help Remus, he hates him!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry had never gotten over the fact that Professor Snape had succeeded in getting the werewolf fired when he had been teaching at Hogwarts in their third year. She had been angry too, because Professor Lupin had been the best DADA teacher they had ever had. But that was many year ago, and she thought that maybe, just maybe, the Potions Master had had his reasons for doing so. Besides, the two men had spent the afternoon together with her and there had been little to no animosity between them.

"He's supposed to give Remus his wolfsbane potion, ain't he?" answered the Auror snidely.

"Do you think he forgot? Or that he didn't give it to Remus on purpose...to hurt him? That bastard! I'll hex the miserable ugly git!"

"Harry! Stop it!" she interrupted before he worked himself into an uncontrollable rage. "I was there when Professor Snape brought Remus his potion, and I saw Remus drink it. It must be something else that hurt him."

"Not necessarily. I was thinking that he might have not made it correctly. You know, it is a difficult potion...maybe his hand slipped...a wrong ingredient here or there. It could happen." Alastor said again, not wanting to let Snape off the hook so easily.

"I've never heard of Professor Snape not brewing a potion perfectly." the witch scoffed at the ridiculous idea. They might as well say that she had misquoted Hogwarts, A History.

"I know that girl." the older wizard implied once more.

"He poisoned him!" roared Harry once more, pacing furiously before Remus' bed, making the ancient floorboards creak. "The bastard! I'll kill him!"

"Kill who, Potter? The Dark Lord? It would be about time, too." drawled Snape's voice from the doorway, as the smaller form of the mediwitch bustled around the crowd, finding the quickest route to the bed where she knew she'd find whoever it was that needed her help.

"You! You!" shouted the green-eyed wizard incoherently as he pointed an accusing finger at Snape, his face red from the anger that radiated off of him in waves.

"Me? Me what, Potter? Do try to form a full sentence instead of prattling on like a mindless idiot."

"You poisoned Remus!"

"Harry! You can't go accusing people like that!" Hermione intervened, although she was sure the damage had already been done and the two men would be hexing each other any second now.

"Remus?" the dark wizard said, clearly surprised, as his eyes rounded and his whole body shifted from his confrontational stance to an analytical search of the room for the patient they had been called for. "Poisoned?" and he rushed off to Madam Pomfrey's side, unconsciously towing everybody along with him. Well, that was not the reaction Hermione or any of the others had expected. The snarky wizard looked sincerely concerned, worried even, when he studied the prone form of Remus Lupin.

"Oh, Severus! I don't know what to do!" murmured the mediwitch fearfully. "I've never seen or even heard of anything of the kind! The mediscans show his vitals are under a lot of stress, his pulse is frighteningly high and I'm not sure how long his heart will hold if this keeps on."

"Can we put him under a stasis charm? Until we find out what happened to him or how to help him?" he asked the nurse, who was wringing her hands in frustration.

"No." she finally decided. "If his state is spell induced, a stasis may leave him in that...state... permanently."

"Doze him then? He seems in a lot of pain, which may explain his vitals."

"What if he really was poisoned?" asked Madam Pomfrey, earning her an incredulous raised eyebrow from her friend. "Of course, I don't mean you, you daft boy."

"Well, "he answered ignoring the older witch's poor choice of words. "The problem would be the same as the stasis charm, if he was poisoned, healing potions may aggravate his ailment. However, the Draught of the Living Death may work as it uses only four ingredients, mainly the sopophorous beans, that don't interact unfavourably with any ingredients that I know of."

At the woman's nod, he pulled out a leather case from an inside pocket of his robe that contained several little colourful vials. He selected one, popped the cork out and handed it to the mediwitch who forced the potion down the wizard's deformed and furry throat. They all waited in silence for the mediwitch to recast her monitoring spells.

"Better." she announced. "His life is not in immediate danger any more. I'll heal his self-inflicted wounds but I don't think I can do much more, this is way out of my capacities. We should call for Albus, maybe he well know something about this. And...do we know any other werewolves who would be willing to talk to us? Maybe this is a werewolf disease or something? They would know best in that case."

"Excellent idea, Poppy!" boomed Alastor. "I know a werewolf lady in Surrey, I'll go there right now."

"Thank you." the nurse said modestly, blushing a little at the praise from the fierce auror. "I'll report to Albus when I'm done here. There is not much I will be able to do after that. Harry, Hermione, would you mind being Remus' caretaker in the meanwhile, since you live here?"

The two friends glanced briefly at each other before nodding in unison.

"We'll manage."

"So, Potter. Care to resume our previous chat? It was most interesting. I think you were accusing me of … murder? Yes, that's it: murder." Professor Snape spat venomously, towering above the two young Gryffindors.

"So? You did slip him a potion, didn't you?" Harry said mulishly.

"I assure you I did not slip anyone any potion, ever. I did however offer Lupin a wolfsbane potion I painstakingly brewed. As I have been doing for the last six years."

"It's true, Harry. And Remus would know if it had been different from his usual potion, you know how strong his sense of smell is. He even said it tasted as bad as usual at lunch! As a matter of fact, I doubt anyone could ever poison a werewolf seeing they have such developed senses. How much more proof do you want? So... you'd better apologize to Professor Snape." Hermione snapped, ignoring the incredulous looks from both wizards. "Now." she added, giving Harry a not so discreet kick in the shin when the stubborn boy made no move to right his wrong.

"Okay! All right! Don't go all Molly Weasley on me!" Harry huffed, throwing his arms in the air in exasperation. "Snape, I shouldn't have said that... without proof." And he stalked off, leaving Hermione alone with the dour man.

"That's as good as you're going to get, I'm afraid." she explained. "He's not the apologizing type, even when you rub his nose in his errors."

"It's more than I ever got from the other Potter." he mumbled under his breath, unheard. "Why did you defend me?"

"You're not guilty." she said simply, shrugging nonchalantly. "Besides, our car-crash dummy is too useful to waste away in Azkaban for an imaginary murder attempt."

A fleeting quirk of his mouth told her that he understood once more the very muggle reference, while she had more difficulties containing her proud grin, that is, until her gaze feel on Remus' sleeping form.

"Is he still in pain?" she asked worriedly, standing by the bed and pushing a lock of hair -or fur- away from his eyes.

"His body is. We only alleviated the stress the pain caused by slowing down his body's rhythm and locking away his mind in a dreamless sleep for now. I have nourishing potions to prepare tonight, if you'll excuse me."

The witch nodded, looking at the wizard's retreating back and feeling she had been utterly useless since they had discovered Remus. She was no healer, no potion's master, no auror, and didn't even know other werewolves, or even that much about poisoning or dark curses. Completely and utterly useless.

Hermione had specialized in arithmancy after Hogwarts, being able to do much of the needed work and research from the safety of the headquarters since her mentor, Silwen Fredrik, was, just like herself a fellow Order member. Professor Fredrik's sole purpose in their organisation was to help plan their strategy by calculating the probability of success of their various actions. It was Dumbledore who had offered she takes on an apprenticeship with their arithmancer, who was also an old friend of his. A very old friend judging by the thousands of wrinkles that graced the witch's kind face. She was certain that the crafty old wizard had not done it out of the kindness of his heart however, but rather to ensure that as a muggle-born, she wasn't an easy target for the death-eaters, nor a burden for the Order of the Phoenix if she had chosen a more exposed career. She wondered if Dumbledore also worried that Master Fredrik would not be around much longer and was just being practical in finding her replacement. After all, the old man was so cunning she wouldn't put it pass him to kill two birds with one stone.

But now... Maybe it would really be of use to her, maybe she could run a few equations concerning Remus, to see the possible outcomes of his sickness and maybe even find the point of origin! The young woman got so excited by the idea that she may be of use after all that she itched for her quill and parchment, but she didn't want to leave Remus alone either, and she had promised Madam Pomfrey to take care of him.

Face scrunching up in thought, she finally decided on the best way to accomplish all her objectives.

"I'll be right back, Remus!" she called out to the prone form as she skipped out of the attic, and, true to her word she was back only ten minutes later, a heavy book-bag on her shoulder and arms laden with blankets, two of which she tucked around the sleeping man. He was after all mostly naked, and even if he was partially covered in fur, she wasn't sure it would be enough to keep the chill of the attic at bay.

Then she fetched a rickety wooden chair that was standing forlornly next to the door and transfigured it into another cot just five feet away from Remus'. If he needed her, she wanted to be next to him in an instant. Satisfied with her arrangements, she curled up into the last blanket and sat comfortably on her makeshift bed before whipping out her quill and parchment, an excited gleam dancing in her eyes at the prospect of doing something useful for the Order, and for Remus.

"Wake up, you silly girl!" The deep voice jerked Hermione awake, her attention immediately fixed on the next cot, instead of the dark looming figure standing by her bed.

"Good morning to you too, Professor Snape." she grumbled sarcastically, once she was satisfied Remus' health had not gotten any worse during the night. She untangled herself from her woollen blanket to get up. Books, parchments and quills falling around her feet as she did so. She blushed, having forgotten she must have fallen asleep sometime during the night as she tried puzzling together arithmantic equations that may help Remus. She had had no such luck of course, there were just too many unknown variables, rendering her equations as useful as a silencing charm on Mrs Black's portrait.

"Here, take these potions." The smirking wizard told her, thrusting quite a heavy package in her hands and clearly having no intention of greeting her back, but he did not mock her either so she took it as a good sign. "If you're so intent on babysitting Lupin, then you might as well do it right, since Poppy and I will be busy enough at Hogwarts."

How dare he? Hermione was livid that the wizard was implying that she had nothing better to do herself, as if she lounged about the headquarters all day like a flobberworm. Really! That man was insufferable. Swallowing down her Gryffindor pride, she walked to their patient's bed and took one of the vials from the package. She looked uncertainly from the unconscious werewolf to the vial.

"How do I make him drink it? I mean, he's still unconscious, so..."

"Did Miss Granger, infamous know-it-all, just admit her ignorance?" Professor Snape drawled. He seemed to be in one of his worse Gryffindor-baiting moods today -probably from the lack of sleep- so the witch bit her lip, forcing herself to remain silent and waited for him to continue.

"Help Lupin up into a sitting position so he doesn't choke on the potion." he ordered.

Hermione tried lifting Remus up to plop pillows behind his back, but he was just too heavy Not one to admit defeat so fast, she instead sat near his head and used her body as a lever, the unconscious wizard now lying half slumped against her thigh and shoulder. She tried not to touch too much of her friend's deformed limbs, not because it disgusted her, but because she was very afraid she was unknowingly hurting him.

"Now, tilt his head back just a little and pour the equivalent of one mouthful."

Hermione shifted a little to have better access to the werewolf's mouth. She uncorked the vial with one swift movement of her thumb while her other hand plied his deformed mouth open.

"Good. Now you'll have to massage his throat to encourage the swallowing reflex."

The witch did as she was told, still wary of hurting her sleeping friend. She gently stroked his throat, feeling his warm skin at times, tufts of silky fur at others, until she heard him gulp. Proud of having managed, she grinned at the Potions Master, who sneered right back.

"Three mouthfuls, twice a day, in the mornings and evenings. Madam Pomfrey will be relieved you can replace her for such a mundane task."

Hermione didn't know whether to feel insulted by the slant or happy that she was of some use, her arithmancy having failed her.

"Do you have any clearer idea of what happened to Remus?" she asked, desperate for any information that may help her arithmantic calculations.

"No. But what you said was interesting: I don't think that anyone could slip any potion to Lupin without his knowledge, and it would have needed to take place right after he left us, meaning in the headquarters. No, I don't believe in a poisoning at all. Which leaves..." he prompted.

"A spell? No, it's the same issue as the potion: he didn't leave headquarters and everybody here is trustworthy. A cursed object? We are in the Black Mansion after all, maybe we forgot a dark artefact somewhere when we were cleaning the house out."

"A possibility, however slim." the Slytherin nodded, thoughtful. "There is also the probability of a werewolf sickness that we do not know about. That maybe even Lupin did not know about since he doesn't mix a lot with his kind."

Hermione felt her stomach clench at the thought of them being powerless to save Remus.

After Professor Snape's visit came Dumbledore's and Alastor's, neither had good news to share. Remus' plight was unknown to all, and even the books Hermione had salvaged from the darker shelves of the Black library yielded no additional clue or insight, so she threw them against the wall in frustration.

"Sorry, Remus." she told the prone form. "I know you don't like to see books abused... But even you would agree that they're being very unhelpful. It seems the wizards who wrote books about werewolves are the same who wrote those about muggles: they don't know beans about the subject!"

"Manhandling books, Mione?" chuckled a tired Harry from the open doorway. He must have just gotten back from his day at the Ministry. "I think you need to take a break. I'll relieve you."

She smiled at his friend. It seemed Harry didn't want to leave Remus alone for a second either, and they both knew Remus would have done the same for them.

"Thanks, I think I need a shower." she said wrinkling her nose. "I'll be back in time to give Remus his potion."

She hurried through her ablutions and grabbed a snack in the kitchens. Sturgis had brought her her other meals during the day, braving his fear of the werewolf and even watching after him from the doorway when she needed a bathroom break. As she mounted the stairs, feeling much refreshed and relaxed after a good hot shower, she wondered if she should take a fresh set of clothes for Remus. Maybe Harry could bath Remus with a sponge too. Although the werewolf's body functions were slowed down to almost nothing, surely he would still need a wash from time to time.

Standing before the man's bedroom, she hesitated. It felt like she was snooping, although it was only to help her friend. Opening the door, she found a neat bedroom, quite unlike Harry's where everything had been thrown haphazardly somewhere else at some point. His wardrobe was just as tidy and she quickly found what she was looking for: a comfortable shirt, lounge-pants and... underwear. She blushed a deep crimson, suddenly wishing Madam Pomfrey was here to take care of him.

"What's the matter?" asked Harry when she returned with her bundle. Obviously she must still be flushed from her underwear-stealing adventure. Dumping Remus' clothes on her bed next to her best friend, she held out a large fluffy sponge in one hand and a basin in the other.

"Remus needs a bath." she explained.

"Scourgify?" begged Harry.

Hermione giggled, relieved that she wasn't the only one ill at ease with the duties that came with nursing someone. She shook her head.

"Madam Pomfrey doesn't want spells used on Remus until we know what happened to him."

Harry groaned, before trying his puppy-eyes on the witch. He had learned women usually caved in when the boy-who-lived looked at them like that.

"I'm not one of your brainless fan-girls, Harry!" she said, swatting his arm playfully. "But all right, I'll take care of the upper half if you take care of..hum...the rest."

And so the week went past in the same pattern: Hermione sleeping next to Remus at nights, and talking or reading to him in the day, feeding him his potion and bathing him every other day. The rest of the time, she poured over arithmantic equations, feeling she was getting closer to an answer since they had ruled out poisoning. She had included the parameters of the house, of the people living there, of major events prior to and following Remus' sickness and equations were just beginning to thread together. Hermione was very excited, this was by far the most complicated project she had attempted alone and she was fascinated by the logic and magic that weaved together, it was truly a very unique branch of magic, usually studied by muggle-borns because of the mathematical approach that wizards either distrusted or loathed.

At the end of the week, the arithmantic calculations pointed to the cause of Remus's condition, all variables pointing to the same culprit. It wasn't even a probability but a certainty. And she had checked over and over again, until she couldn't deny it. The reason for her Remus Lupin's mysterious sickness was her, Hermione Granger.