Amelia slept then, until early evening.
Ron had been allowed back into the school and Poppy was apparently at dinner with the rest of the staff. It was dark inside the Hospital Wing. She flexed her arm, wearily. It hurt.
As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she realised that she could make out a shadow in darkness – it didn't feel particularly threatening.
"Remus?" she asked.
He lent forwards then, and she could see that he'd been hurt in the struggle with Sirius; he was scratched, pale and haggard.
"I came to say goodbye," he said quietly. There was defeat in his voice. "I'm glad you're all right."
"Goodbye?" Amelia sputtered, shocked. "What? Why? No –"
He laid a gentle hand on her arm.
"I could have killed you Amelia," he said heavily. "Or bitten you – I'm not sure which would be worse. I'm not safe."
Arguments swam through her head; bewildered and panicking, she selected one at random.
"But you can't just leave, the Potion –" but he cut across her.
"If I forget to take it again the same thing will happen, or worse."
"I won't let you forget it!" she snapped, fiercely.
"No, Amelia," he said, and that steely note had returned to his voice. "I'm going to stay away from you. I should never have let myself get so close."
She stared at him, open-mouthed.
"Don't you bloody dare!" she hissed.
"Amelia…" he ran a hand through his greying hair, frustrated. Why couldn't she understand that this was for the best? Even if it is killing you, said that voice at the back of his head. "I nearly killed you last night."
"But you didn't –"
"I'm a werewolf!" he snapped, suddenly, and once again she could see the wolfishness pass across his gentle features. "I have to live my life being chased from job to job and village to village. Even if I hadn't hurt you, that's no kind of life for you. I'm also older than you – no, don't interrupt – much older. You – you deserve someone who can make you happy, someone you can raise a family with, someone whom you can trust – not someone who could kill you in your sleep."
She was frozen, she realised; paralysed by his idiocy.
"So I'm afraid I have to say goodbye," he said sadly. He stood, and the ghost of a smile dashed across his face. "It really has been quite wonderful, Miss Brown."
When he received no response, he strode, miserably but purposefully, out of the Hospital Wing.
It took a few seconds for Amelia's brain to re-engage.
"Oy!" she shouted, and made to get up. Her left shoulder screamed in protest and she gritted her teeth.
Barefoot, bleeding from her recent exertions and clad in her pyjamas she chased him out of the Hospital Wing, through the Clocktower and across the Entrance Hall, where she scattered a few stunned students.
"I'm talking to you!" she shouted, crossly, aware that her wounds were re-opening. She was severely pissed off.
Remus tried to pay her no heed and speeded up; this was a mistake. He had intended to hole up in his office, but his present route was taking him out into the grounds.
It was a clear night and the waning moon shone brightly down on them. Both glared at it, with considerable venom.
"Oy, Prick!"
Amelia huffed in frustration as they reached the Black Lake. She stopped by its edge and cast around for a way of making him slow down. Remus couldn't hear her following him any more; he allowed his pace to slacken a little.
SPLAT!
The gob of muddy pondweed hit him in the back of the head; he whirled around. Amelia was stood ten feet away, one hand full of mud, the other hanging limp beside her – she was glowering at him.
"This is not up for discussion!" he shouted, and turned away.
SPLAT!
This one hit his ear; he pulled an alarmed pond snail off his face and threw it back into the lake, angrily.
Amelia was bending down to gather more ammunition, expression grim.
"Please don't make this any harder –" he dodged as the next missile flew past his head.
"This really is quite childish!" he snapped.
"You really are quite patronising!" she shot back.
Angry, and rather at a loss, he turned to walk off again.
SPLAT!
He froze as the mud dripped down the back of his collar. Somewhere behind him, he heard Amelia give a soft "Hah."
Remus lost his temper.
Stooping to gather ammunition, he whirled to face her, ready to attack.
Amelia, however, had dropped to her knees and was pressing a hand to her injured shoulder; she looked up at him. She was very pale.
"Idiot!" he said, though he was far angrier with himself now than with her. He flung the mud to the ground and rushed to her side. Amelia's adrenaline, the only thing keeping her angry and on her feet, had finally left her, exhausted and defeated, in a puddle of muddy pebbles on the shores of the Lake.
"Are you dizzy? Let me help you up –" he babbled.
Amelia stayed where she was and turned away from him.
"You shouldn't have come after me like that!" he said. "That was so foolish!"
The woman on the ground made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob and swayed, dangerously.
"Amelia…" No response. He could see the blood soaking through her bandages, staining her cotton pyjamas.
You did this! his mind hissed. You hurt her! You betrayed her!
"Mel…" he reached out to her, but she pulled away weakly, falling on her side to the pebbles of the Lake.
"Please… I need to get you back to the Hospital Wing," there was urgency in his voice now.
"I don't want your help," she muttered, pulling her legs up to her chin in a sitting position. "You helping me means you going away."
He stared at her, miserably.
"I have to."
"No, you don't," she said dully, her voice muffled through her working arm. "You're just running away again, like you always do. Leaving me behind, just like everybody else."
It occurred to Remus that if she wouldn't go with him to the Hospital Wing, he would have to stay out here with her. He moved to her uninjured side and sat beside her, but she shuffled away.
Amelia grimaced again and felt her shoulder.
"You know, Poppy should really have a look at that," he said, tentatively.
"What's the point?" she asked, crossly, aware that she sounded like a petulant child.
Remus found himself rather at a loss for words.
"Er – well, she'd be able to heal it up better… and it wouldn't hurt as much…"
He looked at her; she was shaking, hard. For the hundredth time that day, he felt his heart shatter. All he wanted to do was take this woman into his arms and tell her that everything would be ok; but he knew that if he let himself get too close to her again he'd never be able to let her go…
"You don't get it, do you?" she said quietly, mostly to herself. "I don't want younger, or safer or more employable. I want you."
She looked over at him then, and he saw the tired desperation in her eyes.
"You're good, and kind, and loyal, and forgiving. You're a brilliant teacher. You read poetry on purpose," she paused, and continued very quietly, "… you make me feel wanted, and safe. Like nothing else can hurt me… and, I love you."
In a flash, he remembered her winter encounter with her ex-boyfriend and her mother's recent death. Apart from a girl half her age and an aunt she barely saw, who did this odd, lovely, frightened woman have, except him?
"I honestly don't know what I'll do without you around," she was saying, muffledly. "But if what you need is to be away from me then I'll leave. I've seldom met a better teacher, and you have a home here – I'm not going to take that away from you."
Even in the depths of her despair, she was trying to do what was best for him.
That last, tiny, rational part of him that was forcing him away from her finally broke down and pissed off for a cup of tea.
"Oh, Mel," he said helplessly, wrapping his arms around her; hot tears splashed onto her face and she realised that he too was crying.
"You're right, you're right, I can't leave," he sobbed into her shoulder.
Crying too, she held on to him tightly with her good arm.
"I'm a fool," he said, muffledly. "How could I stay away from the woman I love?"
He looked up at her then.
"I promised you once that you'd not have to face things alone," he traced a finger down her cheek, smearing her face with mud. "I'd forgotten – I'm sorry."
"You're going to stay?" Amelia asked, holding his gaze.
Remus nodded.
"Forever – if you want me to."
Amelia smiled wetly back at him.
"Forever, then."
He kissed her then, trying to put everything he felt for her into the working of his jaw. Eventually, they broke apart. He rubbed her back, and then remembered why they were sat on a stony, muddy beach.
"Gods, you're cold," he said, and he lifted her to her feet. He realised, fleetingly, that they were now both covered in muddy water. "We'd better get you back up to the castle, or Hermione might hunt me down and crucify me."
She nodded, sleepily; warm sounded like an excellent idea.
"Wouldn't want that…" she mumbled.
Together they picked their way back up to the castle that had become their home.
0o0o0o0
Poppy Pomfrey walked slowly back to the Hospital Wing that evening. She'd noted Remus's absence at dinner and had decided that the two of them needed some time alone, to deal with the events of the previous few days.
She glanced up at the waning moon, sadly. Remus had always been such a kind and thoughtful man, so afraid of hurting anybody; she could only imagine what the attack on Amelia was doing to him.
She'd treated his scrapes and bruises that morning; he'd been courteous, as always, but also largely silent. He'd barely taken his eyes off Amelia, still and pale in the hospital bed. She shook her head and hoped vaguely that he had kept his – they were both very nice people and they were clearly in love.
As he'd sat and stared at her that morning, Remus had had the look of a man about to bolt.
As she entered the Hospital Wing and glanced up towards her patient, she caught her breath. Something was wrong.
With a flick of her wands she lit the lanterns: Amelia's bed was empty, her pillows scattered across the floor.
Wand up, Poppy whirled to the door, ready to give the alarm, but found that there was no need.
There, at the end of the corridor, were two bedraggled teachers. Remus was supporting a stumbling Amelia and they were laughing together, softly. Both were head-to-toe covered in mud.
Poppy allowed herself a moment to enjoy the sight before carefully arranging her features into a suitably matronly scowl.
"Mr Lupin!" she barked. Two pairs of eyes snapped up in surprise. "What do you think you have been doing to my patient?"
The healthy respect for Madame Pomfrey that had been established in his schooldays immediately reasserted itself; he straightened up at once and began to stutter, guiltily.
Amelia, who had caught Poppy's eye in the stunned silence that had followed her outburst, began to chuckle. She was almost certain that Poppy was about to tell him to tuck in his shirt.
"Get in here this second!"
Remus started forwards involuntarily, taking Amelia with him. Poppy, relishing this effect, looked the pair up and down with a severe expression.
"You're both filthy!" it was a little bit like being shouted at by a primary school teacher, Amelia realised. It was both funny and threatening at the same time. The older witch's voice changed a little, and she studied Amelia's expression (Remus's was still one of dutiful obedience) closely. "What have you been doing?"
Amelia responded with a somewhat withering look.
"Amelia, come with me," Poppy commanded, business-like, and the two witches went towards Amelia's bed, leaving Remus stood sheepishly in the doorway, self-consciously picking bits of pondweed out of his hair. He felt rather as though he'd just travelled in time and was fifteen again, having escorted James and Sirius to the Hospital Wing after a spectacular and memorable failed prank involving the Giant Squid.
Poppy cleaned Amelia up with a flick of her wand and went about removing her bloodstained bandages.
"Mr Lupin, would you fetch a Warming Potion from the cabinet please?" she asked absently. "No, wait." Remus froze, mid-stride. "We can't have you dripping all over the place," she said disapprovingly. Without turning around, the older witch flicked her wand at him.
Finding himself clean and dry he crossed to Amelia's bedside and handed her the Warming Potion.
She smiled up at him as the magic did its work and the colour returned to her cheeks. Its welcome thawing effect had the unfortunate consequence of returning the feeling to her shoulder and she grimaced, looking down at it.
The wounds were deep. Four long claw-marks had torn into the flesh of her shoulder. Amelia now saw how lucky she had been: if she hadn't turned towards Hermione's scream the werewolf would have ripped her throat out.
Remus too was looking at the wounds.
That last modicum of rational self-disgust looked up from its tea-break and folded up its newspaper.
The very moment before he turned away, Amelia caught his hand and refused to let go.
"Amelia –" he began.
"Don't," she said. "You're not going anywhere, it wasn't your fault."
"She's right you know," Poppy interjected, smearing some healing ointment across her patient's skin. The skin tightened under the cream, knitting the wounds together: they'd be nothing but scars soon. "I know you, Remus," the older witch said, gently. "Always so quick to take the blame. But it wasn't your fault, and it wasn't the wolf's fault either. It's in his nature."
"But –"
"But nothing." She looked up at him, wiping her hands on her apron. "How much of it do you remember?"
"Only fragments, really…" he said, slowly.
"Well I suppose that's a mercy at least." She looked hard at both of them. "Miss Granger stayed with you, Amelia, when Mr Potter ran after Black – yes, I do believe their version of events," she continued, waving their interruptions away. "Those children were not Confunded. When the Dementors came, you ran back up to where she and Amelia were," she nodded at Remus. "Hermione was afraid the werewolf had 'come back for seconds,' as it were, but he – you – lay down by the two of them and whined. She said that you kept trying to get Amelia to wake up… You only left them when Severus fell out of the Mobilicorpus charm."
(The puzzle of this revelation left little room for Amelia to consider the hilarity of Severus's comedic awakening, but you, dear reader, may take a moment to picture him waking, confused, before falling flat on his face, flailing wildly. Enjoy!)
Poppy surveyed them for a moment before making up her mind.
"I don't usually do this," she said, "but would you mind staying to keep an eye on Amelia, Remus? I have a meeting with Minerva."
Remus nodded numbly and sat down beside Amelia's bed – she still hadn't let go of his hand.
She watched him carefully as Poppy slipped out of the Hospital Wing.
"Remus?"
"I…"
She waited, not really knowing whether he'd stay or make a run for it; she knew that this time she wouldn't be able to follow him. He met her eyes.
"I've never heard of a werewolf behaving like that towards a human."
He glanced at her shoulder in a troubled fashion… an appalling thought had begun to filter into his mind. Amelia took in his expression.
"I won't turn," she said. "I asked Poppy – seeing as I wasn't bitten. She smiled wryly, "it's just a scratch."
Remus looked greatly relieved.
"My… the wolf's… behaviour doesn't make sense though… if that's the case." He looked like he was trying to solve a particularly tricky crossword puzzle: he was frowning slightly and his eyes flicked from side to side as if he were looking at various explanations in his mind's eye. It was intensely adorable.
"Unless…" a change spread across his features; he looked at Amelia in wonder. "Unless… the wolf recognised you… which it wouldn't do… unless he'd chosen you – as his mate."
Amelia stared back at him in astonishment.
"Is that even possible?"
"It's been known to happen… but there needs to be an exceptionally strong connection between the two parties – it tends not to happen unless both people are werewolves, though it's not unknown."
"Exceptionally strong…"
"Yes," he said slowly.
"But when I first went towards you – him, you – he – attacked me…"
"It's possible that it happened too fast for him to notice, if the bloodlust took over too quickly… or the fact that you howled after I – we – hurt you."
"I howled?"
"In pain… but it was still a howl… I remember that bit quite clearly. Werewolves respond to that sort of noise… it's a call… a means of tracking friends – or family."
"Oh," Amelia said. She didn't really know what to say to him… at least this sort of meant that he wouldn't run away any time soon. Even if he did, the wolfish part of him might come back of its own accord – she wouldn't have anything to fear from him anymore. She squeezed his hand.
"Are you alright? With all this I mean… wolves tend to mate for life…" he said, suddenly nervous. What if she doesn't want this… doesn't want me?
"I know… it's a bit big to fit in my head all at once… but what does fit makes me quite happy," she said, smiling at him.
Nerves changed quickly into surprise and swiftly into stunned happiness.
"Erm, so you… we… erm…"
Amelia grinned at him. He cleared his throat.
"So… after the end of term… are you staying here?"
"Not for long," she said, and found that she would be sad to leave even for the summer months, "I have to go see Bea, and there's the summer harvest to bring in, and I may end up on a local dig, I usually do."
Remus's face fell.
"Oh… I'd hoped…"
"What?"
"I'd hoped we'd be together," he mumbled.
"… I'd sort of assumed that you'd come with me – I mean, i-if you want to." It was Amelia's turn to feel nervous.
"I – I wouldn't want to impose –"
"You wouldn't be," she assured him quickly. "Bea will love you… and Hermione's going to be away at the Burrow for a while – Ron said something about the Quidditch World Cup –"
It took a while for Remus to find his voice again.
"I – that would be wonderful, Amelia, really. Are you sure?"
Amelia gave him a Look, and he grinned. It looked like it would be an interesting summer.
0o0o0o0
Unnoticed, Hermione smiled to herself. She too had been puzzling over the werewolf's odd behaviour – the way he'd nuzzled at Amelia's palm or neck, trying to wake her, whining plaintively at Hermione when he'd had no success. After the initial fear had worn off it had become quite amusing. He'd put himself between them and the Dementors whenever it had looked like they might come nearer.
A quick trip to the library had confirmed Hermione's suspicion that Remus might be a more permanent part of Amelia's life than he might have thought.
She slipped out of the Hospital Wing under the cover of the Invisibility Cloak; she'd borrowed it from Harry to visit her cousin, but she could see that Amelia was well tended. So preoccupied was she in smirking at her cousin's good fortune that she collided with Severus on the main staircase.
Hit by an invisible something, the Potions Master drew his wand.
"Show yourself!"
Hermione let out her breath in a rush; sitting up, she pulled off the cloak, looking ashamed.
Severus lowered his wand and he assessed her speculatively, sprawled on the steps below him.
"You do realise that students who walk the halls at night get into trouble," he snarled, and Hermione, assuming that he was still smarting from the night before, began to stutter an explanation.*
He rolled his eyes at her and offered her his hand.
"I expect you were checking on your cousin," he said.
Dumbfounded, she took his hand and righted herself, tucking the Invisibility Cloak into her pocket as she did so.
"And is she alright?" he asked, clearly amused at her astonishment.
Hermione nodded.
"Remus was with her."
Severus smiled, so he's forgiven us… and himself. That's a start, she thought. Or more likely, Amelia had beaten some sense into him.
"Good," he looked at the student in front of him; she was watching him with a curious expression.
"At the risk of losing my awe-inspiring reputation," he began, "I shall escort you back to your Common Room. Can't have you running into any other teachers."
Surprised, Hermione followed him up the staircase.
"I was wondering if I could speak with you, Mr Potter and Mr Weasley tomorrow," he said, not unkindly. Hermione was aware that this was not a request. "Shall we say two o'clock tomorrow, in my office?"
He left her at the portrait-hole, staring after him.
"Well, that was weird," she said to herself, stepping through.
0o0o0o0
*I would like to make it perfectly clear at this juncture that I did not realise how dirty this section sounded when I wrote it. Go on, read it again from 'Hit by an invisible something' to the asterisk. Try reading it in the dirtiest voice you can.
That's what an entire living room full of archaeologists (and one computer geek) are currently doing… (Although Helen just started singing about 'meat chops', I fear she may be somewhat distracted).
An amalgamation of the conversation would go as follows:
"It gets normal here, I swear," says I, trying hard not to laugh. " '…Hermione, assuming that he was still smarting from the night before...' Oh."
"Oh, honey, that's just not right!" shouted Jamie, listening from the kitchen.
Rowena, looking up from her crochet, glanced at me in amusement. "Oh my," she said.
Niall, who had spent the previous few minutes sniggering into his coffee, put on his best Snape voice:
"I am Snape, the date-rape Maaaster!"
Snorting, Helen chipped in with, "Oh professor, I just fell down the steps and I have no knickers on under my robes!" in a high-pitched voice.
"Enter at will," sniggered Niall.
"Poor Will," says I, trying to get back to my story.
…
I am aware that my characters (and probably my readers) are torn between crying, laughing and retching… (and two of them are desperately trying to hex my friends…)
See, this is why Amelia can never keep a straight face… there's just something about working in trenches and mud that puts your head straight in the gutter.