Carry You Over To A New Morning

Sirius was the first to recover.

'Yes, we've met,' he said, a hint of haughty indifference to his tone Remus had never heard before. He stood up and shook Remus's hand formally. 'First assistant-Healer Lupin, nice to see you again.'

'Er, yes,' Remus responded, letting go of his hand. 'You too.'

His mind conjured up images of Sirius, bleeding profusely, burn marks surrounding his mouth. Without thinking, Remus put his hand in his pocket and felt the coins there. He hadn't had a chance to give them back yet, and kept transferring them from pocket to pocket, on the off-chance Sirius would appear unexpectedly at St Mungo's again. He didn't want to make the boy feel like he'd stolen from him. But there was no way he could give them back without bringing up the last time that they'd met.

Alice was smiling brightly besides him, but Remus could see that her eyes were guarded. He'd never shared his suspicions with her after she'd helped cure Sirius, but she was smart, and he figured she thought something was off as well. Sirius, he realised with a jolt, hadn't known who Alice was at all, because he'd been unconscious by the time she'd appeared at his bedside. This was perhaps the reason he was still here, looking up at Remus with an inscrutable look on his face.

'Well,' Alice said, turning to Remus, 'let's get you fed, shall we? He's just come from the hospital,' she added, for the benefit of the Potters.

'Yes, please,' said Remus gratefully, earning a laugh from Fleamont, who clapped him on the back. 'Happy New Year's,' Remus offered, before Alice pulled him away. The three Potters and Sirius echoed his sentiments.

Remus's mind was reeling and it took him a few moments to realise that Alice was steering him past people and then into the kitchen, which smelled wonderfully of mince pie and cloves. The counter was filled with dirty glasses, and empty bottles of wine and champagne lay, abandoned, in the sink. Alice rounded on him, sitting him down in a chair by the kitchen table. Remus looked up at her helplessly.

'You look like you need a drink,' she said firmly, and opened a nearby cabinet, producing a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky and pouring him a glass.

Remus accepted it from her without a word, taking a sip. The whisky was warm, and he could feel it burn all the way down his throat. Alice, meanwhile, was reheating some of the roast lamb she'd made for dinner.

'I hadn't –' he said.

'I know,' Alice interrupted, looking up at him. 'But you can't say anything to him.'

'I wasn't planning to,' Remus said softly, a little stung.

Next to his other patients, Remus tended to a handful of private, out-care patients, who paid a hefty fee to the hospital each month to be guaranteed immediate care. As with all his patients, Healer confidentiality was expected, but the galleons the private patients paid got them one other guarantee: Healers assigned to their cases were strictly forbidden to involve any of the other Healers. And in bringing in Alice to help him with Sirius, Remus had broken that confidentiality, and he'd been summoned into Healer Kinnaird's office. Remus had had to defend his impulsive decision to Kinnaird by insisting it had been a matter of life or death and he hadn't had the expertise in Potions required for the case. He'd narrowly escaped a fine, but Kinnaird had assigned him an extra twelve-hour shift, without pay, as punishment.

Which had been why he'd had to report to the hospital today, on New Year's, and had spent the day healing incredibly stupid people.

Remus was startled out of his reverie by Alice, who put a plate full of lamb and crispy, browned potatoes on the table in front of him. It smelled heavenly. Out of the three of them, Alice had been the best cook, and there'd always been something delicious to heat up when he returned to the flat. Her presence had made it a home; now it was more a place he and Marlene slept.

'Eat,' she said, her tone motherly, putting a hand on his shoulder and plucking the empty whisky glass out of his hand. 'We'll wait until you come back to set off the fireworks.'

'Thanks,' Remus said, tucking in gratefully. She smiled, and left him to it, closing the kitchen door softly behind her.

Fifteen minutes later, Remus had washed up his plate and had just found the right spot to put it back in – he still didn't really know his way around Alice's kitchen, because it was larger than any he'd ever seen – when the door opened. Remus turned to the sound, banging his head on the cabinet door in the process, and swore, rubbing his forehead.

'Sorry,' came Sirius's voice, sounding apologetic. 'I didn't mean to startle you.'

Remus froze.

'Look,' said Sirius, his eyes focused somewhere around Remus's ear. 'Thanks. I mean, for Christmas.'

'Just doing my job,' said Remus carefully, closing the cabinet door, and looking at him properly. Sirius was wearing a cheerful red, thick woollen jumper, emblazoned with a lion, which made Remus's lips quirk upwards in amusement. He was certainly very proud to be in Gryffindor.

'Right,' responded Sirius, looking down at the floor.

Remus, meanwhile, had made his way towards Sirius and was standing still in front of him. Up close, Sirius seemed really small, and fragile, in a way.

'I still have your money,' Remus said, remembering suddenly and fishing the coins out of his pocket. 'I've been meaning to give it back to you.'

Sirius blinked at Remus's outstretched hand for a second, and then looked up at him, his striking grey eyes wide.

'Oh,' Sirius said, his voice clipping around the sound. 'That's all right. Keep it.'

Remus opened his mouth to respond but at that moment, as if on cue, Fabian Prewett poked his head around the kitchen door.

'Remus,' he sing-songed, 'have you finished? Only you're taking absolutely ages and making everyone wait.'

'I'm done, Fabian,' Remus responded, amused.

Sirius was looking between the two of them, his eyes having turned bright with recognition, his mouth having dropped slightly. Any Gryffindor would recognise Fabian and his twin, Gideon Prewett, who were legendary in Gryffindor for their pranks and general naughtiness. Remus had known the twins since forever; his father was close friends with Mr Prewett, and the Lupins had spent countless dinners at their house.

'Let's get going, then, before Frank starts screaming bloody murder,' Fabian said, and there was a warm familiarity in the way his arm was slung over Remus's shoulder.

Remus pressed the coins into Sirius's open palm, grinning at him with a mischievous look in his eyes. He left him standing in the kitchen by himself, hand outstretched and a look of utter bewilderment on his face.

The start of the New Year disappeared in a hazy mist of magical fireworks and a blurry picture of rounds, seventy-two hour shifts, and patients. Remus didn't see Sirius at all, something that made him feel both anxious and relieved. And before he knew it, it was August. London was brightly lit and deceptively humid, a heat which permeated the walls of the courtyard of St Mungo's. He was sitting with Marlene and Alice, chatting amiably about a new potion that had just been invited by a famous potioneer Alice admired, his white Healer robes sticking to his neck uncomfortably. Lunch was almost over.

Marlene's wand was the first to buzz, summoning her into St Mungo's, which was softly cool by contrast. Alice's wand pulsed quickly after that, and she disappeared with a small smile over her shoulder. So Remus sat by himself, thoughtfully finishing his lunch, as he looked up to the set of beech trees that knotted themselves into a web above his head. He felt rather than heard his wand vibrate next to him, and he sighed as it summoned him to the fourth floor. He stood up, his limbs languid and warm in the thick summer air.

All in all, he couldn't say he was very surprised, when he made his way there, to come face to face with Mrs Black. The magical parchment that hovered in front of him the moment he entered the room merely provided a prim list of symptoms that could describe to any number of diseases.

'Mrs Black,' he greeted politely.

'First assistant-Healer Lupin,' she said, somehow making it sound like an insult.

'Mr Black,' Remus said softly, making his way over to the bed, where Sirius was sitting, looking pale, and like his skin wasn't fitting him right. Sirius didn't look at him.

'He's been like that for days,' Mrs Black said crossly, 'I'd like you to fix him.'

'Certainly,' said Remus, ordering his wand to start with the diagnostic spells, which it did, hovering over Sirius and calmly lighting up patches of his skin with a faint, comforting blue light. Spells complete, the wand fell limply into Remus's waiting hand.

'Mr Black, I'm going to need you to disrobe,' he said.

Sirius turned his head, slowly and lethargically, and nodded his assent.

'I'll wait outside,' Mrs Black said, and left the room, surprising Remus with her discreetness.

Remus, meanwhile, stood with his back turned towards the bed, waiting patiently as behind him, Sirius undressed. He heard the shift of fabric, the sound of fingers slipping on buttons, the small hush of robes falling to the cold hospital floor. Remus turned around after it stopped and found Sirius sitting there, looking out of the window of the room, which had been magically spelled to show a beautiful summer's day in Kent.

'I'm going to examine you now,' Remus said softly, sitting down on the bed next to Sirius. He pressed his hand, softly but with pressure, against the ribs on Sirius's left side, and heard and felt Sirius's sharp intake of breath against his fingers. Remus ignored this, and felt his way around the boy's ribcage, carefully, searching, cataloguing.

At least two broken ribs on the left side, it felt like. Remus's fingers continued their search, pushing carefully on each one at the other side, and then Sirius started coughing – a sound that Remus could feel came from deep within his chest, and looked enormously painful. Remus conjured a handkerchief for him, and was unfazed when Sirius offered it back to him, stained with green phlegm, a while later.

'Three broken ribs, two cracked,' Remus told him, Sirius's skin burning with fever underneath his hands. 'And I suspect you're suffering from bronchitis. How long have you been ill, Mr Black?'

'What's today?' Sirius asked him. His voice sounded hoarse, and it looked like a struggle for him to get the words out.

'August 17th,' Remus responded, taking his wand out and pressing it carefully against the ribs on Sirius's left side.

'Two weeks,' came Sirius's response, easy and practised.

Remus didn't bother telling him that the magic that whooshed out of his body when Remus healed the ribs on his right side felt older, because that would mean that Sirius's ribs had been cracked and broken for almost two months now, and Remus thought Sirius knew that all too well. He moved his hand to Sirius's forehead, which felt feverish and slightly damp. He muttered a spell and Sirius's fever broke against his waiting hand, fading easily into the air around them.

Remus held his hand there for a fraction longer, glancing down at Sirius, who was looking up at him, his eyes slowly adjusting to the room as if he was seeing it for the first time.

'I have asked you this before,' Remus said, softly. He felt Sirius stiffen underneath his hand. 'But I shall ask once more. Are you sure you are all right, Mr Black?'

'Yes,' Sirius said at once, sounding exasperated, and haughty. His eyes were an accusing shade of grey, blazing brightly at Remus, and one of his fists was clenched. 'You need to stop asking me that.'

'Very well,' Remus said, easily dropping his hand. 'I have healed your ribs, but you will need to take a set of potions for your bronchitis. It was neglected for far too long and a simple Healing Charm will not work. I've broken the fever for now, but it will return.'

'Fine,' Sirius responded, and for the first time, Remus noticed that Sirius's breath – now that it wasn't laced with sickness and pain – smelled like nicotine. Without really meaning to, Remus's eyebrows rose up off their own accord. Was Sirius even old enough to be smoking, being all of twelve?

Sirius merely looked up at him, eyes narrowed. 'What?' he barked.

'I'd recommend you lay off cigarettes when you take the potions, Mr Black,' Remus said, angry for no reason he could properly explain to himself, finding his voice slipping easily into that lilt his grandfather's always had, dangerous and pureblood around the edges. Sirius's eyes widened, seemingly off their own accord, and he looked genuinely surprised for a second.

At that exact moment, the door opened, and Mrs Black stepped in.

'Have you quite finished?'

'Mother!' Sirius said, sounding utterly horrified at being found by her, half-undressed. Mrs Black paid him no mind, however, and merely fixed her cold blue eyes on Remus, expectantly.

'All is finished,' Remus said, the magical parchment zooming neatly into his hand as he listed down the details of the injuries and the recommended treatment. 'Sirius is suffering from bronchitis. I will prescribe him a set of potions, which should be taken for the rest of the week. They will be delivered by owl post to your house within the hour. Your son should be right as rain after that.'

'Thank you,' said Mrs Black.

'Yes, thank you, first assistant-Healer Lupin,' Sirius said shortly, somehow managing to sound not the least bit thankful at all. Remus bowed to them both, and left the room, annoyance flaring, hard, in his stomach.

Fine. If Sirius didn't want his help, then he wasn't going to give it.