NOTE

Warning for mentions of cannibalism.

81. Tending

The snow ended in the night, to be replaced by freezing rain. In the morning the cold light shone on the leaves of the trees by the lake, all shrunken and drooped, heavy with ice. A hard wind blew through the early hours, and by noon all the leaves had come down.

So there was to be no dry, crisp autumn warmth. No leisurely walks through the sweet, smoky breeze and the honey sunlight. Instead, this brutal ending.

Pouncer left Remus's bed after a long sleep, and slipped around the corner to stretch his limbs in the corridors of the castle. I sat in the chair beside Remus, waiting anxiously to see if he would wake, until Poppy insisted that I go downstairs and eat.

I avoided the great hall for some time, walking through the chilly stairways, afraid of encountering Severus. But, when I finally braved the company of others, he was not there. I sat with George under the light of the floating candles and slowly ate a piece of cottage pie.

Minerva arrived after lunch. At first we didn't recognise her; a tall lean woman in a muggle coat and brown trousers stuffed into wellington boots, approaching across the viaduct bridge. A dark shadow against the snow and ice which had stuck to the hills beyond. Her hair wasn't tied so tightly as usual, and strands of it had escaped, tugged by the cold wet wind. We kept our wands raised even after we recognised her and asked the identifying questions–though we knew she was no impostor, or she wouldn't have got past the wards.

Luna offered her tea, but she declined. "I would like to see him."

"He hasn't woken," I said. Minerva looked at me, saw my hair, and her eyes saddened slightly. Her mouth was a very thin line, and she looked exhausted.

"Minerva," Arthur called, stepping through the front doors. "What brings you here? I thought you were with the group tracking Rowle and Macnair."

"I was."

"Any progress?"

"None." There was a bleakness in that word which made the wind feel colder. "Ten more attacks we suspect are their doing, in and around Manchester and Sheffield."

"You'd think the Ministry would be better at hunting people down by now," Luna said airily.

Minerva nodded. "Yes, one would." She turned to me, her jaw grimly set. "Not awake at all? Has he stirred?"

I shook my head no.

"Take me to him."

I led her to the hospital wing, Luna and Arthur remaining downstairs to keep watch. I was glad Minerva had come. She brought a strong ability to lead, to make decisions. At the top of the stairs near the entrance to the hospital wing, she stopped me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I heard," she said.

For a moment I was blank, and then she hugged me close. I stiffened in the arms of my once head of house, surprised by this warmth from a woman usually so rigid. I knew she was referring to Greyback. My killing of Greyback. She pulled away, keeping her hands on my shoulders, her eyes firm. "Don't let it destroy you. Don't let it."

I managed to nod, as footsteps sounded through the archway. "Minerva?" Poppy said, as she emerged. I stood back to watch the two women embrace, and trailed along after them as they entered the hospital wing.

Minerva approached Remus's bed and laid her hand on his forehead. She frowned down at him, keeping her voice low. "Many injuries?"

"Many," Poppy said.

Minerva clasped her hands in front of her and turned to me. "Miss Weasley, would you find him some clothes, something warmer, and perhaps bring a book."

I worried that I was being sent from the room so that something else could be discussed; something, perhaps about the nature of the attacks by Thorfinn and Rowle. I shivered as I remembered my visions of their crimes, and decided I did not mind being banished.

"What clothes?" I asked.

"Look in Matthias's chambers," Minerva said. "I am sure he wouldn't mind, and I believe they're the same size."

Her tone was far too light, and I realised she must not have heard that Matthias Favre had died. His skeleton had been among the bones we'd exhumed at the site of Greyback's lair.

Poppy, mercifully, was the one to deliver the news. "Minerva… He is dead."

Minerva stood still for a moment, and then sat down in the chair by Remus's bed. She had been Favre's mentor, after all; had planned to hand over the post of Transfiguration Professor to him once the year was out. Her face had gone slightly pale, but her mouth remained set and resigned.

"Yes," she said, at length. "And I'm sure he wouldn't mind. About his clothes."

There was a moment of silence. "Where is his room?" I asked.

"Down the fourth floor corridor, by the windmill landscape."

"And the book… to read to him?"

Minerva nodded. "It would be good of you. We need to know what he knows, as soon as possible."

I resented it, but I knew Severus had been right about my voice leading Remus to consciousness. It was certainly true that we needed to know what he knew. Perhaps he had overheard pieces of some plan, which would help us to capture Magnus and the others in the forest. But, more important to me, he needed to be able to take the first dose of the Wolfsbane tomorrow morning. There was no way he would survive the approaching moon unless he could keep his mind. Otherwise, with the little strength he had left, he would tear himself apart.

I nodded my head in agreement with Minerva, and left her and Poppy to their own company.

Favre's chamber door was wooden, like all the other doors, but as I stood in front of it it looked somehow heavier. I had to unlock it magically, with a quiet click, and it took a minute to work up the courage to turn the doorknob.

Dust motes floated through the air, illuminated by the thin, light-grey light from the two peaked windows. Favre had left the room in a state of mild disarray, common among academics. Books and papers were piled on his desk, but not to the point of chaos. The bedcovers were folded open, revealing wrinkled sheets, and two books lay upon them; one open, one closed. On the bedside table sat an abandoned cup of tea.

I remembered my relief when I'd discovered that Favre had been the skeleton from my dream, not Remus. Laid out between Greyack and Magnus, recently relieved of its muscles, its organs, now heavy and steaming in the stomachs of the monsters. I stared at the objects in the room, remembering the pile of bones, and pushed down the urge to be ill.

"I'm sorry," I whispered into the quiet air.

I crossed like a ghost to the chest of drawers in the corner of the room, too ashamed to feel the floorboards beneath my feet. Rarely had I seen Favre in anything other than his teaching robes, but his taste in casual clothes was not far from Remus's. They were all folded and well cared for.

I took a big brown jumper and grey pyjama trousers, as well as some underwear and socks. I carried them in my arms and whispered my thanks into the room before stepping out, closing the door behind me.

The library was just as empty, and quite cold. I spent a quarter of an hour roaming the shelves, waiting for something to call to me. In the end it was a frayed red clothbound book, small enough to fit in a man's pocket. I opened it and saw it was a poem, the ragged end of the verse like sideways mountains down the page. An old and dusty smell of glue and ink emanated from the spine. I hadn't a clue what it was about. But Remus wouldn't care about the words.

I closed the book and left the library, taking my time going back downstairs. I felt my heartbeat more acutely in my chest, and my hands felt cold with sudden nerves.

I remembered the first time we'd read together, on the first night of our marriage. I'd squinted at the illustrations in the Encyclopedia of Toadstools until I'd worked up the bravery to ask him to go to bed.

I shook the memory from my mind. But I knew I would be lucky if my impending encounter with Severus turned out to be half as easy as that night had been. My stomach ached with sadness and confusion, and I took a moment to breathe deeply before entering the hospital wing.

Poppy and Minerva had finished speaking, and Minerva was staring silently out one of the windows while Poppy redressed Remus's wounds.

"Perfect," she said, when she saw the clothes in my arms. "He should wake up comfortably. Well. As comfortably as…"

There was no need to say more.

I helped Poppy to dress Remus while Minerva stood silently by. It felt like an intrusion of some kind. I had seen him without clothes on, of course. But his body had changed. He'd been lean before, but now much of the muscle in his legs and torso had wasted away. His ribs were visible, and the white dressings of his many healing scars glared at me like shards of moonlight. My hands shook as I helped to lift him enough to slip on the underwear, trousers and jumper, and then turned away, leaving Poppy to cover him again.

"I need to speak to the others," Minerva said, looking at Remus beneath the blankets.

"Would you stay here while I go downstairs?" Poppy asked me. She'd not yet had lunch, and I nodded my head, though I was anxious at the idea of being completely alone with Remus–without even Pouncer as a source of comforting energy.

Minerva pressed her hand into my shoulder as she passed me, and the two older witches left the hospital wing.

There was no rain outside, but the sharp damp wind coldly caressed the windows, seeping through the glass. I reached under the blankets to pull a second pair of warm socks over Remus's feet.

His breathing was very slow, almost invisible.

"Are you going to wake up?" I asked him quietly.

I watched him for a moment before sitting down in the chair and opening the small red book. I touched the smooth pages with my fingertips, and began to read.

"A prince I was, blue-eyed, and fair in face, Of temper amorous, as the first of May, With lengths of yellow ringlet, like a girl, For on my cradle shone the Northern star. There lived an ancient legend in our house. Some sorcerer, whom a far-off grandsire burnt Because he cast no shadow, had foretold, Dying, that none of all our blood should know The shadow from the substance, and that one Should come to fight with shadows and to fall."

I looked up from the black letters, a small seed of wild hope in my heart. Had the words pierced the barrier, reminded him of consciousness? But Remus's face was as still as a statue's.

I wanted to keep him warm and safe. Wanted to lie down beside him.

But I couldn't do that.

I brought the chair a bit closer to the bed and rested my hand over his. I continued to read.

I read until evening, when darkness fell and the moon rose. Poppy had come back hours before and was in her office, sending patronuses to one of the nurses at St. Mungo's. The sound of her voice was muffled by the closed door, and I could see her walking back and forth through the frosted glass of the window.

A candle burned on the table beside Remus's bed, its light flickering over the words of the poem. My eyes and my voice were tired, so I closed the book and set it next to the candle, pulling on the blanket around my shoulders. Eyelids heavy, I watched his face. Unchanged.

Glancing towards Poppy again, I felt my heartbeat sink into my belly. I stood from the chair and sat down on the edge of Remus's bed, making the mattress sink a little. I leaned forward, studying the lines and hollows of his face, the old scars and the new one, ear to chin.

"Remus," I whispered.

His hand was lying on the covers, and I gently held it, my palm and my fingers warming his own.

"Don't sleep forever. If you sleep forever, you'll…"

There were so many things I wanted to tell him. Most of all, that it was safe to wake up. But I didn't know that for a fact. I had to face the possibility that he was floating in a deep numbness now, and to wake would prove a most painful return to reality.

A surge of emotion made me aware of that old lump in my throat. That barrier which held me down inside of myself, and kept me from expressing that for which I had no words.

I pressed his hand gently, swallowing down a heavy bucketful of tears. "Can you hear me?"

Dreamy footsteps sounded in the corridor, and I shifted over into the chair again, looking down at my trembling hands.

It was Luna, carrying a plate from the great hall. She'd brought me dinner. She set the plate down on top of the book, and gazed at Remus before sighing, sitting on the edge of the next bed. Her face was calm and cool in the candlelight.

"Arthur said to convince you to come downstairs, but I knew you wouldn't leave him."

I nodded, trying to convey my gratitude, but I was chained inside of myself. I looked away from Luna's wide, perceptive eyes, and continued to stare at Remus.

A while passed without words, only the sound of the wind outside. Luna's presence made me soften, and I felt myself breathing easily for the first time that day.

"I think I'm pregnant," she said, after a minute. I looked back at her, taking in the carefree expression on her face, at such odds with the news she'd just broken. Her head leaned curiously to the side. "I'm sorry. That was insensitive, wasn't it?"

"Congratulations," I managed.

Luna's mouth moved into a kind of half-smile. "I haven't told Neville yet. But I am happy about it. Although it is a strange time."

I nodded and looked away, studying Remus's long, thin fingers. My eyes felt heavy with unshed tears. I knew they wouldn't fall; not even if I tried to force them.

"It's curious isn't it?" Luna said.

I waited for her to continue, but she didn't, looking at me intently. "What's curious?"

"Snape's patronus." I stiffened a bit, remembering that she had been the one to receive it at the three broomsticks. "Don't worry. I didn't tell anyone."

There was a long pause. I had forgotten how to speak, how to behave.

"I like your hair, by the way," Luna said.

The door opened at the end of the room, and Poppy stepped out. "Miss Lovegood."

"Hello Madam Pomfrey," Luna said. "I think I'm pregnant."

Poppy's eyebrows lifted. "Well. Let me have a look."

I sat there numbly, staring at Remus's blankets while Poppy cast the charm to check. Luna's suspicions were correct. "Three weeks. Any nausea?"

"No," Luna said, seemingly unfazed, or perhaps immersed in her own gentle version of shock.

Poppy nodded, and retreated into her office to write the Ministry. The wind picked up outside, rushing, humming. Luna turned her face upward towards the window, looking out at the moon.

"Do you notice it's bigger than usual?" she asked me.

I looked as well. I'd noticed it, but not enough to pay it mind.

"It's because it's the closest in its orbit to the earth."

I was silent, and Luna stood up with a quiet sigh.

"You're still in love with him, aren't you?"

The wind moaned softly against the thin panes.

Luna lingered for a moment, and then left the room.

Pouncer returned at midnight.

I'd tried to go to sleep at ten o'clock, but had lain awake staring at the stone ceiling instead. Eventually I'd given up, and returned to sitting in the chair by Remus's bed.

Pouncer came in quietly, eyes bright and alive. He must have caught a mouse or two for himself. I stood and filled a small bowl with water for him. He lapped from it quietly, and then jumped up to sit near Remus's feet. I scratched lightly behind his ears, and he gave a soft meow.

His long yellow fur was so soft, and as I stroked his back I felt a change inside of myself. Tears welled in my eyes and fell, one by one, rolling down my cheeks. So much pain. My heart trembled.

Intelligent green eyes looking into mine, Pouncer meowed again. The sound was sharper this time, more meaningful. Suddenly, I understood. A moment of suspension occurred in my body. Then more tears fell.

I turned and looked.

His eyes were open, weakly fixed on mine.

I was unable to speak. I felt the stillness in my body, the tears on my face, their salt in my mouth as my lips parted.

His eyes closed again, and stayed closed for so long that I thought he'd gone back to sleep. Then he opened them once more. He'd only taken a long blink, to make sure I was real. There was a depth of darkness in his eyes, softened by exhaustion and vulnerability. More tears rolled down my face as his pain crushed my body. I needed to call Poppy, to have her bring him something, to help him in some way, but I had forgotten how to use my voice. All I could do was stare.

My body leaned closer to his as more tears sprang from my eyes. "You're here," I whispered, my hand trembling as it rested on the blankets over his chest.

He blinked again, still slowly, lacking the strength to do anything more. But that small movement of his eyelids contained volumes of meaning.

An avalanche was set off in my soul.

First a tiny hiss of snow, of the coldness which had covered me for so long. Then a swift build to something uncontrollable, something terrifying. A flood of freezing whiteness that shook the mountains of my heart and consumed the black trees and boulders, making the landscape unrecognisable. The chaos never truly settled, a pale mist lingering in the shocked air, vibrating.

I bent over and embraced him, my head resting on his shoulder as my body shook with sobs. It was as though not a day had gone by since I'd seen him last. All of my emotions flooded back and I helplessly held onto his shoulders, unable to control myself any longer. My eyes ached with crying, and my nose ran freely. I desperately wished for him to wrap an arm around me. However weak, however thin. But his arms remained at his sides, strengthless.

I fought against my sobs and pushed myself up on my hands, looking down at him. His eyes were full of tears and his breath came out with a wavering sound, barely there–an attempt at speech.

"It's okay," I whispered, through soft sniffling gasps.

I held his hand tightly as I turned towards Poppy's closed door and called her name. She emerged moments later, her face drawn in shock as she saw the cause of my urgent shout. Hurrying like a pale shadow in her nightdress, she retrieved a vial of potion from a cupboard and came to Remus's side.

"This, Remus," she said, uncorking it. "At once." I recognised it as Invigoration Draught, bright orange and bitter. "Up you come," Poppy said, wrapping her arm around his back and lifting him up just enough. I held his head, supporting it, my shoulder pressed softly against his cheek.

He managed to swallow, with a feeble cough.

Once his head was resting on the pillow again, I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding.

"I will wake Minerva," Poppy said, hastening from the room.

Pouncer meowed from where he'd curled up beside the two bumps of Remus's feet. I rubbed the tears from my face as I looked down at the kneazle. He must have sensed it, somehow, that Remus would wake up. He'd come back just a minute before it happened.

Remus was still looking at me, his eyes so deep they terrified me. My mind was weak from sleeplessness, from tears and tension and relief. I touched his hand again, my thumb caressing his skin. Then I registered the implications of the movement and stopped, my heart thudding.

"Do you want some water?" I said.

He stared at me for a moment longer before blinking slowly, which I took to mean yes.

To have him drink from a glass wasn't feasible. I wouldn't be able to lift him without Poppy's strength. I picked up my wand from the bedside table, hovering over him. "Is it alright? Just a little at a time?"

He blinked again, another yes, and I sat down on the side of the bed. His eyelids flickered when I touched his cheek, and I let the tip of my wand rest in the corner of his mouth.

"One…" I warned, "two, three." I cast a quiet Aguamenti, and a thin stream of water poured from my wand. I stopped it after two seconds and watched as he closed his eyes tightly, swallowing. He coughed a little, and a subtle tremor rippled through his body before he opened his eyes again. I saw the relief in them, and knew he wanted more.

Four more times I gave him enough to swallow comfortably, and then he shut his eyes to indicate enough.

It hit me, as I set mine down, that Remus had no wand. They must have taken it from him. A surge of anger threatened to boil in my belly, but petered out before it could be fully felt. He needed tending, not my distress.

Footsteps sounded down the corridor, and promptly Poppy entered with Minerva at her side, the flame of her candle flickering wildly, illuminating her harrowed face.

"Oh, Remus–" she said, and came to the bedside, touching his grey hair, tears filling her eyes.

"I gave him some water," I said to Poppy.

"That's good, but he needs more."

She went into her office and emerged a minute later with a bowl of warm broth. Rain had started outside, quiet and cold. My arms shook as I helped Poppy to lift him up again, and Minerva took my place as they adjusted the pillows and helped him lean back against them.

"Would you like to?" Poppy said, nodding to the bowl. I held it and stirred it with the spoon, a warm steam rising. With pursed lips I gently blew on the first spoonful, cooling it a little. Then I offered it to Remus, waiting for his blink before touching the spoon to his bottom lip. A drop rolled onto his chin, and Poppy dabbed at it with a conjured serviette.

Tears rolled down his cheeks as I gave him another warm spoonful. The broth must have been warm and comforting, and I was sure he'd had nothing like it in months.

A horrible thought went through my head, then. Had he been forced, like the other captives, to survive on human flesh?

Forcefully I suppressed a shiver and averted my eyes from his as I blew on the next spoonful.

There was quiet in the hospital wing, Poppy and Minerva standing by, all of us trying to process that he really was awake, really was here. The darkness of his experience in his time away was evident in everything about him. The way he breathed. The unspeakable trauma in his eyes, like a poorly buried body: a bloodless hand here, an ashen foot there, a pale lock of dirty hair.

I kept going until the bowl was empty. Remus's hands were limp and still on top of the bedcovers. He looked spent by the mere act of sitting up.

"Let's help you back down," Poppy said. I had to avert my eyes, full of tears, as she and Minerva helped him to lie down again. Watching him forced to surrender so much control was as painful as if it had been me in that bed, weak and helpless. I looked back after I heard the blankets being pulled up to his shoulders. Remus had closed his eyes.

Minerva and Poppy exchanged looks, and my hands found one another in my lap, holding tightly.

"Remus," Minerva said, after a pause. His eyes opened again and settled on her, a certain blankness in them.

"Did you ever overhear… a plan, between Greyback and his accomplice."

Silence, as Remus stared at her. I could see the war going on behind his eyes, and my stomach clenched bitterly.

"Greyback is no longer a threat to you," Minerva continued. "But his accomplice is in the Forbidden Forest now, with a number of captives. Those who… have already been turned. Do you know if there's…" He closed his eyes and Minerva waited a moment before finally completing her question. "What they plan to do, on the full moon?"

Eyes still closed, Remus turned his head slightly to the side. No.

I wished Minerva would leave him be for tonight, but she pressed on with gentle conviction. "Tomorrow we will need to take your memories, so the Ministry can see you're innocent." Her words left no question of whose side she was on. "But for tonight… you should continue to rest." Remus was still, and Minerva stood up. "I'll return in the morning," she said to Poppy. Then she cast me a gentle look and went into the corridor.

Poppy took the empty bowl of broth away, and returned with a vial of dreamless sleep, which she set on the bedside table. "For him. Do you need anything from me?"

I shook my head.

"Try not to sit up all night."

I looked at Remus as she went back inside her office, closing the door behind her.

Pouncer silently walked up the bed to curl up at Remus's side, his paws making small craters in the blankets. Remus's eyes opened again as he felt the soft vibrations of the kneazle's purr.

"He loves you," I said.

Remus looked down at Pouncer, then up at me again. I saw the multitude of questions crowding his eyes, like raindrops in a storm. As many as I had for him.

There was a soft roll of distant thunder outside, under the sound of the rainfall.

Remus flinched at the rumble, his eyes flickering to the corner of the room, the shadows there.

"You're safe," I said. "Greyback is dead."

His eyes flickered back to mine, and he shivered a little. One unspoken question stood out among the others.

"I did it."

It wasn't difficult to admit, but it was difficult to see the shock in his eyes that followed.

"Teddy is safe," I said, staring at Pouncer's curled tail. "He's with Fleur, in Belgium. Fleur had a little girl in September."

I stopped myself. He was watching me silently. The fact that I'd said nothing about the changes in my own life had not escaped him.

My hands twisted in my lap. "Severus has brewed a cauldron of Wolfsbane. So you'll be safe on Thursday night."

Remus closed his eyes. Tears crept from their corners and I hesitantly brushed them away with my thumbs. Unable to bear the sight of his trembling face, I leaned down and held him, my cheek against his shoulder.

"It's okay," I whispered. "You'll be okay."

A weak whimper of heartbreak splintered in his throat, and the sound made me choke up.

"What did they do to you?" I breathed, as tears finally spilled from my eyes again.

His silence was suffocating, like a large hot hand wrapped around my throat, keeping me from breathing properly. I waited for some word from him, but it didn't come, and I lay there sobbing on top of him. The unstoppable flood of emotion made me feel selfish. I should have been attentive to him, but lacked the strength to push myself up.

I just sobbed there for a long minute, until I became aware of his slightly wheezing breath. I forced myself to rise, afraid I was making it hard for him to breathe. I looked at him through the prisms of my tears, stabbed by the pain and guilt in his eyes.

To my shame, I wished that he would close them again.

"Do you want to sleep?" I said, my voice quiet from crying.

Fear filled his face.

My hand went to his hand and squeezed it. "I'll be right here. I'll take care of you."

Pouncer meowed softly.

Remus's eyes moved between mine, seeming to see my hidden need. Surrendering, he blinked yes, and I uncorked the vial of purple potion.

He parted his lips, and I rested my hand on his cheek as I slowly tipped the vial into his mouth. He watched me as he swallowed, and I looked into his eyes, stroking his hand as his eyelids grew heavy and he fell asleep.

I lasted mere moments before collapsing into silent sobs that strangled my heart. My hands, which had been steady, now shook as though I'd barely survived a blizzard. Pouncer purred, and I folded in half, burying my face in his fur.

I woke up sitting on the edge of the chair with my cheek pressed into the mattress. My spine ached, and so did my neck. Grey light billowed through the frosty windows and filled the room like fog. A ruffling sound, the sound which I now realised had made me stir, repeated itself, and I turned my head to see a tan-feathered Ministry owl perched on the end of the next bed.

It chirped, eyes amber and staring. For a moment my scorn for the Ministry carried over to my opinion of the owl, and I glared at it. Then I remembered it was only a bird, and made myself soften. "How'd you get in here?"

I stroked its feathers respectfully as I untied the letter from its leg. With a soft hoot it took off, flapping through the archway of the hospital wing and off to whatever open window it had entered through.

The letter weighed a stone in my hands. My legal name was written across the front of the envelope. I knew what it contained. I turned the envelope over and broke the Ministry seal, unfolding the parchment and scanning it.

Indeed, there was no mercy.

I read what I needed to and no further, folding the parchment again and replacing it in the envelope.

"Wilma."

With a soft gasp I turned to see Remus, awake. I slipped the letter into the pocket of my shawl and pressed my hand into the blankets, my heart pounding. His voice was weak, just above a whisper. But it was real. From inside of him.

"I'm here," I said.

He seemed unsure, unable to believe in his surroundings. I watched his eyes fill with tears as he swallowed and gathered enough breath for another word.

"Alive?"

My soul ached. "Yes," I answered.

His eyes closed for a long time, then opened again. I stared into their blueness, trying to decipher it. There was a distance in them, a detachment.

"Your hair. I thought… you were…"

He couldn't continue, but his meaning was clear. Your hair is white. I thought… you were an angel.

I wanted to reach out and touch him. But the letter burning a hole through my pocket and into my side forbid me to do so. I shivered, hating my heart.

"Are you cold at all?" I said, my voice awfully frigid.

Remus nodded.

I took another blanket from one of the beds and held it under my arm while I petted Pouncer awake. He meowed and stretched, and jumped down from the bed so I could put the extra blanket on. I pulled it up to Remus's chest. "Want your arms free?"

"Please."

Lifting the blanket, I carefully took the weight of his left arm. I moved it slowly, but he still winced as his elbow bent. "Sorry," I whispered.

He hummed quietly through the pain, and I went more slowly with his other arm. I smoothed his long pale fingers against the blanket and sat down again, my chest cramping with heartache. I needed him to stop looking at me. If he didn't, I would implode.

"Thank you," he whispered.

A door opened at the end of the room and Poppy stepped through, saving me. "Good morning," she said, her voice hoarse from poor sleep.

Remus inhaled cautiously, as though wary of the air. "Morning."

Poppy nodded with approval. "Good. Don't overuse it." She brought a pitcher of water and a bowl from a cupboard and set them on the bedside table. "I'll give you a wash, Remus, and have you try to eat something. Wilma, bring his first dose please."

I nodded and stood from the chair, my body creaky from the odd position in which I'd slept. The thought of confronting Severus intimidated me, but there would be no better time to inform him about the letter. I felt its weight in my pocket as I walked away, extremely aware of Remus's eyes following me for as long as they could.

Knees unsteady, dissociated from my body, I went downstairs into the entrance hall. Breakfast was very quiet today, even the wolves curled up gloomily by the fireplace. Neville and Luna were sitting quite close together. Clearly she had told him the news. He looked somehow more responsible, somehow older. He would make a good father.

Arthur, George and Ginny were watching the Marauder's Map, and Ginny glanced up, sensing my presence. Excusing herself from her father and brother, she came to the doorway to speak with me.

"We heard from McGonagall that he woke in the night."

"He's awake," I said.

Ginny nodded, her eyes full of concern. "How are you?"

Her empathy was too strong, and I had no stable answer. My voice came out of me weakly. "I have to… his Wolfsbane."

I walked away, wrapping my shawl more tightly around myself as I stepped through the dark dungeon doorway and descended.

Controlling my breathing, I walked down the narrow hallway that led to Severus's office. My footsteps slowed as I approached, at first from fear and then from the sound of voices behind the door. Severus's voice, low and bitter. Then Minerva's, brisk and sharp. "–mistake you made last time."

The door opened unexpectedly and I froze as Minerva stepped through. "Miss Weasley."

"He's awake again," I said to her, at all costs avoiding looking at Severus's face, which loomed black-framed behind her shoulder.

"Oh–" Minerva exclaimed, and she hurried down the hallway, leaving us in a very dark silence.

I forced my eyes upward, analysing Severus's black gaze. It surrendered nothing, the heavy wall of an ancient fortress.

His voice sliced through the air. "You must be thrilled."

I held my breath, my body numbing itself deliberately to keep from feeling the ocean of agony roiling underneath. I wanted to confess, to plead, to say I hadn't asked for any of this, to say I was lost, to beg for his help. But I clenched my jaw instead. If he was going to be cold, I would be cold as well.

"I need his first dose."

His eyes were knives, dissecting my face. I lacked his ability to surrender nothing, and knew all of my tornness was plainly visible. But whatever he had hoped to find in the wreckage of my expression, he clearly failed. He turned away and I stayed outside the door, watching his stiff back as he dipped a goblet into the cauldron on the table. I couldn't believe that our argument had taken place only yesterday. The space between us was as cold as if an age had passed.

Holding the goblet with both hands, he carried it to me and handed it over. I held it against my chest carefully and reached into my pocket with my other hand. Wordlessly I held out the letter, and he took it. I didn't linger to absorb the look on his face.

The bitter smoke rose from the goblet and clouded my senses as I climbed the stairs to the hospital wing.

Poppy was helping Remus to finish another bowl of broth when I came in, Minerva seated in a second chair nearby. I'd hoped that the sight of the goblet and the familiar smoke might be a comfort to Remus, after months of transforming without the potion and the assurance of safety it provided. But the widening of his eyes seemed anxious rather than relieved.

"A little at a time," Poppy said, her certainty calming. "Set it down and then we'll lift him," she instructed me. Remus rested his chin over my shoulder as I helped Poppy and Minerva to pull him up to sitting, and to manoeuvre him back against the pillows.

Poppy was the one to hold the goblet, as her hands were much steadier than mine. Remus tried to hide his trembling.

"If you need to pause, say so," Poppy said. "Mustn't waste a drop. Ready?"

He gave a frail nod, and I gave in and held his hand as Poppy carefully pressed the brass rim against his lip.

Bit by bit, he managed to take the whole thing. At last the goblet sat empty on the bedside table, and his face was twisted in a grimace of weak disgust, his body shaking a bit with each breath. Poppy offered him water but he closed his eyes and turned his head away, clearly focusing all of his energies on keeping the bitter potion down.

"Remus," Minerva said, once he had recovered enough to open his eyes again. He looked at her, appearing to know what was to come. His entire body grew tense and guarded, his eyes glinting with defensiveness. Minerva clasped her hands in front of her and persevered. "If I may… Your memories…"

He cast me a pleading gaze, his eyes hooking into mine like anchors, as though I might put a stop to it. But there was nothing I could do. He swallowed with difficulty and then looked back at Minerva, his eyes brimming with tears. "Alright."

My heart hurt as Minerva held a vial full of water between her fingers, and pressed the tip of her wand to Remus's temple. He shut his eyes, and I held my breath as Minerva pulled a long strand of memory from his mind, a blue so bright it stung.

When it was over Remus exhaled, tears rolling down his drained face. I squeezed his hand. Minerva made the copy for the Ministry, and then placed the tip of her wand against his temple again. But he tilted his head away.

His eyes stared into mine, and I felt his thoughts flowing into me like water into water. I understood.

He wanted me to see.

A rush of lightheadedness forced me to look down into my lap. Godric. I cannot do this again…

What little strength Remus had he channelled into his fingers, which pressed mine softly. I looked up, and saw the raw need in his soul. There was fear in his eyes, but within it resided a desperate hunger.

I held back my tears, feeling my hand slowly sharing its warmth with his. He had gone through Hell. And if he needed to share the burden with me… I would take it on.

My voice shook. "I will."

Minerva seemed to understand, her breath suspended in a moment of combined wonder and dread. "Poppy… Another vial, if you would."

I watched Remus's eyes, half hoping for him to change his mind. Minerva let the long blue memory curl into the second vial like a living thread. She pressed the cork in and handed it over with the utmost care.

Trusting that his consent was final, I looked away from Remus and abandoned his touch.

"The Pensieve in my office, Miss Weasley," Minerva said.

But of course I already knew where to go.

I carried the vial in my hand, the glass key-cold against my throbbing palm. My heart palpitating as I faced the gryphon, and the pearly surface of the pensieve. Afraid to see the dark things that dwelt behind Remus's broken eyes.

NOTE

Wilma reads from 'The Princess' by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

Next chapter will be difficult, please do read the content warnings.

Thank you as always for reading. I deeply appreciate reviews.