Wild Amenity » Remus Lupin

6. Ink pots and chihuahuas

Monday, 16th February 1976. 1 day after the full moon.

The white light of the infirmary blinded Remus for a second when he managed to open his eyes, which weighed as if they were made out of concrete. He identified the voice of Madam Pomfrey talking in hushed whispers and James responding in an equally worried tone. At first, Remus figured it was the same discussion as every morning after the full moons: the boys wanting to stay and the healer kicking them out.

Then, he realised James' was the only other person in the room.

Everything hurt. From his toenails to the last hair in his head. No bone in his body felt entirely complete, and even breathing felt impossible to accomplish. Still, he made an effort to try to understand what they were saying.

"You need to rest, dear."

"No. I have to talk to him."

"There will be time for that. But now your wounds need to heal properly."

Remus started to panic. Wounds?

"I'm fine, really." But Remus knew James Potter. Always too worried about everyone and forgetting he was to take care of himself. Too polite to burden people with his problems, and too stubborn to admit he needed help. He had heard that tone in his voice many times, and Remus knew he was far from being fine.

From the corner of his eye, he tried to catch a glimpse of James' appearance. But his head throbbed at the slight move, and a groan left his mouth, blowing up his silent cover.

"Moony!" James turned to him, his eyes wide in both relief and concern. He gave Madam Pomfrey a pleading look, and after getting a positive answer, he made his way to his gurney. Remus didn't miss the halts in every step he took, and when James was close enough, it all began to make more sense.

He had dark bags under his eyes, and even more bruises than the average ones gotten on a normal full moon. With a faltering smile, James sat on a chair by his side, but his semblant remained crooked, as if straightening his back would lead to insufferable pain. Remus redirected his eyes to the ceiling, terrified to face what appeared to be an ugly truth.

"How are you feeling?"

"What happened?" Remus cut him off, not daring to look at him again. James remained silent, and Remus' fear increased. "Did I do that?"

"Not quite." James shifted on his seat, fiddling with his fingers. "Moony, there's no easy way to say this—"

"James," Remus said, impatiently, "just say it."

James glanced at Remus for a brief moment before speaking. "Snape cornered Sirius last night. He kept asking where did you go every month. And Sirius... he— he told him to go to the Whomping Willow. At midnight."

A static silence filled the room as the words began to sink in. Remus didn't like where that was going.

"Sirius thought he might be too scared to do it, but you know Snape. He went anyway. I got there on time, but he saw you transform."

The pieces fell in place one by one, the puzzle coming to form with a dreadful slowness that suffocated Remus until there was no more air in his lungs. For so long, he had feared his secret would be exposed to the wrong people, causing irrevocable harm to those who came too close to the wolf within him. Now, the nightmare was real, and it felt worse than he'd ever imagined.

"Did I hurt him?"

"No."

"And you?"

James didn't answer right away. Remus waited, bloodshot eyes fixed on him.