Harry Potter One Shots

Getting There

Remus Lupin sat with his head in his hands and his heart in his throat. His thoughts were in knots and his mouth was dry and begging him to scream, to cry, to sob, to wake the whole damned castle. The midnight air brushed against his tear-stained cheeks and whipped tendrils of wispy golden hair into his mouth and eyes, but he didn't notice. He heaved a broken sob and resisted once again the urge to scream and yell and hit something. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed it all away. Let me go, he told it, leave me. But it would not listen.

There was hair in his mouth, and hair sticking to his wet cheeks, but he didn't notice, and instead gulped back another crash of feeling; it made him choke and splutter and his chest rattled and shook. Please, he begged it, please no more. But it still would not listen. He felt like he was drowning, spiralling down and out of control; everything, anything he needed just out of reach.

He was falling, but not like the calm kind of falling, not like falling asleep kind of falling. This was real falling, this was a sudden kind of falling, this wasn't slow or gentle, the concrete ground in sight. All the fears, the loathing, the nerves, the chaos; all of it. And it was falling on him, falling with him, pushing him under and under and under until he could no longer breathe. The moonlight ebbed away, replaced by stains of darkness that fogged and clouded and enclosed him. He was falling, falling away. He couldn't see, and he was falling. There was a ringing in his ears, the high-pitched ringing of a whistle or one of those old kettles his grandma used to have that you boiled on the stove until it screamed. And he was falling, and his hands were slipping, and he was slipping, and he couldn't see the bottom. And he was falling, falling down.

Remus Lupin woke to the sound of bare feet padding on stone. "Remus?" He heard someone ask softly. They were gentle and concerned and familiar. They were warm and affectionate and scared. His throat ached, and he felt dreadful. His eyes, he knew, would be red and puffy, and his skin would be pale and sickly. He dizzily sat up and leaned on the cool stone wall for balance. He ran a hand through his hair. His skin felt like ice. His head was pounding and thudding and raw.

A warm hand touched his cheek softly and the voice that accompanied it was lovely and just as warm, "Oh Remus..." she muttered, "You look like death, let's get you under some blankets." She huffed out minty breath and shifted his weak body against her small frame. "Come on, you idiot," she mumbled, and dragged him away from the Astronomy Tower.

"I bet you spent the whole night out there, didn't you?" she sighed. He squeezed his eyes shut as they stumbled through empty corridors. It was early, maybe about five or so and no one was around to witness their slow march through honey. He was uncomfortable and weary and frankly didn't remember half of how they got there by the time they arrived. But he was soon bundled into his familiar blankets and pillows, warmth enveloping him, but not doing much for the shaking.

Lily Evans shook her head at him and sighed. She reached into the pocket of her robes, rustling and muttering and biting her lip, she produced a small bar of chocolate. Handing it to him, she advised, "Eat up, you'll feel better when you do."

He complied slowly and relished the taste of the melting chocolate on his tongue. Slowly, warmth returned. He managed a weak smile and she beamed back at him, her freckled cheeks still glowing pink from dragging him all the way here.

"Thank you," he croaked, embarrassment creeping its way onto his face. She shushed him, shoving more of the chocolate under his nose.

"Honestly, Remus, you need to eat. Go on, you'll feel much better by the time you've finished it." If he had the energy to roll his eyes, he would have, but he settled for simply doing as she told and finishing off the whole bar. It was slow work, but he began to feel more alive.

She produced another bar from somewhere in James' desk and plonked it on Remus' bedside. "Here," she said, "You'll probably need this later." And before he got out his full thanks once more she had laughed and patted his knee. "Nonsense, darling."

Lily danced out of the room with a smile on her face and a promise to send Sirius up to see him. Remus Lupin felt much better, not good, certainly not great, but better, he was close to good, almost there, getting there, he was getting there.