The Marauders: Year Seven Part One

Worthless

Remus Lupin awoke early in the morning, the sun barely up on the edge of the horizon. Pink-gold light filtered the dusty air and turned the inside of the shack pale, like a movie filmed in sepia tones. 

He shifted under the heft of Sirius Black, who was curled about him in dog form. Snuffles, it stood to reason, would not at all suffer from losing a bit of weight - even if the boy who became him could do with gaining a bit. The dog was hot and the fur stifled Remus, so he struggled out from beneath the bulk carefully, not wanting to wake Sirius up. His limbs and muscles were still sore from the full moon's effects, and he groaned as he got up, and his bones creaked with the effort.

Remus's bones and muscles were not the only bits suffering from the wolfish night. In addition, he had several half-moon punctures along his forearms and legs, quietly oozing blood. Wolf bites, purple bruising spreading from the epicenters and the deep red veins throbbing with potential infection. "Bloody hell," he murmured. He'd thought it had been a fairly calm night, at least it had been in his mind, but apparently he had set to gnawing on himself at some point beyond his memory. He cringed as he collected his wand from the mantel, before staggering to the kitchen.

With a flick of his wand, Remus repaired a couple of the broken chairs and sat, wincing as his knees bent and more blood trickled down his leg, a side effect of the flesh moving as he walked. "Accio medical box," he murmured, and from the counter top came the little box that the boys had put together for just such occasion as Remus's post moon injuries. He set to work at mending himself then, keen on cleaning up before Sirius woke up and would dramatically fawn over the bruises and bites. It was easier, Remus had decided long ago, to simply administer the fix himself before Sirius saw the damages.

Using a spell for a warming salve that Ned Veigler had taught him over the summer. The salve wasn't as thick and helpful as something concocted by Madam Pomfrey, of course, but it did ease the pain a bit, and Remus was glad for it. He only wished he had some aconite tea to ease the grinding of his innards as they resettled themselves into human form.

The salve reminded him of Ned Veigler's presence the night before. As Remus wound the gauze strips about his wounds, he wondered what the purpose of all the werewolves in Hogsmeade had been. Remus was only more concerned when he recalled that Ned had not been the only one accompanying the werewolves at the Hog's Head pub, but so had Mr. Scamander, Dumbledore, Professors McGonagall and Urquart, and - with a shiver of distaste he recalled - so had Frek and Garm.

What had been the purpose of the wolves being brought to Hogsmeade? Remus wondered. It had been gnawing at him (nearly as much as he had been gnawing at himself, apparently, he thought in annoyance) ever since he'd caught the scent of them. He'd desperately wanted to discuss it all with the boys and Lily, but by the time they'd gotten back to the Shrieking Shack, Sirius had become terribly self-absorbed in the obsession of his empty stomach and had become impossible to discuss anything at all with. By the time Peter had returned with the food to satiate Sirius's growling and grumbling, there wasn't enough time for speculation before Remus's transformation had begun.

Remus sighed and gagged loudly on the scent of the salve, and he dropped his wand onto the table. The smell was so awful. He felt a rush of anger well up in him. A teenage boy shouldn't have to know a spell for a salve like this, he thought. A teenage boy shouldn't be suffering in pain like this, shouldn't be aching and bleeding and — He felt a great swell of self hatred pool in his belly and he kicked the chair he was using to hold the medic kit. The chair fell backwards, the medic kit falling, bursting, and the contents flying about the kitchen. The spool of gauze hit the floor, spinning and rolling across the floor until it struck the toe of Peter's trainers as he had just stepped in the door.

"You don't need to take your crossness out on the medic kit," Peter said matter of factly, bending to pick up the spool of gauze.

"Sorry, Pete," Remus said, sighing the tension from his nerves.