Mischief Managed Year One: Mayhem of the Moon

Chapter Nine- The Ups and Downs of Day One

He saw a blurry figure through the large panels of glass and turned to leave before he was caught standing there like an idiot. However, he wasn't fast enough. Even though the witch wasn't near the doors they flew open with a flick of her wand, revealing a large open wing with a dozen standard hospital beds with flimsy curtains able to give a little privacy when necessary. Remus paled, surely this wasn't where he would recover every month, it wouldn't take long at all for him to be found out this way.

"Well don't just stand there dear, come in," came a brisk but kind voice.

His attention shifted from the problematic layout of the ward to the matron who ran it. She was a middle-aged witch with strawberry blond hair pulled back tightly in a bun. She sported the similar air that Professor McGonagall had, in that she didn't seem like one who would tolerate any foolishness. Her eyes were pale blue and her gentle but serious expression softened some.

"So many homesick children this year. Come in darling, there's no need to be ashamed."

She gave him a warm smile that made her look even younger and much less intimidating. He walked slowly into the hospital wing, unsure if he was upset or relieved Madam Pomfrey didn't know who he was.

"Well hurry up, don't dawdle, I haven't all day." She still sounded gentle as she gestured him forward, smoothing her typical healer's robes and producing a chocolate bar in her hand.

"I imagine a talk and this will do you some good. There's no need to be so shy, dear."

He was within arms reach of her now and her sky blue eyes were assessing him for any injuries with more attentiveness than he had ever got at St. Mungos. But he was sure that would change once she realized who he was. For now, he was just glad she had agreed to keep a monster alive and keep his secret. That was far more than he had expected to receive from a healer and more than enough for him. Still, he was dreading the change in her gaze that would happen once she knew what he was.

"M...Madam, um..."

He didn't get all the words out though, as she was already ushering him to a little stool in the back of the ward and handing him a little packet of tissues and the chocolate bar.

"Now then, what house are you in, dear? Are you experiencing any headaches or stomach aches?"

He shook his head mutely, forgetting she had asked him a question. There was a long pause before he remembered he'd actually have to speak.

"Gryffindor."

"Well, missing home doesn't make you any less brave. In fact, coming here makes you a good deal smarter than the other boys in your year." She sounded exasperated and he fiddled with his chocolate bar so he didn't have to look at her.

"Make no mistake, there are likely a lot more students feeling down, except their pride prevents them from coming in for a soothing tonic. Would you like one, dear?"

He shook his head and dared to glance at her. She seemed puzzled now and a good deal more concerned.

"Now mind you, I won't tell anyone you've been here. Are you familiar with tonics? Are you Muggle-born, dear?"

He wished she would ask one question at a time so he didn't have to speak.

"Yes, ma'am, and no ma'am."

"Well, aren't you the polite one," she sounded quite pleased but also concerned.

"If you don't want a tonic, what are you here for, dear?"

He looked away, not wanting to see the distrust and anger that would cloud her eyes when she realized.

"I'm...you...Dumbledore told me to come..." he finished lamely, his hoarse whisper sounding too close to tears to his liking. He clenched his fist on the pack of tissues, determined not to need them, at least not in front of her. He hated crying in front of people, especially in front of healers who didn't really care.