The Marauders: Year Seven Part Two

Doug Melachton

In the morning on February 14, Remus was awakened by Sirius to find that he had fallen asleep at his desk chair the night before, his parchment for McGonagall's class laying empty under his folded arms, the quill still dripping ink spots on the desk. He blinked blearily at the sunlight coming in through the window. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Breakfast," Sirius answered. He was buttoning his vest. "The other lads already went downstairs."

Remus put his head back down on his arm, watching Sirius finishing up with getting dressed. "I'm not hungry, really," he said, shrugging, "Why don't you go join the others and I'll just have a bit of a lie in and you can come get me after, for classes?"

Sirius hesitated. "Moony, I --" 

"I'm alright, Padfoot," Remus said, recognizing the expression in Sirius's eyes to be concern. "Really. I'm just tired, that's all. I was up all night working on this paper... and..." he glanced at the empty parchment, flushed and hoped Sirius hadn't noticed he hadn't written a thing. "And I just need to catch up on some sleep, then I'll be fine. You go have some food, I don't really fancy eating anything right now anyhow. Moon sickness, you know?"

It was clear in Remus's tone that he didn't intend to go along to breakfast, so Sirius sighed. "Alright, but be ready, ok? I'll be back in --" he pulled his pocket watch from his pocket, and Remus stared at it as Sirius held it in his palm, "-- one hour."

Remus nodded, "One hour. Got it. See you then."

Sirius lingered in the doorway as though he expected Remus to change his mind at the last minute, then ducked out and thundered down the stairs.

Remus breathed in relief. He loved Sirius. He loved James and Lily and Peter, too, but blimey did he relish the moments when he was all alone like this in the silence. He got up and went over to the bed, drew his wand out from beneath his pillow, where he kept it when he slept, and he aimed it to the window, casting a charm that blocked out the sunlight and set the room into a dark as if it were night. He sighed and sank into the mattress and blankets and closed his eyes.

It was some time later when the door creaked opened and Remus sat up blurrily. "Been an hour already?" he muttered, expecting Sirius but finding a house elf. "Oh. Hullo," he said.

The elf flapped it's ears. "Mister Lupin is being asked to accompany Jorry to the hospital wing to sees Mister Melachton."

"Who?"

"Jorry is me, Mr. Lupin."

"Yeah I gathered that," he said, "I mean Mister... what was the name?"

"Mister Melachton. Come, come Mister Lupin. He is waitsing for you."

Remus wanted to press further, but the elf was insistent, so he jotted down on his parchment a quick note to the lads that he'd catch them up and went after the house elf, following him through the castle, ducking 'round errant Cupids flapping about the corridors, shooting people with little arrows with rubber suckers for heads, singing messages like they were novelty telegrams. Advertisements had been spellotaped all over about the Valentine's tea that would be held that afternoon, in lieu of afternoon classes.

Jorry led Remus to the hospital wing and he thought they were going to see Pomfrey for some reason (was the elf mad or just daft, perhaps?), but he turned and led Remus into a small office across the hall instead. Inside, an old man whom Remus had never seen before in his life was sitting on a couch by the fireplace, warming his hands in the red-orange glow. He looked up as Jorry and Remus entered, and he smiled and thanked the elf, who clicked his fingers and disappeared with a crack.

Remus stood awkwardly, lingering by the door way.

The old man looked Remus over, "Hello Mr. Lupin... or would you prefer Remus?"