Remus had not slept in days.
On Sunday, while at dinner, the Marauders were suspicious of the absence of their female friends. They finished the meal feeling a bit off, a bit like something was wrong.
When they returned to Gryffindor Tower, the girls were nowhere to be found. Not in the common room, not in their dorm, not in any corridors, not at dinner. Remus could not shake the off putting feeling.
Around seven, while sat playing wizards chess with Peter, Remus's mind was elsewhere, feeling off. Then they were interrupted by a knock at the door, by Professor McGonagall, who informed the boys that they needed to go to the infirmary at once. Something was wrong.
When Remus entered the quiet white room, as he had done so many times, he felt off. Typically he was on the other end of these types of visits.
When Remus turned the corner and found Alice, Marlene, and Lily, sitting in uncomfortable chairs, all with puffy eyes and shaking hands, he felt off. He had never seen all three of them so out of sorts.
When Remus followed their gazes to the bed, the stiff bed, the bed he himself had occupied all too often, he did not feel off.
He felt as though someone had thrown him from a cliff. He felt as though he was falling, endlessly, with no hope of surviving. He felt as though he couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He felt as though his head hurt.
He sat by Sydney's bedside on Sunday night, with her hand in his, and his headache kept him awake.
Remus had not been permitted to miss his classes. No matter how much he fought, Dumbledore had told him that Sydney was in proper care, and Remus should not let his education fall subject to failure.
Dumbledore, Remus thought, was full of shit.
Remus attended his classes, but he did not complete his work. This was in part because he was too distracted to care about the Great War or useless knowledge about centaurs. This was also because he was outraged with Dumbledore for forcing him to sit through lessons knowing that had Sydney actually been in 'proper care' she wouldn't have been in that blood soaked gown in the first place.
He sat by Sydney's bedside on Monday night, with her hand in his, and his anger kept him awake.
By Tuesday, it had become a habit to have meals in the hospital wing.
Remus had convinced Madam Pomfrey to permit their large group to spend the nights, so long as they were quiet and promised not to let it affect their sleep schedules.
So each morning someone, usually Peter, would go down to the Great Hall and return with an assortment of foods and drinks. Then for lunch, they would all walk down together, and stay for the entire block. Then, aside from James who was forced to continue with quidditch practices, the six mates would go straight to the infirmary after classes and stay through dinner and then repeat the process.
The meals were relatively quiet, no one felt there was much that was important, aside from Alice. Sometimes, Alice would switch places with Lily and comb Syd's hair and talk to her, she felt it would help. She would talk about the food that day, and how much Syd would have hated it. She would talk about the house elf who sent a food basket. She would talk about the classes Syd was missing. She would talk a lot.
She also opened a window. Remus found it strange, but slightly comforting.
By Tuesday, Remus had not only given up on school, but he had also given up on food. He would take a muffin from Peter each morning, to keep them from asking questions, and then discard it in the bin. He was too stressed to remember. Too angry to comply. Too tired to care.
He sat by Sydney's bedside on Tuesday night, with her hand in his, and his hunger kept him awake.
Remus knew he had a habit of blaming himself for things that were not his fault. He had done it when Sirius asked Sydney out first. He had done it when he said no to Hogsmeade, instead of giving an explanation. He had done it when he scratched James the night of the moon.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, mate," James often said. And maybe he was right.
But this time, Remus could not feel anything other than completely responsible.
He had been there for the entire conversation between Sydney and Theo that day in the Great Hall. He had heard her admit to hearing voices, voices that were now missing. He had heard her say that her transformation pain had mysteriously stopped. He had heard her brother, once the only person she trusted, tell her that their mother may be alive.
And he was stupid enough to believe that she, of all people, wouldn't want to know why. She always wanted to know why.
He sat by Sydney's bedside on Wednesday night, with her hand in his, and the guilt kept him awake.
On Thursday morning, Madam Pomfrey received news that James, Lily, and Sirius had all fallen asleep in Astronomy, Peter, Alice and Marlene had missed their History of Magic class, and Remus was close to dropping from top marks to near failure.
She woke the rest of the group up with some tea and orders to return to their dormitories for the remaining nights.
Of course, no one was ready to respect this news, and there was a loud jumble of outcries and arguments. But the decision was final, Pomfrey had said, as requested by Dumbledore.
When Pomfrey left, Remus told his friends that Dumbledore was full of shit.
Around 9:50 that night, the nurse returned.
"Almost curfew," she reminded. And they argued for several minutes before McGonagall came down, with a very severe looking face, and threatened to deduct 20 points each if they were not in Gryffindor Tower within the minute.
The professor promised they could return in time for breakfast, but that wasn't good enough.
As the rest of his friends departed, Remus stayed behind with Pomfrey.
He knew she had a soft spot for him, that his condition had weakened her. He knew she would let him stay if he pushed the right buttons.
So he pushed them. And it worked.
But, although few words were often shared after the lads had finished their dinner, Remus found it to be crushingly quiet to be alone.
Well, not alone, but still.
He sat by Sydney's bedside on Thursday night, her hand in his, and the silence kept him awake.
Friday morning, Remus was greeted by Dumbledore.
The headmaster arrived around five, only an hour before his friends would have been permitted to return.
He floated in, silky robes, half-moon glasses, long beard, calm smile. Remus clenched his teeth.
"Good morning, Remus," he said. "May I sit?" Remus did not move.
"I have been in touch with a few of your professors regarding your schoolwork," Remus did not react.
"I understand that this has come as a terrible burden," the wizard said, flickering his eyes over to the girl in the stiff white bed. Remus did not want him to look at her.
"We all have burdens we must bear, I'm afraid. And the deal you have been dealt is far less than fair," his eyes frowned in pity. Remus did not scoff or say something sarcastic.
"I am terribly sorry," Dumbledore continued after a moment of silence. "However, I'm afraid I'll have to begin taking extra measures to be sure that you complete your work. Including mandatory detentions, and possibly closing off the hospital wing until your grades improve," Remus frowned.
"You would do that?"
"I promise it's for your own good, Remus."
Remus looked over the girl beside him. Her long brown hair having been combed by Alice, Remus's sweatshirt pulled on over her head to get her out of her hospital gown, closing cuts across her face, and still with a very wrong looking frown.
"Okay," he said to Dumbledore. He couldn't leave her.
He sat by Sydney's bedside on Friday night, with her hand in his, and his overdue assignments kept him awake.
On Saturday, the group of friends was relieved to have a day off, with only one concern.
The teens sprawled out amongst the room, in seats that had become habit.
Remus, of course, was sitting beside Syd, with her hand in his. Lily sat on the other side, removing the blue varnish from Sydney's nails and replacing it with a light shade of purple. James was next to her, fiddling with the snitch he had caught in his match against Ravenclaw the night prior. Sirius was at the edge of the bed, wearing Sydney's headphones and listening to one of the cassettes she had put together for him, no doubt on full volume. Marlene, Alice and Peter were sitting along the wall, in that order. Marlene was carelessly lighting and blowing out a match, Alice was sucking on a piece of butterscotch, and Peter was flipping through a photo album.
They spoke a little bit, in spurts. Something here about the upcoming History of Magic essay. Something there about James's match, which only Lily and Sirius attended. Remus wasn't really listening, until Marlene asked Peter why he was smiling.
"This picture," Peter replied, "It's from the food fight during the welcome feast."
Peter shifted in his chair to show Marlene and Alice who also smiled.
"Who took that?" Asked Lily as the book was passed to her and James.
"Creevey," Sirius answered, slipping the headphones down to rest around his neck and looking at the picture. "That muggle-born who carries his camera around everywhere."
Finally, the handmade book made its way to Remus. He received it with his free hand and for the first time all week he felt a small smile spread through his lips.
Creevey had photographed the moment where Syd had backed Remus into the wall with a bowl of ice cream. The pair were pictured from the side, so her playful smile and dimples were evidently clear, as was the bowl of jelly behind Remus's back. In the background was Marlene, drenching Alice in pumpkin juice, as well as Sirius and Peter mid-throw with James as their target.
Remus flipped the pages to find many more moments captured. Lily and Alice posing beside a sleeping Marlene, the four girls by the lake with cucumbers laying on their eyes, Peter and Syd crowd surfing, a laughing James and a terrified looking Sydney on their brooms, Sirius carrying Syd away at Hogsmeade, her head thrown back in that familiarly lit up sort of way.
But then Remus turned to one page that made his heart catch in his throat. On one side was a photo of the two of them in the Astronomy tower. They were sitting together on a blanket and Sydney was holding a grape in one hand and pointing to Remus's socks with the other. Her back was to the camera, no doubt held by James, but Remus knew she had the brightest smile he had ever seen plastered across her face.
On the other side, there was a photo of the two of them asleep from the morning after the full moon. Normally, Remus hated seeing pictures of himself following the full moon. He would have grimaced at the sling on his left arm, the way he looked entirely skinny, the fresh scratches across his chest. However, Sydney's hand was resting by one particularly long gash, and he remembered her light touch, tracing circles and stars around his cuts, and he smiled because usually the nights of the full moon were restless and unbearable. And because goddamnit, she smiled in her sleep too.
He looked back to the brown haired girl in the stiff white bed.
"That frown looks rather wrong on her, doesn't it?" He said.
"I was thinking the same thing," his friends chorused.
That night, Pomfrey had allowed the lot of them to remain in the hospital wing, being that it was a weekend. As was habit, the six others found an unoccupied bed and crawled into it, but Remus stayed in his uncomfortably hard chair, holding her hand.
As their conversations faded into the night, his friends dipped off to sleep one by one leaving Remus alone in the dark.
Well, not alone. But still.
He thought about the photos. Sydney was represented perfectly in each. Her mischievous side on the first night, her goofy side with the cucumbers, her carefree side with Peter, her reluctantly wild side with James, her bright and beautiful smile, always plastered on her face. He thought about the night in the astronomy tower and the morning after the full moon and he felt at peace for the first time all week.
Because that's how she was supposed to look. And that's precisely what had been so off.
Remus felt almost content, almost okay, and he rested his head on his unoccupied arm and felt his eyes close. He felt himself begin to drift off. But then he was stopped.
He sat by Sydney's bedside on Saturday night, with her hand in his, and a squeeze back kept him awake.