Remus struggled through the DADA classes on 11 January. He stayed sitting at his desk and used magic to instruct the chalk as it scrawled across the blackboard at the front of the class. He had felt most awful telling the kids to put away their wands and take out their textbooks - they'd all become quite accustomed to hands-on DADA by then, and certainly once one is used to such there's no going back without a good deal of complaining.
Remus tried to make it as fun as possible, having the class break into teams rather than calling on individuals and, taking a note out of Gideon and Fabian Prewett's old ways, he set them into a sort of game-show. They seemed to enjoy it as they consulted their textbooks to find answers to the questions before sending a team representative forward to deliver the answer. Remus used the time to review subjects they'd talked about in the first term, and lectured on the things that were unclear to them as they went along. All in all, he thought it a rather productive class, and he was keen to keep them protected from another round of werewolf identification classes the like of which Severus Snape had already attempted to deliver once.
"We're still on for Thursday, yeah?" Harry asked hopefully at the end of the class, standing by his desk and shoving his textbook into his bag as Hermione rushed from the room and Ron hovered by the door, waiting for him.
"We're still on, yes," Remus agreed, nodding.
Harry smiled, headed to the door, then paused and turned back. "Great class, by the way, Professor."
"Thank you, Harry."
Harry stood for a moment, seeming to want to say something more, but he struggled with what to say... Then Ron nudged him and Harry waved to Remus and turned, following Ron into the hall.
Now he was alone in his office and he kept checking his watch, knowing the full moon was just hours away. He winced with every step he took and he could feel his back tight and stiff. He'd taken the wolfsbane, too, and still felt this terrible. He could just imagine what it might've been like if he hadn't taken it. He was immensely glad that he had the potion to keep him.
As though he'd heard his thoughts - and indeed he may have done, who knows - Severus Snape burst in the door without knocking, a tray with a goblet of the potion in his hands. He looked around, as though he thought he might've caught something happening... He slinked slowly across the room, looking very batlike and creepy, and put the tray down on Remus's desk. "Good evening... Professor..." he said in a low, drawn out voice.
"Evening, Severus," Remus answered, and he walked slowly to the desk, every step painful.
Severus watched him, his eyes trailing along Remus's legs that could barely bend at the knee. "Particularly bad moon, is it?" his eyes met Remus's then, as Remus stepped up to the desk and reached for the cup. "...a bad moon rising?"
Remus held the goblet, looking at Severus, unsure what he was getting at. It wasn't like Severus to offer any level of conversation when delivering the goblets, and to quote a song lyric... Though he didn't say it in a tone that conveyed he had any idea that's what it was, as though he'd just heard the words somewhere and was repeating them.
"Yes, it is," Remus said, keeping his voice level. He lifted the goblet to his mouth and drank. "Ugh," he murmured when it had been drained, lowering the cup back to the tray and wiping his mouth with his wrist. "It's too bad making it taste good ruins the effect."
"Yours is a bitter cup indeed," Snape drawled, and he snatched up the cup and the tray quickly, staring at Remus, searching his face. He started to the door, then stopped and turned back. "I am uncertain where your loyalties lie, Lupin, but I want to make one thing astonishingly clear to you. If anything happens to Lily's son and I find that you have kept any... thing... hidden..." he looked around the room pointedly, "...then I shall not hesitate to reveal the things that I have kept hidden as well."
Remus's brows knit together. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Only that you would be mad to have gone this long only to choose the wrong side of things now," Severus answered darkly. The stepped into the corridor, his hand on the knob of the door. "Barking... mad." And the door slammed shut.
Remus stood at the desk, staring at the door, his brow raised. "As if that oversized bat couldn't be more ridiculous than he already is --" he shook his head, and took up a book from the desk and carried it up the stairs to the private quarters, his face twisting with pain as he moved up each step. In his room, he undressed and got into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin and curling to one side, the book propped against the headboard so he could read without holding it up, though he only managed to have the energy to turn the pages a couple times before he gave it up as a bad turn and stopped trying.
The pain in his back was so intense, even with wolfsbane, that he was near to tears. He clutched his fist around the pillow beneath his head and closed his eyes, his breathing shallow and shuddering. "Stop, stop, please," he muttered quietly, "I hate being a werewolf... I hate being a werewolf... why does it have to be like this...? Make it stop... please..."
"Where's it hurt, Moony?"
The voice was quiet.
"It all hurts, it all hurts," Remus whimpered.
"I'm here. It's alright. Shhh..." and there was a hand brushing back the curls on his forehead.
Remus had to hold his breath to do it, but he turned his head to look up and there was Sirius Black, sitting on the edge of the mattress beside him, leaning over him, his knuckles bent to gently run his hand across Remus's cheek.
Suddenly Snape's odd behavior made sense. Snape had never been able to read Remus's mind, but Sirius's he had been, and that must have been what Snape had been on about before.
"He knew you were here," murmured Remus.
"Who? Snivellus?" Sirius laughed.
"Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you."
Sirius smiled, "Clearly not everywhere or you would have found me, wouldn't you?"
Remus was about to persist, but a particularly nasty spasm wrecked through him and he let out a yelp and his face pinched in pain. "Oh no, no, please. Make it stop, Sirius. Make it stop."
"I will, Moony," Sirius whispered, and he brought his hands to his mouth, blowing between them, rubbing them together, and he laid his palms against Remus's shoulder blades. "Roll over," he commanded, and Remus did it, melting into the pillow face first as Sirius's hands worked at the knots in his back, the heel of his hands kneading a pattern that he had perfected over years and years of full moon nights, a familiar yet long lost sensation that Remus could only just barely remember... "It's okay, Moony..." Sirius murmured, and Remus could feel his hands running over the scars that lined his back, tracing the constellations.
The moon was risen then, and Remus could feel the change starting, could feel his skin rippling as the fur began to rise up from beneath it, his bones cracking and starting to reform themselves...
"Please don't go," Remus murmured.
"I'm not, Moony," Sirius murmured, his voice thick. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Sirius, I --" But his mouth and nose began the change, cutting him off mid-word. He turned to look at Sirius, the face of the man blurring and draining of color, then sharpening as Remus's eyes changed.
Sirius stood up and whipped his head back, his own form altering before Remus's wolfish eyes.