By evening, Remus was complaining about being stuck in bed, though Tonks was grateful for the rest and lay curled at his side. By morning, shortly after breakfast, Poppy pronounced him well enough to go home. She packed her bag, took up her suitcase packed by Severus, and offered a final instruction before leaving.
"If anything at all happens, if you feel the slightest bit unwell, then contact me immediately."
"Of course," said Remus, rising from the kitchen table.
"I mean it, Remus—anything at all."
"I promise someone will contact you," said Tonks. "And thank you so much for doing this."
"It was nothing. I'm happy to help." Poppy turned to Lin. "And I suppose Severus is indisposed?"
"I'm afraid so, Poppy. He wasn't satisfied with the potion and is currently pouring over his notes looking for a way to improve it."
"He was always a bit obsessive even as a schoolboy." Poppy moved toward the back door accompanied by Lin.
"I hope Minerva isn't suspicious about your sudden need for a short holiday," said Lin.
"A witch as clever as Minerva knows when something's afoot, but she has the good grace to keep it to herself."
A series of loud pops indicated that Poppy had disapparated. Lin turned and was enveloped in Tonks' arms again. "You don't have to keep thanking me," said Lin.
"Yes, I do. I just can't say it enough." Tonks released her friend, and her hair changed to the color and shape of green camouflage, which made Lin and Remus laugh. "Cover me, Darling," said Tonks to Remus. "I'm going in."
"Severus will be so pleased," said Remus as his wife disappeared down the cellar steps. Her departure was silent except for the slight trip-up on the last step. "You can stop holding it in now, Lin."
Tears welled up in Lin's eyes as she ran to embrace Remus. "You scared the hell out of us. It was so hard to see you like that."
"Harder than watching me heal after a change?"
"One's as bad as the other, I suppose."
"I don't know how to voice my gratitude, Lin."
"Some things don't need to be said, Remus."
~~~
Tonks saw a pool of pale light flickering under the door to Severus' study. He appeared to be pacing. She knocked and heard the familiar low-voiced silky reply of, "Enter."
"I won't take much of your time."
"Please don't."
Tonks moved toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Severus froze with his hands in the air. "Thank you, Severus. Thank you."
"Unhand me, Nymphadora!"
"Can you stop being horrible for just a few seconds?"
"No, it's in my nature." Tonks laughed, hugged him tighter, and let him go.
"I'll see you at the next full moon," said Tonks, beaming with excitement.
"I can hardly wait," replied Severus, his tone as flat as a soggy pancake.
Tonks left Severus' study as Remus entered it. Severus sighed in irritation at having yet another intrusion. "I'll pack our things, Darling," said Tonks.
"I'll be up directly," said Remus. He watched Tonks climb the stairs before walking toward Severus to whom he offered his hand. "Thank you, Severus."
"I did it because Lin requested it of me."
"Nevertheless." Remus proffered his hand again. "I won't bite you, Severus," he said with wry grin.
"Droll, Lupin," replied Severus as he took Remus' hand. The handshake was firm but short, and Remus left the room without another word.
Remus changed considerably in the coming weeks. Physically he remained the same with the exception of overall better health. He didn't have to fight the curse anymore; there was no more forced pleasantness. He wasn't exhausted and in pain anymore. He wasn't haunted anymore. He was just Remus now, and he was free to be the husband and father that he so longed to be.
Tensions ran high as the next full moon approached. Remus was bemused by all the fussing. He felt a slight increase in agitation a few days before the full moon, and immediately contacted both Poppy and Severus about it, but he insisted it was different from his usual suffering. On the morning of the full moon, Severus offered Remus a much weaker version of his original potion as a booster. Remus experienced mild nausea and slept through the night without incident. This entire process was repeated two more times before Remus was declared cured.
Both Severus and Remus prepared reports for Kingsley Shacklebolt asking for permission to make the potion available to the public. Kingsley had the good grace not to throw everyone involved into Azkaban for conducting illegal Potions experiments. Shacklebolt insisted that both Severus and Remus train the Healers and Potions-makers and St. Mungos before exposing any werewolves to a new and barely tested potion; it was a wise request to be sure. But Severus insisted that St. Mungos' Potions-making team were nothing but a gaggle of dunderheads and felt put upon that he had to train them; he did so, despite his protestations. It took weeks before Severus was satisfied that the blundering twits could brew the potion properly. In truth, they'd been trained so well that they could likely brew the insanely difficult potion in their sleep.
"In all fairness," said Remus after a particularly grueling morning that resulted in substandard potions and several potioneers being reduced to tears, "it is an exceptionally difficult potion to brew."
"It's also exceptionally volatile," replied Severus coolly. "The slightest brewing error could kill." That was not the response Remus had expected. Though Severus did deride his students' efforts, his reason for doing so was sound. Still, Remus argued that Severus' teaching methods needn't be so harsh. People learn best when they're relaxed. "Unlike you, Lupin, I have no desire to be anyone's friend. I'm here to train Team Dunderhead, not hold their hands and pat them for a job well done."
Once Team Dunderhead received passing marks, Severus offered a series of lectures to St. Mungos' resident Healers. He answered all of their questions, even the inane ones, with as much aplomb as he could muster. Remus discussed with the Healers the potion's effects from a patient's perspective; many were incredulous that he'd ever suffered at all from lycanthropy, but his records proved that he'd been infected with it in early childhood. The Healers were dumbfounded and performed numerous tests on Remus to satisfy their doubts.
Despite the evidence laid before them, many of the Healers refused to make the new potion, which now had a name – Nocte Inluni (Moonless Night) – available to the public. Having dealt with specialist Healers often as a child, Remus had expected their reticence and offered to provide them with a willing test subject, who requested that her name and private information remain secret. Remus had met his anonymous friend while campaigning for Dumbledore. Like him, she'd been infected in childhood, but by another mindless sufferer of lycanthropy and not out of revenge as poor Remus had. The healers agreed to the terms, provided the experiment remain secret and if Severus participated as a consultant. Severus agreed to assist only if his own terms were met and specifically requested the presence of Poppy Pomfrey. Many of the Healers bristled at having to take a secondary potion to a Medi-Witch, but Severus vehemently defended her.
"Madame Pomfrey has had first-hand experience with the effects of this new potion, unlike you self-important simpletons and your bevy of ham-handed Potions dunces."
The occupants of the lecture room were aghast. Some of the healers present were former students of Severus' and regarded him with both fear and loathing just as in their schooldays. The fear they had of him as schoolchildren diminished with adulthood, but his war-hero status and bravery in the presence of the most powerful dark wizard in history chilled them enough to rekindle their old fears and engender both silence and obedience in themselves and their more experienced colleagues. Severus Snape wasn't just an intimidating bully of children, he was a terrifying man.
The silence from the healers made Severus smirk. He turned to Remus, who stood quietly snickering at his side. "Was I too harsh, Lupin?"
"Not at all," said Remus, who also felt great loyalty to Poppy Pomfrey, and felt that her skill, tact, and compassion went woefully underappreciated.
The next test of Nocte Inluni commenced on the morning of the following full moon. Severus had determined that the potion's third phase wouldn't initiate until the full moon had risen. Administering the potion to the patient on the morning of the full moon would reduce the stress on the patient's body, giving him/her more strength to endure the third phase. It nagged at Severus that Lupin lay for three days in a near comatose state waiting for the third phase to occur. The fact that Lupin survived was a testament to the man's remarkable resilience.
Remus' friend had been brought to St. Mungo's late the evening before under tight security and secrecy. Remus was present for every moment of her ordeal, and held her hand as long as he could while whispering words of encouragement to her. Severus kept his distance and only communicated when he had to. He stood quietly, and somewhat ominously, with a length of parchment and his note-taking quill hovering above is head.
They were in a circular lecture hall, the center of which had been completely enclosed with magical bars that burned the skin if touched. Kingsley had ordered several of his best Aurors to observe, and to assist only if needed; they lined the room and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. The Healers and Potions-makers took up the student chairs that encircled the center of the room, each taking notes of their own. Poppy was as professional as ever and ignored the side-long glances from her superior medical colleagues.
The rise of the full moon proved Severus' deduction to be correct; administering the potion on the same day as the full moon brought the second and third phases closer together, and made the entire experience less taxing on the patient. Remus' friend reacted differently during the potion's third phase than Remus had. The muscles in her limbs spasmed so intensely that she broke bones, which had to wait for the third phase to pass before being mended. Like Remus, she survived the healing process with no permanent damage. Severus discussed the patient's condition with Poppy, then collected his things and left with no further word to anyone. Remus stayed to offer support to his friend, and to help Poppy answer questions from the Healers.
St. Mungos later released a statement that the institution had acquired a cure for lycanthropy that would be made available to anyone who needed it. The response from the afflicted was underwhelming; many feared revealing themselves, others feared the potion's potentially permanent side effects. Despite the lack of positive response from werewolves, both Remus and Severus became much wealthier men and increased their fame greatly. Both wrote academic papers that were published in internationally respected periodicals. Offers to give lectures were made by the dozen from academic institutions and Potions research facilities; Remus accepted all of them, and Severus consistently declined to make an appearance.
There was a time in Severus' life when he would've relished the attention he was currently getting. To the wizarding world, he was a war hero and a respected academic, but the reality was nothing like his boyhood fantasies. All Severus wanted now was to be left alone. Even his unsociable behavior couldn't dampen his post-war reputation among the general public, who thought of him as a reclusive, eccentric, altruist; the latter designation particularly annoyed him.
Remus didn't enjoy his new-found fame either, but he did like connecting with frightened needy werewolves. It became his vocation to enlighten the general public about the unique suffering and challenges that lyncanthropy sufferers face.