ELEVEN.
Thursday rolled around once more, meaning another after school lesson with Harry and Professor Lupin. He hadn't been seen all week, apparently having been in a seriously bad way for the past six days. Cara wasn't even sure if she was meant to turn up for the lesson.
"That man has the world's worst immune system." Stassie rolled her eyes, sipping her pumpkin juice.
"So do I go?" Cara sighed, exasperated with the whole situation.
"Go and check his office in case he left a note on the door or something?"
Cara prodded her treacle tart with her spoon, taking more interest in stabbing at it than eating it. She had been like this all week, with both Stassie and Oliver taking notice at how appalling her attention span had been recently. Cara wanted nothing more than to spill her heart out over what she heard that night, but she wasn't a good enough liar to come up with a reason she was out of bed.
"You're not eating that?" Oliver asked her gently, realising she was feeling rather fragile.
"Nah." Cara pushed it in his direction and stood up from her seat in the hall.
"Alright, well, have fun!" He called, his words echoed by Stassie as Cara left the hall.
Barging through groups of first years like a bulldozer, Cara headed towards the office she was becoming so acquainted with. Every second she spent alone with her thoughts was a constant cycle of hearing the teachers' discussion the other week. It was like someone was replaying a tape, winding it back and forth on the same section. Whatever it was, it seemed particularly serious, and her mother was in on it too.
Reaching Remus's office, she knocked on his door politely. He hadn't left a note anywhere, so she assumed it was alright for her to proceed. It was Harry that opened the door and let her in.
"He'll be down in a moment he says, just getting his things together." Harry told her as they sat down on a shabby yet comfy looking sofa.
Cara didn't feel like saying much, so instead nodded with a small smile. She slipped off her heavy robe and pulled off her jumper — Harry doing the same — as they acclimatised themselves to the boiling hot room. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes before Remus appeared out of his sleeping quarters, shocking both Harry and Cara with his appearance.
Remus looked ruined. It was if he had aged ten years in a week's time, his hair showing more greys than usual. He was dressed in trousers and a shirt, not even wearing his trademark cardigan. He was limping down the stairs, wincing as his foot hit each stop. The scars across his face appeared far more angry than usual, almost as if they had been reopened and the wounds were fresh. It looked as if he had been in a fight.
"Sir, we can go if you're not well." Harry told him, sincere concern in his words.
"Don't be daft." Lupin waved his hand at Harry in dismissal. "Your education is far more important than my recovery. Although, I doubt I'll be up for anything practical today."
Harry reassured him that was okay, before Lupin sat down on one of the couch chairs by the fire. He groaned softly as he sat down, giving himself a moments rest before speaking once again.
"Lupin you aren't well, I'm going to go." Harry sighed and stood up, picking up his jumpers as he did so. "Don't worry about it."
Lupin finally conceded and let Harry leave, much to his disappointment. He had the overwhelming urge to look after Harry, perhaps due to his close friendship to his father. Letting him leave felt like letting him down, but there was simply no way Remus was in any fit state for anything.
"Remus, what's wrong?" Cara asked gently, her voice soundtracked by the crackling fire.
"I took a fall. Honestly Cara, I'm feeling fine." His body betrayed him as he moved his head too quickly to gaze at her, causing him to wince.
As he watched her stare off vacantly in to the flames of the fire, he couldn't help but notice how downcast she looked. It looked as though a weight was physically sitting on her shoulders and causing her to slump, and the firey sparkle in her grey eyes had simmered to nothing but an ember.
"How are you in yourself?" He asked her, wanting nothing more than to run over and engulf her in a hug.
"Fine." She nodded with a forced smile, catching his stare.
She looked as though she was made of glass, thin glass that could shatter at any wrong moment.
"No you're not."
In just three words, Remus had found Cara's weak spot. She could lie and lie about how she was feeling and how she really wasn't about to cry, but the second someone asked if she was okay she would burst in to tears. In the most mortifying moment of her existence, tears began to slide down her cheeks as she sat in the living room of her professor's office.
"Just been a stressful week that's all. A bit homesick." She lied again, wiping her tears away before he could notice as her voice cracked.
Against his body's wishes, Remus heaved himself up off his seat slowly, making sure not to reopen any of the gashes he had given himself the other night during a particularly rough full moon. He practically staggered over to the large couch, before collapsing down next to her.
"Come here." He whispered, letting her fall into his side as she cried.
As embarrassing as she found crying in front of someone way, there was a sweet comfort in having someone to cry on. His shirt faintly smelt of coffee, and she could already sense the permanent aura of chocolate he carried around with him. She felt him press a delicate kiss to the top of her head, the scent of her peach shampoo absorbing him.
"I've got mascara on your shirt." She mumbled, flicking at it with her nails as she half laid on his chest.
"It'll come out in the wash." He chuckled, the vibration rippling through his body as his grimaced once again.
"What happened to you? It doesn't seem like a normal fall, it's more like a fight?" She asked, looking up into his battered face. "If you were scrapping down at the Leaky Cauldron on Friday night I won't tell Dumbledore."
Even with her tear stained face and somber eyes, she was still so utterly beautiful as he watched her give him a cheeky smile.
"I wish it was a fight, it would be far less embarrassing than the truth." He told her, his happiness fading as the real reason he was so beaten up flashed across his brain again.
"You can tell me you know. I'm not a grass." She said, a glimpse of hope in her eye that perhaps he would confide in her.
Just like the last time, Remus's body overtook just mind as he leant down and brushed his lips against hers. It was probably just to shut her up so that she wouldn't ask any further, but god had he been missing the feeling of kissing her. To his surprise, he felt her cup his right cheek — the one with the least amount of damage — as she kissed him harder. The skin underneath the touch of her elegantly manicured yet startling cold hand began to burn as they melted into each other.
A sudden urge of confidence washed over Cara, and she shifted herself so that she was pretty much sat on his lap. His hands naturally found their way to her waist as their kiss became deeper by the second. She had one hand on his cheek and the other laced into his sandy hair, giving it a gentle pull as he hummed into her mouth. In the split second his eyes fluttered open, he quickly slid her off his lap and back into his seat once he had caught a glimpse of his forearm.
"Oh my god, Remus you're bleeding." She gasped as she saw his now scarlet stained shirt.
"Bollocks." He sighed, undoing the cuff and rolling it up to his elbow, revealing a deep wound that had been reopened. "It's fine, just pass my wand and — "
"This needs more than a fucking spell Remus!" She cried, launching herself off the sofa. "Wait there."
Remus sat on the sofa like a told off child, annoyed at himself that he had ruined the moment. He could still feel her on his lips, and couldn't even bring himself to think about how pink his cheeks would be at that moment.
Cara had quickly dismissed the last few minutes, pushing them aside in her brain as she held a spare flannel she found in his bathroom under the warm water, squeezing out the excess before running down the steps to see him.
"Did you fall into a box of kitchen knives or something?" She exclaimed, returning to her previous seat and pressing the cloth to his cut.
The pain in his face was evident, and she realised she should probably stop pushing him into telling her what was wrong. Instead she hooked her arm around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.
"I'm sorry." She told him, knowing how much agony he was in.
"I know you are." He managed to choke out. "Just one thing?"
"What?" Cara asked, wiping away the remaining blood from the wound.
"Stay with me. Just a little longer."
—
a/n: i think this book doubled its reads in like 24 hours??? which is insane?? thank you so much x