Unexpected Friends
a Harry Potter story
by Niki
The great hall bustled with activity as students filed into the Great Hall for their morning meal. The professors were already sitting properly, overseeing the prefects. Benches started to scrape against the stone floor, as students were laughing, talking and shrieking their morning conversations. After the professors mentally tallied their Houses, they turned their attention to their meals. A scrumptious feast had been prepared and was spread before them.
Dumbledore closed his eyes against the noise. The students seemed incredibly awake this morning – moving and talking so loudly. Even the professors seemed to be screeching their silverware against their plates; which was atypical. He felt a gentle, but firm, hand on his arm.
"Albus, are you okay?"
He opened his eyes. The world seemed blurrier than it had been a moment ago. The sound also seemed like it had been dulled. Like someone had stuck cotton balls in his ears. He turned and saw the concerned face of McGonagall. Her brow was creased with worry, and her lips were set in a thin line.
"Albus," she repeated, "are you okay?"
He smiled wearily as a wave of fatigue washed over him. "Yes, Minerva, I am fine. I just didn't sleep well last night. Thank you."
She didn't look convinced.
"I'm just exhausteb," he concluded. McGonagall raised and eyebrow. `Did I just say `exhausteb?' Dumbledore wondered. He had noticed that his voice was starting sound thick, but he had thought he could keep it under control. He turned back to his food and started to pick at it. He knew he should have been hungry; and, more importantly, he knew he couldn't leave before the students. McGonagall took her cue and went back to eating her breakfast.
About three quarters of the way through breakfast, Dumbledore felt a twinge in his nose. He scrunched his nose and tried to blow out softly. He had long since become accustomed to hair from his beard tickling his nose. And, he was sure that's all this was too. "Heh...," Dumbledore sniffed. The tickle worsened to an irritating itch. It felt like it was just above his right nostril. He rubbed at the right side of his nose with his knuckle, but the itch seemed to be just outside his grasp. He took a jerky breath in and held it for a few seconds. The itch seemed to subside. Not thinking, he slowly released the air, through his nose. "He-ah – ik!" he sneezed into the back of his hand.
All of the professors cast sideways glances at him. Hagrid was the only one to speak. "Bless ye – sir."
Dumbledore turned to Hagrid and nodded his thanks. The world seemed to bob out of sync with his head. He felt the world spin once. And then again. On the third spin his stomach lurched. Determined to be able to sit through the rest of breakfast – and keep it all inside him – he took in a deep breath. The cool air tickled his throat, in a way that he hadn't felt in a long time. He reached for his water and noticed Hermione looking at him oddly. "I must look as bad as I feel. Luckily, most of the students don't tend to look this way," he thought to himself, as he took a sip of the water. It cooled and soothed his throat. He looked back to Hermione, who was quickly finishing her meal, as if she had just remembered she had to study for an important test.
Suddenly, he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He gasped in surprise, and his breath caught. He felt the same tickle return to his throat, only stronger this time. "Ughch, ughchuh, ughcuhuh!" he coughed, again reaching for his water. Now, not only were the professors staring at him oddly, but he noticed more students than just Hermione had caught him.
"Albus," Snape whispered, leaning near Dumbledore's shoulder, "come with me. I have a potion that will clear that up in no time."
"I can't," Dumbledore gasped, trying to maintain his breath control. "I can't leave before the student's. It's not proper." He coughed quietly.
"Albus, it's for the students that you should leave. Come with me." And with that Snape set off, down the right most aisle, towards the door out – his cloak billowing behind him.
Dumbledore made to follow him. His footing was unsteady, but he was sure as long as he kept a smile on his face and walked slowly, he would make it out without causing too much of a scene. As he rounded the corner of the table, Hermione stopped him. "Sir, are you alright?" she asked. He could see the mixture of curiosity and concern, in her eyes.
"I'm as fine as I look," he answered, truthfully.
Hermione's lips set in a straight line, not unlike McGonagall's had, only half an hour before. "Was that really only a half an hour ago?" he mused to himself. "It feels so much longer."
"Is there anything I can do to help? Maybe get you some Pepper Up?" Hermione offered earnestly.
Dumbledore looked up and saw Snape coming straight for them, glowering at Hermione all the way. "I appreciate your concern. If you'd like to help later, just come to my office and say what the slithy toves did in the wabe. Until then, go back to your studies." He smiled warmly.
Hermione gave him an odd glance, but went and sat back down at the Gryffindor table...narrowly averting Snape's wrath.
"I'm coming, Severus," Dumbledore said, before Snape could even get the words out. "I dos had a madder of great urdency to attend do." He started moving slowly towards the door.
"I can't imagine what she would have to say that would be important."
"More dan you know, Severus. More dan you know."
In Snape's dungeon a potion was brewing on the fire, while he tried to convince Dumbledore to go back to his bed chambers.
"I'll bring you the potion when it's ready. This dungeon is far too damp and drafty, if you're catching a cold," he insisted, as he placed a heavy blanket over Dumbledore's lap.
"Ker-cha! I'b fine. I dos neeb the potiond and I'll go get somb rest."
"Sir, I don't mean to be impertinent, but it will take at least 15 more minutes to brew. Please, travel by floo powder, while you can still speak even somewhat clearly."
"Ker-cha!" Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm find."
Snape went over to the fire and added some eucalyptus oil to the potion. He stirred the potion three times to the left and once to the right. He could smell the lavender wafting up, indicating that the potion was just about ready. Snape wrinkled his nose.
"Albus," he said leaning over Dumbledore's shoulder. "You were concerned about the students seeing that you were unwell at breakfast. How is going to look when you can barely walk, or have to be carried to your bed chambers? You know it's not safe to apparate when a person is ill...too many negative possibilities can happen."
Dumbledore turned to look at him, his eyes full of frustration. "Seversus, I –Ka-choo! – Oh Severus, I'b so sorry." Snape was still leaning over Dumbledore, but now his eyes were shut tight, and a look of disgust crossed his face. He had been sneezed on once before, in his life. But, that was by his lover, not by the headmaster of Hogwarts. And even Remus, hadn't sneezed in his face. "Yes," Dumbledore continued. "Yes, I'll travel by floo powder. Please brind thad to be when you're done."
Snape composed himself slowly. He took out his handkerchief and wiped it over the side of his face. He had been hoping to avoid catching Dumbledore's illness. But, now it seemed inevitable. And worse yet, it was only three days before the full moon, and for once Remus actually seemed to be feeling up to par going into the transformation. Now, he would have to be extra careful – or avoid Remus all together. The more he spun the options around in his head, the more avoidance seemed to be the safest -yet hardest-course of action.
Dumbledore slowly, but stately, made his way to the fireplace. Snape followed him and took the potion off the fire.
"That won't hurt it, will it?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, of course not," Snape lied. He would have to make a whole new batch, but the sooner Dumbledore got to bed, the better off they would both be.
Dumbledore took his handkerchief out and blew his nose wetly. He could feel his sinuses empty and cool air rush into them. He took the moment and threw down the floo powder. "Dumbledore's Chambers!" he stated plainly. He could feel his nose start to tickle from the gust of floo powder. He bit back the sneeze and with a flash of green light he was gone.
When Dumbledore emerged from his fireplace, he was hit with a fit of sneezes. "Ker-cha! Ker-tchsoo! Ker-tshoo! Ker-cha!" He reached for his handkerchief again and blew his nose. He sniffed, and his nose squeaked. He sighed. It had been nearly 7 years since he had gotten sick, and he wasn't much looking forward to the days to come. He got into his bed clothes and got into bed. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered if Hermione was clever enough to figure out the passwords and if she was really planning on coming and helping him.
Snape saw the flash of green light and sighed in relief. He hadn't seen Dumbledore in this bad of shape in almost a decade. A cold or allergies, sure, Dumbledore was powerful, but mortal – just like the rest of them. But, not this sick. Not so ill he was too dazed to control his sneezing. And not so sick that he spiraled down in less than an hour. Snape poured the now curdling potion out. He didn't want to reuse ingredients. Not for something as important as this.
Snape glanced at the clock on the mantle. First class was just about half way through. He had to teach potions in half a period. No problem. There would be plenty of time to brew up the necessary potion, deliver it to Dumbledore and get to class. `Maybe," he thought, `if I work extra fast, I can steal a moment with Remus first.' He smiled at the thought. The two of them hadn't been getting nearly enough time together as of late. But, then he remembered Dumbledore's sneeze. His stomach turned with disappointment. He couldn't put Remus at risk. Not, this close to the full moon. `Once again,' he thought, `a Gryffindor has taken away something I treasure. Even if what I treasure is another Gryffindor.' He smiled at the irony. If someone had told him, when he went to school, that he and Remus would go far beyond their secret friendship and into the realm of lovers, he would have turned them into a rat and then sent a cat after them. But that's what had happened.
It happened on their first assignment together for the Order. Remus had transformed only 2 days prior, and he had not yet regained full strength. Snape had been partnered with him, not so much to look after him, but to spy on some muggles who sounded like they were being recruited to join the Death Eaters. He recalled admiring Remus for his ability to hide his weakness and adhere to the task at hand. He also remembered the last night, when Remus could no longer contain his exhaustion...
They were just returning to their base of operations. Remus had been sweating for the better part of an hour, but insisted that it was just stress. Snape didn't want to press the matter further, but could tell that was a lie.
"Would you like some tea?" Snape asked as Remus collapsed onto a grey, tattered, over-stuffed couch.
"Only if you're already making some. I don't want to be a bother," Remus answered. His heart was racing. The pain that had followed the transformation was excruciating, but he'd be darned if he was going to admit that to Snape.
"Of course, I'm making it for myself. Do you think I would just ask you out of sheer kindness?" Snape snapped back.
"Of course not." Remus rolled his eyes. When they were younger, he had never catered to anybody's ego. He just let people be the way they were. Unfortunately, that included letting James and Sirius be intolerably cruel to Snape. However, he'd always liked Snape. The two of them had no quarrels with each other, personally - just the people whom they each chose to be friends with.
"Here," Snape said, handing him a cup of warm tea. It smelled like 100 peppermint sticks all doing the tango. Remus took a sip. He could take honey and lemon, which made the tea slide down his throat even easier. The tea itself was delicious, and he would have had no problem drinking it, even without the honey and lemon. But, the extra bit of sweetness was very appreciated. The warmth of the tea filled his body, and slowly his aches started to lessen.
"Now, would you like to tell me what's wrong?" Snape was sipping his own tea. But his eyes yielded a great amount of concern.
"I'm just very sore. I hadn't fully healed from my transformation when we were assigned. A weeks worth of good sleep should clear that up in no time." Remus stretched out on the couch and leaned his head back. He felt sleep start to overtake him, and his cup be taken away. Suddenly, he felt strong but gentle hands massaging his feet and up his calves. "Mmm...that feels so good," he mumbled, just before he fell into the deepest sleep that he had in a long time...
Snape shook himself out of his memory and glanced at the clock. Hardly 3 minutes had passed, but he remembered every minute of that first encounter. The first time, in his lifetime, he was able to show somebody who he truly was. And, just as importantly, the day he fell for the man who changed his life – with trust, friendship, acceptance – and best of all love.
Just as he finished brewing the potion, and was about to step into the fireplace, Remus came in. "Where are you going?" he inquired.
"I was just about to bring Flu-Be-Gone to Dumbledore."
"That makes sense. How is he feeling by the way?" Remus started walking dangerously close to Snape, who was trying to withdraw further into the fireplace. "Severus? What's wrong? Why are you pulling away from me?"
"I'll explain when I get back. Dumbledore's Bed Chambers!" he exclaimed as he disappeared behind a green flash.
Remus felt an anxious feeling of hurt settle in his stomach. `Why didn't Severus want to be near me?' He tried to shake off the feelings of insecurity and hurt. But, Severus had never done that to him before, and he didn't know how to handle it. He sat down in Severus' armchair. It was still warm. He smiled as he drifted off to sleep, feeling like he was wrapped in the arms of his lover.
Snape arrived at Dumbledore's fireplace, in a blaze of green flame. The room was almost completely dark, save the sunlight that was peaking in through the curtains, and filled with Dumbledore's deep snores. Every few breaths, Dumbledore would seem to choke and cough. But, as Snape noticed when he rushed to aid him, Dumbledore never awoke. Conflicted with the decision of waking Dumbledore or not, Snape shook him on the shoulder. Dumbledore's eyes opened slowly.
"Severus," his voice sounded hoarse. "What time is it?"
"Only 20 minutes from when you saw me last. Here, drink this." Snape held out the potion.
Dumbledore shook his head, as if he was having trouble focusing. Within a few moments, though, he settled himself and was able to drink the potion. His taste buds were suddenly zapped with the most delicious smelling, bitter tasting potion that he'd ever tasted. He gagged, and started making retching sounds. Snape jumped away from the side of the bed, and frantically scanned the room for a wastebasket, or something similar. He spied one in the corner and summoned it. He put it on the edge of Dumbledore's bed.
"Albus," he said soothingly. "You have to try to keep that down. It won't help, if it doesn't stay in you for at least a little while."
Dumbledore retched loudly, and started coughing uncontrollably. Snape felt his head for a fever. It was much higher than it should have been.
"Albus, do you need to go to the infirmary?"
"Doe," Dumbledore whispered. "I'll be finb. Please just leave be. Thank you, Severus. I just need to get some – Ka-chak! – sniff- sleep."
Snape took his cue, and disappeared in a blaze of green fire, as he took the floo back to his dungeon. When he arrived there, Remus was sitting in his chair; the same chair Dumbledore had been sitting in. Barely two steps out of the fireplace, he commanded, "Remus, get out of there!"
Remus looked up at him, hurt. "Oh, I- I'm sorry. You've never had an issue with it before." He could feel the icy fingers of rejection tickle his stomach.
"And normally you'd be right," Snape replied in a much gentler voice as he made his way over. "But, right now that's a very unsafe place for you to be."
Remus replied only with a skeptical look. Snape could get into his moods, but normally he didn't take it out on him. In fact, typically, he was the only one who Snape would be tolerable around.
Sensing the hurt in his lover's eyes, Snape softened his tone. "Dumbledore was sitting there, love. I don't want you to get sick before the full moon. You're actually going into it strong this time."
Remus smiled. That logic made a lot of sense. But, it still didn't explain why Severus had pulled away from him. Even now, he was a good ten feet away from him, and not looking interested in coming any closer.
Snape watched the internal struggle within Remus. He could see the rejection, the fear, the self-loathing. He wanted to reach out and pull him close, caressing him and telling him that nothing had changed. But, he knew that he couldn't do that. He couldn't risk getting that close. Snape wanted to say something, but he knew Remus wouldn't agree with the separation, even if it was for his own good. So, he kept quiet, and watched the internal struggle, and wished Remus was better at Occlumency, so that he could just send him the image – and then none of this suffering would be necessary.
"Remus," Snape began.
Remus looked up. His eyes wide with hope, but his heart full of doubt. This was it, right before the full moon. `Severus has grown tired of taking care of me. And who wouldn't really? What did I expect, a strong man like him to stick around forever? No, I've lost Lily and James. I've lost Sirius and Peter. I can't allow myself to identify with Harry – though he's so much like his parents. The kindness of Lily, combined with the rascal of James... no, I've lost them all. And now Severus too – I shouldn't have expected different. The ward at St. Mungo's was right. Nobody loves a werewolf, they just tolerate them.'
Just then the bell for 2nd class rang. The suddenness of it made Snape forget what he was going to say. He started towards the door, with a sympathetic glance at Remus. From the doorway, he turned – "It's not your fault. I'll explain later," he said, and he was down the hall in a flash.
Dejected and alone, Remus set about the dungeon, putting away the herbs and oils, and setting out the cauldron for the house elves to clean.
"Gyre and Gimble," Hermione stated to the Griffin guarding the hidden staircase, which lead up to Dumbledore's study. She knew she had heard the nonsense words before, she just couldn't remember which book. So, she had taken to the library the first chance she got. She had read Alice in Wonderland as a little girl, but she didn't realize that Lewis Carroll was a wizard. However, it all seemed so clear now. He wasn't writing satire – he was writing the truth, as he knew it. Muggles just didn't know better.
As she ascended the spiral staircase, she expected to feel the warmth that tended to pour out of Dumbledore's study. Instead, she didn't feel anything. When she opened the door the room was dark and empty. There was no fire in the fireplace, the curtains were drawn, Falkes was in his ash form, even the portraits were either asleep or reading quietly.
When she entered the room, the Portrait of a Man Holding a Book, looked up from his reading. "Headmaster Dumbledore is unavailable today, young lady," he stated matter of factly.
"He asked me to come," Hermione answered flatly.
"He is asleep, right now. But if you tell me who you are, I'll inform him when he awakes."
"I'm here to help him."
The man in the portrait raised an eyebrow. "Students never want to help. They want to be bold or noble, but they don't want to put in the time or sacrifice that it takes to help."
Hermione was hurt by that statement. After all, she had come when she noticed there was a problem, hadn't she?
"How do I get to him?"
The man in the portrait looked surprised. "Through the door."
Hermione glanced around the room. There was no door other than the one she came in. There were multiple bookshelves and a large glass mirror. She saw his work area and a pensive, but no door.
"If you can't find it, you can't use it."
Hermione started looking at the walls for any secret doors or openings. She knew that there wouldn't be anything so primitive as a switch there. But, she was also fairly certain that if there was a specific password to give Dumbledore would have given her a clue. As it was, he'd already alluded to `Jabberwocky' by Lewis Carroll. She started muttering it out loud as she patrolled the room.
"Twas brillig, and the slythy toves did gyle and gimble in the wabe. All the mimsy were the burrowgroves and the momraths out grabe."
Suddenly a leather bound copy of `Alice in Wonderland' caught her eye from the bookshelf. It was a bit high for her, but she pulled it out of its place. As she pulled, she heard grinding – like stone on stone. She turned towards the sound and saw the glass in the mirror opening to reveal a passage that went behind the wall. `Through the looking glass,' she thought. `Clever.' As soon as she stepped through the mirror she saw him and gasped. He was sleep under a mountain of covers. A small waste basket was at the side of his bed. The room was cold and damp. She could see him shivering from across the room. His hair was disheveled and his skin was pale and looked moist, but his cheeks were very red.
She took a few steps nearer. She could now hear him snoring or wheezing with each breath. She peered into the waste basket. It was empty, except for 3 fully soiled handkerchiefs. There was a full pitcher of water, on his night stand. However, the glass next to it was bone dry. She carefully poured him another glass of water, and went to see about making a fire.
"Incendia," she whispered, pointing her wand at the fireplace. A fire instantly appeared, the flames dancing about. "Minor," she whispered until the fire became no more than a small heat source.
She turned to make sure he had still not awoken. `Good,' she thought. She rose to her feet and went to his bedside again. His breathing was still labored and shallow. She reached over to feel his forehead, when he started to change into a boy. A boy she'd not seen in almost 7 years. Tears sprang to her eyes, as she touched his soft sandy blond hair and play sallow cheeks. Suddenly his eyes opened.
Snape was having a very difficult time making it through his class. Not only did he feel despicable for pulling away from Remus, but he was also starting to feel the cold settle into his system. He knew that he was going to slide downhill – and fast.
"So," he said, casting a harsh glance around the room, "who can tell me the healing properties of peppermint, eucalyptus, lavender and ginger when combined?"
He instinctively looked toward Hermione Granger's seat – not to call on her – but to smirk. He knew she knew the answer, but that didn't help the rest of the class. He'd seen it before – they all slid by on her knowledge. But, to his surprise, she wasn't in her seat.
He looked around the room. Nobody was even looking up. "Five pages on the healing properties of these herbs, and how the properties change when combined."
The class didn't even groan. They were long since accustomed to the homework load. And, really, five pages for this sort of essay was easy.
Snape started to feel a twist in his stomach. He was ready for class to be over. Neville and Dean were whispering in the back of class, again. He felt like he was constantly giving them detentions. But, tonight, the last thing he wanted to do was sit with those two. Tonight, the only person he wanted to sit with was Remus – to hold him close and tell him how much he loved him. The latter of the two would have to happen one way of the other. Remus doubted himself and their relationship, and he couldn't allow either to happen.
He looked at the clock. Fifteen more minutes until the end of class – then Herbolgy, then lunch. Snape couldn't remember the last time he longed for lunch so passionately.
"Please start your paper and continue working on it silently until the end of class. You can use any of your text books or any books from my library."
The class stared at him in stunned surprise. They'd never even heard of anything like this happening. Some of them took him up on his offer. Most just opened their books and stared at their parchment.
Remus sat in Snape's dungeon. The castle elves had long since been in and out. Everything was cleaned and Remus was feeling very neutral. He'd been working on shutting himself down ever since the conversation. If this was the end, he couldn't afford to lose any strength to it. The full moon was just a few nights away, and even with the wolfsbane, they were difficult. There was no longer a Sirius to transform with him. He'd had to get through it alone. But, at least for the past few yeas Severus had been there in the morning. Now, he'd have to go to the Shreiking Shack and hope that none of the students (a) saw him and (b) somebody would find him. He knew that was a contradiction, but he hated being alone after his transformation. He thought of James and Lily. They, with Sirius and Peter were always the first to come visiting – sometimes even before he was coherent.
If he had to pick four friends now, he wasn't sure who they'd be. Possibly Dumbledore and McGonagall, they had always been supportive and without judgment of his condition. Hagrid maybe. He was a good man, but a bit of a klutz. Remus smiled as he imagined a well meaning Hagrid bumbling around. Harry –what Remus wouldn't do to have Harry be there. He wasn't James, but he was close. Not only as James and Lily's son, but he was so much like the best of both of them. Remus felt his eyes cloud. He missed them all so much. The only four people who really mattered to him: Sirius, Peter, James and Lily. He was the sole remaining member of his pack. He sat down heavily in Severus' chair and tried to come up with four people from his present life that he wished would be there.
"Hermione, what are you doing here?" Dumbledore asked. His form had gone back to that of the old man she so highly respected.
"I came to help," she answered, quietly.
Though his arms were weak, his chest heavy and his stomach uneasy, he pushed himself into an upright position. "You shouldn't be here. It's dot safe. You must doe. I'll be f-f-f-Ackcha! finb."
"Bless you. You shouldn't be alone."
Dumbledore twitched up his nose. "Ha-Pleoo!" He sniffed wetly and Hermione handed him one of the handkerchiefs from the stack by the bed, and he blew his nose.
Hermione was relieved that the congestion had not settled yet. With any luck, he'd be able to come out of this no worse for the wear. "Bless you," she said. "I'll summon whomever you'd like, but like I said, I'm not leaving you alone."
Dumbledore looked at though he was going to protest, but was suddenly overcome by a harsh fit of coughing, which doubled him over. Embarrassed and fatigued he succumbed to the fit. Unexpectedly, he felt a small gentle hand rubbing his back. She was pressing on pressure points in just the right way. Slowly, his fit subsided. "Where did you learn that?"
"When I was younger, my brother was sick for a very long time. My whole family used pressure point therapy and Shiatsu to relieve the pain. I just used different points to relieve your coughing."
Dumbledore smiled. "Thang do," he said lowering himself back down.
Hermione smiled back. She placed a handkerchief into a bowl of cool water, which had been left by the castle elves and placed it on Dumbledore's forehead. "Now, rest and go back to sleep," she said soothingly.
By the time lunch rolled around, the last thing Snape wanted to do was go. He was running quite a fever and the nausea was so bad that he'd already needed to leave his class twice to retch in the bathroom.
He was barely able to make it down to the dungeon before the world started spinning so violently that he felt as if he were going to fall off. He hacked twice and went directly to his bed chamber and fell into bed. His head was pounding and he desperately need help, but he wasn't sure exactly how to ask...or who. He had selfishly been hoping that Remus would be there to take care of him. But, alas no.
Remus sat in the Great all surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the day. Only Hagrid seemed to take notice that Reums was out of sorts. `Definitely adding him to the four visitors,' Remus thought fondly. Remus looked for Harry and waved. Both Harry and Ron waved back. But, Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Dumbledore was absent too. And, so was Snape. Remus sighed wearily. This was not right. Neither Severus or Dumbledore ever missed lunch. It wasn't the order of things. He'd been hearing rumors of Severus leaving his class unattended during the day – and Hermione missing completely. Finally, his instinct got the better of him and he headed down to the dungeon.
Tinky had brought some soup for Dumbledore –not too hot – just as Hermione had asked. In return, Hermione gave her a glove, which Tinky promptly ran from. Hermione sighed. George and Fred had been right – the elves liked things just the way they were.
She gently put her hand on Dumbledore's arm. "Sir?" she asked. She knew that he'd been sleeping lightly, since every time she replaced the cool cloth, he thanked her.
He stirred but he didn't wake up.
"Dumbledore," she whispered, a little louder this time.
He opened his eyes. "Des, by dear?" he asked hoarsely.
"It's lunch time. You need to eat a little something, to keep your strength up."
He shook his head, ever so softly.
She sat on the edge of his bed and helped him prop himself up. He was burning to the touch. "Just a bit now. It'll help you recover." She remembered saying the same thing to her brother- all those years ago. Stroking Jimmy's hair back and telling him that if he ate like a big boy, he'd get better. Well, she'd believed it then and she believe it now.
"If you insist." He was sure this was a bad idea. His stomach was turning over so many times, he could barely concentrate on sleeping, let alone eating. But, Hermione seemed to be sure of what she was doing. Dumbledore wondered if she'd ever thought about becoming a healer.
Suddenly, his nose twitched. He gave it a good rub with his knuckle, but the itch was too deep. He placed a hand on Hermione's leg, to keep her from giving him the soup. She turned to look at him and immediately knew what was wrong.
"Heh...heh... ehk...," the sneeze was tickling him – torturing him. He could feel it building power, but it wouldn't come out. It slowly went away, and Hermione started to bring the soup to her lap. She spooned some warm broth into his mouth. It was perfect – warm but not too hot and flavorful. Just as he went to swallow, however, the sneeze came back with a vengeance. "Aeh – AK-choo!" The soup sprayed out. "Heh-AK-CHOO! Isshoo! Ack-CHOO! Tisshoo! He-ik..." He held his breath and realized that in one lightening quick motion Hermione had put down the soup and held a handkerchief to his face. The only free sneeze was the first one. She now sat next to him, with a strong look of concern in her eyes. He took the handkerchief from her. "Th-thank... thank... HA-Ack-CHOO! Thand do." He blew wetly into the handkerchief and disposed of it.
"Your welcome," she said gently. She turned to him and handed him a steaming mug. "It's peppermint, spearmint and eucalyptus. It'll help clear you up a bit."
`Definitely a healer,' Dumbledore thought. He took a sip. Heavenly. Hermione had also added a healthy dose of honey, which made it down and stay down easier.
Remus entered the dungeon. "Severus? Are you in here?"
Slowly, Snape emerged from the bed chamber. He was leaning against the wall for support.
"Severus, what's wrong?" Remus asked. All the feelings he'd been working hard to suppress came rushing back to the surface. He briskly walked over to him.
"No..." Severus said weakly. "you can't get this Remus – not before the moon."
Remus pretended not to hear him. "Severus, what's wrong?"
"Dumbledore sn – snee –," Severus doubled over in an intense fit of coughing.
Remus wrapped his arm around Severus' waist and held him steady. "I'm going to go talk to Albus and Minerva. You get back to bed. You can't teach anymore today." He kissed Serverus softly on the forehead. "You can tell me about it later."
"I'm telling you Minerva, we're going to have to cancel classes. Atchoo!"
"Bless you, Remus. But, isn't that a bit extreme?"
Remus shook his head slowly. His eyes were smoldering with frustration. "Albus has been ill all day, and Hermione has been caring for him. Severus claims he's better than he was, but he's still in no position to teach." Remus turned his back on Minerva and held his handkerchief up to his face, "Atchoo!"
"Bless you, again. It sounds like you're coming down with something too."
"Could be. Though it's less than a week until the full moon, and I'm willing to guess that's mo- mo- most Kerchoo! most of the problem."
"Bless you. And, your wolfsbane?"
"Severus is too ill to make it, and the same goes for Albus. I'll be on my own this time." He saw the concerned look she was giving him. "It's okay. It's not easy, but I've done it before."
"Fine, but there is still no excuse to cancel classes. There are enough teachers to cover for those who are ill."
"Minerva... heh – isshoo! Excuse me. The predicament isn't just who's ill and who's not. It's that Severus is insistent on teaching – unless he's relieved from his classes. Which, only Albus can do."
Minerva's eyes narrowed. "Not only Albus can do that. Come with me, and she stalked out of the room and down to the dungeon.
Snape was in his bed clothes and asleep. He didn't like being awoken, and he liked less being told that he was on restriction until he became better. But, he just didn't have the strength to argue.
Afterwards, Remus stopped Minerva before she left the dungeon entirely. "There is one more thing." He turned his head and sneezed wetly into his handkerchief. "Excuse be," he sniffled against the congestion. "Hermione Granger is taking care of Albus, and firmly refuses to leave him unattended. She's missing all of her classes, but she says that some things are more important. Minerva, Hermione is saying this."
Minerva thought about it for a moment. "Get her lessons to her. If she refuses to go to classes, she'll have to make them up – just like any other student."
"It's alright Sir, really. Just relax now." Hermione's soothing voice filled his soul and warmed his heart. Even the healers at St. Mungo's were seldom this sympathetic.
Dumbledore nodded his head, but when he tried to speak, he got sick again. Hermione had noticed his plight and put his wastebasket onto his lap just in time. She was now speaking soothingly to him and stroking his long white hair. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this," he breathed, when his stomach finished rebelling.
"It's alright, you're sick. It happens."
"Yes, but –," his stomach lurched again, and afterwards he was afraid to talk again. He was out of breath and exhausted. After a few minutes he felt a bit better. He o put the wastebasket down and collapsed onto the pillows.
Hermione sat down next to him. It pained her to see such a strong man in such a weak state. His exhaustion, coughing and sneezing had not subdued, and he'd just had a very violent reaction to the latest dose of FBG. She looked down at him. His eyes were closed and the circles under them were deep, but she could tell from the way he was breathing that he wasn't asleep. She poured him a glass of cool water, but didn't give it to him just yet. She patted his head with the cool cloth. He smiled and started to breath easier. She remembered Jimmy doing the same thing. She saw so much of her younger brother in the old man. Her heart twisted with a bitter sweet melancholy, but she wouldn't give into it. "Here, drink," she said, raising his head and holding the glass to his lips. He took a sip, thanked her, and drifted off to sleep.
When she was certain that he was asleep, she went to his library and looked up the ingredients to FBG.
Zingiber Officinale (Ginger)
Eucalypti Aetheroleum (Eucalyptus)
Mentha Piperita (Peppermint)
Mentha Spicata (Spearmint)
Melissa Officinalis (Lemon Balm)Hermione read through the list of ingredients over and over, but she couldn't understand what would illicit such a negative response. Unlike muggle medication, there wasn't a list of side effects either. As she thumbed through the potions book she noticed lists of side effects for other potions, such as: `may turn skin blue', `hair follicles may twist', or `horn shrinkage may occur'. But, there wasn't anything specific to FBG. She considered the possibility of a reaction between two of the herbs, but the only two that weren't in Pepper Up were the Spearmint and the Lemon Balm – neither of which should have caused that reaction. She really wanted to ask someone why Dumbledore had the reaction that he did, but the only person that she could ask – other than Dumbledore himself-was Professor Snape, and she shuddered at the thought.
The next day Snape awoke with a start. His throat was parched and his head plugged up. He groped in the dark for Remus, but couldn't feel him. "Rebus?" he called quietly.
Silence.
Snape rolled over to get comfortable. `Minerva was right. I'm in no shape to teach,' he thought. As if it was agreeing, his nose started to tickle. He sniffed, but it didn't do any good. He reached for the pile of handkerchiefs that were stacked by his bed. As he reached, his hand brushed something.
"Severus, are you okay?" Remus asked from the darkness.
"Rebus," he felt the tickle growing in strength, " I deed a hanberchef."
"Certainly," Remus said, handing him one from the night stand. "How are you feeling today?"
"I'b bedder." He sniffed, and immediately the tickle became an itch. "It's just a dead dold." He quickly rubbed his nose, determined not to look as bad as he felt. He looked at Remus, as his eyes adjusted to the dark. His complexion was sallow and pale. "Do look terrible. Whad's da madder?"
Remus considered his options. He strongly considered lying, but knew how badly Severus would be hurt if it came out in the future. "It's two days from the moon, and I don't have any wolfsbane to sustain me."
Snape nodded, sleepily. "I udderstanb."
Remus smiled. "I'll be alright." He knew that Severus felt so horrible that he didn't even realize that nobody else was skilled enough with potions to make him the wolfsbane. So, this month, he would have to do without.
"Of dourse do w-...w-...w-Issho! Keechoo! Issho! Isshoo! Tisshoo! Tiskoo! Tissshoo!-Choo! will." Severus rolled onto his back, blew his nose and groaned.
Remus frowned. He sat down on the bed and started rubbing Severus' chest. "I have some eucalyptus balm. Would you like me to rub some on your chest? Maybe it'll help clear you out a bit."
Severus nodded. He took off his shirt and felt the cool air hit his moist chest. He felt Remus' lubricated hand slide over his chest. Even through his congestion he could smell the eucalyptus. "HICTISHOO!!" The sneeze shook him with such force that it nearly bent him in half. Luckily, he'd been able to aim the sneeze away from Remus, who had not ceased rubbing. He blew into the rumpled handkerchief he was holding. He felt the congestion start to release. The vapors from the eucalyptus were also going into his chest. He could feel himself breathing deeper than he had since he started feeling ill. "Thand do, Rebus."
Remus sighed. All of his fears had been for nothing. It wasn't the beginning of the end. It was the end of the beginning. `Severus put his own health on the line to make sure that I'd be alright,' he thought. He quietly left the room ad walked down the hall to the Great Hall. He was hungry for lunch – and for the latest gossip. McGonagall had relived him of his duties as well, so he didn't know what was going on in the rest of Hogwarts.
Suddenly, a new smell hit his nose. A deeply warm scantly cologne. It flooded his wolf-like senses until he was unable to breathe. He pulled out his handkerchief and shook it open. "Hisssshoo!" he caught the sneeze just in time. "Eh...heh..shooo!" He gently blew his nose and put away his handkerchief.
"Bless you, Professor. Are you alright?" a familiar boys voice said.
Remus smiled. "Hello, Harry. I'm fine, thank you. I just wasn't expecting your cologne."
Harry frowned. "Too much? This is all new to me. I wasn't sure if 5 sprays was enough."
Remus bit back a laugh. "Yes, Harry, five sprays are most certainly enough. In fact, two should be plenty."
Harry smiled, grateful for the advice. "May I accompany you to wherever you're going?"
"Depends, why aren't you at lunch?"
"Professor Flitwick is sick. So we got a free period. I'm just late coming from the common room."
"If you'd like, I'd be happy to have you."
The two of them walked to the Great Hall together – with Harry mostly talking about a fellow Gryffindor – Cho. Remus remembered James speaking in a similar fashion about Lily. He smiled as his heart twisted. How he missed them both.
Just like Lily would have, Harry noticed. "Professor, are you alright?"
Remus snapped out of his daze. "Yes, Harry. I'm quite alright. Thank you." He gave Harry a squeeze on the shoulder.
Harry smiled back, but he didn't buy into it. They walked the rest of the way together, in silence.
When Hermione awoke, she found that a blanket had been placed over her and that Dumbledore was sitting up in bed reading. "Oh!" she exclaimed, jumped out of the chair she had fallen asleep in.
He looked up from his book. "Ah," he smiled warmly. "Good to see you're up." He coughed huskily. "Did you sleep well?"
"Better than I should have," Hermione answered, as she folded the blanket and put it on the back of the chair.
"How so?"
"You're up. I should have known that."
Dumbledore shook his head. "Not if I place a silencing charm over you. I lifted it just a few minutes ago." He closed his eyes steadily, and started taking deep breaths. "Heh-HE-ACH! Hep- Pchoo! Hech-Choo! ACK-CHOO!" He picked up a handkerchief and relieved his tickling nose.
"Bless you." Hermione came over and sat next o him on the bed. She could see the flush in his cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. His skin almost seemed thinner than usual, and he was rubbing under his nose with the handkerchief. "How are you feeling?"
"Better. The Flu-Be-Gone has done its job, and relived me to a bad cold."
"But," she hesitated. She hated to ask him anything about his condition. However, she preferred him to Snape. "But, what about your issues last night? You got so much worse."
"A common misconception. In fact, that was my body dispelling of the virus, which, I must say, you responded very
well."Hermione's face lit up. "Thanks!"
"Have you ever given any thought to being a healer?"
"No. One on one is fine but seeing a lot of patients – I think I'd find it monotonous."
"Ah, I understanb. Ker-choo! Ka-cha! Ka-," he tried to hold it in, but his nose kept running and tickling him. "Ka-Tach! Ka-Teack! Ka-tech! Heti-shissh!" He ble his nose. "I hate dis."
"I know," she said, handing him a new handkerchief.
In the Great Hall, Remus' ears were picking up on everything and his was starting to pound from the hyper-stimulating.
"So," Hagrid started saying in a hushed tone. "I hear Professor Flitwick is really sick."
"Yes," McGonagall agreed. "He seems to have come down with the flue – same as the others."
"Minerva, has anybody checked on Filius?" Remus asked, so that only she could hear.
"Yes, and he's quite ill."
"Has he had Flu Be Gone, yet?"
"No, not yet."
"I'll go bring it to him," he said as he went to get up.
"No!" she exclaimed, putting her hand on his. "Remus, it's not safe. Don't be the hero. You're going to need every bit of strength soon."
"I know, Minerva. But, I have to do something." With that he rose from the table and exited the hall.
"Fil?" Remus called in after he'd knocked and ducked down to enter through the dwarven sized door.
"Remus?" a hoarse voice whispered through the shadows. "Remus, is that you?"
"Yes. I've got your dose of Flu-Be-Gone," Remus said gently.
"Just leave it there. I don't want you to – ka-choo! get this. You don't want do – ka-cha! Edder." Remus heard a soft blow.
"Just let me see you take this, and I'll be on my way."
"Ach-choo! Tank do, Rebus. But really..."
"There you are!" Remus spotted him in a chair in the corner, completely wrapped in blankets, but still shivering. "Come on, old friend, let's get you to bed."
"Flitwick smiled. Remus was one of the few students he'd had, who'd beomce his friend. He could now remember why. "You look worn out Rebus."
"I'm just trying to get through the next few days. But, I'll be alright. Thank you, Filius." He helped his friend into bed, and covered him with layers of blankets. "Bottoms up," he said, handing him a vile.
Flitwick took the vile and drained it completely. He immediately felt the effects sweep over him. He slid down under the blankets "Thad do, bud pleads leave dow."
"Remus nodded, with a look of sympathy. "Call me if you need me."
"I dwill. Danks. Ka-choo!"
Remus left Filius' chambers to the bone chilling sound of him getting violently ill. He contemplated going back in, but he knew that Filius would be horribly upset about it. He couldn't do that to him. He headed towards Dumbledore's chambers instead.
"Gyle and gimble," he said to the gargoyle who released the wall and revealed the staircase. As he ascended he felt a wave of fatigue wash over him. `Oh no, not now,' he thought. He'd become all too accustomed with the way his body shut down in the week preceding his transformation. Now, only 1 night away, his body was begging for rest. But, he had to keep going. He couldn't just watch people fall apart around him. It just wasn't his way.
As he came into Dumbledore's chambers, he heard talking and husky laughter. He smiled. Hermione certainly was doing her job well. He felt a tickle start to irritate his nose. He softly blew it into his handkerchief, but it wouldn't release.
"Well, well, I'm pleased to see you're doing better," he said as he entered the chamber. Dumbledore was sitting up, with some half eaten toast and tea. He noticed a light fragrance from the tea but couldn't identify it. He felt his throat become scratchy. He tried to clear it, but to no avail.
"Remus" Dumbledore's voice was still strained, but jovial. "Please come in. Sit down. Hermione was just telling me stories of her very muggle family. You'd appreciate them, I'm sure."
Remus smiled. "I'm sure I woulb." He sniffed a few times. "I have dour Pepper-Ub for dou." The fragrance from the tea seemed to be getting stronger. `Oh no, not lilac, anything but lilac!' he thought frantically. He quickly grabbed his handkerchief and held it to his face just in time. "HA-ACH-CHOO! Asshoo! Isshoo! Hisshoo! Tisshoo! Asshoo! Isshhoo!" He felt the world spin and somebody take his arm and sit him down in a chair. He was blinded by tears and his throat felt about ready to close. He rubbed his nose fiercely, but the tickle only flared up again. "Ich- A-CHOO! IThcoo! Hisshoo! Ki-ach-choo! Li-Hisshoo! Lilad... hisshoo! I'b adlerib to lilad. Hisshoo!" He blew his nose wetly, but the congestion remained. He was starting to feel physically ill, and concentrated on letting the sneezing come, but keeping lunch down.
With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore made the tea disappear. Hermione opened the window and started fanning the air. Within minutes, the air had cleared ad Remus' head was starting to do the same. Hermione heated the water in the pitcher and placed a soaked handkerchief on his forehead.
"Thank you," Remus said, after a fashion. "I'm much better now." He handed the bottle of Pepper Up to Dumbledore, who took it immediately.
"Thank you. Do you have anything you'd like to tell me?"
Remus sat up. Filius is ill, sir. And Severus is still in a bad way. Myself, I'll be leaving for my...vacation tomorrow."
"Thank you, Remus. Please be careful and enjoy your trip."
"I shall endeavor to make it memorable sir."
"Where are you going?" Hermione asked, earnestly.
"Just to my home, in Dover. I have some family obligations. I'll be back shortly though."
Snape was lying on the long leather couch that was housed in his laboratory. A useless piece of furniture that he'd fought Remus every step of the way on, suddenly made perfect sense. "Iiaassshoo!" he head snapped forward as he sneezed freely. His head still pounded with congestion, but his heart ached with loneliness. He wasn't sure which hurt worse.
He laid back on the couch and coughed. The Flu-Be-Gone had done it's just well. As soon as he'd gotten ill, the symptoms began to relieve themselves. His vertigo went away as his fever went down. Congestion sill caused him to cough, sneeze and sniffle – and the sniffles caused his head to pound. He felt drained and vulnerable. And he hated it.
But, he was also concerned for Remus. He felt guilty that he'd been too ill to craft the wofsbane potion. And, worse, that he was too ill to go with Reums, as he'd done in the past. He feared for the safety of his friend and lover, knowing the ferocity of the self hatred that overwhelmed Remus each transformation.
"I-i-IAASHOO!" hi sneezed freely again. He blew his nose and sighed in relieve as some of the pressure released. But, the tickle was still there. He rubbed his nose as he watched the door slowly open.
"I'm glad to see your feeling better," Remus said smiling.
"I've missed do," the tickle spread to the other side of his nose.
"I know, but I had to be sure everybody else was okay too. You know I'll always return to you."
"I doe." Severus was biting back the sneeze, but it was growing in force.
"Sneeze, love. Don't torture yourself on my account."
Severus opened his mouth to protest, when the sneeze shot forward, " IK-HA-CHOO!" He sneezed freely. "Oh, excuse be."
"It's alright, my pet," Remus said sitting down next to him. He felt his forehead and smiled. "Your fever's down quite a bit. Are you hungry?"
Severus' stomach lurched. "No, not yet."
Remus leaned over and snuggled in. He felt Severus put his arms around him and hold him tightly. They drifted off to sleep together.
The next night, Remus apparated in the Shrieking Shack. Slowly, he felt the transformation overtake him. His senses heightened and he could hear the house settling as is vibrated beneath his now deforming feet. He smelled the crisp air as it swirled around him and ruffled his fur. The fire burned behind his eyes and he felt the tingle begin in his stomach and rise through his hate filled soul. As the feeling rose the clouds shifted away from the moon and he let out a long howl – full of loneliness and anguish. His instincts settling into place, he smelled the scent of fear within the house – somebody was there. `How dare they,' the wolf thought. He sniffed throughout the house, but couldn't find anything. A few times he was sure he smelled a tasty snack of human flesh, but he couldn't see anything.
Harry watched from beneath his invisibility cloak. He moved only when he needed to and though that breathing was terribly overrated. He'd come to the shack to be away from the school – just for 1 night. Nobody know he had gone, but he wondered if they'd notice if he never came back.
Suddenly, the werewolf stopped. He seemed to pick up on another scent. Like a bat of Hell, he tore from the shack towards Hogsmeade. `I've got to stop him before he does something terrible,' Harry thought as he started running after him. He knew that Lupin would hate himself if he did anything while in this state. He remembered Lupin once saying that there was a time when his mother was there for him, when nobody else was. He wondered how closely, in his mother's footsteps, he was following.
As he ran towards Hogsmeade and internal struggle was raging. The werewolf wanted food – flesh. It wanted to smell the fear and taste the blood as it slid off of his canines and dripped to the ground. Remus wanted the hatred to stop. He wanted to turn back to the shack. He wasn't hungry for anyone's demise, but his own. He tried to veer the werewolf into a rock or a tree, but without the wolfsbane he was powerless to resist.
Harry watched as the werewolf ran further and further away from him. He wished he could apparaet, but he couldn't. He had no broom and no other method of alerting Hogsmeade. Then it dawned on him. He waved his want at his feet and said, "Proparo." In an instant, he started to run at a lightening quick pace. As he came over the last hill, he saw the werewolf run headlong into Hogsmeade. He waved his wand at his feet and said, "Subsisto." He slowly felt his feet coming out of the run. The momentum would take him to the edge of Hogsmeade, at least. Less than 20 seconds later, he was within the city, surrounded by screams and panic.
"Where is he?" Harry yelled, to no one in particular.
A few people pointed, and told him he was going the wrong way when he headed toward the werewolf. He didn't see any blood, so he though it was safe to assume the werewolf hadn't bitten anyone, yet. Then Harry saw him. There were several villagers with pitchforks and wands at the ready, holding him against a wall. The werewolf was ravenous and snarling.
Harry drew his wand. "Immobulous!" he shouted as he pointed at the scene. The entire group froze in place. He carefully moved the wizards out of the way and started to move the werewolf.
"Hey kid, what are you doing?" said a voice in the crowd.
"Taking him back where he belongs."
A woman, with her wand at the ready, started yelling that werewolves were better off dead, and so were the people who defend them. Panicked, Harry raised his wand and yelled, "Domesticus duod eviginti hora somnium!" HE'd read about the charm in one of Hermione's books and he's hoped he pronounced it correctly. A dome like shade appeared over Hogsmeade and slowly all of the villages – including the werewolf – fell asleep. Harry seemed to be the only one not affected. `Oh, this ought to be fun,' Harry thought.
Remus felt sunlight on his face and the coolness of a wash cloth on his brow. He knew that he wasn't in the dungeon, but, for the life of him, he couldn't figure of where he was. He opened his eyes and immediately recognized his surroundings: Grimmauld Place. "How'd I get here?" he muttered. Almost immediately, his nose began to tickle. He closed his eyes to try to shut out the sneezes, but to no avail. "Isshoo! Achoo! Asshoo! Isshoo! Istchoo! Ka-chiff! Isshiff! Ha-he-he- h-Achesshiff!" When he opened his eyes Harry was standing next to him, holding a handkerchief up to his face.
"Go ahead, Professor, blow." Uneasily, Remus blew his nose into the handkerchief that Harry was holding for him.
"Dank you." He sniffed and felt like his head was going to split open. He winced in pain.
Harry fidgeted like he wanted to say something, but stood there – looking guilty. He had performed the sleep spell correctly, and according to Dumbledore, adding the dome was incredibly advanced. But, putting it on Remus, while in wolf form, froze his muscles so thoroughly that the transformation back caused him physical harm. It was temporary – but Harry couldn't forgive himself for hurting him...even if it was to save his life. Watching him, in this much pain, and knowing he had caused it, was too much for Harry to bear.
"What happened, Harry?" Remus asked.
Harry sate down on the edge of the bed. "Well, it happened like this," he started. He watched Lupin's nose twitch and grabbed a fresh handkerchief.
"I-AH SHOO!" Harry caught the sneeze just in time. "I'm so sorry, Harry," Remus whispered after he blew his nose again.
"No, Professor, this is all my fault."
"What do you mean your fault?"
Harry swallowed. Dumbledore had been specific that Harry was to tell nobody but those he trusted most. He told Dumbledore, who told Snape and McGonagall, Hagrid and the Weasleys. He didn't want to tell Ron or Hermione. But, in Grimmauld Place he was never sure where the house elf was, or who had extendable ears. But, Lupin had been there. Even if he had no memory of it, he deserved to know the truth.
Harry pulled out the Daily Profit and put it face up on Lupins' lap. The whole town looked like it was just waking up after a huge camp out. Hogsmeade Dreams of Werewolf Attack and The Boy Who Saved Them. Lupin felt his blood pressure drop. "What's that have to do with me, Harry?" he asked as nonchalantly as he could muster.
"Last night, I went to the Shrieking Shack for some alone time," Harry began. Lupins' stomach lurched and he gagged. Harry reached for the wastebasket and stroked his hair back until Lupins' stomach had settled. "I-I'm s-s-sorry Harry," Lupin quivered. "I'm just s-so dizzy."
Harry poured some water onto a handkerchief and pressed it up against Lupin's forehead. "I'm sorry, Professor. Perhaps I should wait until another time." Lupin wanted to disagree, but before he could, sleep overtook him.
When Lupin awoke, Harry was asleep in an armchair. His face was contorted as if he was having a bad dream. Lupin understood the concept. He reached over and shook Harry's knee. Harry awoke with a start. "Professor, are you alright?"
"I will be," Lupin responded. He looked at his chest and arms. His wounds had been dresses – and redressed, but the looks of it. He stared at Harry. He noticed a long scratch down Harry's face, and he wondered how many more had been hidden. "Harry, who did that?" he asked, pointing at the scratch.
Harry was apprehensive. "It's nothing, Professor. Just a scratch. I must have had a bad dream."
"A-hisshoo!" Turning his head away from Harry, Lupin sneezed freely. "Excuse me." He looked back at Harry, "Harry, I must know – when did it happen?" `I didn't do it. Please tell me I didn't do it,' he thought to himself.
"At sun up. Just after I got you here. When I was trying to dress your chest. Y-you were in a great deal of pain. Professor Snape came in and pushed me aside. You were flailing about a bit and I got scratched."
"And Severus' response?"
"Yelling at me for being incompetent, of course."
Lupin shook his head. "I'm so sorry." He was apologizing for Snape's behavior, but Harry would never understand that.
"It's not your fault, Professor. My dressings were poor. I'd never done them before."
"Where is he now?"
"Downstairs. Professor Snape, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Professor Flitwick are all downstairs. They thought I should be the one to tell you what happened." Harry took a deep breath and told him the whole story. "...I can't help but wonder if my mother would have done something like this," he finished.
Lupin was shocked. "They both would have – and did." Harry gave him a lopsided grin. "I'll let you get some more rest now," he said as he headed for the door. He stopped when he got there. "Professor, when I graduate, and you're not my teacher anymore – may I look to you as an Uncle? You were one of my parents best friend – and my strongest tie to them. I mean, if you don't want to, I'll understand. But –..."
"I'd be honored," Lupin interjected.
Harry smiled. "Do you want to see people now?"
"Not right now. I just want to go to sleep - and dream."
Kinda before order of the phoenix. But doesn't quite fit the timeline. These characters, settings, etc is JK Rowlings. The Alice in Wonderland stuff is Lewis Carroll. I'm the one who made the connection.