A/N: And here we are “ the final flashback. A quiet chapter of reflection…
18: Waiting
Blankets. Warmth. Quiet. The dull stain of dawn light against his eyelids.
Rey smiled. He loved waking up at home.
Was Diana up already? Would he find breakfast waiting on the table, the soft hum of his wife’s voice as she set the morning table? Or would they both be awoken by a sudden impatient visit from Remus as he scrambled up the foot of the bed and bounced cheerfully between his parents with a cheeky smile until sleep was a forgotten dream?
Gently he extended his left hand in search of the presence of his wife and encountered crisp tightly tucked sheets and the edge of the mattress.
What the…?
And then he realised the pain. The itching throb that ran the length of his left leg. The bruised catch of his ribs. The sharp sting across his shoulder. The pounding of his skull.
Memories flooded through his mind. The chase. Hel. Bevan soaked in blood. His sleeping son. His smiling wife. A flare of the fireplace. Kane. Abel. The poker. The forest. The wolf. The hospital. Obliviate.
Remus.
Rey burst into consciousness.
A firm hand slapped against his shoulder, forcing him back against his pillows. Diana’s pale face, framed in dark curls, filled his vision. Her smile was tentative.
“Lie back down,” she said softly, her voice a whisper. “You’re exhausted and hurt. Considering the amount of blood you lost, Healer Jarvin says it’s astonishing you didn’t keel over long before you did.”
“Remus.” Rey was not to be deflected. Dawn light was creeping through the curtains that shrouded the high window towards the far end of the ward; surely they must know by now…. “What’s happened? Is he…?”
Diana’s expression clouded slightly. ”He hasn’t woken yet. Jarvin topped up her spell with a sleeping draught just to be sure.” Her eyes flickered with a pain that Rey wished he could only imagine. “We’ll know in an hour or so.”
She glanced to the bed on Rey’s left. Her husband followed her gaze.
A small figure lay dwarfed in the large hospital bed a couple of yards away. He had been cleaned up at least, the dirt, grime and blood washed from his body, the tattered and bloodied remains of his pyjamas stripped away to be replaced by a simple hospital gown. His brown hair, half buried in the large pillow, swept with surprising neatness across his forehead, arranged, Rey suspected, by the constant gentle stroke of Diana’s hand throughout the night. His skin was pale, too pale, his face almost mockingly serene. His eyes remained closed.
“They wanted to put him in a private room.” Diana’s voice was all but a whisper. “Hide him away from everyone in case... But I asked them “ how could they expect me to choose between the bedside of my husband and my son? So Jarvin arranged for this little ward to be emptied instead. So I could sit with both of you.”
Poor Diana. What a night it had been for her. The peace of her happy home shattered, her beloved son abducted, bitten and facing a fight for his sanity and to top it off, her husband collapsing unconscious. There was no measure by which she deserved such a fortune.
Dragging his aching arms from beneath his coverlet and ignoring his wife’s brief flash of indignation at his action, Rey pulled himself half-upright and engulfed Diana in his arms.
She burst into tears.
It took a good ten or fifteen minutes for Diana’s storm of weeping to pass. Rey did not relax his embrace for an instant, clutching his wife’s head against his shoulder as she sobbed herself dry, holding back his own tears only out of a need to remain coherent enough to offer comfort. Diana had been forced to be strong when he passed out. Now she needed release and it was his turn.
Finally, finally, Diana ran out of tears to cry. She nestled her damp face against the crook of his neck as he rubbed her back comfortingly, his fingers drawing little circles between her shoulder blades. Her breath whispered against the tear-soaked wetness of his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured at last. “I thought I was stronger than this.”
Rey closed his eyes as he tightened his hold. “Don’t be stupid. What’s happened would have tested anyone. I think you’re entitled to a bit of a cry.”
There was a muffled half-hearted snort. “You call this a bit of a cry? Reynard Lupin, master of understatement, strikes again.”
Diana making silly remarks. A touch of normality briefly invaded this most abnormal of situations. But elusive and quick, it was rapidly gone.
Slowly, her hair a brush of silk against his throat and cheek, Diana drew back, stroking her husband’s arms with her fingers as she wordlessly rested her forehead against his.
“Rey,” she murmured softly, her eyes betraying a deep anxiety and a desperate fear. “I’ve been thinking. I’ve had all night to think, to do nothing but think. And I just can’t stop wondering…I can’t help but realise…” She sighed deeply, her fingertips redoubling their efforts as her gaze slipped down to the bedclothes to escape her husband’s gaze. “Even if Remus is still… Even if he’s himself when he wakes…” She bit her lip, hesitating yet again as she tried to articulate the one fact that neither parent truly wanted to face. “Whatever happens when Remus comes round, we can’t escape the fact that he’s going to be… Rey, our son was bitten. Our son is… Is…”
“A werewolf.” Rey too had dropped his gaze, his own composure difficult to maintain in the face of the flush of mirroring emotions that flooded his wife’s features. “I know.”
Had it not been for the fact that her tear ducts were dry, Rey was certain tears would have been once again falling from the eyes of his wife. As it was, her pain was instead translated into her features.
“They’ll be arrangements.” Diana was all but gritting her teeth as she struggled by force to be practical in the face of turbulent emotion. “He’ll have to be registered, of course. I was worried for a while about whether his… turn… in the hospital would have to be reported too, but Healer Jarvin says she and her staff won’t mention it if we don’t. The Ministry don’t react kindly to werewolves that… And Jarvin says she could never condemn an innocent child if it can be avoided.” She smiled wanly. “She’s a good woman.”
Rey nodded silently, rubbing his forehead against his wife’s curls. He didn’t trust himself to speak.
“And then we have to think about what to do when we take him home.” Diana ploughed on with the agonising determination of someone who needed to get these words off her chest before she exploded with the force of them. “I was thinking that we could clear all my potion ingredients out of the cellar and let him… let it happen down there. The walls are solid, that window is high and far too small to be squeezed through and we can easily reinforce the door. I can move my things into the cupboard under the stairs and we’ll put the cleaning things in that old chest in the hall instead. I was going to suggest the old lean-to first but then I remembered how strong a werewolf can be. It might do whilst he’s small, but once he gets older, it won’t be able to take the strain, I’m sure. This way seems the best, don’t you think love?”
She was trying so hard to hide the tremble in her voice, discussing the practical ramifications of their son’s newly acquired condition as though it was a simple domestic problem. He knew Diana well enough to realise that this had been the only way she had been able to stay sane through the long night alone “ to try and find something, anything that she could do about it, to ease it, to make the enormous burden of the shattered future they faced just a little less daunting. She needed something tangible to deal with, to occupy her thoughts, something that would prevent her dwelling on the stark truth and house arrangements seemed to be it.
Rey wished with all his heart that it was going to be that simple. His son was a werewolf. The very thought made him feel sick to his stomach. For as long as he could remember the word werewolf had been associated with anger, hatred, bitterness and betrayal, and whether or not those feelings had been justified, he could not simply banish them away. And yet, they were the antithesis of everything he had ever felt in regards to Remus, the little boy who had brought nothing but light into his life. To try and mesh these two polar opposites was simply appalling. And although he knew that his love for his son would always triumph over his werewolf negativity, the adjustment would take time. House arrangements were perhaps a place to start.
Bitter irony kicked in. When the bright side of a situation was the prospect of arranging his house to accommodate his werewolf son, it was unavoidable to consider that life had taken a dire turn indeed.
And that was the best scenario. The worst…
But Diana had already anticipated his thoughts. A night’s worth of brooding had led to coverage of most possibilities.
“But…” The tremble in her tone escaped her iron-tight control in spite of herself. “The next full moon “ the first change “ that’s going to be difficult. He’s rather young to have this explained and he won’t remember being bitten in any case. And there’s no guarantee “ even if he forms a barrier… We can’t know that it will hold out against a second onslaught. If he does slip back… There’s nothing we can do, no more memories to wipe. And that’s if it works.” Her eyes caught her husband’s once more. “Rey, what if we lose him? What if the wolf wins? What are we going to do?”
Rey steeled his jaw. “We do what’s best for him. We… We let him go.”
Diana closed her eyes sharply, blinking back the dry itch of spent tears. “I know. I just needed you to say it.”
* * *
The next hour dragged with agonising slowness. Diana flitted nervously between her twitchy husband and her unconscious son, anxiously slipping from one bed to the other, to her chair, and then up to pace the otherwise empty ward before rushing back once more to the side of her family. Rey was painfully aware that but for his injuries he would have been climbing the walls at her side. In that respect, the straightjacket of hospital sheets was almost a relief.
About twenty minutes after Rey’s return to consciousness, Healer Jarvin reappeared. She examined him thoroughly, checking his bandages and rate of healing, dosing him with a wide selection of potions and performing several minor spells. Then with a sigh, she sat on the edge of his bed and informed him reluctantly that the news about his leg was not good. Even without the delay in his treatment, the wounds had been very severe, damaging muscles, nerves and tendons and the scar tissue, that could not be removed magically due to the toxic nature of werewolf induced injuries, was not going to help his recovery. There was little to no chance that he would ever regain full use of his left leg.
Rey took the news stoically. He was too numb by now to much care.
Healer Jarvin had examined Remus too. His physical injuries, she said, were healing cleanly and well. Any damage to his mind remained to be seen. He would wake, by her estimation, within the hour. She paused to weave a precautionary restrictive spell over his limbs and told them to call her the moment he came round.
Once she had gone, Rey retrieved his wand from his bedside table and determinedly used a spell to scoot his bed over to beside his son’s. He was determined not to be out of reach. Rescuing her chair before her husband could crush it in his zeal to rearrange the furniture, Diana settled on Remus’ other side and gently held his hand.
It was a slow crawling ten minutes later that a slightly limping but otherwise mostly intact Alastor Moody appeared in the entrance to the ward. At Rey’s half-nod to his uncertainty, he slipped inside and made his way over to join them. His eyes fixed on the still form of Remus at once.
“Has he turned?” he ventured softly.
Rey met the dark, sympathetic eyes of his friend. “We’ll know when he wakes.”
“Ah.” Moody knew when to leave a subject well alone. “Well, I come as the bearer of tidings. I’ve good news and bad news for you.”
“Oh?”
With a grunt, Moody dragged another chair across the ward and settled beside Diana. “Well, your bad news is that bloody Abraham bloody-hellfire-cursed Kane seems to got away from us.”
Rey felt his stomach drop. Kane had escaped. Kane, his errant nephew, the man “ the creature “ that had destroyed his son’s future and possibly his sanity was still out there. And with his vengeance so rudely interrupted, who could say that he would not be back….
The exterminator met the gaze of the Auror with firm coldness. “Tell me exactly what good you can find out of that.”
Moody winced slightly at the tone and sighed. “Well, the good news is that he seems to have left the country.”
Both Reynard and Diana stared at the Auror. “How can you possibly be sure of that?” Rey asked incredulously.
Alastor pulled a face. “Because about an hour ago, a naked, battered blood-covered man matching Abraham Kane’s description leaped out of a local connection fireplace at the International Floo Network Terminal, killed two customs officers and hijacked a connection to the continent. He dropped out at a farmhouse near Zagreb, as far as they can trace. We think he broke into a wizarding house in a village over the far side of your mountain not long after dawn and used their fireplace just like he used Bevan’s. We’ve put a stop to that though. I’ve spoken to the Floo Regulation people about this and they put up a marker on Kane’s trace. If he tries to floo back into this country or use any internal connection again, the fireplace he uses will literally blow up in his face. No more sneak attacks for him.” He gave a grizzled grin of satisfaction. “We know he can’t apparate or make portkeys either; he’s had no formal magical training and what talent he has is wild and weak. He’s got a bit of a walk ahead of him if he’s thinking of heading back here.”
“Do you think he will?” There was a tremor of fear to Diana’s tone “ her grasp on Remus tightened noticeably. “Come back here, I mean.”
Moody shook his head. “I doubt it. It was made very clear to him in the course of his chase that the only welcome he can expect in Britain is a healthy amount of violence and a lingering execution. Aurors don’t take well to those who attack innocent children and murder their colleagues. His description is well circulated. Hopefully he’ll show a flash of sense and find a nice quiet corner of Europe to curl up and die in.”
Rey made an attempt at a smile, but he suspected the result was much closer to a grimace than he’d have liked. “Thank you Alastor. For everything.”
Moody shook his head as he rose stiffly to his feet. “Don’t thank me.” He sighed and met his friend’s eyes once again. “I’d best be going.” He hesitated awkwardly. “Your lad’s a strong ‘un, Rey. He’ll pull through. Diana.”
“Alastor.” Diana replied with a nod, saving Rey the trouble of finding more words. With a final half smile, Moody retreated from the ward once more.
And the wait resumed.
It was Diana who noticed first. Rey had all but dropped off, his head lolling on his pillow, his eyelids drooping as the exhaustion of the last few days caught up with him, when suddenly he was jerked into wakefulness by a little half gasp from his wife. Diana was staring down at the little hand she grasped with surprise and sudden dread, her features a contrasting mix of hopefulness and fear.
“He moved!” she breathed, her eyes snapping up. “Rey, he moved! His hand twitched!”
Rey scrambled onto his elbows, ignoring the pulse of pain that shot through his ribs and shoulder as he drew his wand from beneath his pillow and leaned from his bed onto the adjacent edge of his son’s. A moment later they knew that Diana had not been mistaken for Remus rolled his head against the pillow, his limbs stretching slightly against invisible bonds as he struggled back towards consciousness. But just who “ or what “ would they find when he opened his eyes?
His eyelids fluttered. Diana’s gaze was fixed on her only child in desperate, anxious hope; Rey grasped the edge of the bed, his grip on his wand tightening sharply. Much as he longed to hope for the best, he could not afford to take any chances.
Please be Remus. Please be Remus. Please be Remus.
And then, his eyes slipped open. There was not a hint of gold.
“Mummy?” A half-dozy, distinctly confused little voice split the silence. “Daddy?”
For a moment neither Diana nor Rey could move. They could barely breathe. After so much they had barely dared to believe… Could it be true?
Remus was staring at the unfamiliar surroundings in confusion, his small face creased by the sudden realisation of pain. His lip trembled.
“It hurts,” he murmured, his tone both deeply bemused and distinctly not happy. “And I feel all funny.”
Mothering instincts overrode shock “ with a cry of utter relief combined with a powerful desire to comfort her confused child, Diana released Jarvin’s spell with a flick of her wand and leaned forward, wrapping her son up in her arms and stroking his hair as she clasped him against her. The disconcertion melted from Remus’ face at the familiar proximity of his mummy “ with a little sniff he buried himself reassuringly into the cuddle. In spite of the fact that he was clearly in some pain from his bite wound and had yet to realise just how his innocuously christened funny feeling was going to change his life, he managed a little smile.
Rey stared at them, simply stared, drinking in the sight that he had feared so deeply he might never see again, his little boy snuggled contentedly in the comforting arms of his mother. Gently he reached out a hand and stroked it along his son’s shoulder.
He did it. He won. My little boy. He won.
We’re going to be all right.
And he knew it. Oh yes, the future they faced was difficult; they were by no means out of the woods that Kane had plunged them into. There would be challenges, many challenges ahead, the bright and easy life he had dreamt of for his son lost with the snap of wolfish jaws. And there was still the uncertainty of the next full moon.
But they were still together. They were still a family. They still had each other. And they would beat those challenges. They would be fine. Remus would be fine.
He was sure of it.