Remus mumbled the word, his cheek pressed uncomfortably against the gritty floorboards. He squinted against the daylight, dim though it was, and rubbed his pounding head. Every muscle burned and ached as usual, but his mind felt strangely at rest. There were no haunting remnants of madness or fear; instead, he remembered invigoration... and an odd sense of fulfilment.
“Sirius?” he tried again, anxious to hear what had happened during the night. A tiny movement in the corner of his vision caught his attention. Blinking his eyes into focus, he saw a dark red line of blood winding a path through the dust mere inches in front of him. His eyes followed the trickle to its source, finally coming to rest upon the dog lying several feet away, unmoving.
“Oh, shit! Sirius!” Remus got to his knees faster than he thought possible and bent over his friend, ignoring the sharp pain and dizziness that threatened to make him black out again. “Are you all right? Transform! Say something!”
The dog whimpered faintly but still did not move. Remus shook him gently by the shoulders and felt wet, matted clumps in the thick fur. He pulled his hands back and stared with growing dread at the blood dripping from them.
“No... I didn’t...” Remus moaned. Though he knew he couldn't have passed on his lycanthropy as long as Sirius had been in animal form when bitten, that did nothing to assuage the threat of serious, even fatal, injury. “Sirius, wake up!”
With a grunt, the dog melted into the form of a severely battered human. Remus's stomach dropped at the sight of the now-visible injuries. Sirius was covered with long scratches and tears, most of them bleeding profusely, some deep enough to show what looked horribly like muscle. His eyes opened halfway and then hazily focused on Remus.
“I was right,” Sirius said hoarsely, smiling through bleeding lips. “I'm bigger. But I'll give you meaner.”
Exhaling a rush of air, Remus pushed down the panic that had risen in his chest. “Don't move,” he ordered, his voice shaking slightly. “I can take care of this.”
“It's not that bad,” Sirius mumbled, but Remus ignored him. He took a quick survey of the wounds, thankful to find that most were only on the limbs, and began chanting “Episkey” over the worst injuries first. They didn't heal completely, but at least the blood was not flowing as freely as it had been. He moved on to the more moderate scratches which, he was relieved to see, closed more effectively.
“What happened, Sirius? Why didn't you Apparate?” Remus demanded after he finished the last spell.
“Because I was fine,” Sirius said obstinately. “I am fine.”
“You are not fine; you're a bloody mess! Rule number two, you were supposed to Apparate if you got too hurt!” Remus said, an edge rising in his voice. He located the half-empty bottle of whisky and poured some onto the hem of his robes, then began wiping away the streaked blood.
“I'm alive, aren't I?” Sirius countered, inhaling sharply as the alcohol dripped into his cuts. “They're just a few scratches; you're making a fuss over nothing.”
“Would you bloody well look at yourself?” Remus shouted, throwing his robe down in frustration. “I almost tore you apart! How could you let me do this to you?”
Sirius was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, “I didn't want to leave you. You would have done this to yourself if I weren't there.”
Remus instantly felt terrible and regretted his outburst. “I'm sorry. I’m so sorry, I just never wanted to hurt you like this.”
After he’d finished cleaning the blood away, Sirius didn't look as ghastly. Most of his wounds were tenuously healed, and Remus had bound the rest tightly with strips of whisky-soaked fabric severed from his robes.
“Can you walk?” Remus asked.
“Of course I can,” Sirius groaned and pushed himself up onto his elbows. “But out of curiosity, do you happen to know any counter-curses for being beaten with a furry club?”
“No counter-curses, but this should help the pain,” Remus said, offering him the last of the firewhisky.
Sirius's scratched face broke into a grin and he drained the bottle in one long swallow. “Drinking before breakfast? Remus Lupin, you're a bad influence.”
As they trudged back through the tunnel to Hogwarts, both moving rather more slowly than they had the day before, Remus observed Sirius’s uneven gait with a heavy mind. Every limp reminded Remus of how irresponsible he'd been; he of all people should have known that his transformations were far too dangerous for company, Animagi or not. He’d gotten caught up in his friends’ excitement and let them convince him that they would be safe, but in the harsh reality of morning, the truth was clear. He couldn't allow any of them to spend the full moon with him again. If he could trust them to run when they needed to, it might be different, but Sirius was not the only one with a foolishly overwrought hero complex.
After letting that thought circle his mind for a moment, Remus sighed inwardly. He was being was unfair. Foolish or not, Sirius's reckless disregard for his own safety had allowed Remus to wake up with peace of mind, something that sounded small but had previously been unthinkable. And the sacrifice Sirius had made to grant him that... Remus couldn't throw away such a generous gift.
So instead, you'll repay him by ripping out his throat, his conscience nagged him.
Wishing only for a distraction from his conflicting thoughts, Remus was relieved to see the end of the tunnel appear. When the ceiling grew high enough, Sirius transformed back to human form, his face tinged with grey but lit with exhilaration.
“I'll see you later,” he said cheerily, beginning to duck underneath the invisibility cloak. “We'll come visit this afternoon after you've had a rest.”
Remus shook his head as he took the cloak out Sirius's hands. “No, you won't. I'm going with you.”
“But you need to go to the Hospital Wing,” Sirius said with a puzzled expression.
“No, you need to go to the Hospital Wing, but seeing as that would get you expelled, I'm going back with you to finish healing you properly,” Remus informed him.
“James and Peter-”
“James and Peter don't know the healing spells as well as I do,” Remus said practically. “And besides, if you went back alone, you'd tell them you're fine and don't need any help, wouldn't you?”
Sirius twitched his lips, clearly debating whether or not to argue against the obvious. Finally, he relented with a mock glare. “You're really killing the adventure, you know that?”
Remus just gave him a wry smile before throwing the cloak over both of them. “Better it than you.”
The moment Remus swung the door open into the dorm, he noticed several unusual things. There were books strewn all over the floor, and they were actually open to various pages as if they'd been read. Also, Peter was wide awake and fully-dressed, though it was only just past sunrise on a Saturday morning. But most perplexingly, James was sprawled face-down on the floor with a pillow over his head.
“Looks like we weren't the only ones with an interesting night,” Remus muttered to Sirius, who chuckled. At the sound of his voice, Peter's wide eyes darted up from James to the area where they stood.
“You're back!” he cried. “James, they're back!”
James jerked his head up just enough so that his eyes were visible, keeping the pillow firmly in place like a hat. “Thank Merlin! You've gotta help me; I don't know what to do! We've been up all night and nothing's worked! I've got Quidditch today! QUIDDITCH!!”
“Whoa, James, calm down! What happened?” Sirius asked, lifting off the invisibility cloak and tossing it aside. As it fell to the floor, so did Peter's jaw. Sirius face had turned sickly ashen during the walk back and was covered with a light sheen of sweat, his angry gashes standing out in stark relief.
“Bloody hell, Sirius! You got mangled!” Peter said in a hushed voice.
“What happened to you?” James said sharply, sitting upright with a start and letting the pillow fall from atop his head to the ground.
Speechless, Remus just stared at James. There was something so odd, so very wrong about the way he looked, that it took Remus a moment to comprehend what he was seeing. Where James's thick shock of black hair usually stuck up, now only a gleaming white scalp shone back at them. Just as Remus managed to wrap his mind around that, Sirius let out a guffaw and exclaimed, “I might ask you the same thing!”
James's face went red, though unfortunately it didn't extend above his forehead. “Forget that for now,” he said with obvious effort. “Are you all right?”
Ignoring the question, Sirius stepped forward and tentatively poked at the top of James's head. “Did you do it on purpose? I know there's that one seventh year who shaves his head, but honestly, with your skin colour-”
“No, I didn't bloody do it on purpose!” James exploded. “Now tell me what happened! Couldn't you Apparate?”
Sirius shrugged and limped over to his bed, easing himself onto the rumpled sheets with a wince. “Didn't need to. The wolf got a few licks in, but I was never in any real danger. Besides, what kind of adventure would it be if I didn't come back with a few scars?”
“A few?” James said incredulously. “You look like a jigsaw puzzle!”
Sirius just laughed. “It looks worse than it is. And speaking of looking worse, are you going to tell me what happened to your hair or not? Was it an accident with the Animagus spells?”
James glowered and shook his head, his lips beginning to disappear as he clenched his jaw. Peter glanced at him, nodding slightly to prompt a response, but when no elaboration came, he filled the others in. “It was Snape.”
Sirius's eyes narrowed at the name as Peter went on. “Cowardly bastard hit him in the back after dinner and disappeared around a corner. He knew he couldn't take James in a fair fight.”
“Damn right he couldn't, and he's going to pay for it when I find him,” Sirius growled, already pushing himself up from the bed. As he rose, Remus spotted streaks of red on the sheets beneath him and realized with a sinking sensation that the temporary healing spells had begun to fail.
“You need to lie down!” Remus ordered, but his words went unheeded.
“You think I'm going to let that rat get away with this?” Sirius demanded. He struggled to his feet, leaving Remus to decide whether or not he had the energy to stop him. Luckily, James stepped in instead, with force to spare.
“Sirius!” he barked. “You're pale as death and you're bleeding everywhere! What are you going to do when you find Snape, pass out at his feet?”
“No,” Sirius retorted, wobbling towards the door. “I’m going to tie him to the front doors, vanish his filthy robes, and hit him with a Shrinking spell right in the””
But before he could finish the threat, Sirius’s knees gave way and he slumped against a bedpost, the last hint of colour draining from his face. James pulled his wand out at once and caught him with a Levitation charm before he hit the floor.
“Put me down!” Sirius protested feebly as his limp body rose into the air.
“No,” James said, directing him across the room and lowering him back onto the bed. He stood over Sirius with his wand still aimed at him, his show of annoyance not quite covering the worry in his eyes. “Now stay there or I’ll put you in a full body bind!”
Sirius glowered at the threat. “I’m defending your honour!”
“You’re being an idiot!” James snapped back.
With narrowed eyes, Sirius turned his head towards Peter and stage whispered, “He’s mean when he’s bald.” Peter nodded knowingly.
“Just let me find my healing book, Sirius,” muttered Remus, searching through the pile on the floor. “Then you can go do whatever terrible things to Severus you want.”
Once he found the book, he flipped to the well-worn section on animal attack wounds. He used to have to consult it often, preferring to heal himself at home rather than face the pitiless town Healer. However, he hadn't needed to do nearly as much on his own since coming to Hogwarts and Madam Pomfrey's care.
While he read, James sat on the edge of the bed and glared at Sirius's injuries. Sirius eyed him back defensively and crossed his bandaged arms, as if daring him to yell again. After an edgy silence, James finally asked in a subdued voice, “So what was it like, anyway? Seeing an actual werewolf?”
It was an apology, and Sirius accepted it with a grin. “Brilliant,” he said. “Best fight of my life. Remus went stark raving mad when he first saw me. It was a nice change, actually, being the rational one for once. He was hell-bent on killing me for a while, but he eventually eased up and started enjoying himself.”
Intrigued by the account that he'd forgotten he wanted to hear, Remus looked up from his book. “I did?”
“Oh yeah, I could tell,” Sirius said. “You were still attacking me, but you stopped giving me that slavering fangs look and you were even prancing around a bit at the end. Don't you remember? You were having fun.”
Remus paused, recalling his sense of fulfilment upon awakening and the curious fragments of playful memories. Though he didn't want to encourage Sirius to repeat the episode, he had to give credit where it was due. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Yeah, I think I was.”
Sirius grinned again. “Next time will be even better. I bet you’ll remember me and won’t have such a bug up your arse about my being there.”
Remus doubted that very much, but reckoned it wasn’t the time to bring it up. Instead, he took one more glance at his book, making sure he had the incantations memorized, and joined the others at the bed.
“I've only performed these spells on myself before,” Remus cautioned, “and they won't be as good as Madam Pomfrey's work, but they'll do.”
“I'm sure it'll be fine. What's the worst that could happen?” Sirius shrugged.
“According to this, uncontrolled bleeding, organ misalignment and skin vanishings,” Peter helpfully supplied, reading over Remus’s shoulder and bugging his eyes out at the illustrations. Remus snapped the book shut and thrust it at James.
“Keep this away from him, will you?” he muttered under his breath. Then, turning back to Sirius, who looked rather stricken, Remus said, “Don’t worry, the worst I’ve ever done is given myself a few scars.”
“Who’s worried?” Sirius said defiantly, but he still shot an anxious glance down at his arms as if he might never see them again.
Remus smiled with attempted reassurance. Even though he was confident that he wouldn’t end up vanishing Sirius’s skin, he was growing nervous. Not only was he healing someone else for the first time, it was one of his best friends, and his victim as well. If he couldn't set things right, if he only made what he'd done worse...
Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he focused his attention upon Sirius's worst injury, a gaping slash that ran from shoulder to elbow. Remus carefully unwrapped the makeshift bandage around it; the moment that the pressure was released, blood began to flow freely from the wound again. He felt both James and Peter tense behind him, but they remained quiet.
“Confuto sanguis.”
Remus spoke the words distinctly, sweeping his wand in a moving wave over Sirius's arm. The stream of blood slowed slightly, but not enough, so Remus repeated the incantation, concentrating harder. This time, the blood was held back to a trickle and Remus was able to see inside the wound. James let out a low gasp, looking inside of it as well. “Is that his…?”
“Bicep, yes,” Remus said evenly. “It’s torn; I need to mend it before I can close the skin.”
Sirius’s eyes went wide and he immediately lifted his head to get a better look. His expression sickened at the sight, and when the ragged edges of his muscle began joining together under Remus’s wandwork, his head flopped heavily back onto the pillow.
Remus glanced with concern at Sirius’s pallid forehead, which had begun to glisten with sweat again. “Maybe you shouldn’t watch,” he advised. Sirius just nodded, looking ill.
“I think he’s going to throw up,” Peter whispered to James, who elbowed him in the ribs. Sirius heard and threw Peter a dirty look before pointedly turning his head back to watch the surgery. He maintained an expression of detached interest until a spurt of blood escaped the binding spell, at which point he looked faint again.
“Now he’s going to throw up into his arm!” Peter whispered even more quietly and urgently.
“Would you shut it already? You’re distracting Remus!” James hissed, while Sirius clenched his jaw and growled, “Peter, I swear I’m going to”“
“Orexis,” Remus interrupted, pointing his wand at Sirius’s stomach. “There, feel better?”
“What did you do?” Sirius said suspiciously.
“Anti-nausea charm.”
Sirius exhaled impatiently and cast a challenging glare around the room. “Damn it, I wasn’t going to throw up!” But he did look much healthier.
Remus began the complicated wand movements over Sirius's arm again, watching the muscle become whole before speaking the next incantation for the skin above it. Finally, when the last layer of skin had knitted back together, Remus let out a long-held breath and couldn't help but smile proudly at the mere pink line that remained.
“Give it a try,” he said. Sirius lifted his arm carefully, flexed the muscle, and declared, “Perfect! It feels just like normal!”
James let out a whoop of relief and Peter clapped his hands exuberantly.
“I don't think it's even going to scar!” Peter exclaimed. “Wow, Remus, you could be a Healer!”
“Thanks,” Remus grinned, but a corner of his excitement was dampened by that thought. He had about as much chance of becoming a Healer as he did becoming Minister for Magic. Choosing not to dwell on that, he admired his work a bit longer before telling Sirius to lie back down. He'd successfully healed one wound, but there were plenty more to go.
It took another full hour of intense concentration before Remus finally set his wand down. There were a few minor scratches left, which Remus was willing to finish, but Sirius assured him that they were small enough to heal the normal way. “Besides, James needs us now,” Sirius reminded him.
Remus glanced over at James, who had wandered away after the surgery became superficial and was now rubbing his smooth head mournfully in front of the mirror.
“We're finished, James, time to grow your hair back!” Sirius called out.
James face brightened with relief. “You are? Are you sure? I don't want to rush you, you know. I mean, you were nearly killed and I just have-”
“Trust me,” Sirius interrupted. “You have the undisputed title of ‘Worst Off In The Room’ right now.”
James looked dubious as to the honour of the title, but accepted it nonetheless. “But you can fix this, right?” he asked, turning to Remus. “I mean, you just put Sirius back together without a scar. This has got to be easier than that, right?”
The sight of bald James looking up at him with such an earnestly hopeful expression made Remus’s heart sink. “I don't know,” he was forced to admit. “There's nothing in my books about growing back hair. I assume you’ve looked through everything in the library; charms, potions, transfiguration spells?”
“Yeah, I spent hours looking up spells, but none of them helped,” Peter said.
“And how long until the Quidditch game?”
“Four hours, twenty minutes,” James answered so promptly that Remus was sure he'd been keeping one eye on the clock all morning.
Remus sighed; there was only one option left and he knew it wouldn't be well-received. “You don't have much time, James, and I honestly don't know what to do. You may have to bite the bullet and go see Madam Pomfrey.”
“No!” James said instantly. “I'm not leaving this room. No one's going to see me like this!”
“Madam Pomfrey's not going to care. Do you know how many people she's seen in worse states? At least you don't have to take your clothes off to show her what's wrong,” Remus reasoned. “Just put a hood or your cloak on to go down to the wing and then have her put you behind a... curtain...”
Remus trailed off, struck with a passing sense of déjà vu. His mind went back several months into a memory that had just been reawakened by that image.
“What?” James insisted after he couldn't bear the silence any longer.
“That reminds me,” Remus recalled, “last year, in the spring, a girl came in to the Hospital Wing with a hooded cloak on and Madam Pomfrey put her in a curtained bed.”
“Was she bald?” James asked eagerly.
“She must have been; I didn't actually see her, but I remember their conversation,” Remus said, perking up as the memory came back clearer. “Madam Pomfrey brought her a potion and told her to drink just as much as she needed until her hair returned to normal.”
At this point, James looked as if he were barely restraining himself from falling at Remus's feet. “The potion! What was the potion?” he sputtered.
Remus closed his eyes, attempting to take himself back to the day. He'd just woken up, a breeze was blowing in that smelled liked rain, and Madam Pomfrey walked past his bedside carrying a...
“Clear bottle, lavender liquid,” Remus declared finally. “That's all I remember, but I think I'd recognize it if I saw it.”
James punched a fist into the air and shouted, “Brilliant!! You've got to go down and find it!”
“I'll do my best, but I'll need the cloak,” Remus said. “If Madam Pomfrey sees me down there, she’ll never let me leave.”
“You can’t stay away too much longer, though,” Peter pointed out. “She’ll probably ask Dumbledore to start a search party if you don’t show up soon. I’ll go with you; I can bring the potion back.”
Remus considered this; he didn’t feel as bad as he usually did and would much rather have stayed to see James through to the end, but he knew Peter was right. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “But if the potion doesn't work, or if we can't even find it, promise me that you'll come down to the wing, James!”
James pulled a stubborn face, but Sirius spoke up for him, “Don’t worry. If it doesn't work, I’m sure we'll figure something out.”
Unconvinced, Remus just nodded, knowing that nothing could change James's mind once it was set, and settled for just hoping he'd make the rational choice. Peter swept up the Invisibility Cloak off the floor and darted out of the dorm, while Remus bid a quick goodbye and wearily followed him.
“You should have seen it,” Peter said conspiratorially as soon as Remus caught up to him in the common room. “I've never seen James so furious! He didn't sleep a bit all night long, calling Snape every foul name he could think of. And the more counter-curses that failed, the worse he got.”
“I can imagine,” Remus said cynically. “I'm sure James will come up with something worse to do to Severus in revenge. And then Severus will come up with something worse than that, and on and on it will go until one of them is dead before graduation.”
“Well, I know who I've got my money on,” Peter smirked.
Remus gave him a disapproving glance, but the look Peter returned was such a caricature of innocence that Remus couldn't help but smile. Just before they reached the portrait hole, the door to the girls' dorm creaked open behind them. Remus turned around and felt a mixture of emotions when he saw Lily step out, yawning slightly.
“Morning, Remus! Peter,” she added with a polite nod. “Want to come with me to breakfast? None of the girls are up yet, the lazy cows.”
She laughed a little, but her smile faded when she saw the unease in their expressions.
“We, er...” Peter began weakly.
“We can't,” Remus finished for him. “Thanks, but we've got to go.”
Lily pursed her lips and nodded as she had the night before, but this time she looked more upset than confused. “Of course,” she said coolly. “I get it. You're busy... at eight o’ clock on a Saturday morning.”
“I'm sorry, Lily,” Remus said with far more sincerity than he let show. “I'd really like to, but it's just not a good-”
“I said I get it!” Lily cut him off. “You better go now. You wouldn't want Black and Potter to see you talking to the Slytherin defender, now would you?”
“What?” Remus said, taken aback. “It has nothing to do with that!”
“Then why is this the second time you've avoided me since the day of that fight?” Lily retorted, crossing her arms accusingly.
“I'm not avoiding you!” Remus said, his mind wearily protesting the arrival of yet another unexpected snag. “I've just had... a lot going on lately.”
Lily shook her head with disbelief at his paltry explanation. “I should have known you’d take their sides. We’re prefects, Remus, and the school has never been in worse shape! How are we supposed to keep any kind of order if you can’t stand up to”“
“I told you, it has nothing to do with that!” Remus snapped more sharply than he intended.
Lily looked stung, and then her face fell into a hurt expression. “Fine… I guess I just won’t bother you anymore,” she muttered, stalking back towards her dorm.
“Wait, Lily, let me”” Remus started, but the door slammed behind her, cutting him off. Remus swore under his breath, and Peter gave him a curious sideways glance.
“Er... are you and her...?”
“No,” Remus said flatly. “Not at all.”
Any hopes that Remus had of avoiding more unpleasant confrontations were dashed when he approached the Hospital Wing and spotted Severus and Calder skulking by the entryway. They straightened up as they saw him coming, and Peter, who had already slipped underneath the invisibility cloak, sniffed scornfully behind him.
“Lupin,” Severus smirked. “You're not the one I expected to see here. But then again, I suppose I should have. Potter does take his vanity to ridiculous levels.”
“I don't know what you're talking about, Severus,” Remus replied disinterestedly.
“Oh, really?” Severus shared a knowing sneer with Calder. “So you're not here to find a cure for Potter's little... problem?
“He doesn't have any problems, as far as I know,” Remus shrugged. “If you two took it upon yourselves to give him one, yet again, he must have already solved it and not found it worth mentioning to me.”
Severus's smug expression faltered a bit, but still he glared at Remus through cold, suspicious eyes. “Then why are you here, if not to get Pomfrey's help for that arrogant prat?”
“That's really none of your business,” Remus said calmly. “Now if you're so interested in seeing James, I suggest you go to the Quidditch game this afternoon. But if you'd rather spend your entire Saturday standing in a doorway instead, then please, don't let me interrupt you.”
He brushed past them into the Hospital Wing, Peter sniggering very softly beside him. But before Remus even had time to worry that he'd been too cocky about the still-uncertain cure, Madam Pomfrey came out of her office, her forehead knitted deeply.
“Remus, it's late! Are you all right?” she demanded.
Severus peered into the wing with interest, but upon seeing him, Madam Pomfrey snapped, “If you're sick, get in. If you're not, find something better to do!”
With a cold frown, Severus wordlessly beckoned Calder and sauntered away, but not before casting one last suspicious glare towards Remus. Madam Pomfrey shut the door after them and turned back to Remus, her eyes full of worry.
“Where have you been? Were you hurt badly?”
“No, I'm fine, it was nothing like that,” Remus said, quickly thinking up a likely excuse for his lateness. “I just got held up by Peeves; he locked me in a broom cupboard.”
Madame Pomfrey exhaled through her nose. “I don't know when Dumbledore's going to exert some control over him. Keeping injured students from receiving medical attention!” she muttered, scanning Remus up and down with her trained eye. “It looks like you came out fairly well, though. I don't even see anything that needs healing.”
Remus nodded in agreement with a furtive smile. “It wasn't a bad night.”
After Madam Pomfrey examined his minor scratches more closely and declared him relatively fit, she ordered him into bed while she went back to her office. Remus had just pulled the covers up when he felt a tap on his shoulder; two glass bottles emerged from nothingness in front of him, held in a disembodied hand.
“That was fast,” Remus whispered.
“I sneaked into the storeroom while she fussed over you,” Peter's voice whispered back. “Is it one of these?”
Remus studied the bottles closely, trying to match them to his blurry memory. “It was a bigger bottle than this one, rounder. And darker than the other.”
“Okay, let me look again,” Peter said and took off with a faint breeze. Remus burrowed deeper under his covers, fighting off the growing necessity for sleep. Through heavy eyelids, he saw Madam Pomfrey come out of her office again, and with a start that made his eyes fly open, he saw that she was heading towards the storeroom.
“Wait, Madam Pomfrey!” he called to her.
“Yes?” She paused midstep and regarded him with some impatience.
“Er, can you help me? I feel really dreadful, like someone's driving nails into my head,” Remus improvised. “Well, it's not really like nails... it's more like someone's giving it a good thumping with a brick, or maybe rolling it along-”
“Yes, I'm sure it does hurt after going without treatment all morning. I'm making your potion now,” she informed him and started back towards the storeroom.
“Okay, but Madam Pomfrey!” Remus called out hastily, and she stopped again just before reaching the door. “Am I going to get some chocolate to go with it? Only the potion tastes so terrible and the chocolate really helps. No offence, of course; I know it's not your fault the potion's so bitter. I'm sure you do your best and the recipe just tastes that way whoever prepares it-”
“Yes, for Merlin's sake, you'll get your chocolate!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. “Now please, just lie back and rest!”
She turned into the cramped storeroom without another word and Remus nearly panicked until he felt Peter tap his shoulder again. He breathed a sigh of relief, glad he didn't have to go on babbling like an idiot anymore. When Madam Pomfrey came back with his goblet, he downed it in one gulp without even a wince, and she dutifully laid the Honeydukes bar on his table before closing herself back in her office.
As soon as her door shut, Peter held out three more bottles underneath the edge of the cloak. “Please tell me it's one of these. They're the only other purple ones I could find.”
Remus frowned; they were all so similar that any one of them could have been the bottle he'd only briefly seen six months ago. He examined each of the faded labels closely, sniffed the stoppers, and finally pointed to the middle bottle.
“This one, Comacresco,” he declared. “The others are lavender essence and some sort of cleaning fluid, but this one has fluxweed; that's used in human transfiguration.”
“Great, that must be it!” Peter cheered and slipped the bottle underneath the cloak.
“Just tell James to be careful, all right?” Remus warned him. “Being bald is one thing, but taking an unknown transfiguration potion is something entirely different.”
“Don't worry, it'll work!” Peter said carelessly, and by the sound of his voice, Remus judged him to already be halfway to the door.
Remus settled back into his pillow, pleased to have Peter's confidence but hoping it wasn't misplaced. He didn't even want to think about what could happen if it weren't the right potion, but the images kept springing into his mind. Pushing them away, he reassured himself that if anything terrible happened, Sirius would take care of it. He let his eyes fall shut, as he'd wanted to do for hours now, and sleep took hold of him immediately.
Some time later, Remus was roused from his deep sleep by a heavy, squeezing sensation. He mumbled something garbled and blearily opened his eyes, only to find James leaning over his bed and giving him a ferocious hug.
“I knew you could do it!” James beamed, his familiar shock of black hair sticking up from his head in a glorious mess. “I'm off to the game now. I'm winning this one for you!”
James hopped up, ran a triumphant hand through his hair, and even blew Madam Pomfrey a kiss before bounding out of the wing. Smiling happily, Remus turned over and went back to sleep.