- "Please... don't tell anyone." -
As it turned out, Gryffindor ended up winning the match, much to Remus’s relief. It would have been twice as mortifying to return to class after being clubbed with a Bludger and find that Gryffindor had lost. Being hit in the head when he was in the stands was humiliating enough. Blake came into the Hospital Wing the next day with blood pouring out of his nose, staining the handkerchief he was holding against it.
“What happened to you?” Remus asked curiously, giving his brother a funny look.
Blake’s eyes flashed and he took a seat on the vacant bed beside his brother’s. “Oh, I just knocked the stuffing out of Kirk Bullstrode,” he explained.
“Why?”
“I caught him in the Great Hall, doing an impression of that Bludger hitting you. The little bugger was making you look like a complete moron.”
“Lupin,” Madam Pomfrey said warningly.
Blake looked over and saw the nurse standing at the opposite end of the room, tending to a second year girl who had come out of the wrong end of a Hair Growth Charm.
Blake ignored her and went on, his voice rising with each word. “What the hell are people thinking, anyway? How funny is it to watch someone to get hit in the head with a Bludger?”
“Right,” Remus said, rubbing a spot above his right eye.
“I bet they wouldn’t think it was funny if it was them.”
“Lupin!” Madam Pomfrey said, marching over to where the sixth year was sitting. “Will you keep your voice down? You are disturbing my patients.”
Blake looked around the infirmary. There were only two patients at the moment. “There are only two people in here!” he pointed out.
Madam Pomfrey glared at him and waved her wand, fixing Blake’s nose up. “Now, will you leave so I can tend to my two patients?”
Remus remained in the hospital for only three days. By the time he was released, he found that he wasn’t as embarrassed as he had expected. Apparently Blake had made it clear to everyone that what had happened was not to be made fun of, or else. Remus fell back into his regular routine, though suffering from bouts of headache. Luckily, it wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t concentrate. He also found that he was spending most of his free time out on the grounds. He didn’t know why, exactly, but there was something nice about the grounds. It was peaceful outside. The students weren’t spending as much time out there as they normally would, as the weather was increasingly cold for October. But Remus didn’t mind the cold; he enjoyed it.
He was visited occasionally by Larry Wilkins, who seemed oddly intent on discussing the events of the Quidditch match. Remus had thought that he and his brother had made it clear that the topic was not to be brought up. Yet here was this kid bringing it up every chance he got. Soon he was getting so overbearing that Remus lost it completely. He shouted, very loudly, that Larry should just stop bringing up the subject or else he would hex him into oblivion. This made Wilkins stop talking about the match. In fact, Wilkins stopped coming towards Remus at all. If Wilkins saw Remus in the hallway, he would either skirt him or walk in the opposite direction.
One day when Remus was sitting out on the grounds, his nose dug in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, he saw Wilkins near the Whomping Willow with Snape. This struck Remus as rather ominous. Both of them knew very well that no one was supposed to go near the tree, since Dumbledore had warned every student at the Start of the Term Feast. Letting his curiosity get the better of him, he bookmarked his page and drifted inconspicuously in their direction. He couldn’t really hear what they were saying from the distance he was at, but he could see Snape pointing towards the bottom of the tree trunk.
Remus felt himself pale. The only thing at the bottom of the trunk was the knot that froze the tree’s violent branches. This raised many frantic questions in his mind. Did Snape know where Remus went every month? Did he possibly see Madam Pomfrey pushing the knot, even though she appeared to be alone? Was he able to make the connection between Remus’s absences and the Willow? It was then that Remus realised that Snape wasn’t pointing at the knot. Snape couldn’t possibly know that the knot was there unless he had gone and tried pushing it on his own. If he had done that, then he would have met Remus during a full moon.
Carefully, Remus stuck his hand inside his pocket and grabbed a small handful of money. He made sure that Snape and Wilkins were looking in the opposite direction, and he tossed the coins a decent distance. Crawling towards a silver Sickle, Remus strained his ears to catch a bit of their conversation.
“I don’t get why you’re so interested in this tree,” Larry was saying, looking at the Willow without the faintest amount of interest on his face.
Snape sighed and began polishing his wand with the inside of his robes. “You don’t find it fascinating?” he asked as he gave the tree an adoring smile.
“The only thing I find fascinating is that you’re so into it. It’s just a tree that whacks people who get too close to it.”
“But, don’t you know that “ Lupin, what are you doing?”
Remus jumped slightly when Snape and Larry spotted him eavesdropping, but he did his best to look innocent. After all, what could be more blameless than picking up money? Remus shrugged and stood up, dusting the dirt off his pants.
“Picking up money that I dropped,” he said in his most convincing voice. Snape glared at him suspiciously.
“I didn’t think you had enough money to drop,” he said sarcastically. Remus rolled his eyes at Snape’s insult. It was just like Snape to make a rude comment on someone’s standings when it came to money. If Remus remembered correctly, Snape wasn’t all that rich himself.
Larry smirked at the slur. Remus found, surprisingly, that he didn’t care. After all, this kid wouldn’t stop bothering him about what happened at the Quidditch match. He had eyes; couldn’t he see what happened for himself? Why did he have to badger Remus about it? Remus picked up the last Knut on the ground, pocketed it, and made his way back to the castle. As he was making his way up to Gryffindor Tower, he passed James, Sirius, and Peter coming out of the Transfiguration classroom. The three of them looked rather pleased with themselves, from what Remus could see. Remus also noted that he could hear Professor McGonagall muttering from inside the room, although he couldn’t make out what she was saying.
The three boys stopped when they saw Remus approaching. Remus slowed his pace and braced himself for another one of James’ outbursts. But, much to his shock, none came.
“How’s that head?” James asked. Unless Remus’ ears were cheating him, James actually sounded a little concerned. Remus was so startled he found himself incapable of answering for a moment. “Remus?”
“Oh, it’s fine,” Then, trying to think of something else to say, he asked, “How’re your fingers?”
“Good. Madam Pomfrey fixed them in a minute,” James answered, cracking his knuckles to demonstrate. “Well, we’ve got to be going, detention with Filch soon,” he added with a grin.
“Right, see you.”
Remus stepped backwards, allowing the three room to walk down the corridor and continued on his way to Gryffindor Tower. He wondered what they could have done to have gotten detention this time. Probably pulled another one of their pranks, Remus thought as he rounded a corner. To be honest with himself, he kind of admired their skill at executing pranks, only getting away with detentions and nothing else. He would have expected the professors to take no mercy on the troublemakers after three years of nonsense.
He thought they might at least suspend them from Hogsmeade trips since they were finally permitted to go. He had also thought that the teachers might suspend James from Quidditch. Oh, McGonagall would have a fit if that happened, Remus thought as he stepped through the portrait hole. Professor McGonagall was a fanatic when it came to Quidditch. She was worse than the entire student body put together. She absolutely hated it when the Cup went to Slytherin; Professor Slughorn never let her forget it.
Remus looked around the common room and saw that it was empty for the most part, save for a few first years, and a fourth year. He could also see the unmistakable red hair that belonged to Lily Evans, who was sitting in one of the armchairs. She seemed to be reading, judging by the way her head was bent forward. Not wanting to disturb her, he quickly made his way towards the boys’ dormitory.
“How’s your head?” she asked, looking up from her Charms textbook.
Remus stopped, his right foot on the first step, and looked over his shoulder at her. She was looking at him concernedly. Maybe she thought something worse had happened when the Bludger hit him? He didn’t know, so he just took it as being polite.
“It’s okay,” he answered truthfully.
She smiled, apparently satisfied and returned to her book. This allowed Remus the chance to escape to the dormitory. He entered the room to find that it was completely empty, as James, Sirius, and Peter were in detention. He had at least expected to find Frank Longbottom, their fellow third year, there. But Frank was probably hanging out with his Ravenclaw friend, Jorge Hendrix. Remus really shouldn’t have expected anything other than this. Sitting down on his bed, Remus pulled out the coins he had and lazily counted them. They weren’t much, when he grouped them together and looked. Perhaps he should send an owl to his parents, asking if they could send him some of his money he had left at home? They should understand. They always did for Blake.
Then again, how much did he expect to buy? He knew he wasn’t going to buy a lot of Honeydukes sweets, as he would be too sick to eat them. He probably wasn’t going to get a drink at the Three Broomsticks, for the same reason. Then he remembered what Blake had told him the day they were going to Diagon Alley. As they sat in the kitchen of their house, Blake had jokingly suggested that Remus should buy out Zonko’s. Now, that kind of advice was usually Blake just joking around.
Had there been a hint of seriousness in his voice? Should Remus do that? It wasn’t like he really needed anything out of there. He sighed and dropped back down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He just wanted the trip to come.
Hogsmeade could be described in one word “ disastrous. Remus didn’t think that any one day could be so terrible, especially a day that was intended for fun. First of all, the entire day was plagued with torrential downpour. However, that didn’t stop that staff from sending the students off to the village for the day, so they could be soaked to the bone. Then there was the fact that the village was hosting a meeting of vampires (for a reason that Remus had not found out) and most of the pubs were closed off. Because of this, the students were being heavily guarded by Ministry wizards.
When he arrived at the village, his robes sticking to him uncomfortably from the rain, he took one look around and instantly wondered what Hogsmeade looked like on a bright, sunny day. He imagined it look far nicer than it did now. Streetlights were illuminated on every single corner in order to keep the streets lit enough so everyone could see where they were going. The lights were helpful, but they gave the streets an eerie glow. The shutters on the buildings were clattering noisily in the strong winds, causing a racket as the students trekked about. Wringing his sleeves partially dry, Remus set off towards Zonko’s, deciding to see what he could buy for a few Sickles and Knuts.
“This is just great,” Remus muttered angrily as he stepped in a deceptive mud puddle that splattered his pants and soaked his cuff. The villagers of Hogsmeade would wonder if the spirits haunting the Shrieking Shack were sick tonight. Folding his arms across his chest, he squinted his way through the dark street. He tried to locate Zonko’s, only to come out of his search fruitless. Even with the lights on in every building, it wasn’t nearly enough to illuminate an entire street, especially one as vast as this. How was he supposed to tell if the sun was setting, when he couldn’t even see the sun? He could end up transforming right then and there. Shivering at the thought, or maybe the cold gust of wind, Remus walked aimlessly up the road.
“Hey, Remus!” Remus turned to see Blake coming out a shop with one of his friends, Billy Jacobsen. Remus looked up at the shop they had left and discovered that he had walked right past Zonko’s.
“You’re going to get sick out here,” Blake said as he approached. Remus nodded knowingly; his nose was running slightly and he was shivering from the cold winds. “Come on into to Zonko’s,” he continued, jerking his head over his shoulder. “They’ve got some cool stuff in there.” But whatever cool stuff that was in there, Remus never saw, as some moronic human being, who Remus couldn’t see, had just decided to set off every single bit of the Dungbombs that the store carried and everyone was being ushered out. Looking over the crowd of heads, Remus could see the owners rushing about, waving their wands furiously in an attempt to get rid of the smell. The three boys stepped back out into the rain and looked around.
“Let’s go to the Three Broomsticks,” Billy suggested. Blake and Remus glanced at each other and nodded. This seemed as good an idea as any. So they set off on the high street in the direction of the pub. When they approached the pub, they were, once again, greeted with disaster. Ministry wizards were having difficulty restraining a vampire who appeared to have just spotted a nice neck to bite. The student was shrieking wildly as the vampire struggled to break free of his restraints. Madam Rosmerta, the owner of the pub, was beside herself with anger. Once all of the vampires had left the building, she shooed everyone out and closed up for the day.
Remus looked at the closed sign on the door and remembered what Professor McGonagall had told him on the first day of school. He was supposed to stay at the Three Broomsticks until it was time for the full moon to rise. But it looked as if that was out of the question. Rosmerta wasn’t going to let anyone else in, no matter what. Looking defeated, Blake glanced up the road and turned back to his brother and his friend.
“Why not the Hogs’ Head?” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “We’re not banned from going there, are we?”
Just as Blake was suggesting this, one of the vampires spoke up and suggested going to the same place. This suggestion was met with many cheers.
“Well, this stinks,” Billy muttered as he watched the group of vampires head off. “The only place left is Madam Puddifoot’s, and I am not going there.” Remus sniggered at this remark. “Unless, Blake, me and your little brother can pretend….”
“Ha-ha, not funny,” Blake snapped.
“Blake, what time is it?” Remus asked.
“Two.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Here, why don’t you take my watch with you and go on up to Dervish and Banges? They’ve got some good stuff in there.” Blake handed Remus his watch and nodded him off in the direction of the store. Before Remus was out of earshot, he heard Billy begin speaking to Blake.
“Why is your brother such a tagalong?” he asked, annoyance greatly evident in his voice. Remus stopped when he heard this. He turned to his left and pretended to be looking at something in the window so he could eavesdrop. Remus could see through the reflection in the window, Blake raising an eyebrow at his friend. Blake tried to keep his voice in check.
“What’re you talking about?” he asked coolly.
“He’s always with us and everyone else when we want to do something!”
“Billy, in case you didn’t notice, I was the one who invited my brother along today. He was planning on spending the day by himself.”
Billy was silent for a moment, as there was no denying this, but it still didn’t stop him from carrying on. “What about on the train? He ended up sitting with us.”
“Again, I told him to sit with us. He was stuck with Slytherins, for Merlin’s sake!” Billy opened his mouth again, but Blake beat him to it. “He’s my brother; I’m supposed to look after him. And honestly, I don’t care if you get annoyed by it.”
“I know how you feel. I have a little brother too, remember?” Blake shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t care if Billy had ten little brothers at the moment. “I just think you’re a little overprotective. He’s thirteen; he can look after himself.”
“You don’t get it, you just don’t get it. My brother needs to be looked after.”
“Why? He looks like he can get on by himself! He’s not stupid.”
“Did I ever say my brother was stupid? I don’t think I did. He’s just as smart as you are. I don’t expect you to understand this, you’re not supposed to.” Blake looked over and saw Remus standing only some feet away from them, clearly listening. “I’d just appreciate it if you don’t say anything about my brother.”
Remus suddenly felt as though he shouldn’t be listening. This arguement wasn’t any of his business, even if it was about him. So, easily breaking his attention away from the dull display in the window, he hurried down towards Dervish and Banges, like Blake had recommended. On his way, though, he slipped and landed on his bottom in another puddle of mud. Groaning in disgust, he raised himself up and decided to not even bother. There were more trips to Hogsmeade; he could visit the shops then. He was just going to wait the day out in the Shrieking Shack. He pulled out his wand, gave it a simple flick and siphoned the mud off his pants. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to get rid of the image that he had an accident.
When Remus came upon the dilapidated building he pointed his wand at the lock and he whispered, “Alohomora!” The door swung open and Remus stepped into the dry house. Shutting the door and locking it behind him, he sighed in relief now that he was out of the bad weather. Though the inside of the Shack wasn’t much of an improvement, it was definitely better than being stuck outside, where the rain hammered on him full force. He looked around and saw the familiar battered armchair in the corner. It looked comfortable enough, so he settled himself inside, shut his eyes and, waited patiently for the pain to come at nightfall.
Remus was completely unaware of a figure standing outside in the rain, watching the Shrieking Shack and waiting for him to come out.
Pain racked his body as Remus sat in the fetal position, crying out in agony. His head was pounding as if it was being smashed onto a boulder. His stomach was threatening to come up. He raised a trembling hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead, but his arm dropped tiredly to his side before he could reach it. He fell over sideways and cried out loudly, calling for help, knowing that no one was going to help him. His nose lengthened into a grey snout. His eyes sharpened, allowing every detail of the dark room to become visible. His bones curved and broke to accommodate his wolfish shape. Fur sprouted all over his body, covering every inch of skin. His robes tore as his back arched. His canine teeth broke through his braces, curved and sharpened. Then, in a matter of minutes, his cries of pain turned into fierce howls, as the beast side took over and his human mind succumbed. He was a full-grown monster.
Weakly, the wolf got up on all fours and sniffed around, gaining his bearings. He looked around, trying madly to locate some human flesh to bite. But there was none. He was all alone. The only option he had was to bite and scratch himself. So he did. He sunk his fangs into his paw, letting to blood flow into his mouth. He howled in delight at the taste, scaring every villager passing by.
Remus woke with a quick, excruciating start the next morning, when he heard the distinct slam of a door. He had raised his weary head barely an inch off the floor when he heard a single set of footsteps approaching him. When he fully turned his head, he saw a pair of black shoes at his nose. This isn’t right, he thought tiredly. Madam Pomfrey doesn’t wear shoes like this. What was going on?
The owner of the shoes stooped down and Remus was met with the face of none other than Larry Wilkins. His heart stopped. This wasn’t happening, this kid was not here. This meddling kid was not standing there in the Shrieking Shack! Remus’ head pounded with these questions, along with the aftermath of his transformation. He couldn’t take it. Larry was going to run through the village and up to the castle, shouting the identity of the Shrieking Shack’s haunt. But, getting a good look at the boy, Remus could tell that Larry wasn’t about to back away from him, even if he had seen Remus as a werewolf. Even so, Remus couldn’t help but panic. His secret was exposed. He had to defend himself; he had to say something.
But all he could manage to say was, “Please… don’t tell anyone.” And he lost all consciousness.
When Remus next awoke, his eyes were met with bright sunlight reflecting off a white room. He was in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts. An assortment of potions sat on his nightstand. He looked down at his body. His arm was wrapped in bandages, and ached. His middle wasn’t as badly scarred as he expected, but it was still bad enough. He couldn’t tell how his face looked, but he imagined that it wasn’t any better. Taking a deep breath, he sat up and tried to recall the night’s events. It was raining. He had been listening to Blake and his friend, Billy, argue. After that he had gone to the Shrieking Shack where he had his transformation. He knew he passed out when he changed back. But that wasn’t all that happened. Something else occurred between the loss of consciousness and the present. He had woken up once before now, but only for a moment.
He wasn’t alone when he woke up. There was someone with him, someone who had heard him howling… someone who wasn’t supposed to. It was Larry Wilkins, that meddling Slytherin. Remus wasn’t going to be able to forget this. Wilkins was going to badger him about this for all eternity. Although that was better than Wilkins’s other option. Wilkins could easily announce Remus’ condition the entire school. This could be his one chance to fulfil every Slytherins dream and humiliate a Gryffindor beyond belief. This was the end, Remus thought sadly, a sickening feeling expanding in the pit of his stomach. After two years of keeping it a secret, one third year could ruin it for him. There was the possibility that Wilkins had seen him as a wolf and had chosen not to run. There was hope that Wilkins could not be scared.
The door to the office opened and Madam Pomfrey burst in; looking rather harassed, and slammed the stack of papers she was holding down on an empty bed. She marched over to Remus’ beside and began uncorking potion bottles at a furious rate, thrusting them at her charge. Remus, afraid of doing anything that might further upset the nurse, downed them quickly. Once she was finished, she crossed back to the stack of papers, muttering something about paperwork for the foolishness of a boy. Curious, Remus asked her what was going on.
“Severus Snape was knocked unconscious by the Whomping Willow. The whole side of his head was bleeding. Oh, it was such a mess!” she moaned, gesturing to the bed across from Remus’. He had not noticed it before, but on the bed was a silent, sleeping, Snape. One part of his head was currently covered in a purple goop. Remus’ stomach lurched. He didn’t like the idea of being in the same room as Snape, even one who was unconscious, for an extended period of time.
Apparently Madam Pomfrey noticed some unrest in him, as she next said, “Are you going to be sick, Remus?” she observed his face closely. “You’re looking awfully pale.” Remus slowly shook his head, saying something about leaning too hard on his arm. She warned him to be careful and hurried back into the office, still looking hassled. Once she was gone, the door to the Hospital Wing and a wary-looking Wilkins entered. An anger that Remus had never before experienced swept through him as he looked up at the other boy. He wanted nothing to do with Wilkins, who had the opportunity to ruin Remus’ life.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” Larry said quietly. “Just like you told me.”
“You better not,” Remus warned. His work on keeping his secret was not going to be spoiled. Through clenched teeth, he added, “I mean it. I’m not going to be kicked out of here.”
“When did it happen?”
“What?” Remus was completely thrown off by this question. He had been expecting a large defence on Larry’s part. He had thought that Wilkins would declare that he would never tell anyone. Remus had heard that many times and no one ever meant it.
“When did it happen?” Wilkins repeated, his expression impassive.
“I dunno, when I was four. But I swear if you tell anyone-.”
“Have you ever attacked someone?”
“What? No! What are you getting at?”
“What about yourself? Ever hurt yourself?” Wilkins eyes were gleaming in a manner that was strange to Remus. Was this boy getting enjoyment out of his interrogation?
“What do you think?” Remus snarled, motioning towards his ragged appearance. He didn’t like the way this conversation was going. This was far too strange for him. He would rather have the kid saying he was a menace to society than being as interested in this as he was.
“Did you ever think that you might accidentally kill yourself?”
“Well, yeah, of course I have, but-.”
“What about someone in your family? Like your brother?”
“That’s not of your business,” Remus snapped defensively.
Wilkins laughed softly, his eyes still gleaming. “Of course it isn’t,” he said in an understanding tone. After a minute’s silence, he continued. “I mean, if you accidentally killed your brother, you would be devastated, wouldn’t you?”
Remus decided Wilkins wasn’t going to let the question go, so he answered. “Of course, my brother’s the one who looks after me.” He wanted to get back to the point of the arguement. “Please, just don’t tell anybody what you saw!”
Larry smiled and, although friendly in appearance, it unsettled Remus somewhat.
“Don’t worry; I wouldn’t want to ruin your life like that.” And with that, he calmly left the ward.