Recovering
- She hated the night time, she couldn't wait to get to sleep and see the day dawn. -
It had been a week since Rachael had taken Lily to St. Mungo’s and the Healers were not getting anywhere in their research. They just couldn’t figure out what brought about this strange condition. Lily had not resumed her breathing, but her pulse was as strong as ever. Most of her wounds had mended leaving not but scars, except her hands. Rachael was right in believing that not even magic could heal them. The skin would never fully heal so the Healers put bandages around them to prevent infections, as they couldn’t risk that happening. Every day a different Healer would come in and see what he or she could do, but none of them had the faintest idea. Griemer handled the job most of the time, but he was just as baffled as his colleagues.
One night, when no one was in her ward, Lily regained her consciousness. It was around midnight when Lily rolled onto her side and took a deep breath, coughing loudly as she did so. Still coughing, she looked around, gaining her bearings. She was in a white room with a single window and many bouquets of flowers were surrounding the bed she was in. Where am I? she thought weakly. She inspected her hands, which were wrapped in thick bandages, so only the upper halves of her fingers showed. Running her finger down one of her cheeks, she felt rough scars. What happened to me? She tried sitting up, but felt a surging pain in her side that made her slump back in her bed. She inhaled deeply, only to end up sputtering out a round of coughs, which attracted the attention of someone in the hallway.
The door to the room opened and an unfamiliar man came inside. Judging by his lime green robes, she knew it was a Healer. She was in St. Mungo’s. Another Healer followed him into the room, but the first one hissed something to the other and he ran off. The first Healer had a look of utter relief on his face and proceeded to check the bandages on her hands and her other injuries. The second Healer came back into the room and whispered something to the first. The first one nodded and turned back to Lily.
“Your mother will be here soon,” he said.
She tried to say something, but her vocal chords seemed to argue against it. He excused himself from the room and returned a mere minute later with Rachael, whose face was chalk-white.
When she saw Lily was awake, she hardly could believe it. She ran to hug Lily, but the Healer held her back, saying she had only just woke up and it could hurt her for any sudden movements.
“When did she wake up?” Rachael asked, pulling a chair over to the bedside.
The Healer shrugged. “We only just heard her three minutes ago, she may have been up longer,” the Healer said, looking pointedly at Lily, who shook her head, quickly stopping as she felt a sharp pain above her right eye.
Lily cleared her throat and, when she spoke, her voice sounded quite unlike her own. “What time is it?” Her eyes widened slightly and she cleared her throat again.
Rachael checked her watch.
“Three in the morning,” she answered, her face puzzled by Lily’s voice; it sounded wolfish. Rachael took another look at Lily before calling the Healer over to the other side of the room.
Lily could hear them talking in swift whispers. She knew perfectly well what they were talking about. She didn’t understand what made her sound like that; it was as if she was still part wolf. Her voice sounded like a werewolf’s growl… how did that happen? Rubbing her temples and thinking back, she found she couldn’t even remember when happened to her on the full moon. She didn’t know if it was painful, or if it had been the same as it had always been since Professor Snape started making the Wolfsbane Potion for her.
Taking a look at her various injuries, she knew it must have been painful. Snape… he couldn’t have, he wouldn’t have... this was just some fluke. Maybe her body had rejected the potion for one reason or another, Snape wouldn’t tamper with it, not with Dumbledore around. The Healer and her mother had halted their conversation and came back over towards the bed.
“Lily,” said the Healer, doing his best to keep his voice light so as not to alarm her. “I am Louis Griemer. I have been working all week to try and help you recover from your transformation.”
Lily looked confused for a minute, she had distinctly heard the word week. She couldn’t have been out that long. “Week?” she said, still in the same wolfish voice.
Griemer nodded sadly.
“You have the most peculiar condition,” he went on. “No breathing, until now that is, and yet a pulse as strong as any. Many of us Healers have been trying to come to a conclusion, but have not yet found one. Then there’s your voice, it still sounds like that of a wolf.” He pulled out a clipboard from the pocket of his robes and scribbled something down, before continuing. “You will notice the bandages on your hands.” He indicated the thick bandages on her hands. “Those are permanent, and will be removed only when Madam Pomfrey sees it necessary. Whatever happened to them, magic will not heal it. You will have to remain her for a couple more weeks for further observation. We have already contacted Professor Dumbledore, your schoolwork will be sent here via owls and you will be expected to keep up. Professor McGonagall stressed that you practise on transfiguring your nose to look like a pig’s.” He chuckled lightly, but, clearing his throat, he went on. “As for your voice, I suggest trying to use it as much as possible.”
Lily’s stomach plummeted; she had hoped he would suggest using it as little as possible. She didn’t want anyone to hear how she sounded.
“I think that maybe if you use it enough, it’ll wear out the wolfish sound and you will have your old voice back. Try reading your notes to yourself, or sing a song, anything that will keep you talking.”
Lily began to nod, but when Griemer raised an eyebrow she said, “Okay.”
“Good, now it’s late, I think your mother here should catch up on her sleep. You, on the other hand, have had quite enough.” Griemer bid them good night, turned the light out and shut the door behind him.
Lily took a look at her mother and, just by seeing her with the moonlight reflecting on her, she could tell she hadn’t had much sleep in the past week. Rachael smiled tiredly at her daughter, wanting more than anything to drop off, but her daughter had finally woken up. How could she possibly sleep? Or even think of it.
“Mum, go to sleep,” Lily said, cringing at her voice. Rachael shook her head firmly; she couldn’t go to sleep now. “Please, don’t stay up just because of me.”
“I’ve been worried sick about you for a week; do you really think I’ll go to sleep now?” Rachael asked rhetorically.
“Go to sleep!” Lily begged. “I don’t want to talk, I don’t care if they say I have to, I don’t want to.”
“Fine,” said Rachael. “But you have to tell me one thing first. What happened?”
“If I knew the answer, don’t you think I would tell you?”
“Okay Lily. I’ll sleep now. I’m glad you’re okay.” And with that Rachael leaned back in her chair, propped her feet up on the foot of the bed and fell asleep in an instant.
Lily rolled over onto her uninjured side and stared out the moonlit window, gazing at the half moon. She grimaced when she looked at it, she had always seen the moon as something beautiful, especially the golden full moons that appeared every once in a while. Now she loathed it with every nerve she had. How could something so spectacular make someone’s life miserable? She hated when the night dawned; she hated the fact that she used to love the nighttime; it was the time she used to think. Now she used it to think about the full moon, her stomach churning painfully as she did so. She never let anyone know how much she was scared every time the full moon rose. That last one was the breaking point. She hated the night time, she couldn’t wait to get to sleep and see the day dawn.
Rachael shifted the large, brightly coloured box she was holding, resting it on her knee and opened the door to the ward. She looked in to see Lily reading her Charms notes to herself and that she didn’t look up when her mother entered. Readjusting the box, Rachael cleared her throat loudly, only to have her daughter jump in fright. When Lily discovered the cause of the noise, she smiled slightly, and resumed her reading. Rachael went over to her usual chair at her daughter’s bedside and placed the package on the foot of the bed. She waited for a moment so Lily could finish the page she was reading, before asking her,
“Do you know what day it is?” Lily thought for a moment, as she hadn’t seen a calendar in days and shook her head when she figured her mother would just tell her. “January 15th,” her mother supplied.
Lily’s eyes widened when she heard this and when she saw the package on her bed she made the connection. “I forgot it was my birthday,” she admitted. “Wow… I never forget my birthday; they never tell me what day it is here.”
Rachael nodded understandably.
“I know, but the important thing is, you have a present,” joked Rachael, jerking her head at the box.
Lily leaned forward, snatched it and pulled the card off. Opening it she read the inside:
I wished that since this was the first birthday in a long time I got to celebrate with you, it would’ve been under better circumstances. But that’s a foolish thing to think since you’re here and nearly well. I’ve wanted to celebrate this with you for a long time and all I can say is Happy 18th Birthday.
Love Mum.
Lily smiled at the card, placed it on her nightstand and began to rip apart the wrapping paper, which, she noticed, had snitches flying around on it. She opened the box and saw that inside was something she always wanted but had been denied of because of Riley’s allergies. Inside the box was a small brown and black, shaggy, dog. Lily would never have guessed that was inside, but Rachael must have charmed the box so he could breathe.
Rachael grinned at her daughter’s response and said, “I did some research and Mrs. Jameson told me you had always been a dog person.”
“I am! Thank you!” Lily said, picking the dog up and petting him. The dog barked quietly, making it seem as though he knew that animals were not allowed in the hospital.
“What are you going to name him?” asked Rachael curiously.
Lily thought for a moment, she had always been thinking of names for a dog, since she swore once she was old enough for her own place she would get one. She did not want to pick a typical dog name such as Fluffy (as that one brought back horrible memories of a three headed dog), Spike, Bingo, and so on. She wanted something different. She didn’t need to think too long; however, as she thought of one of the things she missed most when she was in the hospital.
“Nimbus,” she answered. “I’m going to name him Nimbus.”
“Lily!” said a familiar voice that she hadn’t heard it quite a while.
Lily rolled over, groggily, still half asleep. Opening her eyes slightly, she could see the blurry outline of Hermione standing beside her hospital bed. Lily grinned at the sight of her friend, as her only visitors for the past week and a half had been her mother and Griemer, and they were no fun.
“Hi,” Lily said, her voice sounding more human than it had been.
Hermione smiled and dropped down into the chair. “How are you?” she asked.
“Fine,” Lily answered, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“We were so worried! Your mother owled Mrs. Weasley the day after it happened and Harry, Ron and I were in the room and she couldn’t lie to us about it so she had to tell us. We’ve been trying to figure out how it could have happened. Harry keeps suggesting Snape, of course.”
“But you said that idea wasn’t too farfetched,” Lily countered, trying to make herself comfortable on the bed.
“Oh I know; it’s just no one wants to believe us. Harry told Mr. Weasley and all Mr. Weasley said was that Dumbledore trusts Snape. Besides, Snape made the Wolfsbane Potion for Lupin in our third year, and he hated Lupin more than you.”
“Yeah, I know,” Lily spat, though unintentionally. Hermione looked taken aback, but quickly recovered. “I’m sorry Hermione, it’s just… I’ve been touchy about my family lately, you know that.”
“Yes, I shouldn’t have said that. It must be strange for you; being taught by someone for an entire year and not realising he was your uncle. Or being with Sirius for an entire summer and not knowing he was your father, and him not knowing you were his daughter.”
“The only one I didn’t know was my mother. But I think Sirius knew.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Well then why didn’t he tell you?”
“I think he didn’t realised it until a little before the Department of Mysteries. I remember it was a little before he fell through the veil, before he started that duel with Lestrange. I was sitting in a corner where no one was, I’d just broken my arm, and he saw me and he stooped down in front of me and said he had something important to tell me. But he never got to, a Death Eater had fired a spell that barely missed him and he said he’d tell me later.”
“And later never came,” Hermione finished. “But let’s not think about that, it’s no use dwelling on what happened. Sirius did find out where his daughter had ended up, that’s all that matters. It would’ve been worse if he died without ever knowing where you ended up.”
Lily nodded fairly. Clearing her throat loudly, she asked, “What’s been going on at school?”
Hermione’s face went white when she asked, which made Lily feel something bad had happened. “Well… I don’t suppose you’d know since you were holed up in here, and the Healers probably didn’t want to upset you.” Hermione was stalling. “Professor McGonagall was attacked by Fenrir Greyback. He didn’t bite her or anything, but she’s in a really bad condition. They brought her here actually.”
Lily’s jaw nearly dropped, that werewolf had attacked Professor McGonagall? She couldn’t believe it… she had been wondering why she hadn’t received any Transfiguration work.
“I want to go see her,” she said suddenly, not knowing why she had said it. Hermione looked startled by this sudden statement. “Is she allowed to have visitors now?”
“Well, yes… I was down there for a little before I came to see you. She’s on the other end of the ward, but I don’t think you should be going-.”
But Lily had already stood up and was steadying herself. As she hadn’t walked in weeks, her legs felt like jelly. Hermione quickened over and helped her friend regain her balance. Sighing in defeat, though not refraining from her protests, Hermione led Lily out of the room and down to the other end of the ward, where they could specifically hear their professor’s voice. She seemed to be saying how her students would fall behind if she wasn’t allowed to send them work, but whatever Healer was in the room was telling her she wasn’t allowed to. The Healer left the room and Hermione and Lily snuck in.
Professor McGonagall could have looked worse, if she was attacked by a Hungarian Horntail. Her face had scratches all over it. Her arm was bound in a sling and one of her feet was bandaged up and propped on a pillow. Lily felt sick looking at her professor, she almost turned to leave but Hermione stopped her. McGonagall was reading a copy of the Daily Prophet looking as though she was highly bored. They wouldn’t have imagined anything less; lying in a hospital bed was too dull for her. She needed to be in the castle and teaching a group of adolescents. She ruffled the pages of the newspaper and saw her two students out of the corner of her eye.
“Miss Black, I do not think it is wise for you to be up and about,” she said immediately.
Lily’s face turned red, but she didn’t leave. “We just wanted to see how you were,” she mumbled.
The professor smiled and folded her newspaper up. “Well, I’m grateful for the company,” she said.
“How are you, Professor?” Hermione asked.
“Fine, it’ll take more than a werewolf attack to make me worry.”
“But this is Fenrir Greyback,” Hermione persisted.
“I know very well who he is, Miss Granger.”
“He’s one of the most vicious werewolves there is! He specializes in biting children, he-”
“He bit my uncle,” Lily cut in.
Professor McGonagall nodded and Hermione acquitted any other attempts at arguing about the world’s most savage werewolf. The two spent a good ten minutes in there, the professor asking how Lily was feeling almost constantly. Hermione and Lily were shooed away when the professor’s Healer came in and said she needed to take her potions. Griemer had also been looking for Lily as she needed to take her potion as well. Griemer led them out of the ward and back down to Lily’s room. Lily hated taking the potions. True she didn’t have to take as many as she had to at first, but this one was just as disgusting as all of the others put together.
Hermione waited patiently as Lily drank her potion, as she had to drink it slowly for it to take its full effects. If she didn’t need to do that, she would’ve downed it in a second. Hermione hated seeing her friend in such a state, and now their Head of House was hurt too. Why did war have to do this? If it wasn’t for this stupid war than Professor McGonagall would be back at Hogwarts, and maybe, just maybe, Lily would be too. She didn’t want to think Snape could have had something to do with this, she really didn’t. The thing of it was that it was highly likely. It was true Dumbledore trusted Snape, and that should be enough, but, for some reason, it wasn’t. Griemer went on with his business of checking to see how her injuries were mending, and then with a polite nod to Hermione, left.
“Where’s your mum today?” Hermione asked.
“I made her go home and sleep some more,” Lily answered, making a face at the rancid taste of the potion. “She said she’d come back later.” She pulled up her legs and sat Indian style on her bed and rested her head in her hands. “How long before you have to leave?”
Hermione shrugged.
“Mrs. Weasley said she would come and get me,” she answered. “That way she could visit you too.”
“Oh, that’s nice of her.”
The two sat in silence for a moment, Hermione looking around the room and Lily singing softly under her breath. She had taken to doing that ever since Griemer had suggested it in order to get her voice back to normal. So far she had sung every song on a single CD by one of her favourite bands. Now she was working on another. Her stomach was churning horribly, but she knew it must be from the potions, as it had been happening frequently in the past few days.
Hermione broke her gaze away from the window and listened to her friend. “What are you singing?” she asked curiously. Lily stopped and shrugged, feeling somewhat embarrassed.
“A song,” she said plainly.
“Why?”
“Griemer suggested it; it was either that or read my notes out loud. They wanted to see if it’ll get my voice back to normal. It’s been working actually.”
Hermione laughed. “I suppose that’s better than reading your notes to yourself,” she said.
“Yeah, music is better than reading Binns’s notes.”
They spent the next hour talking about school, Hermione filling Lily in on everything that had happened while she was gone. Nothing particularly exciting happened, other than the attack on Professor McGonagall, but that wasn’t the type of excitement she wanted. The next most exciting event was Professor Trelawney having yet another meltdown in the middle of the Entrance Hall and having to be carried away by Professor Sprout and their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Westley. She would’ve found it much funnier if she hadn’t felt like she was going to vomit. Excusing herself from Hermione, she hurried off to the bathroom, while Hermione cringed at the retching sounds. Lily came back into the room, looking rather pale, and resumed her seat.
Mrs. Weasley came by an hour or so later, looking both happy and worried. She dashed over to Lily and pulled her into a tight hug, though pulling away when she smelled the stench of vomit. Almost the moment she pulled away, she went on a rant about how worried they had been, and how Ron and Harry wanted to come but they had Quidditch practise and that Mr. Weasley was working with some people at the Ministry who were trying to find a cure for this. Lily smiled weakly, her ears ringing a little from Mrs. Weasley’s never ending tirade.
“Now where is your mother?” she asked finally.
“Went to get some sleep,” Lily answered, not looking at Mrs. Weasley when she realised how strained her voice was. It had gone from wolfish to strained while she was doing Griemer’s treatment; he said it was only a matter of time before it was back to normal. “The Healer said she didn’t get much while I was unconscious.”
“I imagine she wouldn’t,” said Mrs. Weasley. “I was talking to the Healer before I came in here; he said that you’ll be well enough to leave by the end of the week.”
“Good, I can’t stand to be in here for another week.”
Lily walked in the direction of the Quidditch pitch, hoping to see the remaining bit of Quidditch practise. Harry was the stand-in captain while Lily was in St. Mungo’s and Dean Thomas had taken her place as Chaser until she was well enough to play again. Leaning against the fence surrounding the field, she looked up and saw the entire team in perfect formation, Harry shouting out plays as they practised. She felt bad that she couldn’t be up there with them, but she was also happy that Harry was doing such a good job and the team was in good shape. They would massacre Slytherin in the coming game and would win the Quidditch cup for the fourth year running. First, it had been Oliver Wood to lead them to victory, then Angelina Johnson, and then she had brought them to victory the previous year. She hoped she could do it again. If the Healers didn’t permit her to play for the rest of the year, then she was more than happy to have Harry bring them to victory.
She watched the entire practise from the fence, even though the weather was freezing and she wasn’t supposed to be outdoors. She didn’t care though. She had been held up in the hospital for weeks and then one week in the castle Madam Pomfrey, where watched her like a hawk. She deserved to be out in the fresh air, watching her friends play. She cheered loudly as Ron made a spectacular save. This caught the attention of her teammates. Upon noticing her, they descended and ran to meet her.
“Hey,” said Harry, swinging his broom over his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” she answered truthfully. “Can’t wait to start playing again.” She looked up at the Quidditch goal posts and down to Ron. “That was a great catch right there.”
“Thanks,” said Ron proudly.
“So, when do you reckon you can play again?” Ginny asked.
Lily shrugged. “Maybe by the game after this one, who knows with Madam Pomfrey? But, can you guys do me a favour? Beat Slytherin for me.”
The team assured her they would and went back to practise while Lily headed up to the castle. Treading lightly on the ground, she thought back to the last day at the hospital. Griemer had told her she would be feeling the aftereffects of her whole ordeal. She wondered what they might be. She had thought she’d feel constantly sick or maybe have bouts of dizziness, but nothing or the sort happened. She felt perfectly normal, just like she had felt before that transformation. She shrugged off what Griemer told her and concentrated on what her mother had talked to her about.
Her mother had finally chosen to reveal her childhood to her, though she was a little miffed to hear that Professor McGonagall had already laid the groundwork. What her mother told her had shocked her beyond all belief; she couldn’t believe that her grandmother had taken their differences to such a level. She didn’t want to hear half of what was being told to her, but, once her mother started, she couldn’t stop her even if she wanted to. She had asked and now she was getting the answers she had been waiting for, she just didn’t like them. Second year was her mother’s breaking point; she had lost it completely. She wanted to be a werewolf with such a passion so she could prove to her mother that she wasn’t the delinquent she thought she was. She had almost been bitten, if Sirius hadn’t come in at that very moment, she would’ve gotten to keep Remus company on full moons. Even when Mrs. Lupin found out what happened, she didn’t care. She did not care that her daughter almost died. That wasn’t the worst of it.
The worst of it was what happened a few days following the full moon. Rachael had gotten the house elves to bake Mrs. Lupin a birthday cake and she sent it to her, as a present and a peace offering. Along with the cake she had sent a letter, an innocent letter saying that she hoped her mother would like that cake. She had also said it would probably ruin her mother’s birthday. That was a mistake, as Mrs. Lupin had only sent a nastier letter to her daughter, who retorted. Rachael had only expected to receive a cruel letter, maybe a Howler, she had never expected her mother to floo to Hogwarts and take her anger out on her. She was beaten so bad she was bed ridden for three weeks. The thought of a mother doing that to her child sickened Lily. How could someone be so horrible?
The thing was her grandmother was sincerely sorry for what she had done. Rachael had accepted the apology, but she could never erase what happened. She would still have the scars. Scars that were physical, if not mental, and would be there forever, just like Lily’s. That was one of the reasons Rachael had given her up as an infant; she had been afraid that her upbringing might cause her to do some of the things her mother had done. She didn’t want to live with the guilt. It had taken her every ounce of strength she possessed to march up to the orphanage and give Lily to Professor McGonagall. Professor McGonagall had promised to find her a good home with a nice family, and she had done that.
That was one thing Lily and Rachael had in common. Both of them, at one point in their lives, had ended up in an orphanage. Rachael was in one for a few years; Lily was in one for a few days. It was the same orphanage, too. Rachael had told Lily how the place was going to be sold, as the administrators were unable to keep it running. Rachael had mentioned this to Professor Dumbledore, who took it upon himself to fund half of the bills. Rachael told her how, just as she was leaving the orphanage, the woman who had been her personal instructor while she was there, came up to her and promised to take care of Lily for as long as it took before they found a decent family.
“I now know what it must’ve been like for my dad to leave me there,” Rachael had said in a somewhat dejected voice.
Lily couldn’t believe that her mother had a childhood like that, it was horrible to her. Then, in Rachael’s fifth year, her father died from a potion made wrong. From what Rachael told her, her fifth year wasn’t all bad. That was when she and Sirius finally got together. She had visited the orphanage and finally got to meet Lily Evans’s family. It just seemed unfair to Lily that her mother had to suffer like that while she, Lily, had a great childhood. It was amazing how the world operated…