Infirmary Visits and Warnings
The Hogwarts Express chugged across the rolling, green English countryside on September 1st, slowly making its way to Hogwarts Castle for the upcoming school year. The weather was bright and sunny, with a breeze playing in the air every so often. The white, puffy clouds rolled in the sky leisurely along with the hills as the occupants of the train stared out the windows at them. James, Sirius and Peter sat in their usual compartment, which had earlier been stolen by a band of Slytherin third years and recaptured. They now sat together, James and Peter on one row of seats and Sirius stretched out on the other. The lunch trolley had just departed from their compartment and they were sorting through their sweets.
“Chuck me those Every Flavour Beans, would you, Peter?” Sirius asked. Peter tossed him a pack and Sirius ripped it open with his teeth. “When d’you reckon we’ll get there?” he asked, spitting bits of paper to the floor.
“Not for a few more hours,” James mused, biting off a piece of his Cauldron Cake. They never arrived at the castle before nightfall, so why should this year be any different? James selected another Cauldron Cake and looked up at his friends. “Did you see those first years?” The first years were easily distinguishable from the other years. Their height was a key factor to this observation, not to mention their unnatural amount of excitation and nerves.
“They’re tiny,” Peter said, observing some first years that were passing by their compartment. “Were we ever that small?”
“I don’t think I was,” Sirius said, shaking his head.
“Me neither,” James agreed. “You were a bit small, Pete.”
“Thanks…”
“But you grew.”
“Remus has always been small,” Sirius said, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bench. “When’s he getting to school anyway?”
“Sometime tomorrow,” Peter reported. Remus had owled him the previous day, asking him to relay the information to James and Sirius. “Whenever they can move him from his house to the castle.”
“This is a first, a full moon on the first day of school,” James commented, redoing the laces on his right shoe. “Hopefully there’s not a second time.”
As the boys were halfway through a competitive match of Exploding Snap, taking full advantage of the absence of Remus and his dominating skills at the game, they heard a commotion from outside their compartment. Sirius slid off his bench and peered through the window. He could see that a rather small Ravenclaw, possibly a second year, was caught in between two Slytherin seventh years, both of whom had their wands drawn. The boys didn’t recognise any of the students, but they certainly didn’t want the Ravenclaw to receive an undeserved beating, especially with the crowd that was hurrying to watch.
As James was sliding the compartment door open, they heard the voice of the Gryffindor Keeper, Oliver Pulliman. He sounded furious and, when he came into view, they could see his eyes blazing at the trio in the centre of the corridor. James, Sirius and Peter exchanged inquiring looks. Oliver hated uncalled for duels as much as the next person, but he was never one to step in and do something about it. They wondered what had brought this own.
“Break it up!” Pulliman ordered, grabbing the back of one of the seventh year’s robes and restraining him.
“What are you going to do about it, Pulliman?” challenged the seventh year heatedly.
“I’ll dock points from Slytherin before the school year even starts, would you like that?”
Sirius jabbed James in the shoulder and pointed at the Keeper. On his chest was a shiny, silver badge, emblazoned with a P. Apparently Oliver Pulliman had become a Prefect over the summer. The boys continued to watch the arguement between Oliver and the two Slytherins, none of which seemed to register that the Ravenclaw had snuck away. In the end, Slytherin was down to negative twenty points by the time Pulliman had finished dealing with them. Once the two Slytherins had returned to their compartment, Pulliman turned to head back to his own. He caught sight of James, nodded at his teammate and dashed down the corridor.
“I would hate being a Prefect,” Sirius lamented, resuming his seat.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Peter asked to no one in particular.
“It would take all the fun out of life.”
“I can’t argue with that,” James concurred, pulling his feet up onto his seat. “Who wants to have to break up fights all the time?”
“You’d rather start them,” Peter said, nodding his head understandingly. “You know that’s going to be one of us next year, don’t you?”
The corners of James’s mouth turned down slightly. He honestly couldn’t picture himself as a Prefect. He wasn’t cut out for it. “Well… yeah. I doubt it’ll be me, or Sirius.”
“Maybe it’ll be you, Pete. Or Remus. Or it might even be Frank. You three are better choices than us.”
“Anyway,” James plowed on, wanting to get off the topic of Prefects. “When are we going to start working on the potion?”
“I’ve got the hairs I need,” Sirius said happily. “Too bad Remus’s dog bit him when he tried getting them off.”
“You were laughing, Sirius,” Peter reminded his friend. Sirius pretended to look insulted. “Thanks for getting mine. I can’t believe I have to be a rat.”
“How are we going to get mine?” James asked concernedly. They had not figured out any place where they could get stag hairs. “You don’t think there’d really be any in the Forbidden Forest, do you?”
“There might be,” Sirius mused. “If there aren’t, we’ll have to think of a backup plan.”
“Maybe we should go to a zoo,” Peter suggested jokingly. “Those Muggles love keeping animals in cage.”
James shrugged, looking as if he thought Peter had something in his suggestion. “If they had a stag, why not?”
Sirius pulled open a Chocolate Frog pack. “We don’t need to hair until the end; we don’t have to worry about that right now.” He bit off one of the frog’s legs. “We can get started on it, and the sooner the better.”
James, Sirius and Peter sat by the window of the common room, staring at the centre of the room with their fellow Gryffindors. The tables and chairs had been pushed back to make room for the most grueling match of Exploding Snap they had ever seen, and that including all the disastrous loses caused by Remus. The game had been going on for an hour and a half, and it was a welcome relief from the monotony of the first day of school. The Gryffindors cheered when a spectacular move was made and groaned when someone’s move cost them a possible victory.
Their cheers were ruptured by an explosion and then a mass of more cheers started as the victor emerged, punching his fists in the air. The common room was filled with clapping and congratulatory shouts before the crowd dispersed and everyone returned to their own activities. The chairs and tables were moved back in front of the fireplace once the cards were picked up and the smoke was sucked up through someone’s wand. A buzz of loud chatter filled the room and the night was uneventful once more. James, Sirius and Peter resumed their seats by the window, where they had been discussing the idea of setting dates for Animagus training.
“What d’you think about every Wednesday?” Sirius suggested, opening the window a crack.
James shook his head; Wednesdays were the nights the Gryffindor Quidditch team usually practised. “How about Mondays?”
Peter disagreed with this one. “Too early.” He pulled at a loose thread at the bottom of his shirt. “Maybe we shouldn’t schedule our practises? It’s too predictable.”
Sirius frowned in thought. “Pete has a point,” he said to James. “People will begin to wonder what we’re up to.”
James nodded in consent. “Now that that’s settled… what do you guys want to do?”
“It’s past curfew, there’s not much else to do,” Peter reminded him.
“But I’m bored.”
“What about sneaking down to the Hospital Wing?” Sirius offered.
James raised an eyebrow at his friend. “What’s supposed to be fun about that?”
Sirius rolled his eyes at the question. “Remus might be there.”
“But he’s never fun after his furry little problem.”
“We can at least see him, can’t we?”
James looked at Peter, who nodded in agreement with Sirius. James told them to wait a moment so he could retrieve his Invisibility Cloak. Filch would be waiting for the first opportunity to catch them after curfew. It was only the first day of classes; they would wait until at least the third before they had a detention to fulfil. James returned with the cloak clutched under his robes and the three crept as inconspicuously as they could towards the portrait hole. To their luck there was an eruption of sound as someone conjured up a rampage of frogs and the common room occupants were distracted once more.
The trek to the Hospital Wing seemed to take no time at all. The halls were vacant of ghosts, poltergeists, wayward students and caretakers with their obnoxious cats. They followed the path of torches that illuminated the otherwise pitch-black corridors and soon found themselves outside the familiar infirmary. James’s hand was on the doorknob when they heard voices from inside. One of them they recognised as Madam Pomfrey and the other was, they thought, their substitute Defence Against the Dark Arts professor from last year, Professor Twikom. Professor Twikom had been appointed to the official position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for that year.
“So Dumbledore really did admit a werewolf into the school?” Professor Twikom was saying. There was a faint trace of marvel in her voice. Twikom did not know about Remus’s Lycanthropy, as she had only been a substitute before.
“Yes, he did,” Madam Pomfrey replied distractedly. The boys knew she was probably tending to her patient while carrying out the conversation.
“How long has he been one?”
“Eleven years, I think. I may be wrong.” The boys heard her sigh as Remus groaned audibly. “Here you go, Remus.”
“Those potions help?” Twikom asked inquiringly.
“They ease the pain.”
“I feel as though I should know more about this,” Twikom continued. The boys could hear footsteps, Twikom must have been pacing.
“Really?”
“I have a relative… A cousin removed a couple of times or maybe a nephew. I’m not exactly sure of his relation to me. He was bitten years ago.” There was a pause of silence. “I haven’t heard from him since then. I have no idea what Fenrir is up to lately.”
The boys had to bite their tongues to keep from making sounds of outrage. Fenrir… She couldn’t have meant Fenrir Greyback, the maniac who had bitten their friend when he was only three. But how many boys were named Fenrir that were bitten by werewolves? They couldn’t fathom a man “ or beast “ such as that actually having a family. However, from what they heard, it didn’t seem as if Twikom and Greyback were very close. They pressed their ears closer to the door, as the conversation’s volume decreased.
“Remus, are you okay?” The voice of Madam Pomfrey sounded suddenly worried.
“He looks ill,” Twikom commented, her tone similar to the nurse’s.
“Does Madam Pomfrey know Greyback bit Remus?” James hissed to Sirius and Peter, who could give no response. They doubted Remus ever told the story to anyone, aside from them. The nurse hadn’t the slightest idea.
“He’s warmer than he was before.” Madam Pomfrey’s voice was so quiet that the boys almost missed it. There was the faint noise of the nurse’s heels clicking to the floor as she crossed the room, presumably searching for a potion to lower his fever. “Agatha, maybe you should go back to your office?” The nurse did not sound reproachful, but she seemed to have realised that it was something Professor Twikom had said that upset her patient. If there was anything the nurse hated, it was someone upsetting her patients. The boys rushed to the side as the infirmary door opened and Professor Twikom appeared. They hastily slipped inside.
Madam Pomfrey was standing at the bed in the very back of the ward, bent over, her hand resting on Remus’s forehead. She was muttering under her breath, though the boys could not make out the words. She set a goblet down on the nightstand and again said something they could not hear to Remus. Madam Pomfrey bustled about, shutting various cabinets, and returned to her office. Once the door was shut, the boys pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and hurried to their friend’s bed. They sat down on either side of him and waited for him to notice their presence.
Remus’s eyes were half open and his face was as pale as death. Apparently the words spoken by Professor Twikom had rendered him into a sicker state than he had originally been in. His left arm was bound up in a sling and his right foot was propped up and wrapped in a number of bandages. The cuts and bruises stood out exceptionally on his paper white face and looked worse than normal. Remus seemed to break out of a trance and his eyes darted to his friends.
“What‘re you doing here?” he asked in a voice no higher than a hoarse whisper.
“We were bored,” Sirius said simply. “So we thought there was no better way to solve that problem than to come and visit you.”
“What was Twikom doing here?” James asked, wanting to find out before Remus fell asleep again and was unable to answer their questions.
“I dunno… she was here when I woke up before.” He inhaled sharply and cringed. “Last night was awful.”
“Seems like it.” James fiddled with a piece of the bed sheets. He wondered what the best way to ask his friend about what Twikom had said was. He couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t come out so blunt. Luckily, Sirius took the problem right out of his hands.
“So Twikom is related to Greyback?”
The little colour that had returned to Remus’s face in the past few minutes was drained again. “If she says she is…” Remus muttered, shifting so that he was facing away from his friends.
Peter cast his mind around for a topic that wasn’t so uncomfortable. “We were thinking of starting the potion this week.”
Remus was visibly grateful for Peter’s change of subject. “Really? What day?”
“Probably Friday.”
“What do Peter and I have to do?” Remus asked James and Sirius. They had made it very clear that Remus was not to touch the potion, lest it would explode. Peter also wasn’t to be trusted. He was not a terrible potion brewer, but his skills were nowhere near as good as those of James and Sirius. This potion was guaranteed to be delicate. They couldn’t risk the slightest mistake.
“You two are in charge of collecting the ingredients we need,” Sirius told them. “There are some in the student stock, and some in Slughorn’s storage room. You guys have to break in there.”
Peter looked less than thrilled about that idea. “Brilliant.”
The relative quiet of the room was ruptured by a shout of pain from Remus, whose injured foot was accidentally knocked into the bed’s footboard by James. The three boys took no time at all to throw the Invisibility Cloak over themselves and moved out of reach of the ever approaching nurse. The office door swung open and the harried and hassled nurse appeared. The boys watched from the opposite wall as Madam Pomfrey tended to her single potion.
“I told you to take that when you were ready to sleep.” Madam Pomfrey was pointing to the goblet she had left on the nightstand, which had not been touched.
“I wasn’t ready to sleep,” Remus mumbled, flinching as his foot throbbed.
The nurse clicked her tongue and lightly pressed her wand on Remus’s big toe. James, Sirius and Peter could see their friend relax. Madam Pomfrey seemed satisfied and returned to her office. Waiting a few moments so they were positive she would not reappear, the boys threw off the Invisibility Cloak.
“I’m sorry,” James apologised. “I wasn’t looking and I-”
“It’s okay.” Remus slowly rubbed his good foot against his bad one, hoping that this would not cause too much pain. It didn’t. “Maybe you guys should go back to the common room. I really should go to sleep.”
The boys nodded and stood up. There was no point in arguing. Remus needed his rest and they had to get back anyhow. Besides, it was only a matter of time before Sirius did something stupid, now that James already had. They bid Remus goodnight, put on the Invisibility Cloak, and began making their slow progress to Gryffindor Tower. The boys walked quietly through the now black corridors, sidestepping the suits of armor when they veered too closely to them. Their minds wandered towards the conversation between Madam Pomfrey and Professor Twikom. Would their new professor have prejudices against their friend? If she was related to Greyback, it wasn’t such a far-fetched idea… was it?
The Gryffindor fourth years sat in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom that Thursday afternoon with the Slytherins. Neither group of students was very happy about this arrangement. The year before the Gryffindors had been with the Hufflepuffs, and the Ravenclaws the year before that. Both of those pairings were bearable, enjoyable, but not this one. They already had to endure Potions with the Slytherins, whose brilliant brainchild was it to put them together a second time? The students attempted to alleviate the situation by sitting on opposite ends of the room “ Gryffindors on the left and Slytherins on the right. This didn’t work.
Professor Twikom had obviously predicted what would happen, as she immediately had a solution. The solution, however, was not to either house’s benefit. She decided to sit one Gryffindor with one Slytherin and hope that they would stifle their animosity for the time being. Each student was now battling with the idea of whether or not their professor was delusional. She was not a stranger to Hogwarts and not to this particular group of students, as she was their substitute for a week last year. A week was more than enough time to realise which students despised each other. As it was, she must not have remembered this, or chose to neglect it.
The class was miserably settled in their assigned seats. James sat grudgingly next to Evan Rosier, who looked as if he was repressing the urge to hex James from under his death. James’s face was turning red, doubtlessly from the same effort. Sirius was planted next to Abrac Zabini; both boys looked as if they had swallowed a considerable quantity of Stinksap. Peter was placed beside Phillip Bullstrode, though they looked as if they had reached an agreement to wallow in their annoyance at a later time. Remus sat beside a particularly disgruntled Severus Snape.
Professor Twikom was droning on about some hexes or other that the students did not care about, disgusted as they were with the seating arrangement. Her voice therefore became a buzz in the background as they all contemplated the many ways in which they could put the seating to their advantage. As of yet, they had come up with nothing. The Gryffindors were ready to overtake the Slytherins, and the Slytherins were ready to overtake the Gryffindors. Whenever the situation presented itself, they would be ready. For the moment, they would sit in a stony silence.
They were assigned to read the chapter on Tripping Jinxes for the next fifteen minutes, an immediate cause for low, mutinous conversation. Professor Twikom, at the very least, allowed this. The students propped their books up so they could whisper to their housemates that may have been sitting behind them, in front of them, or on the opposite side at another desk. They were searching for any way to communicate. Peter was sitting behind Remus and sat up so he could tap his friend on the shoulder.
“What was the woman thinking?” Peter hissed, his eyes wide at the absurdity of the idea of sitting Gryffindors beside Slytherins.
“That we should bury our prejudices for an hour?” Remus suggested, his voice mocking.
“She’s hoping for a miracle.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Hey, are you going to talk to her about-”
“About the reading?”
Peter raised an eyebrow at his friend, before realising why he was cut off. Of course Remus didn’t want his Lycanthropy mentioned while he was sitting next to Severus Snape.
“Yeah, about that.”
“No, I think I’ve got it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” He dropped his voice even lowered and blocked his mouth from Snape’s view with his hand. “I really don’t want to think about my professor being related to that.”
Peter’s eyes darted to his right and he noticed that Snape’s eyes had frozen on the page. He was listening in. “Anyway, better start reading this.” He leaned back and drew his book closer.
Remus began reading the chapter, only stopping when he felt someone’s eyes on him. He turned his head somewhat and saw Snape was watching him. “Yes?”
“How are you feeling?” There was no definable tone in Snape’s voice, it was frighteningly neutral.
“Fine, why?”
“You weren’t in school for a couple of days.”
“I was feeling sick.”
“I don’t remember seeing you on the train either.”
Remus bit the inside of his cheek. Why was it that all of the sudden Snape had so much time to notice when Remus was and was not places where he should be? “Why do you care?”
“You’re Lily’s friend.”
“I don’t think-”
“And Lily’s my friend.”
“What does this have to do with-?”
“So I’m concerned when one of my friends is worried about one of her friends.”
“Drop it, Snape.”
“She’s always wondering why you disappear every month. It’s strange, your illness, does it always occur once a month?”
Remus slammed his textbook down, causing a rather large thud that drew the attention of his classmates. He threw them a warning look and they went back to their work. “You know, why don’t you just stop thinking about all of this?”
“It’s not something I choose to wonder about.”
“I think you do, and it’s none of your business. You don’t have to care or wonder why I get sick, so just stay out of it. Do you understand me?”
The corners of Snape’s mouth turned up for the quickest of seconds. “Understood.”