Chapter Text
PART 1: 'NO FRIENDSHIP IS AN ACCIDENT' - O. Henry
Remus had gone to the Hospital Wing around lunchtime on Saturday, feeling too unwell to continue to pretend everything was fine. He consoled himself with the fact that leaving mid-day would be consistent with his story of going home to visit his mother.
Madam Pomfrey gave Remus a sleeping draft ('better get some sleep in now, Lupin, before this evening.') and Remus was, for the first time in his life, allowed a break from his aching body so close to the full moon.
'Just come and see me in the days leading to the transformation and we can see what we can do about managing your symptoms,' Madam Pomfrey said later with the sort of brisk efficiency that held more promise to Remus than any number of kind words, after he finally shared his struggles leading up to this evening. 'Alright, put this cloak on, and then follow me.'
The afternoon had passed in blissful sleep and it was time to leave the comforts of the Hospital Wing. Remus knew the plan - he knew about the empty house Dumbledore had had built in Hogsmeade, about how it was only accessible via the secret tunnel that was in turn guarded by the vicious Whomping Willow. To Remus, the idea that this house, this tunnel, this tree, would permit him to hide his true identity - his monstrous self - from the other students and villagers still seemed farfetched, but Remus also knew that Albus Dumbledore was the greatest wizard alive. He had to trust him.
Hidden from view (courtesy of the invisibility cloak Madam Pomfrey had lent him) Remus followed the matron out the castle. If anyone asked what she was doing, Madam Pomfrey replied that she was going to deliver something to the gamekeeper Hagrid, and Remus managed without too much difficulty to stay out of the way of passing students.
There were still students watching the Whomping Willow, and for a moment, it felt like Remus' heart stopped as he saw no way they would get past all those onlookers. However, he had not taken into account how fierce the matron could be, yelling at the students about their reckless behaviour, and promising no aid should they be injured. Soon all the students had hurried far away.
Once they were sure they were alone, Madam Pomfrey used a long stick to hit a button under the Whomping Willow and the tree froze long enough for the two of them to sneak into the tunnel. It was all so strange, and yet Remus knew that this would become routine and as familiar to him as the dormitory he slept in. There was no cure for lycanthropy and no matter what Remus did or where Remus went, he would always need to transform. In the coming years, this journey to and from the empty house was going to be part of his beastly ritual. The newness, however temporary, nevertheless helped take his mind off the upcoming transformation.
These were always going to be the most difficult years of his life. The few adults he knew talked about their teenage years with a mix of nostalgia and horror, but to Remus the real terror lay in the discrepancy between the adult wolf and his childlike human body.
His transformations had never been easy but they had become worse as the wolf grew, just as the growing wolf had created more and more challenges for Lyall Lupin in his desperate attempt to keep Remus' condition hidden from the world. Remus' body would not only change from human to wolf, but from child to adult, and for some reason this took a greater toll on his body than it did when the wolf had been young. He had been told that when he became an adult, like the wolf, the transformation would not be as torturous, though nobody seemed to suggest they would ever stop being awful. And then, of course, there was the damage he would inflict on himself as the wolf. Isolated from other humans to bite, the wolf clawed and bit the only living being it did have access to.
Madam Pomfrey showed Remus the rooms in the empty house, and left him in the bedroom, advising him to lay down and rest until the transformation took its course. Remus knew the matron had to leave, knew that no human could be near him, but that didn't stop him from feeling abandoned and - which he truly was - alone.
Whether the wolf too was entertained by the newness of the house, or whether it was the freedom that a whole house offered, Remus found himself remarkably unhurt the following morning. After a quick look over by Madam Pomfrey including some application of dittany on the few deeper cuts she could find, Remus was able to walk back to the Hospital Wing. He was aware the wolf had left the house in a considerably worse state than before the transformation, but every scratch mark he saw on the walls and furniture just provided a sense of relief that it wasn't his own skin that had suffered.
Remus was exhausted, but pleased, when he was safely back in bed in the Hospital Wing. The day after a transformation was simultaneously the worst and best day of the month. He might be beaten-up, sore, exhausted, incoherent and in every way unwell, but from that moment onwards, Remus knew that things would continue to improve, until around the half-moon leading up to the following full moon.
'He'll be alright, won't he?'
Remus stiffened. The voice was unfamiliar but it had to belong to a boy that was about Remus' age. Opening his eyes, Remus realised he was well-hidden behind some privacy screens.
'He will be just fine once I am done with him, but you have both been very foolish, going so near that tree.'
That was Madam Pomfrey speaking.
Remus blinked a couple of times, as if it would help clear his head. Someone was in the Hospital Wing and had recently, if Remus guessed correctly, been near the Whomping Willow (or another violent tree, if another such existed) and was now needing the matron's help.
Why nobody could leave the damn tree alone was beyond Remus' understanding.
Then, Remus started worrying it was either James or Sirius again. It sounded like whoever it was who had taken a beating this time was unconscious, otherwise the boy would have asked the other directly. But no, James and Sirius had said they weren't ever planning to go near it again.
'I'll go and fetch Professor Sprout,' an older, female voice said. 'I think she ought to know what has happened.'
'I agree, thank you Miss Bones,' Madam Pomfrey answered.
Professor Sprout was head of Hufflepuff so that confirmed that it was neither Sirius nor James - nor anyone else Remus knew. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.
'Now, I want you to tell me what happened,' Madam Pomfrey said, and Remus suspected she was talking to the young boy who had asked about his friend.
The boy explained how the two had been trying to get near the trunk: 'it's a game, see?' the boy said, sounding like he was eager for Madam Pomfrey to understand, 'lots of people have tried to touch the trunk - it wasn't just us. And everyone has been fine. We would have been fine too, but then Davey saw the tunnel.'
It felt like someone had taken out all the air out of Remus' lungs. The no longer secret tunnel. This was bad.
'The tunnel?' Madam Pomfrey asked, and Remus was impressed at how steady her voice sounded, like she was just gathering facts.
'Yeah, he told me there was a tunnel, and that I had to see - and that's when - when...'
When the branch had hit the boy straight in the face, as Madam Pomfrey was able to extract only after calming the boy, whom Remus learned was called Stebbins. But Remus couldn't have cared less about how the boy was injured at that point, all he could think about was that the tunnel had been discovered.
'So,' Madam Pomfrey said, 'Gudgeon here saw a tunnel. Are you sure it wasn't just an odd shadow?'
'I saw it too, I saw where Davey pointed before -.., and there it was! A tunnel!'
'Sometimes I find a good memory unforgivable,' said a calm voice that Remus recognised as Albus Dumbledore.
'Headmaster!' Madam Pomfrey squealed, 'I didn't -'
'I was lucky enough to run into young Amelia Bones and she explained what had happened. Now Stebbins, tell me, did you mention the tunnel to Miss Bones?'
'N-no, professor Dumbledore,' the boy answered, and Remus could hear the tremor in his voice as he was addressing their headmaster.
'And had you ever heard talk of such a tunnel before?'
'No, professor Dumbledore,' the boy repeated.
Professor Dumbledore muttered something, and Remus had a suspicion the headmaster was using magic as the air in the Hospital Wing seemed to shift ever so slightly.
'Really, Headmaster, memory spells can be very dangerous...'
'My dearest Poppy, I am well aware of that fact, but it was no trouble removing such a small part of young Stebbins' memory. Now, I trust you to do an equally good job of removing Gudgeon's memory should it be necessary, but we can hope that his head injury prevents him from remembering the tunnel at all.'
'I shall not hope for any such thing,' Madam Pomfrey said hotly, then she sighed, 'but I will remove his memory should it be necessary. However, this tree is becoming a problem - I had my hands full getting everyone away from it last night, and we cannot continue to wipe the students memories ever other day.'
'Ah, that's right... How is young Lupin? Did everything go to plan?'
'He's fine. He's sleeping at the moment.'
At those words Remus closed his eyes, even though he knew they couldn't see him.
Madam Pomfrey continued: 'Everything went exactly according to what you had said, except - I repeat - the students swarming around that tree like bowtruckles on doxy eggs.'
There was a silence, before Madam Pomfrey spoke again: 'Can't you ban students from going near it? Use the boy's injury as an excuse, if you must. It's a lucky thing he didn't lose an eye, or was killed for that matter.'
'I can certainly do that Poppy, and I think perhaps it is the wisest path open to us, however, bans may sometimes have the opposite effect.'
'That's a risk I suggest we take.'
Remus wholeheartedly agreed with the matron.
Professor Dumbledore didn't seem to argue, instead he said: 'Young Stebbins will wake up soon. He might not even realise he's been unconscious, and I believe it best if you don't correct him on that account. I will see to the ban. Let me know if there are any developments I should be aware of with regards to young Gudgeon. Or better still, Pomona should be here soon enough. I am sure she will inform me should it be necessary.'
'It shouldn't. The boy's head injury is not consequential.'
'Well, that is good news indeed.'
Although professor Dumbledore didn't say anything further on the matter, Remus guessed he must have looked on the verge of speaking, because Madam Pomfrey asked: 'Headmaster?'
'It may be wise to encourage Pomona to take a few points of the two boys - just as a precaution. I appreciate that there was no rule in place at the time of the incident, but if we are to prevent students going near the Whomping Willow we may as well do the job properly. Ah, I see young Stebbins is stirring - that will be my cue to leave.'
'You have a letter,' Madam Pomfrey said as she came to check on Remus a few hours later. She handed him an envelope and took his food away. Remus recognised his mother's handwriting. After everything he had been through in the last few days, the usual but unbearable pain of the transformation, the guilt at the inconvenience he was creating for everyone, he felt a powerful surge of longing for home, and especially his mother.
Remus was surprised to find another letter enclosed with that of his mother, but his curiosity did not outweigh how much he missed Hope, and Remus began reading the letter from his mum.
My dearest Remus,
Your father and I have just received a letter from Madam Pomfrey giving us an update on your health as of Saturday noon. It is now but Saturday evening and I know you will be getting ready for the transformation. I can't pretend it does not pain me not to be with you, my darling son, but your father and I know that you are well-looked after, and that you possess a rare and admirable strength. By the time this letter reaches you, you will once more have endured another transformation, and I cannot begin to tell you how proud we are of you.
How transforming into a monster was anything to be proud of, Remus didn't know, but he had never been able to get his parents to stop saying that.
If it should prove too much, being in school, you must let us know my love. There is no shame in trying and realising something does not work. And should you need your father to come and visit before or after a transformation, you must not be afraid to ask. He misses you dearly (as do I), and we want to do everything we can to support you.
On the topic of support, I have enclosed a letter that arrived here, which is from your class-mates. Oh Remus dear, I can't believe you have already gotten such lovely and caring friends. As much as we miss you, nothing would please us more than knowing you are with boys your own age for once, and forming experiences that will last you a life-time.
We love you to the new moon and back,
Mum xx
Remus held onto the letter for some time, re-reading it and tracing the letters his mother had written. It was like receiving a loving hug, and yet it left something to be desired: his mother's warmth, her smell, the fabric of her clothes. He hadn't realised he was crying until a tear fell on the paper, and Remus quickly wiped it off, hoping it didn't blotch a single letter.
"If it should prove too much ... let us know," his mother had offered. Maybe it was too much. Not the transformations, but the risks associated with staying in school.
The boy that had been beaten by the Whomping Willow had luckily woken up not long after Dumbledore left. Professor Sprout had considered him sufficiently well to spend a good fifteen minutes lecturing him and his friend about the danger of what they had been doing and Madam Pomfrey had removed any memory Gudgeon had of the incident ('to be on the safe side,' she explained to Remus who had confessed to hearing the conversation with Dumbledore, being unable to hide how nervous he was about the discovery of the tunnel). Yet, if this discovery had happened so soon after his arrival, it was just a matter of time before someone made the same discovery again.
For something to do, Remus turned to his other letter, he found a shortly scribbled note:
Remus,
We were sorry to hear about your mother. Hopefully she will recover soon and we will see you back at Hogwarts.
Next time (Peter says there might be - but we all hope there won't), say goodbye before you leave (don't just leave us a note).
Let us know if there's anything we can do.
James, Peter and Sirius.
It wasn't much, but the hurriedly scribbled letter meant the world to Remus. "As much as we miss you, nothing would please us more than knowing you are with boys your own age for once, and forming experiences that will last you a life-time." Maybe it wasn't time to write to ask to come home just yet. Maybe sneaking around, lying, hiding, could be worth it. Because Hogwarts offered something his parents never could: it offered a world in which he was just another boy, another boy with friends and classmates and homework and everything that had seemed impossible a few months earlier.