The Wounded (Remus Lupin, Secret Santa for Dusty15) part 8/?

[Dusty15]

16 minutes ago, RiversD said:

He retrieved his handkerchief while the feeling was still in its infancy and spread it between his hands, the cotton freshly clean and soft again. He had invested in a pair of self-cleaning handkerchiefs a few years ago, and never yet had cause to regret it.

AH YES THE MIRACLE OF THE WIZARDING WORLD! So convenient!  

16 minutes ago, RiversD said:

He buried it in his handkerchief and followed it up with a gurgling blow.  Then he toppled slowly sideways onto his pillow, weighed down by his leaden head, and lay still, soaking up the temporary relief that came from no longer having to bear his own weight.

Oh man....such a great description. The bed flop is a trademark move of mine when feeling ill. 

18 minutes ago, RiversD said:

His colds had a nasty habit of turning very nasty very fast, and there was nothing he could do about it when they did but wait it out.

YES OKAY

19 minutes ago, RiversD said:

He purchased small gifts for each of the children who had gone with Harry to the Ministry, then sat in the Leaky Cauldron for a while writing little notes to go with them. He spent more time than he had meant to over these letters. A returning fondness for each child he had got to know in his short time at Hogwarts meant that he lingered over them, trying to write something that was suited to them individually.

Um this is the sweetest thing ever. <3

20 minutes ago, RiversD said:

“Mind you, I had a second cousin once,” the wizard continued. “Might have been third, actually. On my mother’s side, at any rate. Allergic to feathers, poor woman. That’s a cruel burden for any witch to bear, it really is.”

“I imagine so,” Remus agreed. He could feel his nose starting to run again, egged on by the acrid cocktail of owl-related smells. He sniffed it back, he hoped with some degree of subtlety.

“Communicated by Niffler come the end, poor soul… Right, that’ll be two sickles, four knuts, thanks.”

Remus paid, knowing that the mysteries of Niffler-based communication would haunt his thoughts for some considerable time, but not willing to stay here for the time it would take to extract the relevant details.

 This was TOO FUNNY!! The fact that Niffler based communications would haunt his thoughts is so funny to me for some reason. A brilliant addition.

24 minutes ago, RiversD said:

Arthur was giving him a look that brooked no argument. Remus caved.

“Alright, I’ll go down and see her tomorrow. Promise.”

OH YES OKAY  Knock some sense and cold medicine into him, Tonks! <3 

[Shamaël]

That was a great, great update. Let's go for the detailed comments...

10 hours ago, RiversD said:

soaking up the temporary relief that came from no longer having to bear his own weight.

I love this half-sentence. Because it's really the way you felt when you're ill and miserable...

10 hours ago, RiversD said:

He knew this cold would get its claws into his chest soon- they always did, and he could feel weight settling in his lungs already- but he wasn’t about to encourage it.

Oh poor Remus!!! (I can't say I'm not eager to see what will become of his cold, but I feel sorry for him nonetheless).

10 hours ago, RiversD said:

He would, just as soon as…as…

Remus’ nose interrupted his thought with a thorn of irritation so sudden and intense that his body was reacting to it before his mind had even registered the sensation.

“hah-aisSSCHEW!”

Okay, you just killed me here, but never mind.

10 hours ago, RiversD said:

Well. That was one way to shift a bit of congestion, he supposed. Not necessarily the one he would have chosen, but it seemed to be over now.

Mwahaha! That's not fun, but I like Remus' inner thoughts.

10 hours ago, RiversD said:

Remus paid, knowing that the mysteries of Niffler-based communication would haunt his thoughts for some considerable time, but not willing to stay here for the time it would take to extract the relevant details.

Okay, that was funny.

10 hours ago, RiversD said:

“Bad luck.” Arthur gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm as he sat and let the subject drop, which Remus appreciated.

Have I already said thet I love Arthur?

10 hours ago, RiversD said:

However, it soon became clear that his nose was in no mood to be placated by any of his usual tricks, and he resigned himself, turning his back on the table and burying his nose in the waiting cloth.

“ha’tzzSCHhew!”

Whew. Remus was surprised at how relieving it was to sneeze. Assorted parts of his inflamed airways very quickly spoiled it with a whole array of objections, but that empty moment immediately post-sneeze was bliss.

What can I say? I... enjoyed both the spelling and the whole piece (in fact I just stopped breathing when I read it, but it's all right, I've recovered now.).

10 hours ago, RiversD said:

“Because she cares about you, Remus, don’t be an idiot!”

The sentence was delivered with uncharacteristic force for Arthur, and Fred and George turned to look, perhaps recognising a tone they had been recipients of on occasion.

Oooooh yes I LOVE him!

To sum up it was amazing.

 

[queenie]

OK, Rivers, you're doing a great job making me feel full of pathos and pity. Not sure my heartstrings can take the strain. 

[camillapapen]

Yes yes yes! This is so brilliant and I love where it is going. Can't wait for the next part.

[frolicking periwinkle]

This is wonderful!! So dark and utterly, realistic. The cold. The moon. The feeling of running. I want to know all aboit all of it.  

 

And i love that you brought Arthur into it. He's perfect

[RiversD]

Right! Sorry this took so long, I kept wussing out of the emotional stuff because I'm a wimp and I don't do expressing my feelings.

@Dusty15 Thanks so much for this! It makes me really happy that you pointed out the bits that worked for you, and that I'm still more-or-less serving your wants with this (I'm also very glad niffler-communications didn't come off as too ridiculous).

On 07/01/2017 at 2:45 AM, Dusty15 said:

The bed flop is a trademark move of mine when feeling ill. 

It's the moment I know productivity-time is over, tbh.

On 07/01/2017 at 2:45 AM, Dusty15 said:

Um this is the sweetest thing ever. <3

Remus is the sweetest thing ever. I can but try to illuminate this.

@Aliena H. You know I love your comments, babe. Thanks for sticking with this!

On 07/01/2017 at 1:12 PM, Aliena H. said:

I love this half-sentence. Because it's really the way you felt when you're ill and miserable...

I was quite proud of that little bit, I will admit...

I'm very glad I can still 'kill' you from time to time with this . And that you're still enjoying Arthur. He's a babe.

 

 

On 08/01/2017 at 4:11 AM, queenie said:

OK, Rivers, you're doing a great job making me feel full of pathos and pity. Not sure my heartstrings can take the strain. 

*blushes deeply* This is excellent news.

 

On 11/01/2017 at 8:44 AM, camillapapen said:

Yes yes yes! This is so brilliant and I love where it is going. Can't wait for the next part.

Sorry It was such a long wait! But I'm glad you're enjoying this!

@frenchposie Thank you! You flatter me, but i love it .

So!

 

Part VI

Remus spent most of the next morning regretting his promise to Arthur. He could feel his temperature rising as he washed, the water harsh and unnaturally cold against his suddenly-sensitive skin. That didn’t bode well.

A fever could thoroughly undo him in a matter of hours, he knew. Less, if he tried to push through it, which he had done more often than he was prepared to admit. It was always so hard to tell if it was going to be a simmering, low-grade affair that would leave him just about functional (he had taught through one once, though he didn’t remember much about it), or the Other Sort. The Other Sort made it very difficult to be either vertical or sensible, and practically impossible to be both at once.

By the time he got to St Mungo’s, Remus had good reason to suspect that this was turning into the Other Sort. The journey had not been an enjoyable one. His limbs didn’t feel as though they quite belonged to him, and the summer heat, which ought to have been pleasant, just left him feeling dizzy. His head was swimming as he tried to decipher the hospital signage on the way to Tonks’ room.

Finding it eventually, he paused outside the door to get his breath back, leaning against the cool hospital wall and feeling gooseflesh run up his arms in protest. He shivered and, almost as an afterthought, sneezed.

“hh’ssscheh!”

He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his nose and hands, then took a couple of steadying breaths before taking his weight back onto his trembling legs. He went in, feeling a tingling sensation pass over his fingers and lips as the sterilisation charms did their work.

The ward had the washed-out colour scheme and vaguely antiseptic smell that had haunted most hospitals of Remus’ experience, and contained only four patients, two of whom were fast asleep.

Remus thought that Tonks was sleeping too at first, but she opened her eyes as he got closer, and turned her head to watch him approach. She looked drained, he thought, and weirdly still, lacking that aura of vibrant energy she usually projected. Her face seemed to have a few too many shadows now, though that could have been a trick of the light. Still, she looked pleased enough to see him.

“Wotcher, Remus.”

He made his best attempt at a smile. “You called?”

Tonks squinted up at him and pulled a face.

“… You look terrible.”

Remus had to laugh at that, which unfortunately then meant he had to cough. When this didn’t show any signs of stopping quickly, he sank down onto one of the visitors’ chairs while he tried his best not to hack up half a lung.

He wasn’t sure at what point the tears stumbling onto his cheeks ceased to be purely generated by the exertion and he began to actually weep under the bitter absurdity of it all, but it was distressingly difficult to stop.

Finally gaining some measure of control, he straightened up, pressing his handkerchief from one eye to the other, and swallowed hard.

“Goodness. I’m awfully sorry. I’m not sure where that came from.”

Beside him, he heard Tonks take a slow, whistling breath through her teeth.

“When Arthur said you weren’t feeling well, I thought you’d just have the sniffles. You look wretched.”

“It wasn’t so bad yesterday,” Remus wheezed. “But I sound worse than I feel, honestly. And what about you? I’ve been worried. Not that I doubt your resilience, but Bellatrix doesn’t pull her punches. And no-one could give me a clear idea of what she used on you.”

Tonks didn’t seem entirely convinced by his deflection, but she accepted the change of topic nonetheless. “Yeah, well, it didn’t exactly come out of the Standard Book of Spells. Some of the stuff Bellatrix is casting these days is old-school homebrew. If we’re lucky, she’ll blow her own arm off experimenting one of these days.”

“Can’t happen too soon for my liking. How bad was it?”

Tonks started to shrug, then apparently thought better of the movement. “Hard to say exactly. I was unconscious for the worst of it. The healers said something about my internal organs being compressed. Oh, not all of them!” she added, seeing his face. “Just the lower down ones.”

Remus gaped at her. “Tonks, that sounds dreadful!”

“Yeah,” Tonks shifted uncomfortably under her covers. “Felt like I was on fire for a while there, but I think it’s healing pretty well now. You know Bella. She’s more concerned with the pain she can cause than in permanently incapacitating you.”

“That doesn’t exactly reassure me.”

“Sorry, is that what I was supposed to be doing?”

Somehow, that was more reassuring than anything else would have been. Remus shook his head and swiped the back of one hand across his eyes, which were still damper than he’d like. When he looked back, Tonks was staring at him with worrying intensity. Her voice was soft, however, and slightly distant, as though she were only vocalising the tail end of a train of thought.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry.”

“I really wish that was still the case. I’m sorry.”

She clicked her tongue at him. “Stop apologising, Remus. I’m perfectly alright.”

Remus half-choked on an incredulous laugh.

“Like hell you are.”

“Well, neither are you!”

The total certainty in her voice told Remus there was no point pretending not to understand. Tonks always had favoured the direct approach. It was one reason that she and Sirius had got along so well, on the occasions they weren’t butting heads over something. He ought to have seen this coming, really. He stared at his knees and tried to see what came next through the fog of pounding fever pressing up against his skull.

He heard Tonks sigh, very mildly exasperated at this reaction.

“Grief isn’t something you need to hide, Remus. Don’t act as though I’ve caught you doing something shameful.”

“I’m not ashamed,” Remus protested. “I just don’t know-” his voice cracked and he turned aside to cough sharply into his hand, feeling it be sterilised almost as soon as he had done so. “’Scuse me. I don’t understand what you want from me.”

“I want you to let me be your friend, Remus. I want you to stop pretending so hard and let your friends care about you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It was a stupid, stubborn, overly-defensive response, he knew. But what little he could sense of this conversation’s bearing was making his nervous instincts kick in a way he didn’t have the energy to fight right now. He wasn’t ready to go there.

Unfortunately for him, Tonks was done giving him chances to misunderstand her.

“Remus, I know you loved him.”

Remus tensed so abruptly that he almost bit into his tongue. Jaw tight, brain panicking, he forced out the word,

“Don’t.”

“Remus, look at me.”

He didn’t want to, but somehow he had obeyed before his brain could communicate that to the rest of him. And once Tonks had his gaze, she held it, eyes currently a truly unfair shade of purple, and full of too much sympathy for him to bear. She started to reach out, but let her hand fall on the bed between them.

“Remus, please. Don’t run away.”

“I’m not planning to.” It was true enough, after all, though the angry snap to his insistence was born out of pure guilt. “Credit me with some sense of responsibility, Nymphadora.”

There was a pause just long enough for the guilt to really start to bite before Tonks said, “I know you’re trying to make me feel like the child in this conversation, Remus, and it’s not going to work.”

Remus winced.

“I’m sorry, Tonks. I wasn’t trying to-”

“Maybe not consciously. But you want me to shut up, and doing that seemed like an easy way to get there.”

Remus didn’t know what to say to that. He could hardly deny wanting to get out of this conversation. His head hurt, his chest ached, and he could feel himself starting to shake, though at this point it was anyone’s guess whether that was a result of the fever or another side-effect of these inconveniently debilitating emotions.

The silence stretched between them until Tonks lifted her hand and took his before he could move it out of the way.

“The last thing anyone would accuse you of lacking is responsibility, Remus. I just want to make sure you don’t think your responsibilities are all you’re living for.”

Remus screwed his eyes tight shut, blocking her out. He could feel the tears starting again and he didn’t want them to. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be someone else, somewhere else, who didn’t feel like utter and complete shit. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

Tonks broke the tension for him, her hand tightening sharply on his.

“Wait, are you-”

He heard her move, but didn’t realise what she was about until her hand touched his cheek. Surprised, he flinched hard back against the chair, jarring his shoulder quite badly.

“You idiot, Remus,” she hissed. “‘Sounds worse than it is’ my arse! How high a fever are you running right now?”

Remus blinked at her, technically understanding the words but lacking the mental agility to cope with this sudden shift in direction.

“Don’t know.” He managed. To judge from Tonks’ face, this didn’t do much to allay her concerns. She sat back and stared at him in what looked upsettingly like horror.

“If you’d said, I wouldn’t have…You must be feeling like hell. Why did you even come?”

“Promised Arthur,” Remus muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. It did feel quite warm. “He said you needed to talk w’me.”

“Well I do, but- not in the state you’re in! For goodness’ sake, Remus, I could boil a kettle on your face!”

Remus swallowed hard. His chest felt too tight. “M’sorry.”

“Sor- no, Remus, I’m sorry.” Tonks grasped his hand again. “I just wanted to make sure you knew I was here for you. I was worried you might be closing yourself off, that was all.”

“Closing off?” Remus frowned at her. He was being stupid, he knew, but somehow he couldn’t make himself understand what she was trying to say. Everything felt hot and thick and wrong.

Tonks squeezed his hand again.

“It’s okay, Remus. I know Sirius meant more to you than any of us, but I- I just don’t want you to start believing he was all you had. I know he was, once. And I know he always filled the world when he was around and he’s left a hole no-one else can even try to fill. But that doesn’t mean you’re alone now, Remus.  You’re not, and I won’t let you be. But for now, you should go home. This can wait until you’re well enough to take it.”

“Thanks.”

Perhaps that wasn’t quite the right thing to say, but it was all Remus had. Besides, that felt like an end to the interview, for which he was certainly grateful. He just wanted to get out of here and curl up somewhere he could be miserable in peace. Time to go home, alright.

It wasn’t until Tonks prompted him with a gentle nudge to his knee that he realised he hadn’t actually made any move to leave.

“Remus?”

“Right. Going. Yes.” He pushed himself up out of the chair and headed down the ward at a brisk pace, or the closest thing to it he could muster.

He had stood up too fast, he could tell that immediately, but decided to push through the dizzy rush of nausea that resulted. Best to keep moving. His body ought to catch up with itself soon. Grey swirls at the edges of sight were rapidly narrowing his vision to a point, but they would fade.

The ringing in his ears was a real distraction though, as was the sudden sensation of a change in temperature. He had felt so hot sitting down, but now his arms and head felt weirdly cold, and his mouth tasted of tin.

His legs weren’t moving right. Remus stumbled, failed to re-balance himself, and realised he was fainting just too late for the knowledge to do him any good.

[lilysneeze]

Remus fainting? OMG. Poor baby though. He needs infinite cuddles seriously. Always running himself ragged. I'm really enjoying your story. Beautiful characterization!

[Dusty15]

Ahhhh @RiversD! I'm so excited and I feel so spoiled to have all of this story and more to still come!  I will re-read and comment more in depth later if I'm able but for now I'll say that I love the interaction with Tonks and you so beautifully depict the uncomfortable, delirious feeling of going out in public with a cold and a fever! I definitely felt major sympathy for Remus in that state!

[queenie]

This is horrible, Rivers! You're torturing poor Remys and you're torturing me! How soon can I expect more agony; I want to block it off in my google calendar so I won't be disturbed. 

[darkness-is-the-light]

Oh, the poor thing. This is exactly what I needed to read, angst with some fluffiness. It's beautifully written and I can play it out like a movie in my head. I'll be happily waiting for the next section. 

[RiversD]

@lilysneeze Remus deserves all of the cuddles. And yet somehow, I keep hurting him. Poor. poor boy.

@Dusty15 Yay! Thank you! I'm so glad you're still getting good things out of this!

@queenie ...sorry. I kinda mentioned this was gonna get whumpy, but... yeah, sorry. Ish. I'm glad you'll be coming back for more, though! This next part is shorter, but he's not much happier, I'm afraid.

@Sophie83540 Awwwwh! Thank you, really and truly. This made me really happy to read.

 

Also: Yeah, yeah, he'd probably need longer than this, but this is all the dialogue you're getting.

 

Part VII

Remus jerked awake, feeling as though he had just inhaled silt. He choked, and firm hands supported him as he coughed.

“That’s it, you’re alright. Do you know where you are?”

“St Mungo’s,” muttered Remus thickly, his tongue refusing to wake up quite as quickly as the rest of him. There was a healer in front of him, lime-green robes filling most of the visible universe.

“That’s right. I’m Healer Brunswick. What’s your name?”

“Remus Lupin. Look, I’m alright really, it’s just this fever…”

“Yes, I think I can agree with you there,” said Brunswick cheerily. “I’m going to give you something to help with that, and then we-”

“No!” Remus lifted a hand and clumsily blocked his mouth with it, in case the healer got any ideas about feeding him potions before he was done. “I can’t. Can’t take it.”

“Why not?”

“I’m taking Wolfsbane. Won’t mix.”

“Oh.” Healer Brunswick’s instinctive recoil was slight, but Remus caught it. “I see.”

“I’ll be fine, honestly.” Remus struggled to relocate his legs, feeling that this point would be much better made while supporting his own weight.

“Well…” the healer sounded uncertain. One benefit, if you could call it that, of Remus’ condition was that healers tended to give his opinion more weight than it deserved with regard to his own health. Not enough of them had studied lycanthropy in enough depth to know the subtle differences it made to his human physiology.

He tapped his wand to Remus’ forehead, creating an electric stab of pain and also causing a thin gold ribbon to emerge from its tip. Remus recognised the technique as one for taking a patient’s temperature, but didn’t try very hard to read the number, which was back-to-front to him in any case.

“Thirty-nine point four.” Healer Brunswick tapped the floor distractedly and sighed noisily through his nose. “Well… I’d say your current disorientation is largely a result of dehydration.”

“That’s very pr-probable.” Remus paused on his knees, struck by an errant tickle, and lifted an arm to sneeze into his elbow.

“hht’chhiew! Sorry.”

A clean handkerchief was pressed into his hand.

“Don’t be. Look, I’m not going to force you to take a bed if you’re capable of getting home alright. I think I can let you go under your own steam if you keep a few units of fluid down and you can walk yourself out unaided.”

“Absolutely. Sounds fine.” Remus brushed himself off, burning with a lethal combination of fever-flush and embarrassment.

To his relief, the healer seemed content to pass him a large cup of water, see him safely to the chair beside Tonks, and make an exit. Tonks waited until he had left the ward entirely before turning back to Remus, eyebrows raised.

“Bloody hell, Remus.”

Remus managed half a chuckle, then had to take a drink.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Again, you really don’t need to be apologising.”

“Sor- um. Thanks.” He sniffed as delicately as he could, under the circumstances.

“Why didn’t he give you anything?” Tonks wanted to know.

“I’m on the Wolfsbane at the moment. There’s almost nothing I can have that won’t risk- well, you know.”

“Merlin,” Tonks fell back against her pillows. “Is the moon that close?”

“Tomorrow night.” Remus drew a crackling breath and set the water down so that he could cover the brief coughing fit that followed. He straightened up carefully in the aftermath and wiped his eyes, wondering that his body was still so eager to leak. No wonder he was dehydrated, given today’s performance.

When he gave his attention back to Tonks, he found her staring at him with a decidedly stricken look on her face. Great. That made his chest ache even more.

“I’ll be alright,” he lied. “I’m taking my Wolfsbane, so I should be able to get a bit of sleep between changes.”

“I can tell you’re lying, you know.”

Remus closed his eyes again. He’d lived with these people too long.

“Even if I am, there’s nothing anyone can do about it. I’ll just have to deal with it when it comes.”

“My point is, you shouldn’t have to deal with these things all by yourself.”

Remus shrugged, an action for which his neck failed to thank him. “I always have before.”

“Not always.” Tonks’ rejoinder was sharp to the point of admonition, and pulled Remus uncomfortably close to drowning in a vivid slew of memories, images filtered through the sensory maelstrom of his werewolf form.

Antlers held up to the full moon. The rush of paws and hooves across the forest floor, the ragged sounds of animal breathing, his own howls interspersed with the barks of a dog and the excited squeaking of the rat. The scent of friends…

Then more recent memories, less jarring to recall, the memories of a human mind in control of the wolf. The warm weight of Padfoot curled up against his aching side, a living breathing reminder that broken he might be, but he was not alone. Not alone…

Remus gave his thigh a vicious pinch, letting the pain pull him back to the present. He mustn’t go back. That was how you lost yourself.

He downed the rest of his water and stood up, carefully this time.

“I should go.”

“Alright.” Tonks sounded a little hurt by this abrupt end to things. He avoided looking directly at her in case she really was. “Feel better.”

Remus tapped the end of the bed awkwardly.

“Yeah, you too.”

And with that, he left her.

[Dusty15]

ACK MY HEART!  Poor guy. I love the head canon that he can't take anything because of Wolfsbane interference...it's so very convenient for fic!  I do hope Tonks is out of the hospital by dawn in two days' time so she can give him a proper smack and a good looking after!! 

[lilysneeze]

Ah the feelings... good job though, I hope someone will come to his rescue soon!

[AngelEyes]

On 2/22/2017 at 7:51 AM, RiversD said:

He had stood up too fast, he could tell that immediately, but decided to push through the dizzy rush of nausea that resulted. Best to keep moving. His body ought to catch up with itself soon. Grey swirls at the edges of sight were rapidly narrowing his vision to a point, but they would fade.

 

 

The ringing in his ears was a real distraction though, as was the sudden sensation of a change in temperature. He had felt so hot sitting down, but now his arms and head felt weirdly cold, and his mouth tasted of tin.

 

 

His legs weren’t moving right. Remus stumbled, failed to re-balance himself, and realised he was fainting just too late for the knowledge to do him any good.

I love this description of everything just slowly falling apart while he tries to push through but nope...

 

On 2/26/2017 at 4:40 PM, RiversD said:

Antlers held up to the full moon. The rush of paws and hooves across the forest floor, the ragged sounds of animal breathing, his own howls interspersed with the barks of a dog and the excited squeaking of the rat. The scent of friends…

Love this.

[Shamaël]

On 22/02/2017 at 2:51 PM, RiversD said:

I'm very glad I can still 'kill' you from time to time with this

Don't worry, I come back from the dead very easily...

I've been away for a while and you've been updating twice - oh my God, thank you!!!

On 22/02/2017 at 2:51 PM, RiversD said:

He shivered and, almost as an afterthought, sneezed.

That was a good start. Love the sentence.

On 22/02/2017 at 2:51 PM, RiversD said:

“Yeah, well, it didn’t exactly come out of the Standard Book of Spells. Some of the stuff Bellatrix is casting these days is old-school homebrew. If we’re lucky, she’ll blow her own arm off experimenting one of these days.”

This is really in character - it really sounds like Tonks. Did I mention that I love Tonks? (I'm afraid J.K. Rowling just looked inside my head and decided to kill ALL my favorite characters, except Hermione. (sigh))

On 22/02/2017 at 2:51 PM, RiversD said:

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry.”

“I really wish that was still the case.

Well, I'm not going to write that you almost killed me here, but... 

On 22/02/2017 at 2:51 PM, RiversD said:

He had stood up too fast, he could tell that immediately, but decided to push through the dizzy rush of nausea that resulted. Best to keep moving. His body ought to catch up with itself soon. Grey swirls at the edges of sight were rapidly narrowing his vision to a point, but they would fade.

The ringing in his ears was a real distraction though, as was the sudden sensation of a change in temperature. He had felt so hot sitting down, but now his arms and head felt weirdly cold, and his mouth tasted of tin.

His legs weren’t moving right. Remus stumbled, failed to re-balance himself, and realised he was fainting just too late for the knowledge to do him any good.

... And that was just perfect. Fortunately I didn't read this part without the next one, because I couldn't have whistood the suspense...

On 26/02/2017 at 11:40 PM, RiversD said:

One benefit, if you could call it that, of Remus’ condition was that healers tended to give his opinion more weight than it deserved with regard to his own health. Not enough of them had studied lycanthropy in enough depth to know the subtle differences it made to his human physiology.

Brilliant. I love that idea and I don't understand why I didn't have it before. I really love medical mysteries (well, yeah, I love Spock) and I don't know why I didn't think of Remus physiology before. Thanks!

[camillapapen]

Feelings, so many feelings! Good ones, but still, ah! my heart.

[queenie]

So sweet. 

[LifeOfTheMarauders]

Continue pleaseeee Loving it!

[RiversD]

On 26/02/2017 at 11:25 PM, Dusty15 said:

ACK MY HEART!  Poor guy. I love the head canon that he can't take anything because of Wolfsbane interference...it's so very convenient for fic!  I do hope Tonks is out of the hospital by dawn in two days' time so she can give him a proper smack and a good looking after!! 

Very convenient indeed (even if it does make me feel cruel...). Yeah, I'm making him suffer good and long before he gets his comfort, sorry .

 

On 27/02/2017 at 6:21 AM, lilysneeze said:

Ah the feelings... good job though, I hope someone will come to his rescue soon!

Mayyyybe. Depends what you mean by 'soon'...

 

@AngelEyes Thank you! I've said it before, but I so love knowing which parts worked for people.

 

On 28/02/2017 at 5:24 PM, Aliena H. said:

Don't worry, I come back from the dead very easily...

Just as well Thanks so much for all the specific feedback, and especially for:

On 28/02/2017 at 5:24 PM, Aliena H. said:

This is really in character - it really sounds like Tonks. Did I mention that I love Tonks?

Because I live in fear of straying too off-message in my characterisations. Yeah, all the love.

 

On 01/03/2017 at 7:12 PM, camillapapen said:

Feelings, so many feelings! Good ones, but still, ah! my heart.

Sorry about your heart! But also, yay! I'm happy I could make you feel something!

 

On 03/03/2017 at 9:48 PM, queenie said:

So sweet. 

No, YOU'RE so sweet! *ahem* I mean, thank you, babe!

 

On 08/03/2017 at 6:51 AM, MarauderFanGirl4Ever said:

Continue pleaseeee Loving it!

Ha, I'm flattered you considered this worth one of your very first posts! Welcome to the forum, and I hope that this continues giving you pleasure!

[RiversD]

Onwards!

Part VIII

Remus apparated back to Grimmauld Place, which saved him the daunting prospect of another trek across London, but did mean that he had no sooner arrived than he crumpled into a heap on the landing, floorboards tilting crazily beneath his knees.

He realised he had stopped breathing only when this caused him to cough, curling tightly in on himself with curt, painful spasms.

“Someone up there?”

Remus forced himself to uncoil and sit up a little as footsteps hurried up the stairs towards him. He was leaning against the wall by the time Bill Weasley appeared round the corner and spotted him.

“Oh, Remus. Cripes, are you alright?”

Remus nodded as emphatically as he dared, chest still feeling much too tight, and tried to sit up straighter. His cheeks and ears felt hot, and he strongly suspected he was visibly flushed by now.

“Just apparated. Got… a little dizzy.”

Bill grimaced sympathetically, and offered his arm to help Remus get back to his feet.

“Oh, that’s rough. Have to admit I’m a little relieved, though. I thought for a second someone had been setting amateur booby-traps again.”

“Again?”

Bill half-smiled at the provoked memory.

“I’m still not sure how serious an attempt it was. Fred and George might just have been pranking Dung again. But I try and keep an eye out. People can get twitchy, you know.”

“Nervous times,” Remus agreed, working the back of his neck with one hand.

“I did offer to do a proper job of it, back when we first moved in. But it felt like overkill while Dumbledore’s secret keeper.”

“I suppose so.”

Remus stepped towards his room, misjudged it, and grabbed at the door frame for support just in case his legs weren’t up to the job. Bill’s hand was at his other elbow a fraction of a second later.

“You sure you’re alright, mate?”

Remus tried to smile, but didn’t do a very good job of it. Still, Bill stepped back respectfully when Remus pulled his arm away.

“I just need to lie down for a while, I think,” Remus told him, painfully aware of how strangulated his voice sounded at present. “I’ll feel better once- oh sh… hang on-”

Remus turned his face away from Bill’s as an itchy feeling in his nose became increasingly urgent. Not wanting to lose balance, he pressed his back against the door frame and raised an elbow to catch the sneeze when it came.

“hh’TSSCH’uh! Excuse me.”

He sniffed cautiously, then lowered his arm, relieved that the sneeze hadn’t been especially productive, for all it had felt pretty fierce.

“Bless you,” said Bill softly. “Is there anything I can do?”

Remus shook his head. “No. Really, it’s just a bad cold. A tad debilitating here and there, but hardly anything life threatening. It ought to pass if I rest up for a while.”

“Alright.” Bill seemed on the verge of adding something more, but shrugged and finished, “I’ll tell Mum not to wait on you for dinner, shall I?”

“Thanks, Bill.”

Remus did manage a smile this time, if a thin and somewhat watery one. Bill returned a much heartier example and walked away in the direction he had come, leaving Remus to make his way to bed on legs that were feeling wobblier by the second.

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

He had only really intended to lie back for a few minutes and get a little energy back, but when he next opened his eyes the light coming through his window was turning towards the soft glow of sunset, and his throat was dry enough to store gunpowder in. In fact, it rather felt like somebody had tried.

He sat up, coughing violently almost as soon as he moved, and reached for the water glass beside his bed. That wasn’t difficult. What was difficult was halting his coughing fit long enough to pronounce the spell to refill it when he had drunk the half-measure it contained.

Remus drank two glassfuls, with pauses to cough and blow his nose in between sips. Then he stretched, stimulating two quick, barking coughs as his chest twinged, and looked blearily around the room.

He realised that someone had slipped a tray inside his door and shuffled over to find a plate of ham and leek cobbler left for him. He carried it back to bed and ate it slowly. Whoever had cast the warming charm on the plate had almost done too-good a job, and he burned his lips more than once.

It felt good to have food inside him, even though he hadn’t thought he was terribly hungry when he sat down. Remus sighed, feeling that it was distinctly unfair that he couldn’t rely on his body to tell him what it needed, just when that information would be most useful.

He sneezed resignedly into his handkerchief and did his best to tidy himself up. Then he picked up the tray and carried it downstairs, only having to put it down once when a sneeze overtook him in the hall.

Poking his head into the kitchen, he found Molly Weasley tidying the cutlery drawers. He cleared his throat to alert her to his presence, and padded in.

“Thank you, Molly,” he said, indicating his cleared plate.

She smiled, took the tray out of his hands and had plate and cutlery in the sink before he could offer any protest.

“Arthur said not to disturb you if you were sleeping,” she told him. “I won’t say he was wrong, either. You don’t look well at all, dear.”

“Rough day,” Remus conceded. He watched her wash up with a blistering efficiency that spoke volumes regarding the daily life of a mother of seven. “Did I miss anything?”

Molly snorted. “Nothing important, believe you me, Remus. A lot of twaddle and going over what’s already been discussed to death. You were better off.”

“It sounds it.” Remus hid a reflexive little cough behind one hand and smiled weakly at her. She slid his plate into its place in the cupboard, and then seemed to remember something.

“You’ve come down at the right time, in any case. Severus was just here to drop off your potion. I told him I’d see you drank it while it was still hot.”

Remus shot a glance at the clock over the range.

“Of course. Thanks for that too.”

Molly stepped into the dining room and returned with a still-steaming goblet. Remus took it, swallowing back a surge of panic at how far from his thoughts the need to take his potion had been. It was far too easy for it to slip his mind, and the consequences…

He downed it quickly, the better to conceal the treacherous watering of his eyes. He seemed to have no command over his body at all, these past days. That thought bought the panic back, the idea of losing control falling a little too close to home, and he fought against it, pinching his wrist and forcing a smile as he racked his suddenly empty brain for any alternative line of thought.

He didn’t realise the degree to which he was visibly spacing out until he felt the back of Molly’s hand against his forehead. She frowned at him.

“That’s a nasty temperature, Remus. I suppose you can’t take anything for it?”

“Not yet, no.” Remus swallowed, feeling as though an invisible hand was wrapped around his windpipe.

“Well, you’d best get back to bed, then. My mother always said there was nothing like sleep when you’re out of sorts, and I daresay she knew what she was on about. She generally did, especially when I didn’t want to hear about it. Go on with you.”

Remus didn’t argue. He could feel the shakes starting as he climbed the stairs, and by the time he shut the door of his bedroom behind him he was trembling like a leaf in the breeze.

He collapsed on the edge of his bed and tried to remember how to breathe. His body didn’t seem sure if it wanted him to scream or cry, and he wasn’t certain of the exact source of either impulse. He knew from bitter experience that the best way to handle something like this was to relax into it as best he could and let it pass of its own accord- struggling only made the after-aches that much worse, and he wanted nothing of the kind right now.

Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t he just be ill, or frightened, or grieving, instead of caught in some horrid emotional mess where it was impossible to tell why he was feeling or doing any given thing?

He was actually crying now, he realised. Probably for the best, though it wasn’t doing his chest any favours, and his nose was now running like a tap. He had enough self-possession to root out his handkerchief and pressed it to his face, then went back to remembering how to breathe.

Sadly, his nose wasn’t interested in helping him with this endeavour. No sooner had he begun to feel like he was back in control then a sharp prickling high in his nostrils had him tightening his grip on his handkerchief with a jagged gasp.

“hh-uh! ETSCHeuh! hhh-hh! h’issSCHew! ISSCH’euh! oh, please, n-h’chssch’uh! ohhh…”

Remus slumped forward, utterly spent. His head was pounding, every inch of him ached, and he was still trembling, though that could be from an urgent need of sleep at this point. Who could tell? Certainly not him.

Still, he knew he must have lost enough fluids in the last while to seriously need a top up, so before he gave in to the clamour of his resentful muscles, he made himself drink as much as he felt physically able to do. Then he shrugged his way out of his less comfortable items of clothing, wormed his way under the blankets, and gave over his resistance.

Not too much later, he slept.

[darkness-is-the-light]

This story is utterly heartbreaking yet I still giggle when there's an update. Although it is mainly angst, you do manage have little moments of fluff laced within. It's incredible and waiting for updates is worth it. 

[Shamaël]

19 hours ago, RiversD said:

and his throat was dry enough to store gunpowder in. In fact, it rather felt like somebody had tried.

I would almost find it quite funny if it wasn't EXACTLY what I'm experiencing right now... 

19 hours ago, RiversD said:

Remus sighed, feeling that it was distinctly unfair that he couldn’t rely on his body to tell him what it needed, just when that information would be most useful.

That's so well written and so, so, so true.

The Weasleys are the best. Arthur, then Bill, and now Molly. Thank you for showing them at their best.

19 hours ago, RiversD said:

He collapsed on the edge of his bed and tried to remember how to breathe. His body didn’t seem sure if it wanted him to scream or cry, and he wasn’t certain of the exact source of either impulse. He knew from bitter experience that the best way to handle something like this was to relax into it as best he could and let it pass of its own accord- struggling only made the after-aches that much worse, and he wanted nothing of the kind right now.

Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t he just be ill, or frightened, or grieving, instead of caught in some horrid emotional mess where it was impossible to tell why he was feeling or doing any given thing?

Here I started to cry.

Excellent job as usual. It hurts but... it's worth it! Thank you!

[Dusty15]

Quote

He downed it quickly, the better to conceal the treacherous watering of his eyes. He seemed to have no command over his body at all, these past days. That thought bought the panic back, the idea of losing control falling a little too close to home, and he fought against it, pinching his wrist and forcing a smile as he racked his suddenly empty brain for any alternative line of thought.

Ugh. This hits so close to home (no...I'm not a werewolf. Just the panic and the fear of loss of control and that whole battle of the brain). There's nothing worse that being sick physically and feeling mentally unwell on top of it. I find it usually ends much the same as you've done here - in a heap of tears followed by a good 'passing out to sleep'. Brutal. I appreciate that you're not shying away from how totally shitty this time period probably was for him and how he probably didn't let anyone in on it either.

Also, I'll state again that I'm incredibly spoiled and I can't believe that this secret santa fic is STILL going! O_O  

[AngelEyes]

Wonderful as always! Poor sweet baby!

[queenie]

Poor Remus! I feel so sad! But the Weasley are so good! And that line about the gunpowder was awfully clever.