𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 [𝐣.𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫]

11: 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔰𝔱 𝔴𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔰

Remus Lupin woke up to the dreaded sensation of what he liked to call, "werewolf hangover".

It was the terrible pain of whatever the hell had been broken, dislodged, or lacerated combined with a splitting headache and stomach-turning nausea. It slightly reminded him of the time James decided to make a potion using leftover Honeyduke's sweets. By leftover, he meant all the bad Bertie Bott's beans that his heightened smell had detected to be variations of puke, bogies, or toenail clippings.

Long story short, poor James ended up drinking all the foulest flavors nobody else dared to touch. Sirius then proceeded to pour some of this horrifying substance over Snape's dinner and earned himself detention for a week.

Remus opened his heavy eyelids groggily, squinting into the harsh lighting. Rubbing his eyes, the last of his sleep dissolved into a wisp as he saw Sirius in a nearby chair, head tilted back as he snored. He wasn't tall compared to Remus, but his seat looked minuscule when he leaned back, limbs ajar. His right arm had been splinted hastily, and his left hand dangled precariously off the armrest. He looked younger when he slept, his face relaxed and all the years of strain evaporated.

He resembled a Greek god, his jawline visibly defined even in his slumber. Remus moved slowly, ignoring the creaking in his joints. It had been a while since Remus had gotten a good look at Sirius from afar. He wasn't about to disturb the peace now. He let out a sharp intake of breath as he reached for his wand, feeling a sharp pain shooting down from his shoulder to his elbow. Weak, he scolded himself, a burning self-resentment rising in his throat, bloody pathetic.

Sirius awoke with a start, much to his disappointment. He was a light sleeper, most likely a trait he'd adopted from living in the Black Household. He blinked, his eyes immediately reduced to slits thanks to the harsh Hospital Wing lighting. His arm had gone numb, and he kept flexing and unflexing his fingers to get the blood moving. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, grinning tiredly at Remus. "Alright?"

"Exquisite," he replied dryly, working out the knots in his shoulder. He felt guilt flare up as he saw Sirius's bandaged arm, most likely done by James because they couldn't risk Madame Pomfrey finding out. "I'm sorry about your arm."

"Don't be," Sirius remarked, rotating his neck to hear the small pops. Remus always hated when he did it, telling him it freaked him out because of how loud they were to him. He stood up, reaching out to pour Remus a glass of water.

"Need anything? Meds? Pomfrey?" He inquired, handing him the cup. He unraveled the bandage on his arm, balling it up and shoving it into his trouser pocket before continuing knowingly. Did that man not feel any pain? "Chocolate?"

"Obviously," Remus scoffed, bringing the cool glass up to his chapped lips. Maybe it would help with his pounding headache. "Where are the others?"

"Sleeping, probably," Sirius replied, scouring the ground for his wand. It must've fallen out of his pocket. "As you should've been doing."

"Hey!" Remus cried defensively, "It's not my fault you're a snorer! You shouldn't be up this early either! You probably got what, two hours?"

"Three," he interjected, stifling a yawn as he gripped the smooth wood. Truthfully, he was exhausted, but there were other matters to attend to. Sleep was dead last on his list of priorities.

"My point remains," Remus returned, closing his eyes briefly. He definitely needed an Advil, perhaps four. "Come on, then, join me up here. The chairs are absolute rubbish."

That last bit certainly hadn't received the okay from his brain before it slipped out of his lips.

Sirius's eyebrows crinkled comically, his heart racing so quickly he feared he'd faint. The bed looked inviting, but Remus was his main point of interest. His hair was tousled, eyes tired but wiry. What if anyone saw them? "Up there? Like, the-the bed? I mean, sure, but don't you think this could be... misinterpreted?"