Unforgivable Lies (Remus Lupin)

XVIII

-............The stranger the old wizard had brought into her hoome intrigued the little girl. Suddenly all she seemed to do was wander around the house, always ending up in front of the wooden door of the guestroom. Her mother would then shoo her away, saying she wasn't allowed into the room.

"But...will he get better, mommy?" she would ask, worry creasing her brow.

Her mother looked at her sharply.

"How do you...?" she'd muse, before shaking her head "It doesn't matter. He will be fine honey" 

The answer seemed to placate the little girl.

But even that didn't completely satisfy the simmering curiosity that soon took a hold of her. She caught a glimpse of the young man trashing in the bed through a crack in the door one day when her mom was in the guestroom trying to feed the man some soup. 

She wanted to see him. Something was drawing her to that room like a moth to a flame. The little girl was sure something was goinng onn in there that she wanted to see. She couldn't quite place it, but it just felt like something she needed to do.

So, one afternoon after her mom left briefly to search for some herbs in the forest, she quietly made her way to the guestroom, opening the door silently, parying her daddy wouldn't hear. Her father had been in his office a lot lately, and sometimes she could heer him talking through the Floo network with someone. Maybe the older Wizard?

Nervously she entered the guestroom, the unfamiliar smell of sickness and disease permeating the air. It was suffocating, and the little girls brow furrowed as she made her way to the window, opening it slightly to allow in some fresh air.

A groan tore her from her current action, and she swiveled around, her eyes landing on the figure lying in between the crumpled sheets. The young man was lying very still, his upper body revealed to the innocent gaze of the younger version of myself. His chest was covered in scars-scars I realized I had not long ago explored with wandering fingers, with teasing lips and gentle caresses.

His chesnut hair fell in sweaty strands across his forhead, face taunt and body rigid, stiff and coiled muscle. Eyes closed and lips pressed into a thin line, he looked like he was in constant pain. Which he probably was. The little girl approached carefully, her feet silently padding on the wooden floor. Next to thebed she stopped, seeing the sheen of cold sweat that covered the young mans body. Slowly, ever so slowly, she reached out, her tiny hand reaching up to brush away a wayward strand of hair.

The moment her hand brushed his skin, his hand grabbed her wrist with lightning speed, his fingers closing around her tiny hand in an iron grip that had her whimpering. A pair of chocolate eyes snapped open, onnly to lock gazes with the little girl's green ones. 

"Wha-...who?" his voice was hoarse, andhis eyes looked almost panicked.

The little girl was scared, breathlessly looking at the man in front of her. He'd sat partially upright, leaning on one elbow while holding wrist with his other hand.

"You're sick. You are hurting" she whispered, her voice coming out in a high pitch.

"Are you....are you an angel?" he whispered brokenly, slowly letting go of the little girls wrist as he watched her with curiosity, and unspoken question on his fevered features. A hazy look lay in his hazel eyes, and his brow was furrowed in concentration just to remain upright.

The girl giggled.

"No silly!" she said with a smile, forgetting her earlier fear.