Chapter Twenty-Four - Rest In Peace

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Author's note: CW for post-moon scenes/gore, mention of death, and grief

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The smell of blood greeted Remus when his human mind returned to his body. He screamed as his bones finished morphing, his body twisting as it shrank back into the tiny human form. After a moment of laying there panting and nothing happening he rolled onto his back, pushing himself into a sitting position to survey the damage.

Not too bad, he thought weakly as he saw his legs torn to shreds, blood glistening, muscles exposed. However his torso only had a few shallow scratches and his arms were relatively untouched except for a partial bite on his left forearm.

His legs, though, burned with pain and he wanted to sob. Can I walk? He wished he had torn up his arms instead. He hated not being able to walk.

Gritting his teeth he pulled himself to the blood-soaked couch whose middle cushion was ripped to fluffy shreds. Damn stupid wolf, he grumbled as he slowly got to his feet. His legs protested immediately and he came down onto the sofa with a crash. Damn. Either he'd have to crawl/pull himself to the lavatory or else he'd have to wait there. Not wanting to drag his ruined, opened legs along the floor, he opted to grab one of the blankets to cover himself until Pomfrey showed up.

Blood soaked into the couch and the blanket as he waited, though the blanket already had a lot of bloodstains already. He fiddled with a corner, wondering if he should bring it back to see if the house-elves could get the stains out—but what was the point? It'd get all bloody again before long.

"Shit," he hissed as a searing pain rippled through his legs. A few tears slid out and he wished there was a clock somewhere so he could see what time it was. The sun rose at around 6:30 this time of the year. He figured Pomfrey would be there by sevenish. Usually she was there within half an hour.

I should prove I can take care of myself, he realized. Was he going to sit around and wait till he was seventeen before being alone? No. He needed to show them he could be responsible.

"Shit!" he swore again as he got to his feet. His legs hurt so bad. Blood trickled down the skin that wasn't ravaged and with each step it felt like his legs would fall apart. He staggered to the bathroom where he filled the tub with a few inches of water; soon he was cleaning his legs off with some of the flannels. Whenever the fabric touched a wound he let out a yelp of pain.

Once his legs were relatively clean he dried them off as best he could then began wrapping them with bandages. He was just finishing up one leg when he heard Pomfrey in the tunnel, and was starting on the second when she came into the bathroom.

"G-good morning," he whispered, carefully wrapping his calf.

Pomfrey eyed the bandages. "You'll need to take them off so I can see the damage..."

"I know." He continued wrapping his right leg. "We can do that at the hospital wing, right?"

She let out a sigh. "Yes..."

She gave him pajamas to change into and then they left, Remus leaning against her without protest to hobble along. He hated being seen as so weak and pathetic, but was very determined to be able to be alone by his fourth year. He was going to do everything he could do to succeed with that plan.

At the hospital wing he took his bottoms off for Pomfrey to unwrap his legs. She put potions on them even though his lycanthropic ability healed everything anyway, and wrapped them in clean bandages. She wrapped the bite on his arm and put some plasters on some of the deeper scratches on his chest, though most were already beginning to heal.

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