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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
As the morning sun shone brightly through the stained windows of the shrieking shack, Remus Lupin's brown eyes slowly let themselves open. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, letting memories from the previous night replay through his head. A stag, a dog, and a rat. But then there was another animal. A wolf. Genevieve.
He felt a dull ache in his shoulder as he had been laid on his side for too long and attempted to shift himself, but the pain that rocketed through his body was enough to stop him. He hissed through his teeth.
"That looked painful."
Ah, Remus knew that voice. It was smooth yet teasing. Her words flowed together with ease, except when she was reading, that is. Remus felt his muscles relax when he heard that voice. He glanced to the side, and there Genevieve was, curled up in the rocking chair and wearing a red sweater she had found folded in one of the house's wardrobes. Remus recognised it as his. His mother had knitted it for his birthday last year.
"You're still here," he managed to say despite sleep till weighing him down.
Genevieve grinned, and Remus thought it made the world look a little brighter. "What, you thought I would ditch the moment you grew fur?"
Remus laughed, but the movement pulled at his stomach and made him wince. Genevieve must have noticed, because her smile dropped slightly and worry blazed within her eyes.
"Where are the others?" he quickly said, easing her concern.
"James insisted they all accompany Poppy up here. Said she 'might get lonely on the journey'," she informed, smiling at the thought.
Remus managed a small smile back. As the birds outside twittered loudly, Remus lifted his blanket to inspect the damage done. To his surprise, he was met with the sight of bandages wrapped around most of his wounds. Only the odd small scratch could be seen, and even they didn't look too bad. Usually, he had bandages put on him by Madam Pomfrey. The boys were too scared that they might agitate his wounds further, so Remus advised they usually wait until Pomfrey got there. "Who patched me up?" he asked inquisitively.
Genevieve pickled at the wood of the rocking chair, cheeks growing red. "That was me," she said. She looked up suddenly, clearly alarmed. "Did I do them too tight?"
"No, no. They're perfect actually," he smiled, looking at her with both thankfulness and admiration. He looked back down at himself to see if he could count how many new scratches there. Instead, his attention was drawn to the black splodges on certain bandages, and upon closer inspection, he realised they were drawn-on letters. J, S and P. P and S had been placed on either arm, and J had a spot near his heart. "Why are all of your initials on my body?" he quizzed, clearly bewildered.
A wide smile spread across Genevieve's face. "We put our initials on our favourite scar."
His heart swelled a little. "Where's yours?" Remus asked.
