Four To The End (prev Shifting Lines) Book Three (Marauders Era)

Chapter One Hundred-Fourteen - An Attack

Remus was in no mood for anything come morning. The full moon was that night, plus the fact that he woke up in his bedroom at home instead of his dorm at Hogwarts made him miserable. He lay there for a while in the dark, wondering what the others were doing. It was late enough in the morning that they were probably getting ready to leave. Probably packing, since they were all so bad at remembering to pack. Normally Remus helped them the night before. He hoped they didn't forget anything important... although it was only for two weeks.

Could have had almost an entire day more with them, he thought bitterly as he got out of bed. Stupid damn moon, stupid curse, stupid, stupid, stupid.

He was very grouchy and it didn't take long to get into a fight with his parents. He pushed his breakfast around the plate as his mother begged him to eat, then Lyall yelled at him to listen to his mother. Remus snapped back that he had every right to eat or not, and that nobody should force him to eat. Hope said she was only worried about his strength, and Remus responded he could probably snap the table in two, how was that for strength? Hope sobbed, Lyall screamed, and Remus retreated back to his room. Half an hour after his father left for work, Remus crept upstairs and apologized to his mother.

"I just want what's best for you," Hope sniffled, hugging him tightly to her chest.

"I know." He closed his eyes, miserably accepting the embrace for a moment. Then... "Are you okay, Mum?"

"What do you mean?"

They pulled apart, and Remus frowned. There was something off about her scent, something he couldn't quite figure out. It made him a little queasy. "I don't know. You... erm... you..."

Hope put a hand on his cheek. "What is it, baby?"

"You smell a bit... off."

She raised her eyebrows and flushed a little pink. "I got a shower this morning—"

"No, it isn't that, not your—not—erm—not that." He was blushing too. "I meant you smell... I don't know. Are you feeling sick or anything?"

"Oh. That sort of..." She trailed off and turned away, busying herself with the morning dishes. "You know I d-don't like it when you do that."

"I know, but—"

"I'll be fine."

Remus sat down, glad he was small enough that he could draw his feet up onto the chair and hug his knees. He felt frightened, and needed to hold himself. "You're sick?" Hope ignored him. "Mum?"

"I'm not sick," she finally said, setting the sponge down. "I'm on medication."

He felt his stomach drop. "You are sick." She turned around, leaning against the sink and he saw suddenly that she seemed thinner than before. More wane. He scrambled off the chair and towards her, heart pounding. Was she—? "Mum?!"

"I'm not sick," she repeated. "I didn't want to talk to you about this but if you insist—"

"I DO!"

Hope shook her head. "I have very bad anxiety and depression." She paused, letting those words hang in the air. "It has gotten worse since... since..."

"Since I found out the truth about being bitten," he finished flatly for her. She nodded. "Oh, Christ."

"I've been taking a potion to help, and it's made me a bit tired, that's all," she said.

Remus began tugging at his sleeves and then slipped a hand up inside one to scratch at his wrists. "What about a therapist?"

Hope gave a small laugh. "With who, dear? I certainly can't talk to any Muggle therapists about this, and wizards... don't really do that sort of thing, do they?" He shook his head, knowing that was the truth; wizards and witches just shoved potions into their bodies for all their ailments. He wasn't even sure if there was a wizarding therapist. "Your father found a potion that helps keep me calm. It also makes me a little tired and weak. I wasn't going to tell you anything since I didn't want you worrying."