the cadence of part time poets

Chapter 83: Coda

I'm on the top of the world, lookin' down on creation;
And the only explanation I can find;
Is the love that I've found, ever since you've been around,
Your love's put me at the top of the world... 

- "Top of the World" The Carpenters, 1972

Mrs. Potter had just about passed out in the foyer when she saw James and the bleached skunk stripe lining his sweeping fringe, but it was nothing compared to the look she gave Remus.

"Remus, beta, are you alright? You look positively ill."

He didn't deny it, and neither did any of his friends. James and Lily had been silently fretting over him since Scotland, passing him handkerchiefs to dab the sweat on his forehead and stuffing him with hot tea from the train's trolley cart. Only Sirius remained stoic; Remus didn't care—let him sulk.

"Just tired from the train," he said. Then he wobbled while taking his boot off and James had to reach out and steady him.

"Giles is still in the drive talking cars with dad," he said, eyeing his mother uneasily.

"M'fine, James."

Mrs. Potter stepped forward anyway. "May I?"

Remus nodded reluctantly, allowing her to press the back of her hand to his forehead.

"Arey baap re... You're burning up. Perhaps we should have Giles take you home until you're well."

"No, please. I'm fine, really!" He insisted. "No one else has caught anything, I'm just tired—just need some sleep, and I... I would rather not go home."

Effie looked at her son warily before sighing. "Alright, but it's straight upstairs with you. You'll take James' bed while I prepare something that'll warm you up. And we've a neighbour two houses down, Dr. Ostrowski, we'll have him take a look at you."

Remus didn't fight it. He'd already decided on the train that anything was better than returning to that empty estate.

"Here, let me get your trunk," James said, ushering Remus out of the way while Mrs. Potter retreated into the kitchen.

"And you should take your jacket off, it's wet from the rain," Lily insisted, already peeling it off him by the collar.

"Guys, I told you I'm fine—" He'd meant to step over James' guitar case, but like the klutz he was, caught his toe on the edge and nearly sprawled on the foyer carpet for a second time. He might have gone down on his face had a hand not shot out and steadied him. Alarmed, Remus turned sharply to find Sirius holding his elbow. They locked eyes for the first time since their fatal game of questions, and Sirius quickly released him, turning away to fumble with the buttons of his coat.

More affronted than he would've been had Sirius just let him fall, Remus drew himself up to his full height and turned for the stairs. He'd already told himself that should he choose to stay, Sirius was not his prerogative. Not his problem. He was there for his friends, and Sirius Black was not his friend.

No less than ten minutes later, Remus lay curled up under the covers of James' fourposter, staring up at the poster of Farrah Fawcett he'd yet to remove from the roof. He knew he should be happy Mrs. Potter had agreed to let him stay, but lying there, in an unfamiliar bed, made him feel suddenly panicked. Cagey. Like he needed to flee. Idiot—coming back to the Potters' had seemed like such a good idea on the train, when the mere thought of returning to the Lupin Estate had left him rushing to the toilet to vomit. (Though that could've just been courtesy of Lily's personal mixture of turmeric and ginger tea—heavy on the turmeric.) Now he felt guilty. Who was he to weasel his way into his friend's home and ruin everyone's holiday? Just because he and his boyfriend had had a nasty break up...