Remus Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Chapter 22: Waning Storm

  [AN: The dialogue that happens between Remus, the students, and Harry is straight out of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and belongs to J.K. Rowling; I'm using it to reframe the scene from Remus' point of view. No copyright infringement is intended]  

"Alright." She straightened and turned a desk chair about, gesturing to it. He made his way over, slowly, and sat while she gave him a quick once over, then she sat on a bed across from him. "What brings you in today, Remus?"

"Lily." He answered truthfully. It was supposed to come out wry, but he feared his tone was merely dull.

Poppy froze a moment and he could see her looking at him, hard, searching her memory. Then, she relaxed. "Ah. I see."

Rising, she wove around him and he watched as she bustled around the room, collecting things from shelves, the windowsill in her office. "I believe Miss Evans would be thrilled that she's compelling you to take care of yourself from beyond the grave. Here," she dropped a hunk of chocolate the size of a bludger in his hand in passing. "Gnaw on that. I'm not surprised this is happening now, to be honest. There can sometimes be side effects from the Wolfsbane potion that we are not fully aware of, as it's so new. And I know that this close to the moon tends to catch you in a low mood anyhow." She put the back of her hand to his forehead. "Is there anything else that might be contributing?"

Remus watched the chocolate as he slowly passed it from hand to hand to keep it from melting. "Sunday was Halloween. With Sirius and..." he trailed off.

"Heavens, it was, wasn't it?" A look of reluctant enlightenment crossed her face before she shook herself and slowly moved her wand tip around his head, checking her watch. "Well...I'm glad that you're coming in for help. Eat," she added, warningly. "It'll help."

He almost protested that he hadn't even been near the Dementors when the memory of Neville doing the same thing in his office surfaced accusatorily and, guiltily, he started in on it.

He left the Hospital Wing an hour later full of chocolate, empty of words, and with a strict order to rest the day of the full moon. Poppy seemed to think that something like a perfect storm had happened with certain side effects of the Wolfsbane potion, the impending Change, the happenings of Halloween, and his own depression. She had packed him off a Cheering Elixir, that he had been convinced to take once she had invoked the reminder of his status--Professor. "And what would you tell one of your students to do, hm?" Yes. He needed to be able to function.

Over the course of the rest of the day, the edge of the nothing pit softened into a slightly more manageable melancholy. The storming rose to a pitch, rattling the windows with the wind and crashes of thunder. The day of the full moon was rough, painful, and nauseating but it always was. He pushed through. The Change was literally bone breaking and soul wrenching, but...it always was. There was nothing else to do but press on. He dutifully took his small armada of potions Madame Pomfrey had assigned him over the course of the year.

Waking up became incrementally easier over the next few days and the presence of other people gradually became more welcome. The storms had cleared after the day of the Change and pale sunlight was seeping in the windows, heralding the cold turnover from autumn to winter. He had been invited to tea with Hagrid again--who assured him that it was tea, this time--and he was slightly pleased with himself that he accepted. Once again, Hagrid managed to make him smile a bit, and fed him some home baking, which proved to be...a task to ingest. But he managed. Mostly. A pity Fang was so afraid of him, he would have bribed him under the table with the food to help him finish it.

He attended the mandatory staff meeting where Dumbledore briefed all who were not present at the Quidditch match that had gone horribly wrong; Dementor invasion, Harry falling off his broom from the sky, his broomstick smashed against the Whomping Willow. How can this boy hope to gain an education when he's being assaulted constantly? The other Professor's expressed their concern, confusion and outrage at their strange behavior. Apparently, the Dementors had been itching to come closer to the castle, having been relegated to the entrances and very outskirts of the grounds, far from any sort of joy or human emotion. They were growing impatient. They were growing hungry. The cold, expressionless fury that sat like a chill mirror behind Dumbledore's normally warm eyes as he relayed the tale shook Remus. He knew that Dumbledore was a great wizard, more powerful even than Voldemort but rarely was he ever reminded quite so blatantly; there was a force to his anger that was undeniable. He almost felt sorry for the Dementors. But not quite.