Remus Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Chapter 34: Recovering From Recovery

True to his word, he sheepishly made his way to the Hospital Wing after dinner, with more difficulty than it really should have taken which only drove home the fact that she was right and he was wrong, yes, thank you, he got the point. Luckily, Poppy reported that Severus had agreed to bring the Relaxation Draught along with that day's Wolfsbane potion, which, at least, relieved the worry that he would have to approach Severus in his own territory. Which was something that he had often made Remus do, claiming to have too much work to make a delivery--which may or may not have been true, though the truth was, not much could make an interaction with the man pleasant. It was just that, this month, he wasn't sure his knees and flagging energy could make repeated journeys into the dungeon. After a quick once over, a vile tasting green potion for inflammation, and a short lecture that was full of words like 'irresponsible' and 'function' and 'idiot boy', he was released to 'sleep, dammit.' Which--to his credit, he thought--he obediently did.

Unfortunately, it didn't help as much as it ought. The morning of the full moon dawned bitterly cold and merciless and it didn't improve as the day wore on, nettling his joints with tiny glass needles that, when they weren't stabbing, crumbled into some grating gravel that seemed to get stuck in the cracks and throb like nasty little embers. Grading was listless work, wrapped in his blanket at his desk and he often came back to himself staring out the window or into the flames in his fireplace while his hands resonated with a dull ache holding his quill. There wasn't really an emotion that he could assign himself past 'tired.' Sleep was calling him but he knew this feeling, knew the muzzy twinge behind his eyes would grow into a pounding fog that would blur his thoughts for the rest of the day, rendering him utterly useless. He sighed and flexed his fingers, wincing as at least 7 different joints popped, and pushed back from his desk. The intention had been to stand, but, instead, he sank further down into the blanket like some sort of turtle and found that, at present, he lacked any sort of motivation to go anywhere at all. He knew this was lazy and that he should be working. This knowledge bounced off him like a defective bludger.

A sharp rap came from the door. For a fleeting moment, he considered not answering, but, instead, straightened up with a more impressive crack from his spine, tried to look responsible--or at least awake--and called, "Come in."

Snape opened the door, sour look evolving into a sneer when he saw him bundled up. "Aren't we cozy."

"Good afternoon, Severus."

"I see you can't be bothered to move yourself and that you need things handed to you like a child," he continued as if Remus hadn't spoken and thunked a goblet and a small corked vial on top of the stack of parchments. A small slosh of potion dribbled down the side and seeped into the essay on top.

For a moment, Remus simply looked at him blandly. Then, he said, "Yes."

Snape scowled. "What?"

"Yes, you're right. That's what I'm doing."

His scowl deepened in irritation, but he seemed unprepared for such a response. Instead, he shot a contemptuous glance around the room, tutted as if disgusted and stalked out. Well, you live in a dungeon so I'm not sure what you're criticizing, his internal James voice muttered, which he ignored and set about to cleaning off the essay, belonging to Cho Chang. Unfortunately, he was able to take the liquid out but unable to repair the blotted ink. Scrawling a quick apology and an assurance that he could still read it on the bottom of her page, he reflected that he was lucky that what seemed the most effective course of action to ruin Snape's fun and encourage him to leave was also the one the required the least amount of effort on his part; he would have to remember that one.

The Wolfsbane was absolutely repulsive, as usual, and he counted his lucky stars that Poppy's anti-nausea serum worked so well or else he felt he would never be able to keep it down. After a few minutes, he also downed the clear vial Severus had left, hoping in a vague way that it was the Relaxation Draught and that the intent was for him to drink the whole thing and Severus had not conveniently forgotten to mention some sort of dosage size. It felt oddly...gelatinous and carried a strong taste of licorice, that meshed unfortunately with the meat-and-garbage flavor of the Wolfsbane. Successfully motivated, he rose and made his way back to his bedroom to hurriedly knock back another dose of said anti-nausea to head off the growing feelings of unease that were beginning to roil in his stomach, just in case. He doubted either potion would be effective if they came back up.