Time Heals

Ever since he got out of the hospital and stopped taking potions, Arthur could not sleep. Occasionally, he could catch a brief nap in the middle of the day before waking a few minutes later due to the other inhabitants of Grimmauld Place.

However, at night, it was so quiet one could hear a Doxy flutter its wings three floors away. There should be no issues falling asleep as he lay in bed with Molly. Sometimes, the pain he was still in kept him awake or caused him to have a fitful night's sleep if he did manage to doze off.

But then there were the nightmares where he was forced to relive that horrible night in the Department of Mysteries. Unlike the pain, these nightmares would wake him up every time he fell asleep. At St. Mungo's, Arthur did not have to endure these due to the potions Healer Smethwyck had him on. Now, there was no way of avoiding them.

It was not only these things that caused his lack of sleep, though. Up until the past few nights, Molly had problems going to sleep, especially if her husband was not at her side. Ever since the attack, she had been in a right state. Arthur never saw her distressed until he was discharged. Apparently, she hid her worries whenever she visited him at the hospital, but when he was back at Grimmauld Place, she couldn't keep it hidden.

Tonight, his wife had finally fallen asleep at half past midnight. He lay there another hour, ensuring she was in a deep sleep, before he got out of bed. Not bothering to put on a shirt, Arthur pulled on his pajama bottoms and threadbare house robe which he tied loosely. The month-old scars peaked out from underneath, standing out vividly against his pale chest. Oddly enough, he had become quite self-conscious about them; he had never been self-conscious about anything in his whole life. At this late hour though, he needn't worry about that. Silently shutting the door behind him, he made his way down to the kitchen.

Much to his dismay, someone else was awake and sipping tea at the old, wooden table. Arthur had to blame himself. He knew that one of the guarding shifts ended at one in the morning. In fact, that was the shift he had been on when he was attacked. He had been so close to being able to go home to Molly, but the snake clearly had other plans.

"Arthur, you should be in bed. You need your rest after everything that's happened. Besides, don't you start work back in the morning?" the other man said as Arthur fixed his own cup of tea.

Taking a seat across from the other occupant, Arthur stated, "No, Remus. Look, I'm tired of everyone watching me - telling me to take it easy...afraid I'm going to break," he finished bitterly. That was what the Order and his family did. The healers had cleared him to go home and he felt he could handle going back to daily life. He didn't need anyone watching his every move. He was a grown man, for Merlin's sake! He could take care of himself.

Remus studied the older man closely for a long moment before asking, "Are you?"

A beat passed before Arthur looked Remus in the eye and quietly answered. "I hurt...The pain never goes away."

"The scars?"

Arthur shifted his gaze to the mug in his hands. Right now, he was being completely vulnerable. He had no idea why. It was as if he couldn't control the words that came out of his mouth. "Everything. My chest. My heart. My veins even feel like the venom is still running through them."

"Your healer said the venom is long gone, and I'm sure he can give you some pain potions if you tell him," Remus advised.

Arthur looked back at the werewolf and wearily said, "I'm sick of potions. I was on them for two weeks at the hospital and then the week after." He took a sip of his tea. "Besides, I need to keep my wits about me, especially if something happens and the Order needs me -"