Chapter 49 Third Year Know Thyself Sunday, 11th of November
1973. Remus fell awake, spluttering
and shivering. The room was gloomy and his
breath blew out and white plumes above his head.
Everything hurt. He raised his hands in front of
his face and found his fingertips blue and bloody.
There were splinters under his nails, and more blood somewhere
else. He could smell it, but he
couldn't see very well in the dark and he didn't have the
energy to lift his head. His bones felt like they were
made of chalk. He was so, so tired.
Still, if there was as much blood as he thought, it probably
wasn't a good idea to sleep. He ought to stay awake, at least
until Madame Pomfrey could arrive, which shouldn't be long.
Remus lay still and focused on his breathing.
There was a Gryffindor game on today as well, another thing
he'd be missing. Not only that, but his friends
would be too busy to visit. He turned his head and heaved.
He hoped he wouldn't be sick. It was so embarrassing being
sick. He didn't have his wand with
him, so he couldn't clean it up. Good morning, Remus.
Madame Pomfrey finally entered the room.
Oh dear, bit of a mess, eh? He raised his head and promptly
threw up. I'm not sure I like all this
reading you do. Madame Pomfrey tutted as she
brought him a healing draft. I know your studies are
important to you, but you need rest.
I slept all morning. He replied.
And I get so bored otherwise. Do you know how the Quidditch
match went? I'm afraid I don't.
The medie witch smiled. I'm sure Mr. Potter will be up
here to tell you as soon as he can.
Though. That wasn't very likely.
If they'd won, there would be a victory party, and Remus had
made James promise not to miss it on his account.
He accepted the potion he was given and swallowed it all
without complaint. It was bitter, but he'd grown
used to it. Now he had to read, because if
he didn't, he would have nothing to do at all except think about
his fresh scars. This month.
The wolf had torn at his torso, which was better than his arms
or face. At least he could hide the marks
easier. Remus rarely undressed in front
of anyone, even once the Marauders had found out about
his furry little problem. No one but Madame Pomfrey had
seen the true extent of the damage.
Well, Sirius had once, early and 2nd year, but neither of them
had since acknowledged that strange encounter.
Still, Remus wasn't naive, and he knew that one day, however
far away it might be, someone would expect him to take his top
off. At the very least, it didn't
bear thinking about. Perhaps he'd just have to avoid
girls forever. Mr. Lupin?
A cheerful voice boomed across the hospital floor, making Remus
jump. It was Professor Ferox, holding
two large jars of clear liquid in his arms.
Oh, hello. Remus gave a small wave.
Mart lap essence. As promised, Poppy.
The professor set down the jars. Don't come over.
Don't come over, Remus thought frantically as Professor Ferox
strode across the room towards his bed.
Been in the wars, our kid? He asked kindly.
Remus wanted to shrink and hide under the bed sheets.
He hated the thought of strong, energetic Feroc seeing him in
his weakened state. I'm OK.
Feroc sat down beside Remus's bed.
Remus resigned himself to his fate.
Second time in here this year. I.
The professor said, looking concerned.
Remus nodded. Even though it was his third
moon this term, If Ferox hadn't noticed one absence, then
perhaps he wouldn't connect the dots.
You know, if you need some more time for your homework, you only
need to ask. I've never handed anything in
late. Remus protested.
No, Ferox's eyes twinkled. You certainly haven't.
His eyes moved to the bandages poking out of Remus's pajama
vest, covering a new cut that snaked up his collarbone.
Something registered in the older man's eyes, and Remus
knew, almost instinctively, that Ferox knew.
I can do anything anyone else can.
Remus said, looking his teacher in the eye.
I can see that. Ferox now eyed the pile of books
on the bedside table. Are these all for school?
Some of them. Remus replied.
Some are for fun. I like finding out new stuff.
I like knowing stuff. Yes, I can tell that from your
essays. Ferox was smiling again, which
made Remus relax a bit. Do you fancy a career caring for
magical creatures, or maybe something more like your father?
I hadn't thought about that. Remus lied.
Ferox laughed. He tapped the book at the top of
the pile. It was borrowed from Sirius, a
muggle philosophy book. Know thyself, Remus.
Ferox said. Plato.
Remus said quickly. Ferox laughed again, standing
up. Exactly.
He ruffled Remus's hair before turning to leave.
I hope you feel better soon, Lupin.
See you on Wednesday. It was all very cryptic, Remus
thought, realizing he'd been holding his breath for almost a
minute as Ferox left the room. He hadn't started the Plato yet,
only skimmed it. It wasn't the sort of thing he
was usually interested in, but he'd committed to try a bit of
everything. Secretly, he wanted to be able
to show off to Sirius that he had read more books.
Sirius hardly spent any time reading anymore.
His single minded mission to fulfill his role as the Black
family Black sheep meant that he had little time for anything
other than causing trouble. He'd regret that one day, in
Remus's opinion. Remus had seen plenty of boys at
St. Edmunds trying to push their
limits like that. The problem was, some limits
weren't fences. Sometimes they were edges with
nothing on the other side. He healed pretty well despite
the brutal scarring, and Madame Pomfrey sent him back to
Gryffindor Tower that evening with the understanding that he
did nothing but rest. He walked slowly, as promised.
When he finally reached the common room, he did not find the
victory party he had expected, but a rather subdued atmosphere,
and the Marauders were nowhere to be seen.
Remus furrowed his brow and headed up the stairs to find the
bedroom also empty. Puzzled, he went back
downstairs. Marlene and Mary were playing
snap by the fireplace. Haya.
He went over. All right, Remus, where have you
been? Mary asked, not looking up from
her cards. Been sick.
Stomach bug. How was the game?
We lost Marlene's side, James was bloody brilliant as usual,
and I must have blocked at least 20 bludgers, but Ramsay caught
the snitch right at the wrong time.
Ah, sorry McKinnon. Remus rubbed the back of his
head. That was odd.
If they'd lost and there had been no party, then why hadn't
the others come to see him? He tried to ignore the stabbing
feeling in his stomach. You've seen James since, or
Sirius, or anyone? Nope.
The girl said in unison. Marlene slammed down a card,
then winced as it blew up. She looked up.
Want to play? Nah, I still feel a bit funny
going to lie down. Thanks though.
He trudged back up the stairs, feeling an uncomfortable mix of
anxiety and anger. He'd said they shouldn't put off
celebrating just for him, but that didn't mean he didn't want
to see them at all. They didn't have to leave him on
his own like that, without so much as checking to see if he
was OK. For all they knew, he could be
in the Infirmary, still at death's door and with no one but
Madam Pomfrey for company. Were they bored of the whole
thing? Was it less exciting now?
Was he less exciting? Remus lay on his band on top of
the covers. He felt like he'd only been out
of pyjamas for an hour. He didn't want to get back into
them, no matter how tired he was.
He considered reading, but he didn't have the energy.
He could listen to a record, but that would mean getting up.
In the end, he stayed put, lying in the dark with the curtains
drawn at St. Edmunds before he could read,
before he had magic or friends. Remus had grown used to boredom.
He would make up stories in his head, run through song lyrics he
had memorized, or try to come up with the longest words he'd ever
heard. Now, as he waited for sleep to
come, Remus pondered on what Ferox had said to him earlier.
Know thyself. He couldn't remember the context
for Plato having said that. It had to mean know who you are.
Remus knew all about his friends.
He knew that James was a natural leader, a Quidditch God who
would do anything for anyone. Remus knew that even though they
all teased James for being infatuated with Lily, James had
a clearer understanding of love than anyone, and if he said he
was going to marry her one day, then he probably would.
Remus knew that Peter was ashamed of his family,
especially his older sister who he'd once looked up to, and that
fitting in meant more to him than anything else in the world.
Remus knew that Mary's parents were born in Jamaica, and that
she was the only witch in a family of seven, and that she
never, ever cried, even when she was furious.
He knew that Lily cried every time she got a letter from home
and that she wrote to her sister every week and hadn't once
received a response. He knew that Marlene didn't get
on very well with her dad, who was a muggle and who drank too
much sometimes. Then there was Sirius.
But it took nothing special to know Sirius.
He thought he was aloof and mysterious, but the truth was
that Black wore his heart on his sleeve and kept nothing back.
He felt everything so strongly and his happiness was as chaotic
as his misery. Sometimes you had to take a step
back in case you got dragged under his wheels.
Who was Remus then? An orphan, but not quite.
A wizard, but only half blood. A monster, but not every day.
What else was there? No need to flesh out supporting
characters. Too much creak, Mooney.
The whisper filled the room as loud as a klaxon.
Remus did not reply. He was too grumpy.
The door opened and three sets of footsteps entered.
Even with the bed curtains drawn, Remus knew it was James
who approached first. Moni, you sleeping mate?
He sighed, rolling over. No, the curtains were pulled
aside. Remus sat up to make room as
James, then Sirius, then Peter crawled inside to sit with him.
We went to the hospital wing, but she said you'd gone already.
James explained. Came up after dinner.
Where were you? Library.
How was it? Sirius asked.
The full moon and everything OK? He gave the same answer every
month. I it wasn't.
I mean, you weren't cut up too much?
Peter asked, wringing his hands a bit.
Remus nodded. Not too bad.
What were you doing in the library?
That's what we wanted to talk to you about.
Sirius burst out. Obviously he was dying to say
something, and Remus felt the last of his irritation melt away
as his curiosity peaked. Sirius.
James said in the voice he used to temper his friends.
He looked at Remus. We were doing some research, and
it's sort of about you. Sort of.
Serious scoffed. It's all about you, Mooney.
I've wanted to tell you since last term, but James wouldn't.
I just wanted to make sure we could do it.
James elbowed Serious. Stop interrupting me.
Bloody hell, Remus. The thing is, ever since we
found out about your furry little problem, we've wanted to
do something to help. There's no cure.
Remus replied quickly. He didn't like the sound of
this. He felt horribly self-conscious
as they all stared at him with the same mad look in their eyes.
No, no, we know that. James waved a hand.
But we thought there must be something we could do to make
you stop hurting yourself. You know we found out that
normal werewolves don't do that. Peter said, eager to have his
own say so. Normal.
Remus said, alarmed. Not normal.
Sirius kicked Peter. Others.
Others like you who don't get locked up during the moon.
Right, So you're probably doing it to yourself because you're
trapped and frustrated. Well, yeah, I knew that.
Remus drew his knees up to his chest and inched back a bit.
He wished they weren't on his bed.
They were all much too close. He could smell their blood, he
could hear it rushing in their veins.
But we thought if you had company.
Obviously not human company. James explained hurriedly.
Everything we've read says that if you even get near a human,
then they're a goner. But animals?
Sirius exploded. Other animals would probably be
fine. His eyes shone with excitement
and Remus wished he could return it, but he was too distracted to
be able to follow what they were saying.
So what? I need a pet.
James laughed. Sort of, but we thought we could
be the animals. Remus stared at him.
He looked at each of his friends in turn.
They were all barking mad. You're going to be animals, He
said flatly. Like Mcgonigal.
Peter squeaked. Like, But she's an Animagius.
You have to study and train and get registered, and you can't
even start until you're 17. Mooney, Mooney, Mooney.
Sirius shook his head infuriatingly.
We're Marauders, we don't need to bother with all that.
Even if you wanted to break the law.
Remus caught James's eye on that point to confirm that this was
definitely what they were talking about.
This isn't some school prank. It's serious magic, one of the
hardest things to do. That's why we're telling you
about it. Sirius said I wanted it all to
be a surprise, but James reminded us that, well, it is
really bloody hard, so the more help we get, the better.
You really think you can do it, don't you?
Remus frowned. If you help us.
James nodded. We're the best students in the
year, except for Evans. Don't see why we shouldn't try.
What if it goes wrong? Remus chewed his lip.
What if I still after I transform?
What if I can tell you're not really animals?
What if I go for you anyway? We'll test it.
We'll test it over and over until we know it's safe.
Sirius said. It's so risky.
I know. Black's eyes were practically
blazing in his head now, and Remus knew there was no point
trying to be reasonable. He took a deep breath.
Let me think about it, please. He appealed to James.
Don't do anything yet, just give me a few days, OK?
James nodded. That's fair, just think.
Mooney serious grinned as if he hadn't heard them.
Once we've done this, there's nothing we can't do.
We'll be unstoppable.