Loose ends chapter 15 - Hagrid

Hagrid visits in preparation for the full moon. A bit of angst and swearing. PG.

This is a work of fan fiction. The world and all recognisable characters belong to J.K. Rowling and I make no claim or profit etc

Hagrid
By the time Hagrid arrived in the afternoon, the worst of the fever and cough had passed. Andromeda had completed the rehydration and Snape had slept for a couple of hours before waking. It was a sullen and uncommunicative Snape who awoke, but Lupin was at least relieved that Hagrid had a chance to speak with the adult Snape before meeting Sevvy.

“Nice ter see yeh again, Professor. It’s bin a while.”

Snape scowled at Hagrid’s cheerful greeting.

“Yer in a right sorry state, aren’t yeh?” Hagrid added bluntly.

“Fuck off,” growled Snape.

“In that sort o’ mood, eh? Don’t s’pose it matters, I’ll be here ter see yeh don’t manage to kill yerself or anyone else. There’s nothin’ that says yeh have ter talk to me, better than usin’ that language. I’ll have much more pleasant company anyway.”

Hagrid leaned down to pat Grimmy, who was sitting on Hagrid’s foot and looking adoringly up at him. Grimmy would be delighted to have Hagrid’s company during the full moon. Like the rest of the household, he was unsettled when Lupin was not there.

“I’ll take Grimmy out ter the garden for a bit then? Don’t s’pose yeh’ve had time?”

“That would be wonderful, Hagrid.”

Extracting his foot from underneath Grimmy, Hagrid left the room, followed by the eager dog. A few minutes later, the pair appeared in the garden, and Hagrid began throwing the ball.

“Would you like to watch them, Severus?”

“Why would I want to do that, Lupin?” Snape replied through clenched teeth.

“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Lupin in a slightly snappy tone, “Because you are bored of staring at the wall sulking? Because it might take your mind off feeling sorry for yourself for a few minutes?”

Snape gave Lupin a dirty look, then began struggling upright. Lupin reached across to assist him, although in his weakened state, Lupin was no great help. Snape rested his head against the window frame, breathing heavily, exhausted by the effort of getting up. He winced at the thumping in his head.

“Would you like some water?”

“I…” Snape paused, concentration on his face. “I don’t know. I’m thirsty but…”

“Still feeling sick?”

Snape gave no answer, but looked out the window and watched Hagrid with Grimmy.

“Lupin, I remember a healer coming. She wasn’t from St Mungo’s, was she?”

“No Severus. You were rather upset at the prospect of going to St Mungo’s. You were equally reluctant for us to call Madame Pomphrey or Hermione. So we called Lucretia Temple. She’s the werewolf healer from the Institute.”

Snape glanced briefly at Lupin without moving his head.

“Temple? So when you say she’s a werewolf healer, you mean she’s a werewolf, as well as a healer for werewolves.”

Lupin raised his eyebrow. It was most impolite to ask directly whether someone was a werewolf. He also thought it curious that Snape had heard of the secretive family, that he knew the name almost certainly meant she was a werewolf.

It had been a Ministry decree, many years ago, that a woman who was bitten could never change her name, not for marriage, not for divorce, not to hide her past. Because any baby she bore would be turned in the womb. And because the child would carry her curse, it must carry her name, not the father’s.

Centuries had passed since the first Temple woman – a legendary healer – was turned. The story went that she was pregnant and bore a werewolf daughter, thus starting the line. From that point onwards, the Temples were werewolf healers. They shunned contact with “Alunars”, and the Ministry preferred that things stayed that way. Occasionally a desperate witch or wizard would track one of them down, seeking treatment from the werewolves when all else failed. There were stories of remarkable cures, although with a substantial payment demanded unless they were treating a werewolf. The Temples were a law unto themselves.

“You are well-informed, Severus,” Lupin said eventually.

“There are discussions among potion makers. The Temples have invented many potions, healing potions mostly. At times they have been willing to share the recipes. Most of the potions are so difficult that few are interested in making them, although some have made it into wider use. ” Snape paused, frowning. “Oh, shit, I thought my brain was actually working for once, but…I have no idea what those potions are.”

“Argyria, Dragonbalm and Postlune are the only ones I’m aware of. Argyria’s been known about for years of course.” Lupin said, failing to mask a look of pain as he remembered the months of agonising treatment, with the smoking liquid poured onto his wounds from a silver jug. “And Drgaonbalm. Postlune is new, Lucretia introduced that.”

“That… that doesn’t sound familiar. What is it? What’s in it?”

Lupin smiled slightly, noticing a definite spark of interest in Snape’s voice.

“It’s a healing potion for after the full moon. It’s amazing, werewolves who are fit are often nearly at full strength again in a few hours. I’m still in a bad way for a few days, but then I’m…not in the best shape anyway. I couldn’t tell you exactly what was in it, but if I remember correctly, there are a lot of poisons. Orpiment, I think. Ergot and… henbane. I couldn’t name them all though. Apparently it’s very difficult and dangerous. Maybe not as difficult as Wolfsbane, but definitely quite advanced.”

“I don’t suppose they would share the recipe? Not that I could make it, but…I suppose it would be interesting to see.”

“I’m sure I could ask. And if you were looking for a distraction, I do have a few old potion books here.”

“You? What are you doing with potion books?” Snape snorted scornfully.

“I wasn’t completely incompetent, Severus.”

“No, you weren’t,” Snape admitted. “You always let people think you were less capable than you really were. A lifelong habit of yours. You were actually quite competent at times, I remember you brewed…”

Snape’s voice tailed off and his face lost its expression. Lupin looked at him. Had Snape got confused, lost the thread of his thought? Or had he strayed into a memory he wanted to forget. Lupin redirected the conversation into a safer direction.

“Lucretia will come back tomorrow and check on you before she takes me back to the Institute for the full moon.”

“She’s the healer who has been treating you, isn’t she?”

Lupin nodded.

“She saved my life. Even if the St Mungo’s healers had treated me, which they wouldn’t, I doubt they’d have taken so much care. Nobody expected me to be able to walk again, and I can, sometimes anyway. At one stage I could barely do any magic, now I can do most things, at least on my better days. She doesn’t have much experience with eyes, so she hasn’t been able to figure out what’s wrong with my eye, but that’s not so bad. With the glasses I get by.”

Lupin turned again to Hagrid and Grimmy in the garden. Grimmy was bounding around Hagrid, tirelessly streaking after the ball when he threw it, occasionally flopping on his back at Hagrid’s feet to get his belly scratched.

“I could watch Grimmy for hours, Severus. Just watching his complete joy in life makes me feel a little happier.”

“Small things amuse small minds, Lupin.”

Lupin glanced at Snape. He was tempted to remind the man that he willingly spent many hours with the dog himself, but stopped himself from baiting Snape while he was still ill.

Although Snape was undoubtedly better than he had been earlier, Lupin was still concerned. Snape was slumped against the window frame, too weak to sit comfortably upright. Without the flush of fever, his face was deathly pale, and he was underweight almost to the point of emaciation. And Lupin noticed something that hadn’t been there earlier, a faint trembling. He could just be cold, but it could also be a return of the post-Cruciatus symptoms.

“Severus?”

Lupin put his hand gently on Snape’s back, feeling the tremors that were building up deep in his body.

“Severus, do you need the anti-Crucio potion?”

Snape said nothing.

“Severus?”

“I’m fine.”

“I really don’t think so, Severus.”

Lupin looked at him more closely. Snape was avoiding his eyes, and had an odd expression on his face.

“Severus, what is it?” A note of irritation was creeping into Lupin’s voice.

Very softly, Snape replied, “You can’t take the anti-Crucio potion.”

Lupin realised that the look on Snape’s face was guilt. He let out a huff of breath.

“For Merlin’s sake, Severus, don’t be ridiculous. If you need the damn potion, just take it.”

Snape flinched at the snappy tone in Lupin’s voice. Realising just how fragile the man still was, Lupin immediately regretted his sharp words. He was always irritable in the days before the full moon, along with the tiredness, aches, lack of concentration and frustrating absent-mindedness.

“I’m sorry, Severus, I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he said, his voice now gentle again. “You know, Harry needs the potion himself on occasion. It doesn’t bother me that he takes it although I can’t. It would upset me far more to watch him suffer.”

“Yes, but he’s… Harry Potter. He’s…”

“He’s what, Severus?”

“You… he’s your friend’s son. You care about him.”

“I care about you too, Severus. We all do. Please, Severus, take the potion.”

Snape hung his head forward and sighed. Finally he nodded, without lifting his head or meeting Lupin’s eye. Lupin reached for the bottle, poured out a measure and gave it to Snape.

“Thank you, Lupin,” Snape said quietly.

“It’s no trouble, Severus,” Lupin responded, realising that it was a rare thing indeed to be thanked by Snape.

“Well, that’s a lie. Clearly it’s a great deal of trouble. I’ve caused you nothing but trouble. I…I don’t understand why. Why you would do this for me.”

Lupin looked across at Snape, noticing the resigned expression and the way he hung his head, as if ashamed. As if, Lupin thought, he didn’t believe he deserved to be cared for when sick. As if he didn’t believe he deserved friends who would stand by him when he needed help.

“You know that we all agreed on this, don’t you, when we first realised how ill you were?”

“Who? Agreed on what?”

“Harry, Andromeda and I. That we would look after you. Get you through this time. And then give you a home if you needed one. We all agreed you would never end up in Asphodel Fields.”

“But why, I don’t understand.”

Snape looked down, his voice soft, almost whimpering.

“Because we care about you, Severus. Because you were one of the great heroes of the war, both wars. You made huge sacrifices to carry out Dumbledore’s wishes, and he asked more of you than anyone should ask of another. You deserve to have people stand by you now.”

“That’s rubbish. I did my part, as you did. I also did the most appalling things. I didn’t join the death eaters to be Dumbledore’s spy, I joined because I wanted to. I committed countless atrocities, created foul potions and hexes, I tortured, I killed. I’m a despicable, disgusting creature and there is nothing that will erase the vileness of what I’ve done, nothing, nothing.”

Snape was becoming agitated, his breathing rapid, eyes wild. Lupin placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Severus, please, that’s not true. I’ve seen time and again that you are a good man. Please, please calm yourself.”

Snape shook his head, but his breathing slowed. As it did, his eyes went blank, and Lupin realised that he was trying to find some mental shields. Asking Snape to calm himself was a mistake when his mind was in such as state.

“Severus, stay with me.”

But Snape had retreated to an unreachable corner of his mind. In his place, Lupin was once again faced with Sevvy.

Loose ends chapter 16 - full moon

Snape has a tantrum when Lupin tries to leave for the full moon. Hagrid comes off second best. Swearing, low-level violence, aftermath of child abuse. With extra werewolves. R?

This is a work of fan fiction. The world and all recognisable characters belong to J.K. Rowling (apart from references to Dr Seuss) and I make no claim or profit etc

Full moon
Snape flung himself to the floor beside Lupin’s chair and wrapped his arms around Lupin’s lower legs. He buried his face in the robe which Lupin always wore when visiting the Institute.

“No,” he cried.

Lupin gently stroked his hand across Snape’s head. Over the previous night and day, Sevvy had appeared more and more often. He clung to Lupin, demanding his attention even though the werewolf was utterly exhausted.

“It’s okay, Sevvy, I’m coming back. I just need to be away for the night.”

‘NO,” he wailed again, louder this time.

“Shh, Sevvy.”

“NO, don’t go.”

Snape was hysterical, half sobbing, half screaming. Lupin winced with pain at Snape’s grip around his legs. Teddy began to cry too, struggling in Andromeda’s arms.

“Daddy, don’t go.”

Andromeda carried him from the room, murmuring for him to be quiet, leaving four to deal with Sevvy.

Hagrid crouched down beside Snape and Lupin, and put his hands over Snape’s.

“Hush now, you need to let go. You’re hurting Remus.”

Slowly he attempted to prise Snape’s arms from Lupin’s legs. Snape struggled against him, but Hagrid was much stronger. As Snape’s grip loosened, Lupin pulled himself free with a sigh of relief. Snape reacted with a scream, and bit Hagrid hard on the hand. Hagrid yelped in pain – Snape had drawn blood. Hagrid kept his grip but Snape began to struggle more violently. He began to kick at Hagrid’s legs and bit him again, this time on his arm.

“Fuck you,” Snape yelled as he kicked again at Hagrid’s legs and grabbed his beard in his fist. “Fucking asshole. Filthy cunt. Useless little shit. Fuck you stupid cunt.”

Harry and Lupin looked at eachother, then Harry stepped towards the struggling pair. He pointed his wand at Snape.

“Hebetare,” he said, and suddenly Snape’s struggling ceased. He slumped against Hagrid, who lowered him gently to the floor.

“You okay Hagrid?” Harry asked.

“Oh, aye, not near as bad as a Hippogriff on a bad day.”

“Here, let me look,” said Lucretia, stepping forward and taking Hagrid’s bleeding hand in hers. “I’ll need to clean that, bites can get infected. Even alunar ones.”

Hagrid followed her from the room, while Harry and Lupin looked at the immobilised Snape.

“Sevvy, can you hear me?” Lupin asked.

Harry crouched beside Snape and lifted his head gently so that he could see Lupin. The eyes which flicked towards Lupin were still terrified, the breathing still rapid and shallow. Lupin could smell urine.

He leaned forward to Snape, gently brushing the hair back from his face.

“Sevvy, it’s ok,” he said, his voice hushed almost to a whisper. “Nobody here will hurt you. Even if I’m not here, this is a safe place for you, okay.”

Lupin continued to stroke his hair but turned his eyes to Harry.

“What did you use on him?”

“It’s something we use on violent prisoners, it relaxes the muscles of the limbs so that they can’t struggle.”

“Is…er…loss of bladder control a side effect?”

“No, it doesn’t affect those muscles” he said, glancing down at Snape before returning he eyes to Lupin. He continued speaking, in a more gentle voice. “I think it’s probably that he’s terrified. I can release the spell slowly, give him back some partial muscle control. That may help him feel calmer.”

Lupin watched as Harry took his wand in one hand, the other still cradling Snape’s head.

“Attenuare incantatem.”

Snape began to move, and immediately reached across and grabbed at Lupin’s legs again. The grip was more gentle though, as the spell was diminished but not ended.

“Back where we started,” sighed Lupin, his face frustrated but his hand gentle as he stroked the head that rested against his thigh .

Lucretia and Hagrid returned to the room, Hagrid’s hand no longer bleeding.

“Hades,” Lucretia said softly, “I see what you mean about being difficult.”

“He’s never been like this before, not this bad,” replied Lupin, continuing to stroke Snape’s hair in the same way he unconsciously soothed an upset Teddy.

“Remus, we really do need to leave now. We still have to pick up Nick and Bill on the way,” Lucretia said.

Lupin nodded.

“Harry, can you keep him restrained if needed? But please, not too much. He’s frightened enough as it is.”

Harry crouched next to Snape and put a hand on his shoulder, although Snape was flinching away from him.

“He’ll be ok, we will look after him. And I’ll get him cleaned up.”

Lupin turned to Hagrid.

“Are you sure about doing this?”

“Aye, not a problem. As I said, I’ve had worse with the animals.”

Lupin looked down again at Snape.

“Sevvy, I’m going now. I’ll be back in the morning, I will see you then.”

Snape began to cry, but was unable to resist as Harry moved his arms from Lupin’s legs. Lupin took his wand and vanished the tear and snot marks on his robe, and smoothed out the creases. The Institute’s director was old school, and nobody would dare turn up wearing stained, informal or muggle clothing. Except Lucretia, but then she followed her own rules. Lucretia moved Lupin’s chair from the room, taking him to say goodbye to Teddy and Andromeda, before leaving the farmhouse and apparating them both away.

As soon as Lupin arrived at the Institute, he was surrounded by the children who lived there.

“Mr Lupin, Mr Lupin, look at this.”

“Mr Lupin, I drew you a picture.”

“Mr Lupin, come and watch me. I can do a cartwheel now.”

“Mr Lupin, will you read to us?”

He greeted each of the six children in turn, then managed to convince them to talk to Bill Weasley for a few minutes. Despite not actually transforming, the Ministry still required him to spend the full moon either restrained at home or at the Institute. Bill came every month, spending a pleasant evening drinking with the institute’s director and one other “non-transforming werewolf” – as the Ministry classified them. They slept in spare rooms then when morning came he helped care for the werewolves after they transformed back. While the children were distracted by Bill, Lupin spoke to a pale-looking young man who hovered impatiently nearly.

“Wormwood, how are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” the man answered dismissively, although it was probably untrue. “How’s Professor Snape? Lucretia said he was staying with you, that’s he’s rather under the weather.”

Lupin nodded. The Institute’s young potion maker bore the distinction of being possibly the only student in Hogwarts history to consider Snape his favourite teacher. He had been prodigiously talented at potions – not surprising as the child of seventeen generations of expert potion makers, but he surpassed even the expectations of his family. He had a singlemindedness which won him few friends, but endeared him to his teacher. After a few unfortunate accidents due to Wormwood conducting potion experiments in the Ravenclaw common room, Snape had allowed him to spend his spare time in the Hogwarts lab, where Snape could ensure the boy did not harm himself or others. It probably helped their relationship that the boy appeared immune to sarcasm and had little conversation which didn’t revolve around potions.

Wormwood had earned top marks in potions, and mediocre marks in everything else, every year. In his final year, the same year Lupin taught at Hogwarts, he had been accepted into the Potions Academy. Lupin had heard from Snape that he was a star pupil there too, but had heard nothing of him after the war.

And then Harry had come home from a visit to Diagon Alley one day, saying he had recognised a young man slinking around, stealing food from rubbish bins behind the Leaky Cauldron.

“I recognise him from Hogwarts. He was a few years ahead but I think you taught him. I remember him because he was a bit weird. He used to hang out in the potions lab practicing and helping Professor Snape.”

“Ah,” said Lupin. “Wormwood Fox. Of course I remember him. But what on earth’s he doing stealing rubbish behind the Leaky Cauldron?”

“He looked awful, scruffy and starving.”

“He must be desperate. Perhaps you could take some food up tomorrow, and see if he’s still there.”

Harry had duly taken the food, and the young man had accepted it warily.

“I said I’d take him more tomorrow,” Harry reported when he returned home. “I asked him to meet me around three. I thought maybe if you were feeling okay you could come. Maybe he’d talk to you.”

The next day Harry apparated home early and took Lupin to London to meet Wormwood, but he hadn’t been there. They waited half an hour, sniffing the aromas of the rubbish bins, and hoping he’d turn up. Finally, Lupin noticed something, another scent beyond the rubbish. Something almost human, but slightly canine.

“Harry, I know what happened to him,” said Lupin quietly, then more firmly he said “Wormwood, you can come out, you are quite safe with us.”

Lupin could hear him moving about.

“Wormwood, it’s me, Professor Lupin. Do you remember me from Hogwarts? I’m the teacher that’s a werewolf.”

The young man appeared, disbelief on his face. He was filthy, his clothes tattered, his hair long and matted. His eyes were wide with fear.

“Come here, Wormwood,” Lupin said softly, and the young man approached cautiously. Lupin reached out his hand. Suddenly the young man grasped his hand and flung himself down in front of the chair, his head against Lupin’s knees. He began to cry, and between sobs, the whole story tumbled out, a long and involved tale about giant Black Forest earthworms and the magical properties that their slime has when collected at the full moon, how he hadn’t thought twice about collecting potion ingredients at the full moon close to one of the highest werewolf populations in Europe, how he had only narrowly escaped with his life because he had been collecting acanthite at the Himmelsfurt mine on the same trip, the disgust of his family that he had been turned, and his desperation at having nowhere to go and nobody to help him.

They had taken Wormwood to the Institute, the only safe place for a werewolf who had been rejected by their family. Initially, he had been reluctant to go, until Lupin had mentioned there was a potions lab there, unused since the previous potion maker had been killed in the war, leaving the Institute relying on commercial potions. He moved himself into the lab, even eating and sleeping there, refusing to look around the Institute or speak to the other residents and staff, whether werewolf or not. Eventually, after a week or two of doing nothing more than make potions, he emerged, back to his usual obsessive, but generally good-natured, self.

Within a couple of months Wormwood was a valued member of the Institute staff. He had also, Lupin noticed, drawn the attention of the young werewolf healer. They spent hours discussing the healing recipes from her family and other potions which were useful for werewolves. She had sat and watched him as he practiced brewing Wolfsbane, Postlune and Argyria for weeks, despite the fact that her knowledge of potions was purely theoretical, related to their application, and her supervision was of no practical use.

Lupin noticed the anxious look on Wormwood’s face as he waited for news of his former teacher.

“Severus is…” Lupin paused, knowing Snape would be upset to have a former student knowing the truth of his condition. “Severus is not well right now. He hasn’t really been looking after himself since the war ended, I suspect. Mostly I think he just needs a quiet environment and some decent care.”

“Really? What about the Dreamless Sleep and the memory problems, and thinking he’s a six year old?”

Lupin sighed. He should have known Lucretia would tell Wormwood everything. Between the two of them, they had less tact and discretion than James had had. And, however much Lupin had adored his friend, he had to admit that was not much.

“Lucretia told me. But you didn’t want me to know,” Wormwood added, looking puzzled.

“Severus is a rather private man. He doesn’t like people knowing things like that. Especially former students.”

“Yes, but I was his favourite student,” Wormwood replied, with neither self-consciousness nor arrogance.

Lupin nodded. It was quite true, but he still didn’t know whether a miserable and ill Snape would want to see the young man.

“I won’t be in top form for a couple of days, but after that, may I please come and see him? Of course I’m willing to help in any way possible. If there are any potions he requires I can make them. Except Dreamless Sleep obviously, I promise I won’t make that.”

“I’ll ask him, Wormwood,” Lupin replied. “He just might prefer to wait until he is feeling better before having visitors.”

Lupin noticed other werewolves arriving, and Wormwood moved off to greet them. The young man took his role as host seriously, making the visitors welcome, asking after their health and that of friends and family. A few months before, the hours before the full moon had seen Wormwood lurching from withdrawn and trembling, to panic attack, to weeping in Lupin's arms. Wormwood was still terrified, but Lupin admired the way he focused on caring for others to calm himself. Lupin returned to speaking with the children, now a group of seven after the arrival of a girl of sixteen who lived with her uncle, one of the Institute’s dragon keepers. He listened to their stories of life at the Institute and chatted to the other werewolves who came over to say hello. Finally, Wormwood returned, anxiety now clearly showing on his face.

“It’s time,” he said grimly.

Lupin nodded as Wormwood began moving his chair down to the changing room, where they left their clothes before heading out into the walled garden for the transformation. To distract Wormwood, Lupin asked him about his Hogwarts days, about making potions with Snape in his dungeon laboratory. The young man relaxed slightly, when upset or anxious he liked nothing more than an in-depth discussion on potion ingredients. As Wormwood began to talk, Lupin started to think that a visit from Wormwood to Snape might not be a bad thing. It would be a distraction for Snape, and Wormwood was quite capable of keeping up a conversation on his own if Snape had nothing to say back. And Snape might even rather enjoy hearing the young man listing potion ingredients with such enthusiasm – Merlin knew that nobody else, not even Lucretia, really wanted to hear that.

Slowly, the changing room filled up. The friendly chatter from earlier in the evening had faded, and the room was nearly silent. The werewolves walked in and each found a space to begin stripping their clothes. They avoided looking at eachother. Last to slink into the room was a young man, tall and elegant like his sister, but without her confident way of moving. Octavian Temple tried to avoid all company apart from his dragons as much as possible.

When the transformation was over, Lupin was exhausted. He’d tried to sleep, but the moonlight had kept the wolf part of him awake and restless. All night, images of the terrified Sevvy begging him not to leave had intruded on his attempts at calm. Once he had been cleaned up and dressed, and had managed to keep down some of the Postlune potion that Wormwood brewed, he waited impatiently for Harry or Andromeda to come and get him.

In the end, it was a tired-looking Harry who arrived to take him home. Before even asking how he was, Harry assured him that they were all okay, that Snape had been mostly calm, and that Hagrid still had all his limbs intact.

“Mostly Severus or Sevvy?” Lupin asked as they arrived back at the farmhouse.

Harry sighed.

“Mostly Sevvy. It seems like he’s having trouble staying as Severus. But you were right about Hagrid. After you left, Sevvy lay crying on the floor for a bit, then Hagrid just picked him up and held him on his lap, and he calmed down.”

They entered the house, finding Hagrid on the floor of the sitting room, playing with Teddy. The boy looked up at his father.

“Daddy,” he called, and got up from his trains. He flung himself at Lupin, who winced.

“Yer lookin’ awful,” said Hagrid, noticing Lupin’s state. “Even for yeh.”

“Thanks so much,” responded Lupin, a slight smile just visible in his eyes through the pain and exhaustion.

Harry took Lupin through to check on Snape and Andromeda. Snape was facing the wall, and didn’t turn his head as the trio entered the room. Andromeda brought her finger to her lips to indicate quiet.

“Finally asleep,” she whispered. “Probably won’t last though.”

Harry took Lupin to his room and helped him into bed.

“See, no trouble at all,” he said as Lupin drifted off to sleep.