The Wolf and the Raven

Ch 37 - In Sickness and In Health

WARNING: This chapter contains mentions of self-harm. If this is a trigger for you, please do NOT read. I promise that the narrative will still make sense.
If you are struggling with self-harm or suicidal ideation, please call the suicide hotline at 800-273-8255. This is not just a disclaimer. I have called myself and it saved my life.
You are loved!

There were many more chilly, dark hours before the moon set. Thankfully Branwen had the presence of mind to grab her DADA book before running down the tunnel. Now she flipped it open and began scanning for passages that would help her write the essay that was due the next day. Truthfully, she thought it would help her fall asleep, but when Remus began to howl in that half-human voice that bespoke his agony of changing, she was the first to leap to her feet, prodding the boys until they too were awake.

Like so many moons before, the five of them made their way to the hospital wing under the cover of darkness. Branwen and Peter were the only ones to use the cloak this time. There was no way it would have fit over James and Sirius while they supported their friend's prone body. If they came upon Filch, the two boys at least had the excuse that their friend had taken ill in the night; not a complete lie after all.

They made it to the hospital wing without incident and deposited Remus on his usual bed. The other boys collapsed onto the surrounding beds, while Branwen perched beside Remus. Her eyes traced all of his new wounds, taking stock of how many, how deep, how severe. His ribs were bruised, not unusual. His right hand was mangled, fingers bloody and crooked. And above his left eye was a new gash, overlapping his old scars.

"Where is she?" Everyone started at the sound of Peter's voice.

"What?" James stifled a yawn.

"Where's Pomfrey? She knows what night it is....doesn't she?"

Branwen stood up and looked frantically around. "He's right!"

She ran to the door of Pomfrey's office and knocked several times. "Madam Pomfrey? Madam Pomfrey, are you in there? It's – it's the night of the full moon, Madam Pomfrey."

There was no answer.

Branwen glanced back over her shoulder. Remus was groaning, and his jaw clenched and unclenched. James and the others were nervously rocking on their feet. They looked like lost children.

Branwen's eyes narrowed and she nodded to herself, reaching an internal decision. Running to the dispensary, she threw open the door and grabbed the apron hanging beside it. She rifled through the contents of the storeroom, pulling out what she needed, discarding what she didn't. In her haste, she didn't stop consider why the door had been unlocked or why the apron was just her size

Her dogged, determined manner softened as she approached Remus once more. "Rem?" She waited until he turned his head to watch her through bleary eyes. "I'm going to help you, since we can't find Pomfrey. Is that all right?"

He nodded and his head rolled back on the pillow to stare up at the ceiling.

Branwen came forward and cradled his broken fingers in the palm of her hand. He let out an involuntary whimper. "Episkey." She tapped her wand on the twisted digits. There was a nauseating sound of bone popping and cracking back into place. Before moving on to the other wounds, she tapped the hand once more. "Ferula." Bandages shot from the tip of her wand and wound themselves around his hand, tying themselves off tightly.

Then she selected a phial of purple liquid. It began to smoke when she pulled out the stopper and Remus' body tensed as the potion trickled over his brow. The new cut vanished almost instantly, leaving only a pink scar behind.

Finally, Branwen pulled out a salve that she massaged into his torso, paying special attention to his gaunt, bruised ribcage. The purple colouring started to fade, and Remus let out a long sigh.

"Well done, Miss Potter." The friends jumped when Pomfrey strolled into the room.

"Madam Pomfrey," Branwen breathed, "I – I looked for you. I'm sorry I –" she awkwardly shuffled her feet.

"It's quite all right, dear. In fact, I'm very impressed with the way you handled Mr. Lupin's injuries. Shall I leave the dispensary door open every month now?"

Branwen glanced around at the boys for support, but they were all as wide-eyed and confused as she. "Um, ma'am?"

"You don't think I would abandon my favourite patient, do you? I was watching, but I had complete confidence in your abilities, Miss Potter."

Branwen flushed a bright red, beaming at the Healer's compliment.

Pomfrey smiled and walked through the room raising curtains to allow the rising sun to flood the ward. "Miss Potter, why don't you go take a rest. Eat some breakfast, get your class schedule, then come back this evening. We'll have some tea, and I'll release your young man." She nodded toward Remus, who was now passed out on his cot.

"Yes ma'am," Branwen said slowly. Not knowing what else to do, she and the other boys slowly filed from the room.

"Hey, Bon-Bon," James stopped her outside the room by grabbing her shoulders. "Pomfrey's right. You did a fantastic job with Remus. She's right that you need some sleep too. The boys and I are going to shower before breakfast. Can I trust you to take care of yourself?"

Even as she nodded, James knew there was nothing he could do to enforce his advice. So it was no surprise when Branwen stumbled through the hospital wing doors just after classes let out, looking no better (in fact, far worse) than she had in the morning.

"Branwen –"

Remus was cut off when Pomfrey came bustling over, leaving the bed of a first-year with a severe case of homesickness. "I thought I gave you orders to get some sleep, Miss Potter. What is your excuse for this, this state you're in?"

"Been busy," Branwen muttered.

Pomfrey huffed. "Come with me."

Branwen followed the older woman through the ward and into her office. "Sit." A plush chair jerked itself under her knees, forcing her down. "Eat." A kettle in the corner began to sing and it, along with a plate of biscuits, soared onto a tray. "I was prepared to make you an offer, Miss Potter, but now, I'm not so sure that you're ready for it."

"Please, ma'am," Branwen quickly grabbed a biscuit and downed a scalding gulp of tea. "I can handle....whatever it is."

Pomfrey sighed. "Miss Potter, you show great potential for a Healer. If it's a path you wish to pursue, I will support you in anyway I can. I'd like to begin by having you assist me here one evening each week. That will, I hope, bolster your skills enough that you can be responsible for Mr. Lupin's care when....when he requires it. Is that something you would be interested in?"

Branwen had a biscuit in her mouth and crumbs tumbled from her lips as she smiled. "I would like that very much, ma'am."

Pomfrey did not return her smile. "However, the fist thing a good Healer knows is that you cannot care for others if you have not first cared for yourself. Frankly, my dear, you look a fright at the moment. When was the last time you slept? Ate?"

Branwen's tired mind tried recall an answer. "I tried to sleep the night before we got here, but I was so excited...."

"I thought as much. Now, I'd like you join Mr. Lupin out there as a patient."

"But, Madam –"

"There will be no arguments. When you are rested and in a better state of mind, we'll discuss a schedule for your training. Now, get out." Pomfrey handed her a pair of pyjamas then followed her from the office. She set the tray of tea and biscuits on the table between Remus and the empty bed beside him. Branwen crawled into this bed, and Pomfrey left them to examine the homesick first-year once more.

"Branwen....what's wrong?" Remus closed the book in his hand and leaned toward her bed.

"Madam Pomfrey offered to take me under her wing. Teaching me Healing."

"That's great," he beamed, "but, uh, why are you in bed? You sick?"

"Sort of. She's not happy with me....you know.... not eating or sleeping."

"Well, good for her, then, making you stay here," Remus nodded with a frown. "You look like shit."

Branwen rolled her eyes. "You know how to make a girl swoon, Lupin."

"Huh," he leaned back on his pillows, arms crossed, "I reckon you are a girl now, aren't you?"

"For your information, I've been a girl for the past thirteen years," she snapped. But when she turned to stare at him, she saw the humour sparkling in his eyes. She scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out.

He laughed loudly, then waited until the first-years was escorted out by a Prefect and Pomfrey disappeared back into her office. "Seriously though, Branwen. You can't treat yourself like this."

"You're one to talk," she shot back, voice brittle.

"What are you on about?"

Branwen glanced around, then slid out of her bed to sit on the edge of his. She held out her hand. He looked down into her waiting fingers. He knew what she wanted, but made no move to satisfy her. She huffed, then grabbed his wrist and shoved back his sleeve. The gahses she had seen when he arrived at her house were still there.

"No wolf made these," she said quietly.

"How would you know what a wolf can do?" he jerked his arm away.

"I know that wolves don't pack bloody razor blades in their trunks."

"Why were you going through my things?" he grumbled.

"I was worried about you. I knew you were hurting, and no one is allowed to hurt my best friend," she met his gaze.

For a moment, blue and green eyes clashed, each daring the other to deny the truth. Then Remus' head bowed and he stared helplessly at their hands, still intertwined. "You don't know what it's like," his words came out as hardly more than a breath, "at home, during the holidays, without you and the lads. There's nothing to do but feel pain. I try not to, but...."

She reached out with her other hand to stroke his cheek with her thumb. When her fingers came into contact with his skin, she felt him shiver. He fell against her shoulder, clinging to her like a life-preserver. He didn't cry. He never did. He just held on and shook as though every breath would be his last.

"It's going to be all right," she finally whispered. "I'm not going to let you handle it alone. I promise."

He gave a shuddering sigh in response. She brushed through his hair with her fingers, then moved to stand. His grip on her hand tightened though. "Please."

She smiled.

He scooted as far as could in the narrow bed, and she climbed under the blanket beside him. Unashamed of physical contact with her brother and friends, Branwen snuggled up to him, clutching his pyjama shirt in her fist. She was asleep almost instantly.