Harry Potter One Shots And Imagines III

Remus Lupin- Night (a)

Carefully you ran your hands across the tattered, hole-ridden curtains of the shrieking shack's master bedroom, after reaching the end you firmly grabbed the dense fabric, yanked each side apart and let the swirling storms of dust be illuminated by the feint sunlight that managed to sneak through the filthy windows. You admired the bleak view outside and watched as the light snow settled and disappeared onto the already thickly covered ground. The view inside was far more disheartening, you had done what you could to make the place a bit more comfortable for Remus' transformations but a new rug and a fresh set of bedding could realistically only do so much.

"Help me!" The already splintered door crashed against the wall, Remus fell in behind it. His hands collided against the hefty floorboards. The thick, almost coagulated blood imprinted itself in the shape of Remus' hands as he picked himself up and rushed over to you. "I need you to help me, I don't know what happened last night." With a deep thud he fell to his knees in front of you and raised his trembling palms into the air. It was not just his hands that had been stained by the gore, his cheek had three quite distinct strips running down, his bare chest had been met with some light scratch marks arrogantly decorating themselves across his body.

"What happened?" Quickly you pulled your shirt off your back and began scrubbing at Remus' hands, the blood was already far too dried and your vigorous rubbing only sent a few small flakes falling to the floor. You pulled your wand from your boot, aimed the tip at the cloth and whispered "aguamenti", a small jet of pristine water bolted from your wand and soaked into the cloth. This was far more effective at cleaning and soon all that was left was dark red stains embedded deeply into his fingernails.

"I escaped." Your heart sank to the very pits of your stomach. "Last night, I escaped."

"How?" You asked, pulling an exhausted Remus up from the floor and almost carrying him over to the bed as his feet dragged along the floor.

"I don't know." With a light circular motion you wiped the blood from his face and pulled the duvet up to his waist.

"Where did all the... all the blood, all the scratches come from?"

"I don't know." Silent tears rolled down his cheek and onto the freshly washed pillowcase. "I don't remember anything that happened last night." His body gave up fighting the fatigue, his eyes closed and his head fell against the pillow.

~*~

Written by Aaron.