FIC: Twelve Days of Something for oneturtlebug
Title: Twelve days of something
Author: red_squared (Esinde Nayrall)
Recipient: oneturtlebug
Rating: R
Warnings: Implied violence.
Word Count: 5,000 (approx)
Summary: A consortium is looking for werewolves and researchers to participate in a study on the impact of a lunar eclipse on the transformation. Remus is a werewolf. Sirius is a Healer. Unfortunately, that may be as far as they get...
Author's notes: The request says that you're fond of 'plot, angst, darkfic, Sirius' mental state post-Azkaban, post-prank (THE prank) tension, Snape, both AU and Canon fics, banter,' so this fic is not particularly Christmas-y, but I hope you like it all the same! Thanks to the mods for running the fest, and an especially big thank you to mindabbles for her speedy beta work ♥
A werewolf in a study
On the first day, they show Remus to his room. It's larger than his room in the apartment he shares with Sirius, and it has its own bathroom. The sun shining in from the windows paints stripes of light across the neat, single bed. There are ruffles on the bed sheets, magazines on the night stand, and bars on the windows.
"We hope you'll be comfortable here," a medi-witch says, with one hand on her wand-hilt the whole time, and a smile that never reaches her eyes. "For your own safety, we ask that you don't leave your room without an escort."
"Thank you, you're very kind," he says, with a cheerful smile that does reach his eyes (he practises), "but I'm confused as to what you think I might need protection from?"
"Some of the other specimens are territorial," she says.
He doesn't bother to point out that they're werewolves, not wolves, and that in anycase, they will have only been here for less than a day. The only thing territorial about a werewolf is the disease itself. It means that almost every other virus or infection a person could possibly catch is rapidly sent packing by the werewolf curse.
" -- don't want any accidents, and while you can likely defend yourself, you aren't formally trained in spell work or defensive charms. We are, and we'll able to separate the two of you without any further injury."
For some reason, this gives him a mental image of her throwing a bucket of water over two dogs, and it takes him a little while to notice that she's wrapping up her welcome routine.
It's only after she's gone -- locking the door behind her, from the outside -- that he realises the significance of what she said about needing an escort at all times. The werewolves being studied in this facility are all under the age of thirty. Nearly all of them will have been bitten when they were children, which means that most of them will either never have started or never have completed formal magical schooling.
Most of us, he thinks to himself, as he unzips his Bottomless-Pit (guaranteed bottomless, or your money back) Scrip and turns it inside out so that it forms a coat-stand, with all of the robes he's hung up on the inside now neatly hanging around the outside, and airing out.
Reaching for his wand, he checks under the bed and then starts exploring his room to see if he can find anything worth being territorial over.
"They don't ask for names, or addresses, or anything like that," he tells Sirius.
"'Like that'?"
"Like where I'm registered, or even if I am. I suspect part of the reason is because they want some idea of how many werewolves there are in these parts, since not all of us are registered."
Sirius continues to look over the documents that Prewett has sent over. "Says here four weeks."
"Yes. They want to observe us during Full for an ordinary moon, and then again four weeks later during the lunar eclipse. What do you think?"
"Doesn't matter what I think," Sirius says. He gives a flippant shrug, but when he tries to hand the documents back to Remus, his fingers are shaking.
"It matters to me," he says, taking the documents only to set them on the table before reaching for Sirius' hand. "I won't do it if you don't think I should."
Sirius looks at him in surprise. "Do you really mean that?"
~*~
Two tragic tales
On the second day, he meets Javier. Javier is one of the other werewolves participating in the study, and has been allocated the room next to Remus'. Javier is seven, and was bitten only a few months ago.
This will be Javier's first lunar eclipse, Remus learns as they're chatting over dinner.
"You look very tired. I think you've had enough for today," one of the researchers says, as he takes Javier away.
Remus is puzzled by this. Javier and Remus haven't had a chance to do very much more than exchange names, and Javier hasn't had a chance to finish his meal. He doesn't waste too much time thinking about it, though. Werewolves aren't human, after all, and for some this means they don't need to be treated like people, even though werewolves are expected to behave like people.
After dinner, they're all escorted back to their rooms. Remus waits until it's quiet outside the door, and uses his wand to open the bars on the window so that he can climb out onto the ledge. He undoes the protective charms on Javier's window and then raps on it from the outisde until Javier opens it and sticks out his head.
"I thought you might be hungry," he says, holding up one of the twenty-thousand sweets Sirius insisted on packing for him.
"I'll eat later -- they'll bring me food again," Javier says, addressing his answer to the packet of sweets, rather than to Remus
"You've been here for a while?"
"Since I was bitten. I've been here longest." He must have, at that. As far as Remus is aware, the rest of them are only here for the eclipse. "They don't like me to talk to you others."
He's not sure what to say to that, so he lowers the packet and waits. When Javier doesn't say anything more, he asks, "Did they say why?"
"They want me to... Very Fie?"
"Verify?"
"Yes?" Javier says, waiting for Remus' nod before continuing. "They don't want me to copy."
"To... to copy?"
"To cheat. To use someone else's answers. They ask me 'Is your skin hot?' 'Are you hungry?' 'How much does this hurt?' I won't cheat! But... But they ask the same questions over and over. Do they... Do they keep me back, because I am always wrong?"
"I don't think you can give the wrong answer," he says, with a reassuring smile. "And they ask you so many times to make sure you give the same answer, so that they can verify your earlier responses. They want to know what it feels like for you. Nobody else can answer that for you, and nobody can tell you you're wrong."
"But I am wrong all of the time," Javier says in a miserable whisper. "Because I left the camp without my father -- and he forgot my hat! And it was at the river, and if I lost it, he would be angry. I only went to get it, and they said I shouldn't if it was dark, but it wasn't dark, and -- "
Remus listens to the garbled re-telling in silence, because the last thing the boy needs to hear right now is to slow down or to start again or to be clearer. In any case, it's relatively straightforward -- autumn camping trip with the family, shortening days, an earlier than average moon rise, and a little boy wandering out by himself. The rest is simply detail.
Once Javier is done and has calmed down a little, Remus explains that everybody's experience is different, so there are no right or wrong answers. That naturally leads on to his own telling of how he was bitten. When he gets to the part about the silver-backed, brown, rangy wolf that had tracked him down, Javier laughs.
"What is it?" he asks, smiling to indicate that it's all right, and that he's not offended.
"You were bitten by a skinny brown wolf, with a grey back?" Remus nods assent, and Javier frowns sternly. "But now you are copying me!"
"This study... Says here they need researchers as well as... As..."
"As well as 'specimens', Sirius. You can say it, I don't mind. It's been like this since I was first bitten," he says gently, remembering his very first lunar eclipse. The physical transformation doesn't actually occur, but the mental one does. In some ways, that's a lot worse. He much prefers to keep all of those lupine instincts and desires locked up tight within the wolf-form -- he doesn't want them in his own. "What is it?" he asks, when he sees Sirius frowning at him.
"Only that... You were so small when you were bitten. How can you know how much of who you are is because of the bite, and how much is who you would have been without it?"
It's something he's wondered himself, more than once. But it has nothing to do with his sense of smell, or his hearing, or his higher than average tolerance for pain. Rather, the changes are of the 'once bitten, twice shy' variety. He doesn't take chances any more, because one of the times when he did, it got him bitten.
~*~
Three French Healers
There are many more researchers than there are specimens, which means that he has three who are assigned to him personally.
Healer Malfois comes in the morning. She is particular, fussy, and treats Remus as if he is something she has found on the end of her shoe.
Healer Laurent comes in the afternoon. She is familiar, insists that he call her 'Rina' (if she may call him 'Jean'), and shares her lunch with him (if he will share his with her).
Healer Durant comes in the evening. He is dark, speaks perfect English with a perfect accent, and reminds Remus of Sirius.
"It really is anonymous, isn't it?" Sirius says, watching Remus fill out the blanks on the parchment. "But they're going to think you're French," he adds, indicating where Remus has entered his name as 'Jean Deveraux' -- 'Deveraux' because it is his mother's surname, and 'Jean' because his very English middle name (John) will not match his very French surname. "They'll assign you to some French Healer, rather than to me."
"'Lupin' is French," he points out patiently. "And I have Muggle documents in the name of 'Jean Deveraux'," he adds, because that was what his mother had wanted to call him. In fact, it's what she had called him before his father had arranged the wizarding paperwork. And actually, it's what she still calls him today, although out of deference to their having moved to England when Remus was small, she'll say 'John' in heavily accented French, rather than 'Jean' (which amounts to much the same thing, anyway).
It's a cross-European study, but centered in Albania because this is where the duration of the eclipse is expected to be the longest and the most directly felt. He suspects that he will avoid notice if he presents himself as a Continental European, rather than as an uptight Englishman.
"You don't even have the accent any more!" Sirius says.
"If I want to, I can. But I spent a lot of time and effort learning to speak like a proper Englishman, so I don't sound like this any more," he says, imitating his mother's accent.
"Ooh," Sirius says, moving out from behind Remus' chair.
"What?"
"Say my name like that," Sirius says, and then swings himself onto Remus' lap.
~*~
Four fluid samples
Blood. Urine. Saliva. And...
"Nothing, still?" Healer Durant asks, as Remus emerges from the bathroom with an empty phial -- again. The Healer is wearing a smile that implies that he might be able to help Remus out.
For God's sake, you're just missing Sirius. It wouldn't be very Healer-ly of Durant to smile so over an inability to produce a semen sample four days in a row. "Perhaps next time," he says, handing back the phial.
He doesn't have any trouble getting started, but getting going, staying going, and finishing is all complicated by the fact that thinking about Sirius leads to worrying about why Sirius still hasn't arrived at the facility. And thinking about anybody else leads to guilt because Sirius isn't here.
And it isn't the easiest thing to think about someone else when for all I know, Sirius is --
"You will find it easier closer to Full, don't worry," Durant says, with an easy shrug and that same smile. "We only need it once. I can send Laurent instead. She might be more your type," he says, and this time there's no mistaking that it is that kind of smile. "And she's single, too."
"You aren't single," Sirius says. He's still in Remus' lap, and Remus is filling out the scrolls with one arm around Sirius, the other on his quill, and with Sirius steadying the parchment for him.
"I can't very well say I'm not."
"Yes, but this is all anonymous, and untraceable to individuals anyway," Sirius points out, starting to pout.
"It was just a reflex," he murmurs apologetically. Neither of them is particularly happy about it being a reflex, and their not being able to officially reveal that they're in a relationship with one another. They're not affianced the way Lily and James are, and they're not even understood to be 'living in sin' the way Peter and Marlene are -- they're just two boys who live together, and as far as most people are concerned, neither of them has 'met the right girl' yet.
"Remus, is this all just some elaborate scheme to ditch me so you can shag some French nurse?"
"Why would I need to ditch you to do that?" He yelps slightly when Sirius smacks him. "You'll be along as well, so it will be me and you and some French nurse -- I understand they're into that sort of thing over there."
"In Albania?"
"In France, you idiot."
"You'd better not be getting into anything over there."
"And what about getting into anyone?"
And Sirius kisses him, presumably so that he doesn't have to listen to anymore of Remus' nonsense.
~*~
Five days of pain
On the fifth day, Malfois is late. In fact, he doesn't see her at all until nearly lunchtime, at which point, it is Laurent who is also late.
Remus lets himself out of his room to find out what is happening. Laurent is occassionally five or ten minutes later, but he's been waiting nearly an hour. To say nothing of Malfois who hasn't turned up at all (which is odd for her, given how fussy and particular she is). Added to which, he wasn't able to sleep properly last night, out of worry about Sirius, and he wants to find out whether or not Sirius has arrived -- which he can't unless one of the Healers assigned to him arrives, and he's waited half the day already.
"Marina Laurent... She is somewhere about, if you wait five minutes. And Odette Malfois? She signed in this morning..." one of the administrators says, checking his chart. "I can take a message for her, if you wish." Something about this doesn't feel quite right. "Your name, please?"
He's about to give it, while at the same time feeling very strongly as though he shouldn't, when Healer Laurent appears. "Mr. Deveraux? What are you doing out?"
"Healer Malfois hasn't been," he says, as he follows her away from the front desk and back to his room, "and I wanted to ask about -- "
"How did you get out of your cell?"
"My..." For a moment, he thinks it's a flaw in the translating charm, but if it is, then this is the first time it's got this word wrong. "My cell?" he asks, realising that he's the one who's got it wrong.
Sirius... Sirius where ever you are please let it not be here...
"You have a wand? Of course you do," she mutters.
And before he can reach it, he's hit from behind by a Stupefy.
When he wakes up, he's in a cell proper, with his arms tied and a restraint at his ankle keeping him secured to his bed.
"You're the magic user," Laurent says when she sees that he's awake. "Not just a little bit here and there, but you're Dumbledore's little werewolf, aren't you? With N.E.W.T.s and all."
He tries to speak, but the words won't form.
Sirius.
"Well. Since you were never going to cooperate with us anyway, there's no need for me to say 'please' or 'thank you' anymore," she says, prising open his jaw and swabbing out a saliva sample.
Hearing tests. Blood samples. Sight tests. Urine samples. Pain tolerance tests. Semen samples. Allergic responses to silver, to wolfsbane, to a thousand and one other things...
"I've heard back from Prewett," Remus calls out, after sending the owl on its way.
"What does he say?"
"That it's worth doing, even if all I can do is report back on what the situation is like for werewolves in the rest of this part of the world."
"Do you think they might be recruiting?"
"The Order?"
"The Order as well."
"As well as...? Wait -- Are you asking me if I think the other side might be using this for recruitment?"
"Yes."
"I'm not stupid, Sirius, for fuck's sake. That's what I asked Prewett to investigate. I wouldn't fucking agree to go somewhere and reveal to strangers that I'm a werewolf without researching it, or -- "
"All right, all right. I'm sorry," Sirius says.
And if nothing else, he does at least sound contrite.
~*~
Six silver needles, Seven sprigs of wolfsbane, Eight bones a'breaking, Nine lacerations...
...and on the sixth day, and on the seventh day, and the eighth and the ninth day, they do it again.
For verification.
"Oi, Sniffles, if you're -- "
"Don't call me 'Sniffles', Remus. It's too close to the other thing," Sirius sniffles, 'the other thing' being 'Snivellus'.
"If you're going to keep doing that, you might sleep in the next room."
"You can't catch my cold!"
"No," he concedes, since the werewolf curse won't let a mere cold virus gain a foothold on Remus' body, "but I have very sensitive hearing, and all of your sniffling is going to keep me awake."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
~*~
Ten Healers missing
On the tenth day, he wakes up to Durant shaking him urgently (at least, he thinks it's the tenth day -- it's so hard to keep track).
"It is madness above the ground," Durant tells him. "At least ten Healers are missing, and that's only the ones we know of."
"I don't... What... ?" He wants to ask what Durants expects him to do about it, but his throat is so dry that he can't form the words.
"I can get a message out. I was told that you know people. Who can help." There is silence, while Durant looks nervously at the door and then back at Remus. "Who is your contact?"
Remus is about to give him Prewett's contact details, but then wonders why, if Durant can get a message out, he doesn't contact the authorities, or his own people, or whomever. He tries to keep the realisation from showing on his face, but Durant works out right away that Remus hasn't fallen for his act.
"Perhaps it's better that you go back to sleep," Durant says, every last trace of anxiety or fear gone and replaced only with cold menace, "if you can be of no further use to us."
"You are coming down with something," he says worriedly, as Sirius' last sneeze almost lifts him off the floor.
"I'll be -- " Sirius' voice cuts off, and then there's the sound of him loudly blowing his nose. "I'll be fine."
He waits outside the bathroom and frets. Sirius is the sort of person who walks the fine line between being fashion-model slender and unhealthily emaciated. If he's a little unwell, he looks disturbingly skeleton-like.
That aside, he's so used to Sirius looking after him once a month that he feels totally useless when it's Sirius who comes down with something. Wandering into Sirius' room, he looks around for one of the more basic texts so that he has some idea of what to do for someone with a cold. It's quite an involved search, since the only books that are readily to hand are the more advanced ones. Near the basic textbook, he finds the nurse's uniform Sirius sometimes wore for him when 'Nurse Black' came to look after Remus, the morning after Full.
"Hey, Sirius," he says, picking it up and going back to the bathroom with it held out in front of him, "do you think you'll feel better after a visit from Nurse Lupin?"
Sirius laughs and laughs, and then the barking laugh turns into a barking cough. Remus sets the uniform on the ground and goes into the bathroom to hold Sirius as Sirius bends back over the sink.
~*~
Eleven werewolves rescued
"They told me I could find you here."
Remus looks up -- still with his arms tied, and his ankle shackled -- to look into the human face of the werewolf that bit him when he was small. He can't make out the brown hair, or the silver back, but he'd recognise those eyes anywhere.
"Who are you?"
"You know who I am," the were-- the other werewolf says, coming closer. "I've come to get you out of here."
"You... Can you?" He doesn't know anything about this person. He's spent a lot of time thinking about the werewolf who bit him, but he never once expected to see him under these circumstances. "Have you... Have you come for me?"
"I'm not leaving any of mine behind."
"Any of..." Any fleeting feeling he has that this man has come to save him vanishes as he realises that this man has bitten and turned more than one person. Perhaps even more than one child, if Javier is right about what bit him.
"I wouldn't leave one of mine locked up like this during an eclipse," the other werewolf says, snapping the ankle restraint, but leaving Remus' arms tied.
"Oh," is all he can manage.
It occurs to him that under a lunar eclipse, werewolves can pass for human while being totally under the influence of the wolf. It's no doubt why the program is free and anonymous -- persuading werewolves to want to be locked up (and looked after, and sheltered, and fed) must be preferable to leaving them unregulated and to their own devices.
And that someone needs to alert the Order.
"Good," he says belatedly.
"Not the brightest, are you?" he asks, indicating the open door meaningfully.
"Nnn..." he manages, grinding his teeth to keep them from chattering. He isn't cut out for this. He wishes he had even just half of Sirius' or James' courage.
"All right, never mind. Help me find Lupin. That one finished his N.E.W.T.s right under Dumbledore's nose, and he's probably clever enough to teach the others," he says, fixing Remus with a shrewd look. God help me, he knows who I am. "Is he clever, do you think?" the other werewolf asks him, in a whisper that makes up in menace what it lacks in volume.
"Yes," he whispers back. "H-- I could teach."
"Oh, yes. Very clever. Go join the others outside. I've two more of my own to find."
Javier isn't with the others outside, and he isn't either of the two that the were-- Well. They're all werewolves. That the lead werewolf -- the one who bit him -- has rounded up.
He's relieved, but only for a moment, because now he needs to worry about what's going to happen to him.
They are eleven altogether (excluding their liberator), making a halting and stilted procession across the courtyard, and towards the main gate. Just beyond, he can see the pale, rose gold of dawn breaking in the distance.
But the gate faces south...
It isn't the dawn. It's the protective glow of the defensive charms woven through the clothes and armour worn by their rescuers, and it's only now that he fully understands why they're called 'Aurors'.
"I can't go in this condition. I might not infect any of the specimens, but I can't make any of the other researchers sick. Not when the whole thing will be over in a few weeks."
"You couldn't have got sick some other time?" he asks, spooning into bed behind Sirius and cuddling him close.
"I chose this week just to spite you," Sirius says. His eyes are closed, but he's smiling all the same.
"I'll have to find some nice, French nurse just to spite you," he retorts, nuzzling against Sirius' feverish cheek.
"No such thing," Sirius whispers back.
"Go to sleep, you idiot."
~*~
Twelve nights of peace
"I wasn't in league with them. I only joined them so that I could alert you, once I was able to, and tell you what they were planning," he explains patiently, for what must be the dozenth time.
"Yes, but you would say that, wouldn't you?" Doge huffs. "I'm not calling you a liar," -- even though he patently is -- "but I think it would be best if your returned with me to the MLE so that we can formally exonerate you."
"If he goes to the MLE for a formal anything, then he'll lose his anonymity through no fault of his own," Prewett snaps at Doge. "How can you possibly think he's one of Greyback's? His arms were still tied!"
"You were using him as bait. Isn't that right, Mr Prewett?" Dumbledore asks Prewett gravely.
Remus doesn't need to look at Sirius to know that Sirius is about to explode, and reaches out to grab Sirius' hand to keep him from saying anything.
"I didn't know Greyback was going to -- " Prewett starts to say, when Dumbledore silences him by raising a hand.
"No. But you knew that the other side might be trying to recruit the werewolves for Voldemort."
Sirius looks up sharply at this, and squeezes Remus' hand tightly.
"I had no proof, and no reason to suspect anything," Prewett says firmly.
"You needed me to gather it," Remus says. After all, he'd asked Prewett to look into whether or not the program was a front for Death Eater recruitment. "I don't have it, but I have some names. Marina Laurent, and Adonis Durant. I don't know if those are their real names, but I don't think the researchers had the same anonymity as the specimens. Those two at the very least." He's fairly sure that Malfois disappeared because she wasn't part of the plot. This bothers him. He didn't like her much, but she needn't have been made to disappear like that. "Who's Greyback?"
Dumbledore, Doge and Prewett all exchange considering glances, but it is Sirius who says, "They think that he's the person who bit you and turned you."
There's a knock at the door, and then Dearborn -- Sirius' supervisor and attending Healer -- lets himself into the small room they're using to interview Remus.
"I'll be out in a moment, Healer," Sirius says apologetically. Sirius is supposed to be helping Dearborn to treat the others -- researchers and specimens -- that they've rescued, but Dearborn waves it away.
"You treat this one for shock," Dearborn says, pointing to Remus. "I've managed to scrounge up four Trainees who're a lot further along than you are -- I can manage without you."
"And I should speak with them as well," Prewett says, giving Remus a nod goodbye, and indicating with a look that Remus will need to report in to him later.
Doge and Dumbledore leave together, and once the room is empty, Sirius side-along Apparates Remus back to their apartment.
"Well," he says, setting his scrip down next to the sofa, and starting towards the kitchen. "I could certainly do with a cup of -- "
"Hey," Sirius says, grabbing the sash of his robes and holding him back. "If you tell me you're all right, then I'll believe you. But if you're not, then you don't have to pretend anymore. Not for me."
He turns and looks at Sirius, and wonders to himself how he could ever have thought that Durant's smile was anything like Sirius'.
"I'm okay. You saw me healed up yourself," he says, trying not to picture the expression of pity and disgust on Sirius' face as he and Dearborn had worked to put Remus back together again. He's surprised he has the movement back in his fingers already.
"I don't mean that. I mean up here," Sirius says, stroking one hand along his cheek and winding his fingers through Remus' hair.
"I don't want to talk about it," he whispers, closing his eyes and leaning in towards Sirius. But he'll have to, for Prewett. And this Greyback -- whoever he is. He needs to find out more about him. "Do you still want me to make some tea?"
"Stop that. You don't have to pretend anymore, I said."
"Mmm..." he says, unable to push any words past the lump in his throat.
"Lie still," Sirius says, bringing him over to the sofa and pulling him down to sit next to Sirius, "and let me look after you."
"I've made you some soup," he says, bringing it to Sirius' room.
"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," Sirius says, somehow contriving to sound apologetic in spite of his evident sinus congestion.
"You're supposed to keep your fluid intake up," he says firmly, coming over to sit by Sirius' bedside. "You don't need to sit up," he says, conjuring a bendy straw and poking one end under the covers until Sirius snatches it up. He puts the other in the bowl and rests the bowl on his lap, breathing a sigh of relief as the level drops to indicate that Sirius is actually drinking the soup. "It's not too late for me to cancel," he says.
"There's no need. I can always join you when I'm better," Sirius says, struggling up right in spite of the straw. "It'll only be a few days, and then -- "
"Lie back down, stupid. You'll wear yourself out. Honestly, it'll be fine. I can look after myself."
"Mmm..."
"Here, lie still. And let me look after you."
Author: red_squared (Esinde Nayrall)
Recipient: oneturtlebug
Rating: R
Warnings: Implied violence.
Word Count: 5,000 (approx)
Summary: A consortium is looking for werewolves and researchers to participate in a study on the impact of a lunar eclipse on the transformation. Remus is a werewolf. Sirius is a Healer. Unfortunately, that may be as far as they get...
Author's notes: The request says that you're fond of 'plot, angst, darkfic, Sirius' mental state post-Azkaban, post-prank (THE prank) tension, Snape, both AU and Canon fics, banter,' so this fic is not particularly Christmas-y, but I hope you like it all the same! Thanks to the mods for running the fest, and an especially big thank you to mindabbles for her speedy beta work ♥
A werewolf in a study
On the first day, they show Remus to his room. It's larger than his room in the apartment he shares with Sirius, and it has its own bathroom. The sun shining in from the windows paints stripes of light across the neat, single bed. There are ruffles on the bed sheets, magazines on the night stand, and bars on the windows.
"We hope you'll be comfortable here," a medi-witch says, with one hand on her wand-hilt the whole time, and a smile that never reaches her eyes. "For your own safety, we ask that you don't leave your room without an escort."
"Thank you, you're very kind," he says, with a cheerful smile that does reach his eyes (he practises), "but I'm confused as to what you think I might need protection from?"
"Some of the other specimens are territorial," she says.
He doesn't bother to point out that they're werewolves, not wolves, and that in anycase, they will have only been here for less than a day. The only thing territorial about a werewolf is the disease itself. It means that almost every other virus or infection a person could possibly catch is rapidly sent packing by the werewolf curse.
" -- don't want any accidents, and while you can likely defend yourself, you aren't formally trained in spell work or defensive charms. We are, and we'll able to separate the two of you without any further injury."
For some reason, this gives him a mental image of her throwing a bucket of water over two dogs, and it takes him a little while to notice that she's wrapping up her welcome routine.
It's only after she's gone -- locking the door behind her, from the outside -- that he realises the significance of what she said about needing an escort at all times. The werewolves being studied in this facility are all under the age of thirty. Nearly all of them will have been bitten when they were children, which means that most of them will either never have started or never have completed formal magical schooling.
Most of us, he thinks to himself, as he unzips his Bottomless-Pit (guaranteed bottomless, or your money back) Scrip and turns it inside out so that it forms a coat-stand, with all of the robes he's hung up on the inside now neatly hanging around the outside, and airing out.
Reaching for his wand, he checks under the bed and then starts exploring his room to see if he can find anything worth being territorial over.
"They don't ask for names, or addresses, or anything like that," he tells Sirius.
"'Like that'?"
"Like where I'm registered, or even if I am. I suspect part of the reason is because they want some idea of how many werewolves there are in these parts, since not all of us are registered."
Sirius continues to look over the documents that Prewett has sent over. "Says here four weeks."
"Yes. They want to observe us during Full for an ordinary moon, and then again four weeks later during the lunar eclipse. What do you think?"
"Doesn't matter what I think," Sirius says. He gives a flippant shrug, but when he tries to hand the documents back to Remus, his fingers are shaking.
"It matters to me," he says, taking the documents only to set them on the table before reaching for Sirius' hand. "I won't do it if you don't think I should."
Sirius looks at him in surprise. "Do you really mean that?"
~*~
Two tragic tales
On the second day, he meets Javier. Javier is one of the other werewolves participating in the study, and has been allocated the room next to Remus'. Javier is seven, and was bitten only a few months ago.
This will be Javier's first lunar eclipse, Remus learns as they're chatting over dinner.
"You look very tired. I think you've had enough for today," one of the researchers says, as he takes Javier away.
Remus is puzzled by this. Javier and Remus haven't had a chance to do very much more than exchange names, and Javier hasn't had a chance to finish his meal. He doesn't waste too much time thinking about it, though. Werewolves aren't human, after all, and for some this means they don't need to be treated like people, even though werewolves are expected to behave like people.
After dinner, they're all escorted back to their rooms. Remus waits until it's quiet outside the door, and uses his wand to open the bars on the window so that he can climb out onto the ledge. He undoes the protective charms on Javier's window and then raps on it from the outisde until Javier opens it and sticks out his head.
"I thought you might be hungry," he says, holding up one of the twenty-thousand sweets Sirius insisted on packing for him.
"I'll eat later -- they'll bring me food again," Javier says, addressing his answer to the packet of sweets, rather than to Remus
"You've been here for a while?"
"Since I was bitten. I've been here longest." He must have, at that. As far as Remus is aware, the rest of them are only here for the eclipse. "They don't like me to talk to you others."
He's not sure what to say to that, so he lowers the packet and waits. When Javier doesn't say anything more, he asks, "Did they say why?"
"They want me to... Very Fie?"
"Verify?"
"Yes?" Javier says, waiting for Remus' nod before continuing. "They don't want me to copy."
"To... to copy?"
"To cheat. To use someone else's answers. They ask me 'Is your skin hot?' 'Are you hungry?' 'How much does this hurt?' I won't cheat! But... But they ask the same questions over and over. Do they... Do they keep me back, because I am always wrong?"
"I don't think you can give the wrong answer," he says, with a reassuring smile. "And they ask you so many times to make sure you give the same answer, so that they can verify your earlier responses. They want to know what it feels like for you. Nobody else can answer that for you, and nobody can tell you you're wrong."
"But I am wrong all of the time," Javier says in a miserable whisper. "Because I left the camp without my father -- and he forgot my hat! And it was at the river, and if I lost it, he would be angry. I only went to get it, and they said I shouldn't if it was dark, but it wasn't dark, and -- "
Remus listens to the garbled re-telling in silence, because the last thing the boy needs to hear right now is to slow down or to start again or to be clearer. In any case, it's relatively straightforward -- autumn camping trip with the family, shortening days, an earlier than average moon rise, and a little boy wandering out by himself. The rest is simply detail.
Once Javier is done and has calmed down a little, Remus explains that everybody's experience is different, so there are no right or wrong answers. That naturally leads on to his own telling of how he was bitten. When he gets to the part about the silver-backed, brown, rangy wolf that had tracked him down, Javier laughs.
"What is it?" he asks, smiling to indicate that it's all right, and that he's not offended.
"You were bitten by a skinny brown wolf, with a grey back?" Remus nods assent, and Javier frowns sternly. "But now you are copying me!"
"This study... Says here they need researchers as well as... As..."
"As well as 'specimens', Sirius. You can say it, I don't mind. It's been like this since I was first bitten," he says gently, remembering his very first lunar eclipse. The physical transformation doesn't actually occur, but the mental one does. In some ways, that's a lot worse. He much prefers to keep all of those lupine instincts and desires locked up tight within the wolf-form -- he doesn't want them in his own. "What is it?" he asks, when he sees Sirius frowning at him.
"Only that... You were so small when you were bitten. How can you know how much of who you are is because of the bite, and how much is who you would have been without it?"
It's something he's wondered himself, more than once. But it has nothing to do with his sense of smell, or his hearing, or his higher than average tolerance for pain. Rather, the changes are of the 'once bitten, twice shy' variety. He doesn't take chances any more, because one of the times when he did, it got him bitten.
~*~
Three French Healers
There are many more researchers than there are specimens, which means that he has three who are assigned to him personally.
Healer Malfois comes in the morning. She is particular, fussy, and treats Remus as if he is something she has found on the end of her shoe.
Healer Laurent comes in the afternoon. She is familiar, insists that he call her 'Rina' (if she may call him 'Jean'), and shares her lunch with him (if he will share his with her).
Healer Durant comes in the evening. He is dark, speaks perfect English with a perfect accent, and reminds Remus of Sirius.
"It really is anonymous, isn't it?" Sirius says, watching Remus fill out the blanks on the parchment. "But they're going to think you're French," he adds, indicating where Remus has entered his name as 'Jean Deveraux' -- 'Deveraux' because it is his mother's surname, and 'Jean' because his very English middle name (John) will not match his very French surname. "They'll assign you to some French Healer, rather than to me."
"'Lupin' is French," he points out patiently. "And I have Muggle documents in the name of 'Jean Deveraux'," he adds, because that was what his mother had wanted to call him. In fact, it's what she had called him before his father had arranged the wizarding paperwork. And actually, it's what she still calls him today, although out of deference to their having moved to England when Remus was small, she'll say 'John' in heavily accented French, rather than 'Jean' (which amounts to much the same thing, anyway).
It's a cross-European study, but centered in Albania because this is where the duration of the eclipse is expected to be the longest and the most directly felt. He suspects that he will avoid notice if he presents himself as a Continental European, rather than as an uptight Englishman.
"You don't even have the accent any more!" Sirius says.
"If I want to, I can. But I spent a lot of time and effort learning to speak like a proper Englishman, so I don't sound like this any more," he says, imitating his mother's accent.
"Ooh," Sirius says, moving out from behind Remus' chair.
"What?"
"Say my name like that," Sirius says, and then swings himself onto Remus' lap.
~*~
Four fluid samples
Blood. Urine. Saliva. And...
"Nothing, still?" Healer Durant asks, as Remus emerges from the bathroom with an empty phial -- again. The Healer is wearing a smile that implies that he might be able to help Remus out.
For God's sake, you're just missing Sirius. It wouldn't be very Healer-ly of Durant to smile so over an inability to produce a semen sample four days in a row. "Perhaps next time," he says, handing back the phial.
He doesn't have any trouble getting started, but getting going, staying going, and finishing is all complicated by the fact that thinking about Sirius leads to worrying about why Sirius still hasn't arrived at the facility. And thinking about anybody else leads to guilt because Sirius isn't here.
And it isn't the easiest thing to think about someone else when for all I know, Sirius is --
"You will find it easier closer to Full, don't worry," Durant says, with an easy shrug and that same smile. "We only need it once. I can send Laurent instead. She might be more your type," he says, and this time there's no mistaking that it is that kind of smile. "And she's single, too."
"You aren't single," Sirius says. He's still in Remus' lap, and Remus is filling out the scrolls with one arm around Sirius, the other on his quill, and with Sirius steadying the parchment for him.
"I can't very well say I'm not."
"Yes, but this is all anonymous, and untraceable to individuals anyway," Sirius points out, starting to pout.
"It was just a reflex," he murmurs apologetically. Neither of them is particularly happy about it being a reflex, and their not being able to officially reveal that they're in a relationship with one another. They're not affianced the way Lily and James are, and they're not even understood to be 'living in sin' the way Peter and Marlene are -- they're just two boys who live together, and as far as most people are concerned, neither of them has 'met the right girl' yet.
"Remus, is this all just some elaborate scheme to ditch me so you can shag some French nurse?"
"Why would I need to ditch you to do that?" He yelps slightly when Sirius smacks him. "You'll be along as well, so it will be me and you and some French nurse -- I understand they're into that sort of thing over there."
"In Albania?"
"In France, you idiot."
"You'd better not be getting into anything over there."
"And what about getting into anyone?"
And Sirius kisses him, presumably so that he doesn't have to listen to anymore of Remus' nonsense.
~*~
Five days of pain
On the fifth day, Malfois is late. In fact, he doesn't see her at all until nearly lunchtime, at which point, it is Laurent who is also late.
Remus lets himself out of his room to find out what is happening. Laurent is occassionally five or ten minutes later, but he's been waiting nearly an hour. To say nothing of Malfois who hasn't turned up at all (which is odd for her, given how fussy and particular she is). Added to which, he wasn't able to sleep properly last night, out of worry about Sirius, and he wants to find out whether or not Sirius has arrived -- which he can't unless one of the Healers assigned to him arrives, and he's waited half the day already.
"Marina Laurent... She is somewhere about, if you wait five minutes. And Odette Malfois? She signed in this morning..." one of the administrators says, checking his chart. "I can take a message for her, if you wish." Something about this doesn't feel quite right. "Your name, please?"
He's about to give it, while at the same time feeling very strongly as though he shouldn't, when Healer Laurent appears. "Mr. Deveraux? What are you doing out?"
"Healer Malfois hasn't been," he says, as he follows her away from the front desk and back to his room, "and I wanted to ask about -- "
"How did you get out of your cell?"
"My..." For a moment, he thinks it's a flaw in the translating charm, but if it is, then this is the first time it's got this word wrong. "My cell?" he asks, realising that he's the one who's got it wrong.
Sirius... Sirius where ever you are please let it not be here...
"You have a wand? Of course you do," she mutters.
And before he can reach it, he's hit from behind by a Stupefy.
When he wakes up, he's in a cell proper, with his arms tied and a restraint at his ankle keeping him secured to his bed.
"You're the magic user," Laurent says when she sees that he's awake. "Not just a little bit here and there, but you're Dumbledore's little werewolf, aren't you? With N.E.W.T.s and all."
He tries to speak, but the words won't form.
Sirius.
"Well. Since you were never going to cooperate with us anyway, there's no need for me to say 'please' or 'thank you' anymore," she says, prising open his jaw and swabbing out a saliva sample.
Hearing tests. Blood samples. Sight tests. Urine samples. Pain tolerance tests. Semen samples. Allergic responses to silver, to wolfsbane, to a thousand and one other things...
"I've heard back from Prewett," Remus calls out, after sending the owl on its way.
"What does he say?"
"That it's worth doing, even if all I can do is report back on what the situation is like for werewolves in the rest of this part of the world."
"Do you think they might be recruiting?"
"The Order?"
"The Order as well."
"As well as...? Wait -- Are you asking me if I think the other side might be using this for recruitment?"
"Yes."
"I'm not stupid, Sirius, for fuck's sake. That's what I asked Prewett to investigate. I wouldn't fucking agree to go somewhere and reveal to strangers that I'm a werewolf without researching it, or -- "
"All right, all right. I'm sorry," Sirius says.
And if nothing else, he does at least sound contrite.
~*~
Six silver needles, Seven sprigs of wolfsbane, Eight bones a'breaking, Nine lacerations...
...and on the sixth day, and on the seventh day, and the eighth and the ninth day, they do it again.
For verification.
"Oi, Sniffles, if you're -- "
"Don't call me 'Sniffles', Remus. It's too close to the other thing," Sirius sniffles, 'the other thing' being 'Snivellus'.
"If you're going to keep doing that, you might sleep in the next room."
"You can't catch my cold!"
"No," he concedes, since the werewolf curse won't let a mere cold virus gain a foothold on Remus' body, "but I have very sensitive hearing, and all of your sniffling is going to keep me awake."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
~*~
Ten Healers missing
On the tenth day, he wakes up to Durant shaking him urgently (at least, he thinks it's the tenth day -- it's so hard to keep track).
"It is madness above the ground," Durant tells him. "At least ten Healers are missing, and that's only the ones we know of."
"I don't... What... ?" He wants to ask what Durants expects him to do about it, but his throat is so dry that he can't form the words.
"I can get a message out. I was told that you know people. Who can help." There is silence, while Durant looks nervously at the door and then back at Remus. "Who is your contact?"
Remus is about to give him Prewett's contact details, but then wonders why, if Durant can get a message out, he doesn't contact the authorities, or his own people, or whomever. He tries to keep the realisation from showing on his face, but Durant works out right away that Remus hasn't fallen for his act.
"Perhaps it's better that you go back to sleep," Durant says, every last trace of anxiety or fear gone and replaced only with cold menace, "if you can be of no further use to us."
"You are coming down with something," he says worriedly, as Sirius' last sneeze almost lifts him off the floor.
"I'll be -- " Sirius' voice cuts off, and then there's the sound of him loudly blowing his nose. "I'll be fine."
He waits outside the bathroom and frets. Sirius is the sort of person who walks the fine line between being fashion-model slender and unhealthily emaciated. If he's a little unwell, he looks disturbingly skeleton-like.
That aside, he's so used to Sirius looking after him once a month that he feels totally useless when it's Sirius who comes down with something. Wandering into Sirius' room, he looks around for one of the more basic texts so that he has some idea of what to do for someone with a cold. It's quite an involved search, since the only books that are readily to hand are the more advanced ones. Near the basic textbook, he finds the nurse's uniform Sirius sometimes wore for him when 'Nurse Black' came to look after Remus, the morning after Full.
"Hey, Sirius," he says, picking it up and going back to the bathroom with it held out in front of him, "do you think you'll feel better after a visit from Nurse Lupin?"
Sirius laughs and laughs, and then the barking laugh turns into a barking cough. Remus sets the uniform on the ground and goes into the bathroom to hold Sirius as Sirius bends back over the sink.
~*~
Eleven werewolves rescued
"They told me I could find you here."
Remus looks up -- still with his arms tied, and his ankle shackled -- to look into the human face of the werewolf that bit him when he was small. He can't make out the brown hair, or the silver back, but he'd recognise those eyes anywhere.
"Who are you?"
"You know who I am," the were-- the other werewolf says, coming closer. "I've come to get you out of here."
"You... Can you?" He doesn't know anything about this person. He's spent a lot of time thinking about the werewolf who bit him, but he never once expected to see him under these circumstances. "Have you... Have you come for me?"
"I'm not leaving any of mine behind."
"Any of..." Any fleeting feeling he has that this man has come to save him vanishes as he realises that this man has bitten and turned more than one person. Perhaps even more than one child, if Javier is right about what bit him.
"I wouldn't leave one of mine locked up like this during an eclipse," the other werewolf says, snapping the ankle restraint, but leaving Remus' arms tied.
"Oh," is all he can manage.
It occurs to him that under a lunar eclipse, werewolves can pass for human while being totally under the influence of the wolf. It's no doubt why the program is free and anonymous -- persuading werewolves to want to be locked up (and looked after, and sheltered, and fed) must be preferable to leaving them unregulated and to their own devices.
And that someone needs to alert the Order.
"Good," he says belatedly.
"Not the brightest, are you?" he asks, indicating the open door meaningfully.
"Nnn..." he manages, grinding his teeth to keep them from chattering. He isn't cut out for this. He wishes he had even just half of Sirius' or James' courage.
"All right, never mind. Help me find Lupin. That one finished his N.E.W.T.s right under Dumbledore's nose, and he's probably clever enough to teach the others," he says, fixing Remus with a shrewd look. God help me, he knows who I am. "Is he clever, do you think?" the other werewolf asks him, in a whisper that makes up in menace what it lacks in volume.
"Yes," he whispers back. "H-- I could teach."
"Oh, yes. Very clever. Go join the others outside. I've two more of my own to find."
Javier isn't with the others outside, and he isn't either of the two that the were-- Well. They're all werewolves. That the lead werewolf -- the one who bit him -- has rounded up.
He's relieved, but only for a moment, because now he needs to worry about what's going to happen to him.
They are eleven altogether (excluding their liberator), making a halting and stilted procession across the courtyard, and towards the main gate. Just beyond, he can see the pale, rose gold of dawn breaking in the distance.
But the gate faces south...
It isn't the dawn. It's the protective glow of the defensive charms woven through the clothes and armour worn by their rescuers, and it's only now that he fully understands why they're called 'Aurors'.
"I can't go in this condition. I might not infect any of the specimens, but I can't make any of the other researchers sick. Not when the whole thing will be over in a few weeks."
"You couldn't have got sick some other time?" he asks, spooning into bed behind Sirius and cuddling him close.
"I chose this week just to spite you," Sirius says. His eyes are closed, but he's smiling all the same.
"I'll have to find some nice, French nurse just to spite you," he retorts, nuzzling against Sirius' feverish cheek.
"No such thing," Sirius whispers back.
"Go to sleep, you idiot."
~*~
Twelve nights of peace
"I wasn't in league with them. I only joined them so that I could alert you, once I was able to, and tell you what they were planning," he explains patiently, for what must be the dozenth time.
"Yes, but you would say that, wouldn't you?" Doge huffs. "I'm not calling you a liar," -- even though he patently is -- "but I think it would be best if your returned with me to the MLE so that we can formally exonerate you."
"If he goes to the MLE for a formal anything, then he'll lose his anonymity through no fault of his own," Prewett snaps at Doge. "How can you possibly think he's one of Greyback's? His arms were still tied!"
"You were using him as bait. Isn't that right, Mr Prewett?" Dumbledore asks Prewett gravely.
Remus doesn't need to look at Sirius to know that Sirius is about to explode, and reaches out to grab Sirius' hand to keep him from saying anything.
"I didn't know Greyback was going to -- " Prewett starts to say, when Dumbledore silences him by raising a hand.
"No. But you knew that the other side might be trying to recruit the werewolves for Voldemort."
Sirius looks up sharply at this, and squeezes Remus' hand tightly.
"I had no proof, and no reason to suspect anything," Prewett says firmly.
"You needed me to gather it," Remus says. After all, he'd asked Prewett to look into whether or not the program was a front for Death Eater recruitment. "I don't have it, but I have some names. Marina Laurent, and Adonis Durant. I don't know if those are their real names, but I don't think the researchers had the same anonymity as the specimens. Those two at the very least." He's fairly sure that Malfois disappeared because she wasn't part of the plot. This bothers him. He didn't like her much, but she needn't have been made to disappear like that. "Who's Greyback?"
Dumbledore, Doge and Prewett all exchange considering glances, but it is Sirius who says, "They think that he's the person who bit you and turned you."
There's a knock at the door, and then Dearborn -- Sirius' supervisor and attending Healer -- lets himself into the small room they're using to interview Remus.
"I'll be out in a moment, Healer," Sirius says apologetically. Sirius is supposed to be helping Dearborn to treat the others -- researchers and specimens -- that they've rescued, but Dearborn waves it away.
"You treat this one for shock," Dearborn says, pointing to Remus. "I've managed to scrounge up four Trainees who're a lot further along than you are -- I can manage without you."
"And I should speak with them as well," Prewett says, giving Remus a nod goodbye, and indicating with a look that Remus will need to report in to him later.
Doge and Dumbledore leave together, and once the room is empty, Sirius side-along Apparates Remus back to their apartment.
"Well," he says, setting his scrip down next to the sofa, and starting towards the kitchen. "I could certainly do with a cup of -- "
"Hey," Sirius says, grabbing the sash of his robes and holding him back. "If you tell me you're all right, then I'll believe you. But if you're not, then you don't have to pretend anymore. Not for me."
He turns and looks at Sirius, and wonders to himself how he could ever have thought that Durant's smile was anything like Sirius'.
"I'm okay. You saw me healed up yourself," he says, trying not to picture the expression of pity and disgust on Sirius' face as he and Dearborn had worked to put Remus back together again. He's surprised he has the movement back in his fingers already.
"I don't mean that. I mean up here," Sirius says, stroking one hand along his cheek and winding his fingers through Remus' hair.
"I don't want to talk about it," he whispers, closing his eyes and leaning in towards Sirius. But he'll have to, for Prewett. And this Greyback -- whoever he is. He needs to find out more about him. "Do you still want me to make some tea?"
"Stop that. You don't have to pretend anymore, I said."
"Mmm..." he says, unable to push any words past the lump in his throat.
"Lie still," Sirius says, bringing him over to the sofa and pulling him down to sit next to Sirius, "and let me look after you."
"I've made you some soup," he says, bringing it to Sirius' room.
"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," Sirius says, somehow contriving to sound apologetic in spite of his evident sinus congestion.
"You're supposed to keep your fluid intake up," he says firmly, coming over to sit by Sirius' bedside. "You don't need to sit up," he says, conjuring a bendy straw and poking one end under the covers until Sirius snatches it up. He puts the other in the bowl and rests the bowl on his lap, breathing a sigh of relief as the level drops to indicate that Sirius is actually drinking the soup. "It's not too late for me to cancel," he says.
"There's no need. I can always join you when I'm better," Sirius says, struggling up right in spite of the straw. "It'll only be a few days, and then -- "
"Lie back down, stupid. You'll wear yourself out. Honestly, it'll be fine. I can look after myself."
"Mmm..."
"Here, lie still. And let me look after you."