The Tameness Of A Wolf

The transformation from wolf to boy left Remus sprawled on the floor, weak and shaking. Echoes of white-hot pain still coursed through his body; his head throbbed unbearably, and sweat, blood, and tears mingled on his face. He was completely drained of energy, robbed of the ability to do anything other than lie there, reeling with pain. For several minutes he remained still, unable to focus his mind or his eyes.

Then a single thought pierced the haze of mind-numbing pain: he had to get the Portkey or he'd never make it to the hospital wing. Suddenly alert, he attempted to push himself up off the floor, but a jolt of fire shot through his left arm and he fell back, gasping. It was no good; he couldn't move. He'd have to wait until he'd recovered some of his strength, or until Madam Pomfrey realized that he hadn't returned and came to collect him.

He knew in some vague, far-off corner of his mind that he was in a rather bad situation, but he was so tired that he just couldn't summon the energy to worry about anything. He lay still on the floor, and eventually drifted off into merciful darkness.

~*~

He felt as though he'd only been asleep for a second when fierce, glaring light forced him awake again. He couldn't open his eyes, it was so bright. There were rapid footsteps, and someone knelt at his side. It must be Madam Pomfrey . . . she's come to get me . . .

He could hear a sharp intake of breath, and then she reached out and brushed his arm lightly. Her gentle touch brought another wave of pain, and a low moan escaped him.

"Remus - " A long pause. "Remus, I'm going to conjure up a stretcher to take you back to the castle where I can treat your wounds. Is that all right?" Remus made himself nod, fighting nausea and exhaustion. He was so tired . . . he just wanted to sleep and forget the pain . . .

He struggled to remain awake as Madam Pomfrey conjured a stretcher and settled him on it. Once he had lain down, however, he could not resist the lure of exhaustion, and he slid into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

~*~

Where am I? It was dark, and his arm hurt so badly, and he was completely disoriented.

Panic shot through Remus. Barely conscious, confused and afraid, he struggled to sit up, but the blankets were heavy, and they were weighing him down . . .

"Remus. Relax."

The voice was familiar; he couldn't quite place it, but he knew that it could be trusted. Suddenly drained of energy, he fell back onto the pillows and tried to make sense of the situation.

His entire body ached, although the fiery pain in his left arm had lessened somewhat. A throbbing headache made him glad that the light in the room was dim. His mouth was dry, and he realized with a shudder that it was tinged with the dull, coppery taste of blood - his own.

"Feeling calmer?"

Remus nodded gingerly. "W-where am I?" His voice was a hoarse rasp, strained from a night of wild screaming and howling.

"Just a moment." There was a brief rustling noise, and then a glass of cool, refreshing water was held to his lips. He drank it gratefully.

"Not too fast, you'll make yourself ill." Remus sighed but did not argue. She sounds exactly like my mum. It must be a woman thing. "You're in a private room in the hospital wing. You've been asleep here ever since I brought you back from the Shrieking Shack."

"How long ago was that?" Remus asked. I don't remember waking up at all, but it must've been at least a day, he reasoned. Otherwise there's no way I'd be feeling so alert.

"About a day and a half," Madam Pomfrey replied, confirming his suspicions. "How do you feel?"

Remus hesitated, reluctant to worry Madam Pomfrey. Nonsense, he scolded himself. She's a nurse - that's what she's here for, and if you don't tell her the truth it'll take you much longer to heal. "Mostly just tired and sore . . . but my arm really hurts," he added. Now that his mind was starting to clear, he was all too aware of the searing pain coursing through his forearm.

"Your left?" He nodded. "I thought so. It was torn apart from the elbow down - you must have had quite a night. Hold on a moment, I'll get you a potion to help with the pain."

Remus nodded and lay quietly, waiting, until Madam Pomfrey returned with a large glass and held it to his lips. He took a tiny sip and immediately gagged - it was strong and sour and tasted utterly horrible.

"Drink it, Remus," Madam Pomfrey said sternly, and he reluctantly downed the rest of the glass. "This ought to help," she added as he drank. "I've mixed in a healing potion - I'm not sure how well it will work, but hopefully you'll be able to resume your classes in a couple of days."

"What?!" Remus demanded. He sat up and abruptly pushed the glass away, ignoring the pain that pulsed through his body at the movement. "But - I can't miss that much school! I'll fall behind and -"

Madam Pomfrey placed a firm hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. "You can miss that much school, and you will if that's how long it takes for you to recover completely. I won't have you rushing off to your classes half-healed and showing up here again the next day, too ill to work. You've already proved that you can't be trusted to judge your own physical limitations after you've been injured," she added darkly.

Remus could feel his face going red. "If - if you mean the whole thing about the Portkey, I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I thought I would be able to do it, and . . . it was a foolish thing to do. I'm really sorry."

The nurse sighed. "I'm sorry, Remus. I should have realized from what your mother told me that you wouldn't be able to make it back to the castle on your own. If it seems as though I'm acting too strict, it's only because I'm worried. You could have bled to death, lying there on the floor. I've never seen injuries that bad before."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she dismissed it with a shake of her head. "Are you hungry?" she asked, returning to her usual professional manner.

Remus paused. He hadn't been feeling well when he first woke, but already the potion was starting to take effect and he thought that he might be able to eat something. He hadn't eaten since lunch two days before and now that he thought about it, he was starving.

"Yes, please."

"Excellent," Madam Pomfrey replied cheerfully. "I'll go have a talk with the house-elves and see if I can get some food for you - but I want you to rest while I'm gone, understand?"

Remus nodded, and she turned and left the room once more. I'm not very tired, he mused idly. Perhaps I'll just pretend that I've slept once she gets back . . . But no sooner had this thought crossed his mind than his mouth stretched in a wide yawn. Drowsily he rolled over, pulled the sheets over his head, and was asleep in seconds.

~*~

Although Remus did his best to recover quickly, spending most of the time sleeping and always cooperating whenever Madam Pomfrey insisted on giving him another foul-tasting potion or changing the bandages on his arm, the next two days seemed to last an eternity. Madam Pomfrey was reluctant to let him do any of his missed assignments - "You're ill, Remus. The hospital wing is not the place for schoolwork!" - and he couldn't wait to return to his classes.

On the third day, he woke to find that Madam Pomfrey was shaking his shoulder gently. "How do you feel?" she asked kindly, setting a tray on the bedside table. "I've gotten some breakfast for you, but you'll have to eat quickly if you're going to make it to your first class on time."

Immediately alert, Remus sat up. "My first class? You mean you're going to let me leave?"

"It all depends. I'll have to do a quick examination of course, and you may be a bit late - but if all goes well, I see no reason why you can't return to your classes today." She paused. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," Remus assured her. The tray on the bedside table was tantalizing, and his mouth was watering at the sight of it. Crisp bacon still sizzling from the skillet, perfectly scrambled eggs, lovely golden-brown toast, and sausage . . . real food at last, not like that disgusting broth that Madam Pomfrey had been feeding him for the past few days. "May I please have my breakfast now?"

"In a moment. Is your arm all right?" Madam Pomfrey pressed, reaching out to examine his heavily bandaged left forearm.

"Yes, it's fine," Remus persisted. The nurse ignored him and began to unwind the bandages, and he sighed. I'm never going to be able to eat at this rate . . .

After what seemed like ages, Madam Pomfrey's inspection of his arm was complete. "That's healed very nicely," she commented, and Remus' heart soared. "And everything else is all right? No headache, nothing else that's bothering you?"

"No, everything's all right - but can I please have my breakfast?"

His tone must have been a bit too impatient, because Madam Pomfrey laughed. "Of course." She reached out and placed the tray in front of him, and Remus began to devour the food.

He ate as quickly as he could; even so, he was running late for his classes by the time he finished. But he still wasn't allowed to leave. Once he'd dressed in his uniform and combed his hair, Madam Pomfrey insisted on doing yet another brief inspection. Finally she smiled and gave him a quick thumbs-up.

"You've healed very nicely, Remus - it looks as though you're ready to leave." She glanced at her watch. "Run along, now - you've just got a few minutes before your first class starts." Nodding, Remus thanked her and raced out of the hospital wing. At last he was free!

His first stop after leaving the hospital wing was Gryffindor Tower, to retrieve his schoolbooks and supplies. Once he'd accomplished this task, he glanced at his watch and did a double take. Five minutes! Five minutes to get to Transfiguration at the other end of the castle - and if I'm late, Professor McGonagall will murder me. Sighing, he shouldered his bookbag and began to sprint down the corridor.

~*~

Ten minutes later, face red and breath coming in gasps, Remus slid into his seat in the Transfiguration classroom. The classroom was filled with students, all chattering excitedly, and yet there was no sign of Professor McGonagall. As he rummaged in his bookbag for his homework, Remus thought vaguely that it was unusual for McGonagall to be late to class. Oh, well. She's only human - she must be late sometimes. She'll show up soon, I'm sure. Lucky, really - now I won't get detention for being late . . .

Just then a hand seized his shoulder, and turning around he saw Peter, eyes wide with excitement. "Remus! Where were you?"

"I was - ill," Remus said quickly. "You know, after what happened in Potions a few days ago - "

"Oh, yeah," Peter interrupted, brow creased with concern. "Are you feeling better now? Madam Pomfrey said you were really ill. I went up to the hospital wing to bring you your homework, but she wouldn't let me see you. You still look a bit pale," he added dubiously.

So that was how Madam Pomfrey had gotten his homework! Remus smiled. "Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better now. Thanks for bringing me my assignments - I was really worried about missing so many classes."

"It was no problem," Peter replied. He smiled briefly, but his face quickly grew serious again. "So you don't know about what just happened and everything?"

Remus shook his head, bewilderment overwhelming his relief at the change of subject. "No. Why?"

Peter's face fell. "You didn't see McGonagall and Snape and Sirius in the corridor, then?"

"No." Scanning the classroom, Remus saw that although all of the other Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years seemed to be in attendance, there were two empty seats where Sirius and Snape normally sat. "Where are they?"

In the seat behind Peter, James leaned forward, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Breakfast had just ended, and everyone was coming into class. McGonagall was at her desk, marking papers, when all of a sudden Sirius and Snape started arguing about something, and then Sirius jumped on Snape and started pummeling him. McGonagall was furious! She stormed over and dragged the two of them away from each other and started shouting at them. And then Sirius mumbled something, and she grabbed their arms and pulled them out of the room. I think she took them to Dumbledore's office or something."

Remus felt his heart sinking. Trust Sirius to get in another fight when we haven't even been in school for two weeks! he thought desperately. But why did he do it? Sirius has never had anything against Snape . . .

Yes, he does, Remus realized suddenly. He remembered how Sirius had behaved the day of the full moon, when he heard what Snape had done to him during Herbology. He was livid. He was ready to go out and murder Snape! I shouldn't have told him about what happened in Herbology - I should've known he'd try to get revenge . . .

"Do you know why they started fighting?" he asked, praying that the answer had nothing to do with him.

Peter shrugged. "No one's sure. They were standing off in a corner, kind of, and no one was paying attention to what they were saying until one of them started yelling. Rumor is that Snape started it, but . . " His voice trailed off.

Remus knew exactly what Peter was thinking - why would the normally reserved and aloof Snape have started a fight? Boisterous, quick-tempered Sirius seemed like a much more likely candidate. But why? The only answer that he could think of was that Sirius was seeking revenge for what Snape had done to Remus in Herbology.

Before Remus had any more of a chance to meditate on this, the classroom door swung open with a bang. Snape stalked in and took his seat, followed by McGonagall and Sirius. All three looked positively furious. McGonagall headed to the front of the classroom, while Sirius strode to his desk and collapsed in his seat.

Remus immediately turned to his friend and opened his mouth to ask what had happened, but closed it abruptly when he saw the anger that still flared in the boy's eyes. He'd ask later, once Sirius had calmed down. Sighing, he turned to face the front of the classroom and began to copy down what Professor McGonagall was writing on the board.

~*~

"Sirius, what happened?"

Four hours had passed and James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were sitting in the Great Hall eating their lunch. Sirius' enraged silence had continued throughout all of their morning classes. Finally, James found the nerve to ask the question that had been on everyone's mind since Transfiguration.

Sirius slammed down his fork, and his companions flinched. "That foul, stinking bastard!" he exclaimed furiously. "He just walked up to me, and out of the blue - " He broke off abruptly, face flushed and eyes dark with anger.

"What?" Peter prompted eagerly. "What did he say?"

Sirius shook his head, suddenly refusing to meet their eyes. "Nothing. Just forget it."

Normally Remus would have respected Sirius' wishes, but he needed to know why the fight had started. What could have caused such a reaction in Sirius, what would shame him so much that he'd refuse to tell his friends? It seemed unlikely . . . and yet he had to know.

"Sirius - you didn't go after Snape because of what he did to me in Herbology, did you?" he asked quietly.

Sirius shook his head. "No - although I've got to admit, I was tempted to." He sighed. It seemed that all the fight had gone out of him. "He just walked up to me," he repeated, "and out of the blue, he said, 'Always knew it was coming to you, Black. Everyone knows you're a disgrace to your family, but I never would have thought you'd stoop this low.'" His voice had taken on a bitter, mocking quality. "He called me a dirty, Muggle-loving Gryffindor bastard - and a few other things."

A tense silence fell over the foursome. Finally, Peter spoke. "A - Sirius, I don't mean to - I - what'd he mean, a disgrace to your family? I mean, what's it to him if you're a Gryffindor and he's a Slytherin?"

"He's not just any Gryffindor, Peter," James said quietly. "Sirius' family - well, they're . . . " His voice trailed off and he looked over at Sirius.

Sirius nodded dejectedly. "It's okay, you can tell him. Everyone else already knows anyway," he added sourly.

"Yeah, but it's just - Remus, you explain."

"Right." Sighing, Remus turned to the bemused Peter. "Peter, the Blacks - they're purebloods. Sirius' family have been wizards dating all the way back to the Dark Ages, and they're proud of it. They don't take kindly to Squibs, Muggles, or Muggle-born wizards - if your blood's not pure, you're not worth anything to them."

Nervously he glanced at Sirius. It felt strange to be sitting there insulting Sirius' family, but the other boy was nodding, a dangerous spark in his eyes. "That's right, Remus, go on. Tell the truth. They're prejudiced, biased, bigoted idiots who think they're better than everyone else because they've got pure, untainted blood. I'm fed up with it!" Sirius exclaimed suddenly, and began to rise.

Remus rested a hand on his friend's arm, and Sirius sat down and lowered his voice. "I'm fed up with it, and I have been for a long time. I'm sick of being related to them. Snape knows all about it - his mum's a pureblood too, with a rich husband, and their family used to come to my parents' parties all the time. He was a perfect little pureblood brat, and my parents wouldn't let me forget it. 'Why can't you be more like Severus? Why can't you be more like your brother Regulus, or your cousins Bellatrix and Narcissa? When will you learn to behave and act like a proper Black?'"

Peter cast a glance over at the Slytherin table, at Snape's greasy hair and patched robes. "If his mother was a pureblood, how did he - "

"Things changed," James said quietly. "He must've been seven or eight when his father was arrested. The Aurors got him - they accused him of being allied with the Dark Lord Grindelwald, way back in the Forties. The Snapes used to be a rich, respected family, but the scandal that followed ruined their reputation. And then Severus' mum remarried some bloke - completely unexpected, she'd always been a model pureblood - and . . . well, you don't remarry in pureblood families. And this fellow's blood wasn't pure, either - his great-grandmother was a Muggle, or something absurd like that. She was supposed to be a rich, noble, well-bred woman, carrying on bravely while her husband suffered in Azkaban, but she didn't want to do that. She remarried instead, her family disowned her, and . . . "

A silence spread over the table as all four boys contemplated this new revelation. Remus turned to face the Slytherin table, where Snape had finished eating and was reading a book, hair falling into his face, dark eyes intense. His mother was disowned . . . his father was allied with Grindelwald . . . who would've guessed? He always seemed so aloof, but he's not the kind of person that you'd look at twice. Not the kind of person whose parents would create huge scandals, or be allied with Dark wizards.

Well, maybe the Dark wizards bit. But nothing else.

Remus knew he should feel glad that the fight hadn't started because of him, but as the bell rang, he left the Great Hall with his friends feeling more depressed than he'd been in a long time.

~*~

Throughout the rest of the day, Snape and Sirius avoided each other in the hallways and in classes, shooting acidic glares at each other whenever their eyes met. James, Sirius and Peter did their best to keep the two boys apart, but it still seemed as though the day would never end. Finally dinner was over, and they hurried back to the Gryffindor common room, relieved to be free of Snape until the next day.

The common room wasn't as crowded as usual, which suited Remus fine. Word of the fight between Sirius and Snape had made the rounds of the school fairly quickly, and a sparsely populated common room simply meant that there were less people to stare at Sirius, whisper rumors to each other, or ask questions that were likely to upset the boy again. Although outbursts like the one at lunch were mercifully rare and a far cry from Sirius' usual carefree manner, he was still sensitive to comments about his family, and another careless question might just push him over the edge once more.

The four boys seized seats at a table near the fire. Almost immediately James began to work on an essay for Professor Tramer, frowning with concentration as his quill positively flew across the paper. Sirius rummaged in his bookbag for a moment before extracting a comic book and settling down to read, chair tilted back onto its rear legs. Peter, meanwhile, ran up to the dormitory and emerged a few minutes later, carrying his Muggle chess set. "Want to play, Remus?"

"All right," Remus agreed. He took a handful of pieces and began to set them on their assigned squares. He hadn't had a good game of chess in ages, and he felt that he deserved a reward for completing all of his homework in advance.

"Do you play often?" Peter asked.

"All the time," Remus replied truthfully. "My mother's amazing at it; she taught me to play when I was little, and we used to have a game after dinner every night. What about you?"

"I'm good at it, I suppose. I play a game with one of my parents or my sister every so often. I usually beat them though, especially Janice - she only knows a few different strategies, and she uses them over and over."

Remus laughed. "My father's a bit like that. He always gets stuck in the beginning because he's not quite sure what to do, and then by the time he knows how he wants to go about it, I've nearly beaten him." He nodded toward Peter's rows of white pieces, neatly lined up in front of him. "Speaking of beginnings, you should start . . . "

"Oh, right." Peter moved a pawn forward, and the game began.

As the game progressed, Remus decided that Peter's assessment of his own skill had been fairly accurate. He was a good player - he understood the rules of the game, and he seemed to have a clear idea of what he wanted to do and what was the best way to do it - but although he had a good grasp of the big picture, he often didn't notice little problems until it was too late, and Remus won many of his pieces this way.

"Checkmate," Remus declared finally, moving his rook forward a few squares.

Peter sighed and extended his hand. "Good game. Perhaps next time," he added as the two began to pick up the pieces and stow them in a small bag.

Abruptly Sirius sprang to his feet, eyes wide with alarm, and Remus nearly dropped the bishop that he was holding.

"Oh, no!" the tall boy moaned. "I forgot - I was supposed to go to Professor McGonagall's office for detention with Snape right after dinner!"

James laughed and glanced at his watch. "Quarter to eight. You'd better go, Sirius, or she'll have your head!"

"She'll have my head no matter what I do," Sirius muttered, but he turned and darted for the portrait hole.

"Late for detention?" came an amused voice from the other end of the common room, and the three remaining boys turned to see Lily Evans watching them. "Typical. I don't think McGonagall will be surprised at all. I mean, honestly - is Sirius trying to get on her bad side? As if trying to pound Severus into the ground for absolutely no reason wasn't bad enough - "

"Shut up, Evans," James said quickly. Lily's green eyes narrowed, and for a moment Remus thought she just might start shouting at James, but after a moment she sighed and turned back to the book that she was reading.

"Girls," James sighed. "I'm telling you, there's absolutely no point in trying to understand them . . . "

"Some of them are all right," Remus pointed out. "Like Rhea - she's nice enough. Or Catherine Burns, the Hufflepuff." But James merely rolled his eyes and continued to write.

~*~

The hour grew steadily later, and slowly the few Gryffindors in the common room got up and left. Finally only James, Peter, and Remus remained. James had completed all of his homework, and Peter and Remus had long since exhausted all possible topics of conversation, but no one moved. They had to wait for Sirius - partially because they couldn't let him return to a dark dormitory at some godforsaken hour of the night, but also because all of them had a burning desire to know what had happened during his detention with Snape.

The castle clock struck ten, and then eleven. Each boy drifted up to the dormitory, changed into his pajamas, and then drifted back downstairs to sit, waiting. Remus' eyelids were growing heavy, and the warmth of the fire was making him lightheaded. Maybe I can slip up to the dorm for a quick nap . . . come back down a bit later and meet Sirius when he comes back . . .

At exactly eleven-thirty the portrait hole banged open and Sirius flew into the room, collapsing into a chair next to James. To Remus' great surprise, he didn't appear to be agitated; in fact, his eyes were bright, his face was flushed, and a broad grin was spread across his face.

James yawned. "Sirius, why were you out so late? 'S nearly midnight. What were you doing?"

"If you're so tired, you shouldn't have waited up for me," Sirius retorted. "As for what I was doing, McGonagall had Snape and me polishing trophies - though she nearly reassigned me to scrubbing bedpans in the hospital wing because I was late. She wanted us to do every single thing in the trophy room without magic, which is why it took so long. But," and here he paused, eyes glittering, "when we finished and she gave us permission to go back to our common rooms, I managed to sneak up behind Snape in the hall and stick seven Dungbombs down the back of his robes! And then I had to run away, because I don't know how to do time delay charms . . . but I saw the look on his face when they went off and it was priceless!"

James and Peter were both laughing, but Remus felt a flicker of concern. "Isn't that dangerous, Sirius?"

Sirius' grin did not falter. "Well, we were out of McGonagall's earshot by then, so there was no way she could've heard. And he didn't catch me, so . . . "

"No - isn't it dangerous to put Dungbombs down the back of someone's robes? Wouldn't he be hurt when they detonated?" Remus pressed.

Sirius shook his head. "Nah. It's fine, Remus, don't worry. My brother - " His smile faded slightly, and he continued in a lower, slightly angry voice. "My brother did that to me once. But it didn't hurt or anything - I just smelled bad for weeks."

"And Snape already smells awful," Peter added, "so it's not like anyone will be able to tell that anything's happened. See, Remus? No harm done."

Remus allowed himself to smile. "I suppose he did have it coming to him."

"Exactly," James cut in. "Only I do wish I could've seen the look on his face," he finished ruefully.

Sirius sighed impatiently. "Well of course that's not the only thing I'm going to do! Seven Dungbombs is hardly revenge." He reached into the pocket of his robes and extracted a crumpled, ink-stained piece of parchment, which he held in the air as though it contained the secrets of the universe. "This is revenge. And I want you all to help me."

James sat up straight in his chair, grinning. "Sure!" he said immediately. Peter was quick to voice his assent, and after a moment's hesitation Remus nodded. Maybe it's not the nicest thing to do . . . but Snape was wrong to taunt Sirius about his family. It's only fair that Sirius should get some sort of revenge.

Sirius' face lit up. "I was thinking if we started now, we'd have everything ready by Potions on Wednesday." Without waiting for a reaction, he dropped into a chair between James and Remus and laid the piece of parchment flat on the table. "So, perhaps we could -"

"Hang on, mate," James cut in. "We're starting now?" Sirius nodded. "Merlin, Sirius, it's nearly midnight!"

Remus nodded. "Can't this wait until tomorrow? Professor Candace said something about a quiz tomorrow, and we'll all fail unless we get some sleep."

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but it turned into a yawn instead. Peter gave him a pointed look, and he sighed.

"All right, maybe I am tired," he admitted. "Tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," the others agreed, and they began to stumble up to the dormitory.