It had been two years since Poppy was last at Hogwarts, but the castle and its denizens didn't seem to have changed much. Of course, there were some new students, but they behaved in much the same way that first- and second-years always have and always will. The castle still sounded the same, still echoed with the same shouts and shrieks. The only change to the staffing since Poppy's seventh year, barring the comings and goings in the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, was the one that she was involved in. Poor old Madam O'Shea hadn't been quite the same after the last bout of Vanishing Sickness. Professor Dumbledore had offered her early retirement and, apparently, she had jumped at the chance.

Of course, Hogwarts couldn't be without a matron. When Poppy had seen the advertisement in the Prophet, she had jumped at the chance to return here. Even in her first term of training, her classmates had said that this position would suit her. Hippocrates Smethwyck in particular had been sure she was perfect for the job. She would never have admitted as much to him, but she thought he might just have been right.

While she had wanted very much to become a Healer of some sort, something about working in St Mungo's felt a bit off-putting. With so many patients in and out each day, it all seemed a bit impersonal. She would always be in a rush from one person to the next, never really having the chance to do and say all she would like to. Here, at Hogwarts, she would see the same children, the same young adults, for seven years at a time. She would get to know them, really be able to help them. In her domain, she would have control. She wouldn't be like Madam O'Shea -- impersonal and distant. She would care.

Thankfully, Professor Dumbledore (whom she should probably start calling Albus sometime soon) remembered her from her school days when she had submitted her application. “A Hufflepuff who could have been in Ravenclaw,� was how he had described her. She was still flattered to think of that. Her grades had always been good -- they couldn't have been anything but with her current career path -- but she had attributed that to hard work, not to any exceptional aptitude on her part. Evidently the Headmaster disagreed, as he'd given her the job.

She was delighted with the amount of trust he had placed in her. Once she had arrived and settled into her quarters (far more spacious than she would have expected for a matron, and very well ordered) he had called her up to his office. It wasn't a place she had ever had to visit during her school days. The round room was far more interesting than she had expected it to be. Professor Dumbledore was a very interesting man, but she had expected the Headmaster's office to be somewhat impersonal -- colder, somehow. Instead, she had found herself intrigued by the strange whirring devices placed around the room, by the wink of one old Headmaster as she entered the room, by the gorgeous phoenix, asleep on a silver perch behind the desk.

She had felt like she was back in school, sitting there opposite her new employer. A part of her had wondered why she wasn't wearing school robes. In fact, she had regressed far enough that she struggled to pay him full attention, so delighted was she by the office and the thought of her new position in the school. But then a word had leapt out at her and dragged her back down to earth.

“Werewolf.�

“I'm sorry?� she had responded.

“It's a terrible affair. His name is Remus Lupin and he will be one of our new students. He was bitten as a small child. I have made accommodations to allow him to attend the school -- I'm sure you noticed the new tree in the grounds -- but of course I will require your assistance in caring for him.�

And Poppy had said yes. Werewolves, in the past, had been just another monstrous creature to her, something else that could hurt her patients, something else that she would try to heal wounds from. She had never really thought of their human side before, the people who became the monsters. She had to now, though. This was an eleven-year-old boy, not a monster. An eleven-year-old who was going to be in her care. She was certain that he would need all the care he could get.

Now, today, Poppy was going to meet the poor boy. He had been Sorted into Gryffindor last night, and Professor Dumbledore had said he was settling in well. As well as could be expected, anyway. Poppy had stocked up on chocolate, just in case. There was nothing better for soothing scared children, for boosting worn spirits. She got up from her desk to check the cupboard once more; she was determined to be well prepared for the coming year, and especially for the little werewolf boy. Yes, there was doubtless enough chocolate there to last through the year. Her bottle of Pepper-Up Potion was full to the brim, and so was the vial of Sleeping Draught. She was as prepared as she knew how to be.

Before she had time to make any more checks, there was a knock on the office door. Yes, dinner would have finished by now. It was time.

“Come in,� she called, trying to keep her voice both firm and friendly. She was well aware that this would be the first of many knocks on her door and she wanted to get it right, to start on a good note.

Professor Dumbledore walked into the room, followed by a small, tired-looking boy. Of course it was him. Poppy had done her research. She knew that there would be a full moon in three days time.

Professor Dumbledore smiled benignly. “Poppy, I would like to introduce you to Remus Lupin. Remus, this is Madam Pomfrey, your matron.�

“Welcome to Hogwarts,� she said, smiling in the hope of putting her charge at ease. He only nodded his head very slightly in response.

Inclining his head, Professor Dumbledore gestured for Remus to come further into the room, rather than hovering in the doorway. “I believe we have a lot to discuss--� he looked at Poppy “--so you may as well sit down.�

Poppy, seeing this was her cue, conjured a chair and cushion for him. His eyes widened for a moment before, hesitantly, he sat down. Professor Dumbledore hadn't mentioned him being Muggle-born, Poppy thought, but he didn't seem used to seeing displays of magic like that. She wouldn't ask. The poor boy seemed nervous enough without her prying more than she had to.

Professor Dumbledore, with a casual flick of his wand, conjured a squashy armchair for himself and sat down.

“Now, I believe I have run through the plan for Sunday with both of you separately, but I would like to check the details with you both one last time; secrecy and safety are of the utmost importance, so we cannot afford any mistakes.� He paused, looking at both of them kindly. “Remus, at what time are you to arrive here?�

He swallowed, before saying, “Six o'clock, sir.�

Dumbledore nodded, then looked at Poppy and asked, “And you will then take him to..?�

“The Whomping Willow, Headmaster, where I will press a knob on the tree trunk to freeze its arms and allow us entrance to--�

Here, Professor Dumbledore raised a finger and gestured to Remus. “Please, continue, Mr Lupin.�

“A secret passageway, sir, to the Shrieking Shack.�

Professor Dumbledore smiled. “And you, Poppy, will then accompany him to the Shack, ensure that he is comfortable and, well before moon-rise, leave and secure the door behind you. No-one will be able to enter to harm Remus, and Remus will not be able to unintentionally harm anyone else.�

If anything, Remus grew even paler at that speech and Poppy was half-tempted to chastise the Headmaster for his insensitivity. However, she didn't want to overreach her position so early on in her tenure, and especially not in front of another newcomer. Instead, she pacified herself with the thought that Remus's first transformation away from home would always be scary, no matter how much they tried to reassure him. Perhaps it would have been better if Professor Dumbledore hadn't mentioned the lock quite so directly, but then again, why conceal the facts? A lock was a sad necessity.

Professor Dumbledore seemed to be aware of her displeasure -- something Poppy felt rather embarrassed about -- and of Remus's discomfort. With one of his characteristic gentle smiles, he dismissed Remus with a final reassuring remark and ushered him out of the office. When they were alone, he returned to his seat, resting his elbows on the armrests and steepling his fingers.

“You are displeased, Poppy.� It was a statement, not a question.

She looked away for a moment, trying to compose her thoughts. “Perhaps Remus would benefit from being treated with a little more delicacy, Professor.�

He inclined his head with a slight nod. “Perhaps you are right. However, I do not think he will benefit, in the long run, from having the necessities of his condition hidden from him. The boy should know what he faces; the rest of society will not cosset him.�

“All the more reason for us to give him a little more comfort, surely!� replied Poppy, unable to keep the emotion out of her voice. “Everyone needs to be treated gently once in a while, and I would like this office to be a place they can come to for that purpose.�

Professor Dumbledore didn't speak for a minute, and Poppy feared that she had already overstepped the mark. However, when he began again, she was reassured.

“Then a compromise: when Remus is in this office, we will treat him with delicacy and not confront things in too harsh a manner. When unpleasant things need to be said, they will be said in my office.�

“That seems fair, Professor,� she said, a touch of meekness in her voice.

He smiled at her, not seeming at all perturbed by her outburst. “You are no longer my pupil, Poppy. As a colleague, you have every right to address me by my given name.�

“As you wish, Albus.� The name felt foreign on her tongue, but she was pleased by this little slice of equality between them. It felt good to be given so much respect by the renowned wizard, especially as a twenty-year-old in her first job.

Perhaps aware that this had been a somewhat stressful conversation for his newest employee, Albus got up to leave. “If I can in any way assist with the transformation of this office into a sanctuary, you are always welcome in my office,� he said, before vanishing his chair, nodding a courteous goodbye, and silently shutting the door behind him.

Poppy was relieved to be alone again. She hadn't intended to snap at her Professor Dumbledore. However, there was something about this young boy that had really affected her. A Healer was supposed to care, to be supportive and kind, without ever getting too attached. They had to protect their own interests too. However, in this case, Poppy had a feeling that she was going to lose sight of her own interests very rapidly.

Remus was not happy. This was the second time this week that he'd found himself in the Hospital Wing. Saturday's visit had been routine; while full moons could never really be pleasant, they were made bearable by Madam Pomfrey's attentions and his friends' company, although he couldn't ever explain that to Madam Pomfrey. Being in the hospital wing around the time of the full moon was normal now. However, he hadn't been planning on giving up his Thursday evening to sit here.

It was all Sirius's fault. He was the one who had been so insistent on brewing a Shrinking Solution to use on Professor Slughorn's robes. Remus had tried to convince him that the potion was more effort than it was worth, that they could find a spell to do the exact same thing, but Sirius had been insistent that the prank would be even better if they could use the Potions Master's lessons against him. Lessons from their third year, Remus had pointed out -- hardly a very effective way of getting back at him. Sirius had just said that meant there was less chance of it going wrong. Remus winced in hindsight. If Regulus hadn't recently been inducted into the Slug Club, Sirius would never even have considered targeting Slughorn.

Of course, James and Sirius had been somewhat reckless in their procurement of the ingredients. They hadn't got quite enough daisy roots, which apparently was very problematic. The potion had reacted violently when they'd added the leech juice, and Peter had been landed up here. It was always Peter where potions were concerned. He was the Marauder with the most instinct for practical potions, so he was usually the one closest to the cauldron when his friends' mistakes caused a minor disaster. Remus felt rather guilty about this, although admittedly, Sirius and James were more often the root of their problems. Which brought him back to the blasted daisy roots.

With a sigh, Remus got up from his chair at Peter's bedside; he needed to stretch his legs. Having decided that the Hospital Wing on a Thursday wasn't a fun place to be, James and Sirius had abandoned him to keep watch about half an hour ago. He'd attempted some Transfiguration revision to pass the time, but it was hardly gripping material. Defence Against the Dark Arts would be far more entertaining, but that was the exam he was most confident in. If only Peter was awake to distract him; sadly, Madam Pomfrey had deemed a sleeping draught necessary to his speedy recovery.

Just as he thought that, the omnipresent matron appeared from her office. Remus smiled involuntarily. There was something about her that always did have that effect on him. She looked to be heading towards him, so Remus took a few steps forward to meet her half way. She seemed to be in a good mood, despite the stupidity of Peter's injuries.

“Remus,� she smiled, “it's good to see you in here with a bit more colour in your cheeks. I rarely see you at this phase of the moon.�

Remus felt himself tense up at such a blatant reference to his condition, but glancing around, he saw that the Hospital Wing was virtually deserted. No-one really suffered from the flu in the summer, and apparently there hadn't been many duels of late. He could relax.

Evidently, Madam Pomfrey noticed his discomfort. “It's okay, Remus. I would never act recklessly towards your secret. A matron always knows exactly who is under her care.�

“It's just a pity that your one patient today is here because of such a stupid injury,� said Remus, attempting flippancy.

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips slightly. “I know you and your friends. I doubt it was actually a gone-off hair-growth potion that caused those boils. I may not have been matron here for many years, but I have already stopped expecting to hear the real causes of the injuries I treat.�

Remus felt his ears go red. “I, um... I mean we... I don't know what,� he mumbled, his voice fading into inaudibility.

Madam Pomfrey smiled sweetly. “Oh, I wouldn't expect you have any idea what I was talking about. A Marauder never gives away his trade secrets, yes?�

Remus couldn't believe his ears. “A Marauder? How did you know?�

Madam Pomfrey's smile grew a little more secretive. “One of the first things you notice as a Healer is that certain patients tend to talk in their sleep once they've been given a sleeping potion. It is a mild side effect of the magic and completely unpreventable.�

“But also rather useful for someone working in a school,� Remus concluded, torn between intrigue at the potion's effect and embarrassment. He had taken plenty of sleeping potions in the past. “So, um, do I..?�

“Say much?� Madam Pomfrey finished. “No, especially as I rarely have to give you sleeping potions nowadays.�

Remus felt himself flushing once more, but tried very hard to disguise his discomfort. He didn't want her to guess at the extent of the secrets he and his friends were keeping. She could never find out exactly why he no longer needed sleeping potions.“It's rather a relief.�

“Especially given what I've just told you, I suppose,� said Madam Pomfrey, raising her eyebrows. To Remus's relief, she didn't dwell on the improvements in his condition. “I have overheard very little from you, but I have occasionally gleaned an interesting snippet.�

“About what?� Remus asked, trying not to look to nervous.

“Mainly the exploits of you and your friends. No real details, don't you worry, but things that as a member of staff, I might not otherwise hear.�

That notion took Remus by surprise. Sometimes, he found it oddly easy to forget that Madam Pomfrey wasn't a student, despite how old she must be. How old was she? He didn't dare ask. “So listening in on people as they sleep is effectively your way of keeping up with student gossip,� Remus said wryly.

Madam Pomfrey laughed out loud at this. “Effectively,� she admitted, “but unless you're offering to share the latest with me, I will simply have to continue.�

Remus found that thought rather amusing. He wasn't normally that interested in tales of who was going to Hogsmeade with whom, but he could actually imagine that discussing this stuff with the matron could be rather fun. She would be delighted by James's current crush, Remus knew, and s Sirius too would give them plenty to talk about. She might have a steely exterior at times -- he had even heard her tell Professor Dumbledore off when he was imposing on one of her patients -- but she was also very good company.

“I won't make any promises,� he said, “but then again, I won't say no.�

With that, a burst of very recognisable laughter came from the door to the Hospital Wing. Suppressing a groan, Remus looked over his shoulder and saw, just as he had expected, James and Sirius practically doubled over in the doorway.

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes. “I think I should leave the three of you to it,� she said, before turning away and heading for her office.

Once he was sure that the door had shut firmly behind her (although he suspected she would still be listening in), Remus turned back to his friends, eyebrows raised.

“What's the outburst about?� he asked.

“We knew it,� Sirius wheezed in between gasps.

“Knew..?� said Remus, a note of danger in his voice.

“That was--� James started, before descending back into laughter.

“Remus Lupin and Poppy Pomfrey: you'd make a fabulous couple.�

Finally Remus understood. Without quite knowing why -- after all, Sirius's suggestion was nonsense, the sort of thing he'd normally laugh off in an instant -- he felt a flush creep up his neck.

“We heard you. 'I wouldn't say no',� James teased. “Who would, with eyes so blue and skin so fair?�

This sent Sirius into paroxysms of mirth once more, and it only took a moment for James to succumb too.

Remus was very tempted to huff dramatically as he walked back towards Peter's bed, but he decided not to give them the satisfaction. Instead, he just sat down next to his still-sleeping friend and waited.

It didn't take long before they followed.

“Look,� Sirius began, “I'm sorry we left you alone with Peter for so long.�

He and James shared a look.

“Or rather, we were sorry to have left you,� James continued, “but now we see that you'd rather have had some time alone with your lovely Poppy.�

This, Remus realised, wasn't going to die down for quite some months.

Poppy was determined that tonight, she would make the beds with a smile. It was a chore she always did by hand -- she'd yet to find a spell that left the corners adequately crisp -- but not one she ever relished. However, this evening--this evening--she was determined that she would smile. The light of the setting sun fell through the windows, casting pretty reflections through her blue glass vase; the air smelt of summer and the last days of the year and approaching freedom; there was a ring on her finger.

Marriage was something inevitable for Poppy. It was drummed into the heads of all little pure-blood girls; you will take your NEWTs, leave school, and find a man to pay for your high society lifestyle. Poppy had never been so keen on that life, but she hadn't seen another path. Careers advice in her fifth year had changed that. Medicine had been an enticing prospect, and she had enrolled in the training course as soon as she left school. Her parents hadn't objected too strongly; they had seen it as the lesser of a set of perceived evils, career-wise, and chosen to see it as a phase that she would grow out of.

They were pleased that, at long last, Poppy was engaged. And it could be much, much worse. Poppy had been friends with Hippocrates Smethwyck for many years. He was a good man, and they got on well. However, Poppy knew, in the back of her mind, that marriage wasn't supposed to be about friendship, or at least, not just friendship. For Hippocrates, it wouldn't be. She could read him well; she knew that their feelings were not equal. She had accepted his proposal anyway. It would make him happy, make her parents happy, and it wouldn't make her significantly unhappy. She wouldn't let it.

There was only one thing that she would let herself feel a little sad about today, and that was the moon. Tonight, it would be full. In a selfish way, she liked full moon nights. Remus Lupin was the first student she had met while working at Hogwarts, and he had grown to be one of her favourites, if not her actual favourite. She rarely got to see him, however, because, lycanthropy aside, he was generally healthy. His friends made fairly regular trips to the hospital wing as as result of their pranks, but they weren't such good company as Remus.

However, the selfish part of her was one she suppressed wherever possible, so really, full moon nights were a thing to dread. She could only imagine what Remus went through. Thankfully, in recent years, he had improved significantly. When she collected him in the mornings, he was far less battered and bruised than he used to be in his early days at Hogwarts. Her stocks of bruise-healing pastes and Essence of Dittany were never dented quite so badly by the full moon nowadays.

Looking at the clock hanging to her left, she saw that it was only a few minutes to seven. Remus would doubtless arrive promptly; he always did. Poppy tucked the last corner of the sheet into the last bed in the room, smoothed it down once more and retired to her office to wait. Just as she sat down at her desk, she heard a brief knock at the outer door, followed by the creak of the hinges. She really should get Argus to see to that.

Smiling, Poppy returned to the main body of her hospital wing. Remus stood, as he always did, next to the door, waiting for her. However, something about him was different this month. Over the last few years, he had learnt to be relaxed about his transformations; Poppy thought that was a large part of why his injuries had been lessened so much. This evening was a return to the old ways. Remus looked grey. He seemed careworn and tired: stressed. It worried Poppy the instant she saw him. As she approached him, she saw the details. His hair was messy, like he'd been doing James Potter's old trick of running his hands through it. His clothes, too, weren't sitting right, as if he'd lost weight in the month since she last saw him. He looked far older than his eighteen years.

He nodded at her in greeting.

“Remus,� she began, but hesitated. Would questioning him really help? She couldn't say nothing. “Is something wrong?�

He closed his eyes wearily, avoiding her gaze. “It's just exams, Madam Pomfrey.�

“Just exams? You didn't seem this stressed about your OWLs.�

“OWLs were easier, less important. After OWLs, I still had another two years of school left.�

And then Poppy understood. She could have kicked herself for not seeing it from the start, for losing track of the remaining weeks.

“You don't want to leave -- of course you don't, not when...� She trailed off again. He knew better than she did what his life outside of Hogwarts was going to be like. Unless he raised the subject, she wouldn't force him to discuss it. However well he did in these exams -- and she didn't doubt he would achieve a lot -- he would never be given the opportunities he merited. It wasn't fair, and now she quite understood why he seemed stressed. It must have been looming over him for months, and now it was here.

“This is my last full moon at Hogwarts,� he said quietly. “This is the last one, and then...�

He too struggled to finish his sentence.

“Well, we can't delay much longer,� Poppy said with a sigh. “The moon won't wait for our conversation.�

Remus nodded and, holding the door open, gestured for her to lead the way.

They walked out of the castle and into the grounds in silence. The sky was still light, but the moon would rise soon, Poppy knew. She kept a moon chart pinned up in her office, and had done since the first time she had made this trip with Remus. Her heart went out to him each time she looked at it. She went through the familiar motions, freezing the tree, following Remus through the dank, cramped tunnel and into the old house.

Once there, she would usually have left after only a few, forcedly cheerful words, but tonight, she refused to abandon him so quickly. He stood by the battered bedstead, watching her, expecting her to turn and leave, she assumed. She didn't.

“You know, I'll almost miss these walks,� she said, trying to steady her voice. “Your company has always been very enjoyable, even if the context is unfortunate, to say the least.�

He smiled wryly--the first time he had smiled this evening, Poppy noted--and inclined his head. “And I'll miss your company too. The routine has made this all more bearable.�

He paused, as if expecting her to respond, but when she didn't, couldn't, he continued.

“I, um, expect tonight will be rough. I haven't felt this bad about it for a few years now.�

Poppy felt her heart sink. That wasn't the note she wanted Remus to leave the school on, for she was sure he wouldn't say this without reason.

“I-- I'll be prepared. Thank you for warning me.�

Remus let out a short, hollow laugh. “It's not that hard to predict, really.�

Unsure quite what he meant, Poppy let it drop. There was a pause. “Well, I suppose I should leave,� she said.

“You should,� he said resignedly.

She hesitated. “It will be okay, Remus. I'll do all that I can to make sure of that.�

Once more, he nodded at her, seemingly lost for words.

Poppy, too, found herself at a loss. She wanted so desperately to reassure him, both about tonight and all of the full moons to come, but she couldn't pull hope from nowhere. She couldn't lie to him. He already realised the truth of his future. Perhaps he painted it too bleakly for his own good, but she didn't want to raise his expectations, even if she could.

With one last, soft smile, Poppy turned away and walked alone out of the Shrieking Shack for the last time.

***

A soft hand on his brow; a gentle force lifting him from the floor onto a cotton stretcher; a frown watching him from the depths of the wandlight; stars fading behind the rising sun; sudden stillness in the air and the smell of Hogwarts: Remus could recall no more about his journey back to the hospital wing. All he knew now was that he ached despite the magic working on him. The crisp cotton sheets felt good. Remus drifted away from consciousness once more.



The familiar, frowning face had returned once more. It made him feel a little better to see it. Remus blinked, focused, recognised: Madam Pomfrey. The thought, the name in his mind, was almost as comforting as her presence above him. He saw her recognise his recognition and smile at him. Then, he saw no more.



On his third return to consciousness, Remus found himself a little less groggy. Opening his eyes, he saw that the room was lighter now and his head was clearer. And there was a weight on the bed next to him. He opened his eyes fully to find Madam Pomfrey looking down at him. Not standing over him as usual, a distant-seeming presence: sitting next to him, her hands folded in her lap. But...

“A ring?� Remus found himself saying, although his voice was reluctant to be heard.

Madam Pomfrey blinked and glanced away for a second. Then, meeting his eye, she swallowed.

“Yes, a ring.�

Remus felt slightly abashed. He hadn't intended to be so blunt. But she continued before he could apologise.

“As of Saturday afternoon, I am engaged to be married, Remus,� she said, her voice formal and stiff.

“Oh.�

Remus didn't know what to make of this. His thoughts were hazier than he had realised, because he could have sworn he felt something sink in his chest -- a strange reaction to good news. Pulling himself together, he forced a smile and took a deep breath, for the first time noticing Madam Pomfrey's fragrance -- something sweet, but not sickly, calming and enticing. He suppressed the thought.

“Um, congratulations,� he managed, feeling guilty about his lack of enthusiasm. If this was going to be the last time he saw Madam Pomfrey, he really should do better, despite the sore head.

She smiled, and he could have sworn she looked almost sad.

“Thank you,� she said, simply.

There was a pause.

“I gave you something to help you sleep this morning, so if you feel a bit--�

“Off?� Remus suggested, not knowing how else to explain it.

“Yes, 'off' would explain it adequately,� she said. “The potion could be part of the reason.�

“Right.� The word came out more tersely than Remus had expected it to. “Sorry, I don't mean-- I just... I don't feel myself. It's not you.�

“I know,� replied Madam Pomfrey. “You've had a rough night and I expect you've still got a lot on your mind.� She paused. “I should let you rest.�

“No!� The word had escaped his mouth before Remus had really registered the strength of his need for company. He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts right now. His friends were still in their Transfiguration exam -- the exam he would have been sitting now if the timing had been better -- although he could hardly explain to Madam Pomfrey that their absence was the real reason for his rough night. As he couldn't have them, he found himself clinging to the one friend who was here. Because Madam Pomfrey did feel like a friend, strange as that might seem. The thought had whirled through his head so fast that he almost missed it. It was true though; Madam Pomfrey was a friend.

She blinked hard, surprised at his outburst. “I-- okay, I'll stay a little longer, on the condition that you rest as soon as I leave. I can give you more of the draught, if it will help.�

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,� Remus said, contrite, “but I'd rather not. I just...�

“You don't want to be alone,� she concluded.

“No.�

“But where are your friends? The rest of your infamous quartet?� she said, the lighter tone coming as a relief to Remus.

“A Transfiguration exam,� Remus explained.

“Surely you should be sitting it too.�

“Yes, but the examiners have made an exception for me. I'll take it tomorrow morning, at the same time as the Divination paper.�

“I hope no one notices anything amiss,� Madam Pomfrey smiled.

“I don't suppose I'm the usual type to sit a Divination NEWT,� Remus said, half laughing. “There's no need to worry. I'll be taking the exam in a separate room; no one will know.�

“I don't suppose anyone but your fellow Marauders will be paying enough attention to realise, not when they've all got their own exams to worry about."

That was a relieving thought for Remus, and his face must have shown it.

“Well, you seem to have cheered up now. I really must see to the rest of the ward, and rest is even more important for you than I realised, what with an exam tomorrow morning.�

With that, Madam Pomfrey got up from his bed and left, muttering about Albus and exam timetables as she went.

Remus was surprised and pleased by how well Madam Pomfrey had distracted him. That was a particular talent of Sirius's and he hadn't expected to find in anyone else. He had barely admitted to himself that she was a friend, and yet how could she be anything but? She had to be a decade older than him, and she was technically a teacher, but he was comfortable in her company. Barring the strange feelings brought about by her engagement, at least. But Remus wouldn't think about that.

He had too many other things to worry about as he came to leave Hogwarts.

Albus had warned Poppy that there could be trouble tonight -- at the time, she had been unsure whether it was his mysterious sixth sense at work or whether he intended to instigate it -- but she hadn't expected it to be this bad. Not just one injured fighter but four had been brought into the Hospital Wing.

Remus had been brought into the Hospital Wing.

She hadn't seen him since his last full moon at Hogwarts. Once she had deemed him well enough to leave, he had done just that: left with hardly a word. And she hadn't seen him since. With the majority of her students, that was completely normal. Why would they return to the castle, and if they did, what would prompt them to visit the Hospital Wing? However, she had hoped for something else with Remus. He had never been a normal pupil, and not just because of his lycanthropy. He was a friend, or as close to one as a pupil could ever be. She had missed him.

And now, at last, he was here again, but in all the wrong circumstances. She had known that he was in Albus's Order, known that he and his friends must be putting themselves in danger, but until now, she hadn't had first-hand evidence of that. She had never before had to bandage a wound caused by spell damage with Remus, never before seen him unconscious from a pack of Stunners. That wasn't comparable to the routine suffering of his lycanthropy; it was heartbreaking.

Here he was, though, lying between the sheets that she had kept so meticulously neat in preparation. On the neighbouring beds, the Prewett brothers and Marlene McKinnon were also unconscious. Of course Poppy was worried about them too -- she knew the Prewett family, and Marlene had been a pupil here not so long ago -- but they weren't Remus. It was very unprofessional of her, she knew. Her thoughts shouldn't dwell on a patient to that degree.

In a way, a selfish way that she disliked greatly, she welcomed the distraction. Of late, she had spent far too much of her time dwelling on things she would much rather forget. Her engagement to Hippocrates had been ill-advised; rejecting him instantly would have been far less cruel than the drawn-out heartbreak she had subjected him to over the past year and a bit. She felt guilty, but that marriage would not have been a happy one. They hardly ever saw each other, due to their respective careers, and she could never have brought herself to leave her position at Hogwarts, not while there were still students in need of her help. Students, and Remus.

Poppy sat down on the edge of his bed, folding her hands in her lap. There was a perfectly good chair next to it, but that didn't feel right. The distance wasn't right with Remus. And with so many Order members wandering around the castle, wanting to check on their friends and needing to speak to Albus, she was sure someone else would want it. Tilting her head to one side, she observed him for a moment. He was still a young man, most definitely, but he didn't seem it. If you looked closely enough, there were odd specks of grey in his hair, and his face had grown even more weary in the eighteen months he had been away from Hogwarts.

He stirred. Poppy was sure she had seen it. He was waking up. His breathing was changing, his eyelids fluttering slightly. And there it was; his eyes opened, slowly, hesitantly, but there was recognition in them.

“Hello, Remus,� Poppy breathed.

He blinked heavily. “Madam Pomfrey,� he said indistinctly.

“I... Please, call me Poppy,� she said.

Through the grogginess, she thought he looked rather surprised, but a trace of a smile was playing around his lips.

For a minute, neither of them spoke.

Eventually, a thought seemed to come to Remus. “Your ring--it's gone,� he said.

Poppy looked down at her lap, where her hands rested. She had sent the ring back to Hippocrates with a school owl only a few days ago, and now, there was no way of telling that it had ever been there. She was surprised that Remus had noticed. “Yes, I... Well, I terminated the engagement. In this job, other relationships have to take a back seat.�

“Oh, um, I'm sorry,� he mumbled, looking bashful and not altogether sorry at all.

Poppy couldn't help but smile at him. “No, it's quite all right. You're allowed to know, and really, I think I will be better off now.�

He nodded slightly, and smiled. “I hope so.�

“I'm certain of it. However, the most important thing is making sure that you get better. My romantic entanglements can take a back seat. Now, I really must leave you to sleep.�

She half expected him to protest, as he had on his last visit here--the occasion was strangely fresh in her mind--but his eyelids were drooping. Instead, he just nodded slightly, his face returning to blankness. Leaving him be was the best thing she could do.

***

Remus knew that smell -- sweet and gentle and lovely. It was the first thing he noticed as he drifted into consciousness. He had smelt it not too long ago, but it was also something that felt innately familiar, that he might as well have known forever. As he opened his eyes, it clicked into place in his head.

“Madam Pomfrey,� he murmured.

The mattress shifted next to him, and he he saw her getting up hastily, as if she hadn't meant him to see her there again.

“I didn't think you were about to wake up,� she said, her cheeks pinkening slightly.

“It's okay,� he said. “I don't mind you sitting here.� And he didn't. After the sort of night he had just had--with the images of spell flashes and falling bodies that were seared onto his mind--he would normally have wanted to be alone. Perhaps it was that smell, but somehow, he found that Madam Pomfrey's company was actually better than solitude. As she still looked hesitant, and he really didn't want her to go, he tried again.

“Please, Poppy, sit down.�

“You remembered,� she smiled.

“Remembered?� he asked.

“Last night,� she explained. “I said you could call me Poppy, but I hardly expected you to remember after the sleeping potion.�

“I, um... Oh.� Remus was almost embarrassed. He couldn't help but remember, and he didn't quite see why she didn't understand that. Hastily looking around for something else to say, he noticed that the rest of the Order seemed to have vanished; he was sure they had mostly been around in the night. “Where did everyone else get to? Peter and James and Sirius, I mean.�

“Oh, they all went home to sleep. You can hardly all go back to your old dormitory now.�

Remus smiled. “It's strange to think of someone else using it now. It felt very much like it was ours, more than any other part of the castle.�

“And you made the rest of the castle yours, too!� Poppy laughed. “No other students have dared do as the four of you did, not in all of my time here.�

“Well, James and Sirius always were rather exceptional.�

“Modest as ever,� she said, rolling her eyes. “You were very nearly their equal.�

“Oh, but in some respects, I could never have kept up.� Remus couldn't help but think of Sirius and all his girls, of James's school-wide popularity, discounting Snivellus and co.

“In what way?� Poppy asked.

“Um, quite a few things,� Remus hedged.

“Yes, but what?� she asked again, grinning. “I think I have a very good guess.�

Remus's eyebrows shot up of their own accord. “Do share.�

“Oh, it's only I overheard plenty of girls talking about the lovely Mr Black.�

Remus laughed. It was as if she had read his mind. “What did they say?�

“Some good things, some bad things. It was a different girl each time, which is rather revealing.�

“There were probably more girls than even you heard about with your sleeping potions. I said I couldn't keep up.�

Poppy smirked in a way that made Remus's stomach drop. “Oh, I think you could have kept up if you'd let yourself. They mentioned you once or twice too--wished you were slightly more receptive, for the most part.�

Remus blushed. Once or twice, there had been a girl who had seemed interested, but he had never let himself believe it. He couldn't be with someone who didn't know he was a werewolf, and any girl he had told would doubtless have run for the hills. To this day, he was amazed that Sirius, Peter and James hadn't done the same. “They wouldn't have said that if, well, if they'd known me a little better.�

Poppy frowned at him, seeming confused for a moment. Then, he saw the understanding hit her face. “You mean the lycanthropy,� she stated sadly.

Remus nodded.

“No woman worth her salt would care about that, Remus. No woman worth you would care about that.�

“Then perhaps they should,� he said.

Poppy just shook her head. “I should go. You're looking much better, but you do need to rest. Spell damage doesn't go away by itself.�

She moved to get up again, but instinctively, unthinkingly, Remus grabbed her hand. He didn't want to go. Seeing the surprise on her face, he let go almost instantly.

“Sorry, I shouldn't have...� His voice faded into nothing as Poppy sat back down and looked into his eyes, unblinking and still.

Moving slowly, like she didn't want to break the spell that had fallen over them, she reached out and took his hand again.

Remus levered himself into a sitting position, ignoring the ache in his ribcage. Neither of them breathed; the stillness was pervasive. He leaned forwards slightly. Poppy mirrored his movement. Simultaneously, they both leant forwards again to bridge the remaining gap. Their lips met in soft, sweet hunger.

His first kiss with the Hogwarts matron, with Poppy, and, he realised, he couldn't imagine it being any other way.