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?â€
He closed his eyes wearily, avoiding her gaze. –It's just exams, Madam Pomfrey.â€
–Just exams? You didn't seem this stressed about your OWLs.â€
–OWLs were easier, less important. After OWLs, I still had another two years of school left.â€
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...â€
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.â€
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.â€
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.â€
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.â€
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.â€
Remus let out a short, hollow laugh. –It's not that hard to predict, really.â€
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.â€
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.â€
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.â€
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--â€
–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.â€
–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.â€
–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.â€
–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.â€
–Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,†Remus said, contrite, –but I'd rather not. I just...â€
–You don't want to be alone,†she concluded.
–No.â€
–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.â€
–Yes, but the examiners have made an exception for me. I'll take it tomorrow morning, at the same time as the Divination paper.â€
–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.â€
–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.â€
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.