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It is a sunny morning in September and Poppy is busying herself with folding sheets with the flick of her wand to put into the linen closet. The ward is empty, as it usually is in the first week of term. Her supply of potions is stocked and inventoried, her pamphlets folded and organized and the shelf in her office is dusted and filled with new books on healing she has bought during the summer. She is ready for the start of a new term and is looking forward to getting busy. Not that she wishes her students to be ill, but she knows it will happen, as it always does, and she will be here to take care of them.
From the corner of her eye she can see the doors open and she wonders who the unlucky child is who has to visit the hospital wing before classes have even started. Sometimes it happens, and it’s most often a nervous first year who just needs an encouraging talk and a guidance to where their first lesson is taking place. When she turns to greet whoever has entered, she freezes.
A man is standing in the doorway. He is lanky and his posture a little hunched, as with someone who hasn’t yet realized how tall they are. His hair is brown and wavy and unruly and he is dressed in ragged brown robes that need mending. He is in his thirties but he looks both older and younger than his age. Older because of the gray strands of hair spreading from his temples. Younger because in his face she can still see the timid boy she met for the first time twenty two years ago.
“Remus!”
He gives her a shy smile and looks even more like the boy from her memories. “Hi madam. I was just-”
Poppy closes the distance between them with a half run and pulls him into a hug.
“My dear boy”, she sighs and squeezes him before she releases and smiles up at him. “I heard from professor Dumbledore that you are our new defence against the dark arts teacher.”
“I am” he says, and his eyes dart toward the floor before they meet hers. His voice is soft but hoarse at the same time.
“So it's Poppy for you then, as we’re colleagues now”, she nudges his arm.
He laughs. “It’s nice to see you, Poppy.”
“It's nice to see you too, Remus. “ She says with a smile. She cocks her head to the side and gestures towards the ward. “So, he returns to the scene of the crime. Is it as you remembered?”
“Not much has changed”, Remus says.
“No, you’re right. Except I’m a lot older”, Poppy jokes.
“You're not that old”, Remus says and his eyes dart over her. “You must have been younger back then than I am now?”
“I was twenty five when we first met, if I recall correctly.”
“Oh”, Remus rubs the back of his neck. “I never realized you were so young. I … You were just an ageless adult to me, I never could have guessed your age.”
“I get it. The older I get the harder I find it to guess the age of the children. I met a young lady the other day in Hogsmeade, I thought she was about fifteen, turns out she was twenty one!”
Remus laughs, while he looks around. A flicker of sadness and maybe fondness in his eyes. She notices that his smile is faint and something is lacking.
Headlines flashes in her mind. Lily and James Potter found dead. Peter Pettigrew killed in an attack against muggles. Sirius black caught by Aurors. And then, a much more recent headline: prison escape: Mass murderer Sirius black escaped from Azkaban.
She realizes this is probably what everyone who knew him before thinks about when they see him, and she feels guilty for doing just the same. She can’t imagine what he has been through, and decides not to bring it up. Instead she clears her throat.
“How are the full moons?”
He turns to her, as if suddenly snapped back from a thought. “Oh, fine. I've found strategies to get through it.”
She nods. “It's nice to hear that. You made such progress when you were here, managing to control the damage the wolf inflicted at last. Amazes me to this day.”
“Yeah … Uh, much thanks to you of course”, he says with a smile, but he has a faint of guilt in his expression. “I’ll try a new strategy now though. Dumbledore has asked Severus to make me wolfsbane potions every month. I am a bit nervous about that to be honest.”
“You've never tried it before?”
“No, I … I haven't had the chance.”
Poppy nods and her eyes find the ragged robes and she wonders what the price for one bottle of wolfsbane is. It's a fairly new potion, but if it isn't made available for those who need it then what is the point of it in the first place? She tucks away her thoughts on how the healing system at St Mungo’s should be working, and crosses her arms and smiles.
“Oh, trying a new potion is always a risk. I've heard wonderful stories about the wolfsbane though, so I hope it will cooperate with you.”
“I hope so too.” Remus puts his hands in his pockets and moves further down the ward. Poppy follows beside him.
“How have you been?” She asks before she can stop herself. She grimaces, as she had decided not to talk about the years between his time at school and now.
“I'm fine,” he answers.
Past tense question. Present tense answer.
He swallows and looks at the big windows with a view of the greenhouses. “It is strange to be back at Hogwarts.”
“It always is”, Poppy says, although she knows they don't have the same experience with returning to the place of their youth. Remus continues strolling deeper into the ward and stops. She followers his gaze to the bed in the corner, furthest away from the door.
“I still think of this one as your bed”, Poppy says, aiming for a bright tone but doesn't quite reach it.
She takes a few steps back, giving some space as Remus looks lost in thought. She turns to the windows and waits in silence. Outside she can see two dementors passing by in the distance. Just the sight of them sends a shiver down her spine. She doesn't like them, none of the staff does, not even Dumbledore. But they are there to protect the school, or rather the boy in Gryffindor tower whom Sirius Black is out to find, if rumors in the staff room are correct.
She looks back at the bed in the corner of the ward and remembers four boys huddled up on the bed, laying half across each other so as not to fall off, until she scolds them because patients need some peace and quiet. She remembers how they always seemed to find a way to sneak past her to visit this corner, and to this day she doesn't know how they did it. She remembers hearing them whisper behind the privacy screen, but then finding the boy asleep alone, with empty boxes of chocolate frogs and scattered chess pieces on the floor. It didn’t matter how many times she asked them to let her patent rest, they always returned. And she remembers a boy with long limbs curled up in the visitors chair that had been transfigured into a padded armchair, asleep with his neck in an uncomfortable angle and his black hair hanging down across his face.
Your chairs are shit. I had to transfigure it.
They are not meant for sleeping in. Or sitting for a long period of time.
Then where am I supposed to sit? On the floor?
At your desk in your classroom, I suggest.
She remembers his limp hand next to Remus’ on the mattress, and deciding to let the tall boy sleep in the transfigured chair for a little longer.
She clears her throat.
“My primary patients are the students at this school, but the staff are my patients too. My job is to care for all wizards and witches living inside this castle.”
Remus looks like he has forgotten she is there when he turns around and blinks.
“And my door is always open, if needed”, she continues.
He smiles weakly, while his eyes are shiny. “With the wolfsbane, I probably won't be in need of care, but thank you.”
Poppy nods. “Oh, of course. Well, I do help with more things than wounds and failed spells. And after many years in this profession I have learned that there are things in life that are best treated not with a spell or a potion, but a good talk.” She gives a little laugh. “And I don't like to brag, but I think I am right to say that my kettle makes the best tea you can find in this castle.”
Remus smiles wider, and it crinkles his eyes. “You do make really good tea. I still dream about it sometimes.”
“I would offer you some now, but I know classes are about to start soon. How are you feeling about the start of term?”
“Nervous” Remus says, raising his shoulders. “I've been up all night, finishing my lesson plans.”
“You will do great”, Poppy said. “The students will adore you, I just know it.”
“You really think so?” He asks, and she sees again the timid boy she met more than twenty years ago.
“Of course.”
“Thank you, ma- Poppy.”
She smiles. “Did you always want to become a teacher?”
“No” Remus shakes his head. “For a while I … I wanted to be a healer.”
“Oh?” she raises her eyebrows in surprise.
“Yeah” he says. “I don’t know. I thought it might be useful … And I had a great role model.”
Poppy blinks. She can feel her eyes fill with tears. She blinks again, faster. “You're too kind. Always been.”
He laughs. “I don't know about that.” He looks at his watch. “I do really need to go now.*
She nods. “I won't keep you then.”
They say their goodbyes and her eyes follow him as he heads for the door. Then he stops and turns a little hesitant.
“Maybe … Would it be alright if I stopped by tomorrow? For some tea? And … a talk?”
Poppy gives him her warmest smile. “Of course. Seven o'clock works for you?”
“Seven is fine.”
She nods again. “See you tomorrow then.”