The Stars and Forbidden Cigarettes | Professor Remus Lupin

The Shrieking Shack

Reverie jolts up from a couch in a room she's sure she's never been in. In front of her is an enormous fireplace, housing warm, dancing flames; the floor is covered by dust and what seems to have once been a red, oriental rug; the couch she is on is plush, and she's convinced it's more comfortable than any bed she's ever laid in. The walls around her are dilapidated and wooden, there's a piano in one corner, a large, red four-poster bed in the middle, and she is convinced that she isn't in Hogwarts until she sees Lupin in front of the windows, fixing the shutters. Her eyes widen and she tries to get up, but moving feels like lifting blocks of concrete. She lies back down and covers her face with her hands.

"Where are we?" She groans out, muffled. Lupin looks over briefly before turning back to stare in the flames. He debates whether he should tell her. The room is far too dim for them to be in it together, safely.

"The Shrieking Shack." He says with as little emotion as possible. Her hands slip off of her face.

"The Shrieking Shack? I thought it was closed down. Or haunted," she says, struggling to sit up. He looks over and sees that her dress strap had slipped off of her shoulder, leaving her collarbone bare. He tears his eyes away as Reverie quickly pushes it back up. She only now realizes that Lupin is in his dress suit, but his jacket is draped over the other end of the couch, his collar and tie are loosened, his hair even more disheveled. She nearly blushes at the sight before searing pains shoot from her skull down her spine. She drops her head into her hands and rests her elbows knees, rocking back and forth. The pain is indescribable.

"What's wrong with me?" She asks, and Lupin looks over from where he stands by the fireplace.

"You nearly froze yourself to death."

She stops rocking and sits still. The memories come flooding back. The numbing pain, the searing cold, the snow, the party.

She drags her hands down her face and covers her mouth as she looks up at Lupin with wide eyes. He looks back at her, but his nonchalant demeanor is gone.

"How could you possibly be so reckless?" He's angry.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I came to the party, I wasn't in my right mind, it was inconsiderate, I know–"

"Not the party, Miss Castill. I couldn't care less about the party." He walks towards her. "How could you possibly be so reckless to nearly freeze yourself to death?"

She tries standing up but her spine is on fire, and she still can't feel her feet. She sits back down on the couch and looks away from Lupin, staring into the fire.

"Why didn't you take me to the Hospital Wing?" She whispers. She's embarrassed to be so helpless in front of him. He looks away from her and moves towards the fire, adding more logs and casting another spell to make it grow larger.

He doesn't know why he brought her here. She was ice in his arms, dying. He was scared. He doesn't know why.

"The Hospital Wing doesn't have a fireplace." He doesn't say anything else. She watches as he moves over to the upholstered arm chair to sit, rest his elbow on the armrest, hold his face in his hand, and look back at her. He watches as her eyes fall to his arms. His sleeves are rolled up his forearms, his shirt is more ruffled than she'd ever seen it, she wants to run her fingers through his hair, fix his tie, touch his chest, button his shirt. The room is far too dim. He can't take it.

"Miss Castill..."

She looks away, and he draws in a ragged breath. They sit in silence, as she stares into the fire and he watches her, almost terrified that she might collapse again.

"I think someone in the Ministry wants me dead," Reverie says suddenly, and then looks over at Lupin cautiously to see his response. He sits up, frowning.