Born of Ash

One...two...three, four, eight- The rain began to hammer down on the window with increasing speed; running in torrents across the panes; falling from the stone ledge. I rolled over in the heavy blankets to watch the teal dawn sky turn to a deep thunderous grey as the cloud rolled across the rising sun: eclipsing it. I started violently as loud and chesty coughs issued from the bed beside me. I could not see the coughers face -it was obscured by the boxes of sweets and chocolates, cards from well-wishers and bouquets of flowers from loving families. They all had them. Every bed that lined the stone walls of the hospital wing was adorned with gifts from friends and family. But there was one bed that lay bare; the grey woollen sheets and blankets dull and simple. That was the bed I lay in now.
I fidgeted, adjusting the sling that bound my arm to my chest. It had been dislocated the night before and was still sore, but I was able to move it. I flexed my fingers, but they were rigid with the bandages that ensnared each of them. I tentatively undid one bandage on my left hand to sneak a glance at the nail beneath. I breathed a sigh of relief to see the nail grown back, but not daring to invite myself to remove the rest of the bandages.
“Ah, Lupin,” A soft but firm voice made me jump and quickly rewind the bandage around my finger. “You’re up I see.”
“Good morning, Madam Pomfrey.” I greeted brightly.
“Nice to see that you’re in high spirits: I dare to say that yesterday didn’t seem as bright.” She said. She strode over to my bedside and began to unwind the bandages from my hand, scowling at me when she came to the loose one to which I smiled sheepishly.
I had spent most of the previous day asleep. The day after the full moon was mostly sleep. Exhausted from my long night out I would fall into unconsciousness and wake a day later: usually at dawn. How much of that sleep was medically induced, I don’t know. The only way I found out what injuries I had sustained was the check the clipboard always hooked at the end of the bed.
“Not one of your best nights.” She said. I silently agreed, slowly nodding my head.
“Hm. Well, I think that you’re ready to go.” She smiled sympathetically down at me. I smiled back, knowing that se only meant well, but I didn’t need sympathy and only found it patronising when it was handed to me.
I hoisted myself out of bed and watched Madam Pomfrey disappear into her office as I drew the curtains around my bed to change into my school uniform folded neatly under the bed. I pulled on the terribly threadbare uniform, sewn and patched multiple times. I had worn this uniform my whole school career and as had my father.
I was ridiculed for my incredibly large uniform as a first year, and at first, I didn’t understand why I couldn’t have bright and new uniforms like all the other students, but as I aged and continued to pull of the same uniform my father had, I understood why my family lacked the same financial stability my classmates were gifted with.
But that first day of Hogwarts, I had worn a practically new plain black robe that was a perfect fit. I had never really owned anything new and it was fantastic... Now I realised how my parents would have saved and scraped for those few galleons to buy those plain black robes. I did have to wear them for most occasions until their ill fit on my matured body became ridiculous and my mother was forced to put them away- just in case. But upon my father’s discovery of my being housed in Gryffindor I was sent his old robes, the bold colours of the Gryffindor patch faded to pastels, and the hems taken up time and time again in an estimate of my height.
At the minute, the worn uniform was a perfect fit and all I could do was pray that I did not grow again as my trousers could not be let down much more. I had obviously had new shoes through the years but now I wore my fathers work shoes that he no longer had use for and had not had use for since his dismissal from his job at Gringotts not long after my birth.
I slung the battered leather satchel containing the day’s school books over my shoulder and slipped out of the Hospital Wing to face the long stretch of the fourth floor corridor that lead to the clock tower, but I turned immediately right as I should do, to descend the stone, spiralling steps that would take me to the Grand Staircase.
I continued down the ever changing pathways of the Grand Staircase until I found myself sat alone in the great hall. Five o’clock in the morning and I doubted any Hogwarts students had even fluttered and eyelid. The food was set out though, and I felt strange sitting at the large banquet alone. I chose a piece of toast to nibble at before I decided that I could not stomach it and drew my school books from by bag instead.
Time dragged past and the ceiling of the hall did not change from its dreary grey but the hall did fill with weary and sleep deprived students who soon perked up at the sight of the well cooked bacon and their friends.
“Moony!” The holler came from behind me as a board hand slapped my back affectionately. “What. A. Night.” Sirius sighed as he collapsed onto the bench beside me; his fringe flopped into his dark eyes and head in his hands. Of course he was referring to two nights ago.
“We are not going swimming again.” James concluded with as much exhaustion as Sirius had, taking his seat across from us.
“Swimming? Is that what you were doing? I would have called it frolicking.” Peter chided slipping in next to James with a grin, immediately reaching for the stacks of bacon.
“Well I am sorry that stags aren’t built for swimming.” He scoffed with no tone of humour. I shook my head with a smile and pushed the rack of toast towards him. He took a slice with a pout and nibbled on it slightly before his eyes wandered to an appealing looking plate of fried eggs.
Sirius’ eyes moved up to my face, dark iris’s raking over my face in search of any graze or scare-marks I had not shown for two years, not since my friends had taken up their animagi forms, but still marks Sirius and James would take as personal failures in looking after me.
“It was a good night.” I say, smiling down at him.
“Yeah.” He agreed, pushing my books off the table and placing an omelette in front of me, nodding at me to eat it. I shook my head and pushed it away, only to have him push it back with a death threat if I did not even try to make an effort.