“I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I didn’t.” And now she’s sitting down beside his bed, tenderly placing the bandage back on his shoulder. “I suspect who’s caused this, and if that’s who you’re afraid of, the ministry can have him charged with child endangerment, dear.”

The amount of times a day she has to deal with those four particular Gryffindors is not natural.

She’s expecting him in the hospital wing after breakfast, and again as soon as the full moon is gone.

She’s got a calming draught ready and waiting for him.

She’s immediately pulling back the linens on a freshly made bed. “Sit, Mr. Lupin. I’ve got a meal and a potion to help before tonight.”

“Regardless, you cannot go through your situation tonight on an empty stomach.” She was stern, already bringing the blankets up over him and putting a calming draught in his hand.

It’s absolutely out of the question.

Nothing serious? Who is the healer here? She doubts she needs to tell him he could die during each transformation. She’s doing what is best for his health.

She’s not taking any arguments about this, he needs to recover. He’s staying put, and he can finish his breakfast.

She’s not completely heartless, of course he can. But he will rest afterwards. She’ll have her assistant deliver it.

Neither of them can control when the full moon is going to occur, or what events it may coincide with. Their job right now is to ensure he recovers fully from this one.

No one’s forcing him to be anything he doesn’t want to be or isn’t ready for, apart from the obvious uncontrollable situation. Just eat up and rest.

His friends will understand, and they’re not going to hate him or blame him for something he has no control over. He needs to stop beating himself up, he can’t change his circumstances any more than she can get the students to fully listen to her.

She’s simply doing the job she was hired for. No other decent healer would tell him anything different than what she’s told him.

He needs to learn to handle it better, he’s been dealing with this for many years now.

Hospital wing. Now.

And I wasn’t born in the last snowfall. In that bed. Now.

“I’m not about to pretend that’s the reason, Mr Lupin.” She warned, while a thermometer was placed in his mouth.

“You’ve no reason to have anxiety over that, you’re a model student and you never fail a single class.” She hummed sternly, eyes focused on the thermometer as it slowly settled just below 34 degrees. “A little low, perhaps a slight fever.”