my wax is melting
Transfiguration was interesting, once. If nothing else, McGonagall could certainly hold command of a classroom. But it seemed that Remus Lupin had forgotten what it means to be interested in anything at all. So it had been for the past few months, in fact. His notes were still the best of his friends, but he took them without zeal; head resting on non-dominant palm.
It wasn’t only his academic interest that evaded him today, though, but the whole waking world. Even with eyes forced open, his vision blurred with the art of exhaustion – the reds, greens, and yellows shaped like cells under a microscope, painted by the magic of the mind. So he set down his quill and settled to watch.
As Remus faded farther, the legion of colorful cells split and reformed into increasingly complex shapes. Leaf, mandrake, antler, blob. Dog, wolf, dissolve.
“Mr. Lupin!”
McGonagall, speaking sternly and close to his desk. His body shook with the discombobulated remains of startle and dream.
“Yes, I’m quite alright thanks.”
“I’ve asked you nothing, young man, but I have been hoping to catch your attention for the past five minutes, and I’ll have you know I do not believe for one moment that you are quite alright. The class was dismissed five minutes ago. Do you care to tell me why you’ve suddenly begun refusing the hospital wing on the day of the full moon, after seven years at this school?”
Remus, stumbling still into the world of matter, could not find his words.
“Mr. Lupin? Now I’ve asked you a question, hm?”
“My wax is melting.”
Remus deadpanned, then met McGonagall’s eyes. He saw his friends standing around his desk, too, all sharing a look of concern. Ugh. Bloody, insular wizards. “I’m sorry, Professor.”
“Messrs. Potter, Black, Pettigrew – please walk Mr. Lupin to the hospital wing. While you have my permission to be late for Prof. Flitwick’s upcoming lesson, I’ll refuse to hear later that you’ve abused it.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Sirius said hurriedly, leading the band of less-merry-than-usual Marauders away from the room. No cheek, no jape. “We’ll take care of him, don’t you worry Professor.”
Remus did have an inkling then to feel embarrassed about being taken care of, with so many pairs of eyes watching, but that inkling was all he had left to give. Soon enough, even this primal instinct of self-protection was eaten by the colorful cells dancing around his eyes.