DAY ONE
Remus had cleared his throat four times now.
He'd assumed that spring had brought hay fever along with it, and that this was simply allergies.
Except Remus didn't have hay fever.
And he didn't think the pollen could reach this deep into the castle.
Oh well.
He sneezed, next.
"Christ," Remus rubbed at his nose with his sleeve. He walked sluggishly alongside his friends as they approached the boastful doors of the Great Hall, desperate for breakfast.
With a groan from the doors, they entered the room to see a plentiful display, as usual.
"Oh, thank fucking Christ," Remus all but sobbed when he sat down at the table. He was already halfway through layering a thick spread of plum jam on his toast before the others even sat down.
James snorted. "Hungry, much?"
"Don't even," Remus retorted through a half-hearted glare, brandishing his toast menacingly.
Sirius dropped down onto the bench, book bag following suit. He ran his fingers through his hair, rings somehow managing to not get stuck, and sighed exhaustedly.
"I am so done with Herbology," emphasising his point by throwing the near blank scroll that was supposed to be his homework.
"Why'd you even take it in the first place?" James asked through a mouthful of oatmeal.
Peter answered for him, instead, batting his eyelashes. "So he can sit next to me, of course."
"Exactly, my dear," Sirius replied, before smothering an obnoxiously loud, disgustingly wet kiss onto the side of Peter's face. Peter yelped and wiped at his cheek as Sirius cackled.
"Right in front of my salad?" Muttered Remus, grimacing.
"Your salad- you're having toast, Moony," James reached over to pick up a slice. Remus was quicker, batting at his hand and shielding his plate possessively.
"It's a muggle- never mind," Remus gave up, propping his head up with his arm.
"Oh, Moony, if you wanted a kiss, you could have just said so!" Sirius exclaimed.
"That's not what I said-" But it was already too late as Sirius bent across the table, delivering a considerably less obnoxiously loud or disgustingly wet kiss onto Remus' cheek. Much to Remus' appreciation.
No. Annoyance.
"Wipe that grin off your face," Remus narrowed his eyes. Sirius' pleasantly perfect grin grew into a shit-eating one, feeding Remus' annoyance.
Sirius pulled back, dropping onto his seat once more, leaving a red-faced Remus scowling.
James picked up the forgotten scroll and scanned over it casually. He handed it back afterwards.
"Okay, question one A is mandrake, easy-"
"Wait, wait, wait," Sirius scrambled to fish his quill and ink out of his bag, and hastily started writing. "Okay, mandrake," he said softly. "Question B is 'What plant is best kept quite entirely out of sunlight, and poses a threat to anything that moves?'"
"Devil's Snare, Sirius, Devil's Snare," James huffed. "You should know this!"
"How? How should I just know that?"
"Slytherin prank, second year! We conjured a net of the plant in the middle of the steps down to their dungeons and cast a disillusionment charm." James said incredulously.
"Oh, yeah! Sick one, Moony, brilliant," Sirius smiled blissfully at the memory. Remus nodded in acknowledgement.
"So it was you who caused the Slytherins to have to sleep out for a night," Lily demanded from a few seats over, glaring at Remus. He, in return, yelped and ducked from the blueberry she flung at him.
"I'm only the idea giver! They were the doers!" Remus pleaded and pointed from behind his James-sized shield.
"With these three you're doing practically all the work!" She scolded, earning her many protests from James, Sirius and Peter.
"While I'd truly love to continue arguing with you, Evans, I have Herbology homework to get done, and only about ten minutes till it's due," Sirius bowed 'apologetically'.
"You mean you have a James to do your homework," She quirked a brow.
"I'm feeling terribly objectified this morning," James muttered.
"You're correct, Evans, but I still only have ten minutes- nine now, thanks- to get James to do my homework," Sirius said, completely ignoring the comment from said man.
"How does he know all this, anyway? He isn't in our Herbology class," Asked Lily, feeding her mouth with a spoon of muesli.
"My mum runs a plant store, and she taught me a lot about plants when I was growing up, so I could help with the shop," James answered proudly.
"He's secretly the biggest botanical nerd you'll ever meet. He'd demolish us all if he was in our class," Sirius said.
"You're lucky he isn't, Pads, you need all the help you can get," Remus quirked, and he smiled after aiming and flicking a blueberry perfectly at his nose. Sirius jumped at the impact and scowled mockingly. Remus flashed him a grin and took another bite of his toast.
He dutifully ignored the lingering tickle in his throat until the end of breakfast.
* * * * * *
The day was satisfyingly normal.
Remus was sat in Transfiguration, listening to Professor McGonagall's monologue, but also relaxing into the soon-to-arrive lunch time.
His allergies hadn't lessened but they hadn't worsened either, so he accepted that as a win.
Remus was leaning over his notes as he wrote. He cleared his throat again.
It was getting annoying.
But then he felt something lodge in his airpipe. He leant back into his chair gently as the obstruction pushed up and up. His body jolted with an abrupt, muffled cough, and he felt something launch out of his mouth.
Wafting down through the air, twirling and dancing and floating.
A single white petal fell into the palm of his hand.
Remus stared at it. Hard.
It didn't wriggle or move. It just sat there, staring back.
Remus didn't remember inhaling a whole petal. Surely, he would've noticed. He continued examining it. It was curled and shaped like an abstract sort of bowl.
The petal was warm in his hand, and slightly damp. It was unwrinkled and untarnished, and it looked freshly bloomed and bright.
When was the last time Remus had even been near a flower?
At that, he coughed up another.
No
No, no, no, no, no
There had to be some other explanation, right?
But there aren't all that many cough-up-flowers excuses, are there? This could only mean one thing.
Remus' hands began to jitter as he cradled the delicate petals.
Dear fucking god. I have Hanahaki.
* * * * * *
Remus managed to make it through the last few minutes of the lesson without having a breakdown. Though, he was on the verge of it.
Several times, he had to organise and reorganise his thoughts into something helpful, but it was hard considering he'd just discovered he had a basically terminal illness. He was panicking, to put it lightly.
The bell signalling lunch was mere background noise to his mind. In fact, he didn't stand until he felt Sirius flick his shoulder and say "Lunch, Moony, come one."
Remus stood dazedly. He shoved his belongings off the desk and into his messenger bag and lifted it up onto his shoulder.
You could've convinced Remus that he hadn't taken as much as a step yet, but there he was, in front of the same doors he'd been at not even four hours ago. When he'd been so blissfully ignorant of his impending doom.
Remus turned to his friends.
"I think I'm actually gonna nip to the library. There's a... novel I'm looking for," He said, tightly.
"Oh- yeah, okay. We'll see you soon?" James asked, looking to face him.
"Yep, yeah. I should be quick."
"Do you want me to come along? For, I dunno, help?" Sirius asked, and he smiled at Remus.
"Pads, you hate the library. 'Bane of my existence' if I remember correctly?"
"Well, yeah, but- okay, no, you're right. I fucking hate that room," Sirius visibly shuddered. Remus snorted, despite it all.
"I'll see you twats in a minute," And with that, he turned on his heel and headed determinedly to the library. Over his shoulder he vaguely registered his friends shouting "Love you too" but paid no mind to it. He had business to attend to.
The towering shelves of deteriorating novels welcomed him with a warm, comforting, slightly musty smell. He had walked straight to the non-fiction, medical section, and was scanning the vast rows for anything to do with Hanahaki. So far, nothing.
His eyes spotted a thin paperback slotted between two dense dictionaries of some kind. Out of pure curiosity, he slipped it out and turned the cover to face him.
Hettie's Herpes and Hanahaki
Remus looked at it in surprise. Okay.
He opened it up to a dog-eared page in the middle and picked up from a random sentence.
~~
John was warty all the way down. It had resulted in a particularly pleasurable and unique experience as his stubby length lagged in and out of my excitable wetness-
~~
Remus dropped the book with a horrified gasp. He tried to shake the vile imagery out of his mind, wringing his hands helplessly.
He looked back at the deceitful book on the floor and prodded it with his foot as though he himself would catch John's warts.
"Goddamn you mam for choosing such a common middle name," He ran a frazzled hand through his hair with a shuddering sigh.
Cautiously, he bent down to pick up the paperback, and flipped it over to skim the blurb.
Hettie was a polite girl. But she had a secret: Every night, she would lay with a new man. This had it's consequences, however, as she contracted numerous diseases, and ultimately dies. Join her through her adventurous expeditions, as she discovers the wild world of coitus.
Remus gawked at the book, before slotting it back into place for someone else to find.
Just as he was losing hope, because seemingly no one had written any actual information on Hanahaki, he saw an exceptionally aged and worn book. It had fading gold letters printed on the burnt sienna spine which read:
Miscellaneous Magical Maladies, A-Z
With one final glimmer of motivation, he wrestled it out and opened the cover to find the contents page.
And to his sheer astonishment, there, under letter H, was Hanahaki.
Remus quickly flipped through the age-stained pages, praying that this wasn't another porn on paper.
He almost laughed in disbelief when he skimmed the page. 'Overview', 'Symptoms', and most importantly; 'Cure'.
He snapped the cover shut and trekked to Madam Pince's desk to sign the book out.
* * * * * *
After dinner wrapped up, the Marauders headed to their dorm.
Collapsing on his bed, Remus exhaled at the whirlwind of a day. He still had his bag hanging limply off his shoulder, and so he shimmied out of it.
Then he remembered the book.
Remus pushed himself up and dug through his bag, dragging out the brick sized volume. He kicked off his shoes, crossing his legs, and he yanked the curtains surrounding his bed closed.
Peeling open the cover once more, he scanned the introductory pages.
Published in 1509
Remus smoothed his thumb over the blotchy text.
The old binding fell open to the page on Hanahaki without any effort. The script was faded and smudged, but it was there, and Remus quickly began reading through it.
It was mostly general knowledge; rare, deadly (most of the time), flowers are coughed.
One line, however, caught Remus off guard.
However, if the patient was already unwell with a chronic sickness (such as the plague, dragon pox, cancer, lycanthropy, spattergroit, et cetera), the malady may consume the individual in even fewer days.
Lycanthropy.
Remus could die in a matter of days.
Air suddenly felt in short supply as he gulped down a breath. His head was a mess of thoughts and emotions, tangled up together.
Ignoring the scorching sting of tears welling in his eyes, he read desperately through the rest of the passage. Sentences stopped making sense and words became meaningless. Frustration stacked up within him with every line he devoured.
Coughing blood, weakness, bed-ridden, asphyxiation.
And the one and only cure for the disease requires the love be requited.
Anger tore through of him as he thrashed open his curtains, surging like a storm to his desk where he hurled the book down and glared in loathing severe enough that the book ignited.
He hurriedly wrenched his wand out of his trousers and doused the flame. He breathed.
Remus rested his arms on the table as he heaved rasps of air.
And then he remembered he had roommates.
Remus turned slowly round to face three bewildered boys. He set his jaw.
"Moony?" Sirius asked cautiously, sitting up to see him, and Remus nearly screamed at the depth of concern in his voice. "Are you okay?"
Remus combed his hand through his hair, puffing out a breath. He opened his mouth to speak, but rather than words, a cough came out. His hand covered his mouth, clenching when the soft petal collided with it.
The same putrid anger bubbled up in him, pulsing in his ears and tingling his wrists. He crushed the petal in his fist.
Wheeling around to march to the bathroom, he spat out: "Fine," and stalked ahead.
He waited for the dense shower steam to suffocate him.
The slam of the door lingered on.