I haven’t seen Remus since the battle began- I’m seriously worried.
I’ve searched everywhere in this masonry maze, tracking and backtracking, trying not to panic. Afterall, Remus could be perfectly fine and looking for me too.
I’ve seen nearly everyone but Remus- maybe it’s time to send my Patronus.
A silvery wolf leaps from my wand and scrabbles down the corridor, rounding the corner, searching only for Remus.
Finally I manage to stumble upon the same entrance we used to come in, and finally I feel a sense of familiarity. I tread the hallways, looking in the entryways, around corners and behind closed doors, and still no Remus.
Finally, I smell it.
Fear rises up in me, my heart pounds and my breath hitch. I round a corner and go into shock.
Remus is lying on the stone floor beneath Fenrir Greyback.
Hot tears prick my eyes as I slowly approach, my wand drawn and mied at Greyback. A puddle of blood is pooled beneath them- I don’t know whose it is.
I want to run to Remus, but I fear I’m walking into a trap.
I step closer and nudge Greyback with the toe of my boot. His body is limp.
“Wingardium Leviosa,” I say, pointing my wand at him.
His body begins to levitate and I quickly direct it away from Remus’ body. “Incarcerous,” I add, binding him for good measure. I don’t care if he’s alive or dead, I’ve got more pressing concerns, but I don’t need him meddling now.
I rush to Remus’ side, sobbing openly as I kneel down next to him. My eyes quickly appraise his condition. His throat is bleeding excessively from an open bite wound and the blood has quickly saturated his shirt. My hand trembles as I pull his shirt aside to find another bite in his shoulder.
“Please don’t be dead, don’t leave me,” I plead, carefully reaching for his wrist to feel for a pulse. I feel a gentle throbbing beneath my fingers and weep with relief.
“Hang on, darling, just hang on- we’ll go to St. Mungo’s,” I say, my head snapping up as I hear Moody’s familiar limp echoing on the stone walls.
He stumps around the corner, halting abruptly when he sees us, and then quickly proceeds to my side.
“Is he-” he doesn’t finish the question.
“He’s alive,” I say, protectively laying a hand over Remus’ chest.
Mad-Eye looks down at his pale body lying there. “Merlin’s beard, girl, get him to St. Mungo’s!”
I sniffle and rise, with his help, pointing my wand at Remus, quickly conjuring a stretcher and levitating his body onto it.
“Get going,” he says, patting my shoulder. “He’ll be all right, I’ll tell the others.”
My lower lips trembles as I nod. “Yeah, OK. Thanks.”
My hand closes around his wrist and I side-along Apparate us to St. Mungo’s.
There’s nothing left for me to do now but entrust his life in someone else’s hands, sit and wait, and pray.