ARTY'S POV

"Are you sure you're not even a tiny bit attracted to him? There's no shame in it, he's rather lovely" Lily smiled sweetly looking up at me, her face glowing a golden colour reflecting the hue of the flames from the fire. She looked like the perfect description of what you'd imagine a tamed lion to look like in human form, in this lighting. The perfect Gryffindor girl. I could see why James' was so sweet over her. She was sincere, curiously involved and for the transparent reason of only trying to receive the best outcome for everyone. Gently coaxing truths that many would still keep locked within their own minds, even if asked a second time to reveal their opinion on a matter. She was brave enough to ask the questions many would tiptoe around and in a way that didn't seem invasive.

Despite this though, my walls were built up high. I was both hyperaware of the fact that they were almost impossible to crash down, especially when I felt even the slightest bit overwhelmed or defensive and also was hyperaware of the fact Lily was pressing for a real answer, seeing past a comment not even I knew was true or not. She was acting as if I was lying about not finding Remus attractive and in all honesty I didn't know who was right and who was wrong.

"Perhaps you're attracted to Remus if you find him rather lovely?" I laughed. In my head I could see myself building another brick layer to the wall I had been building ever since adolescence. Lily sighed, a sigh of defeat but also of amusement.

"I'm not attracted to Remus, I've known him for years now and he's-" Lily went onto say but I hastily cut her off, trying to play off a smirk on my face that felt (and must have looked) so foreign.

"Even better though right? You've known him for years and nothing has swayed you from the opinion he's lovely. What more could you ask for? I say ask him for a date to Hogsmead this weekend. I heard some Slytherin girls the other day saying people go there for butterbeer? I presume hogsmead isn't that far away and that its beerless butter!" I rushed out, joking and suggesting awkwardly, trying to divert the attention off of me as much as possible and spin the idea of Remus back onto Lily.

They had chemistry. I hadn't known any of them for nearly long enough to determine a clear idea of who they all were individually (including Sirius) but from what I had seen, Lily and Remus had the most potential romantically out of all of them.

They'd always be close to one another whilst sat down anywhere. Whether that be sat next to or opposite each other whilst eating or on a more intense level, like at the party, basically sat on one another.

They'd always agree on little quarrels here and there that the others would have and shared many of the same opinions and were the only ones (other than Alice and Frank, who honestly most of the time decided to ditch to hang out in the greenhouses, which wasn't a shared interest within the group.) who were mature enough to 'agree to disagree' when things started heating up.

They'd swap looks with each other that I could only interpret as friendly mischief, the kind that a playful couple would share. That or they were both incredibly good at non-verbal communication.

Read the same books (from the ones I had managed to sneak a peak at).

Enjoyed the same lessons.

There was a spark there, a warmth that radiated from the two that together almost seemed like one. They were both very similar.

Lily was just about to respond, a puzzled look upon her face at my mention of a date with Remus, when suddenly a noise sounded from the stairs. Both of us quickly turned our heads towards the archway but no one was there. Quick footsteps then rushed up the stairs, as if someone stumbled and retreated before being busted for eavesdropping.

"James...probably." Lily laughed softly, her eyes not responding to her laugh. Still rather puzzled looking. There was a pause, as I stared back again towards the entrance to the stairway. How could she be sure?

As if she read my mind, she responded in a small voice.

"It's always James." Her voice sounded, her tone undistinguishable, sounding as if she was responding to a question I had not asked.

After a quiet minute of both absentmindedly staring into the flames of the Gryffindor commonroom. A minute of sulking silence, before Lily slapped her knees and stood up quickly.

"Right," she dusted off her hands on her thighs "it's pretty late, lessons start again tomorrow. Potions is going to kill me if I don't get my beauty sleep" She laughed, quickly followed by a roar of a yawn. We both walked towards the stairs, hesitating slightly. I could only imagine we were both wondering who had heard our conversation and would it be turned into gossip.

"We don't have to talk about this again," Lily searched my face for her to continue "but don't get the wrong idea. Remus is darling, but not MY darling. No date at Hogsmead will ever happen between us both, if it isn't without the group that is. So why don't we all arrange something soon?" Her eyes brightened, disguising the dark circles that were beginning to taint her lily-white skin.

"I would love to, the stories I've hear-" I began but was cut off.

"Yeah I thought it had sounded like you had never been before. How strange for a pureblood," She wondered "Well, that sets it in stone then. A date to Hogsmead, all of us. Platonically." She lowered her head, eyes staring up at me in a cheeky expression.

*

Somehow waking up the day after I had experienced one of my first real hangovers was apparently hitting me harder than expected. I blame the poor sleep I had experienced. A thumping in my head a wonderful wakeup call to reality.

Hogwarts seemed colder today. The stone floor ice cold to bare feet. The windows slightly rattling in their frames from the winds that were picking up quickly outside. A chill slightly frosted the mirrors of jewellery trinkets and any reflective surface in the dorm; whether that be the shiny buttons of a cardigan tossed carelessly on the floor to freeze, to the polished handles to each girls trunk. It took everything in me to remove myself from the safe warm blankets to get dressed into my robes for the day. Undressing a task that, in the moment, only seemed cruel enough for the inmates at Azkaban.

We all (Lily, Marlene and Alice) groggily slumped out of the dorm door together. All looking like we could do with a few more hours in bed. I was the last one to leave, slamming the old, heavy door even seemed like a strenuous task. Something that only the weakest (or a small child) would struggle with.

As I reached the end of the stairs, the girls picking up pace to join the nattering of sleepy voices near the fire, I had realised I had forgotten my wand I had for some reason slipped inside one of my shoes beside my bed. Last night being too tired to carefully place it back in it's box, like Mother had always told me to do.

I quickly scrambled for the shoe, that somehow this morning I must have kicked under the bed and headed back downstairs. The door not being easier to close second time around.

absentmindedly, paying more attention to my own feet counting the steps than looking ahead of me, I softly walked into another pair of shoes. Worn and large, scuffed around the edges in a loved charm. I looked up to meet eyes that before thought were a chocolate brown with green flecks, looking bright and hazel.

"Good Morning," Remus said in a scratchy, deep morning voice "sleep well?" He asked, though his voice suggested a lack of interest, and suggested more of a robotic routine of being polite. The type of way you'd respond to questions your parents friends would ask you around a dining table. Monotone, yet nothing to fault.

"Pretty terribly actually," I laughed, a small yawn conveniently sounded "yourself?" I said, making an effort to sound more interested than he did. Perhaps he just wasn't a morning person. Understandable.

"That's a shame. I slept fantastic. Just fantastic." He nodded and smiled, a thin straight smile that showed two strained dimples. Unlike his genuine lopsided one that allowed one to make an appearance. I couldn't decode his face or voice. Unreadable and questionable at once. Not like he gave much chance of conversation to decide before joining Peter and another Gryffindor boy called Louis near the fire, smiling that lopsided smile that wasn't granted to me in their direction.

*

REMUS' POV

Lesson's passed by surprisingly quickly considering the amount of yawns that sounded throughout each lesson, by each house. Although on any other day that would be a good thing, today felt dull. Everyone lifeless.

James fell asleep in three classes, dribbling all over parchment that would usually be charmed to fly over to someone with something funny to contribute; only after he's origami'd the perfect parchment swan. He barely had the energy to even flirt with Lily over lunch, giving her a well deserved break from his attention.

Speaking of Lily, she had a nervous edge about her all day. Probably panicked about why James wasn't paying attention to her, expecting the worst more than likely. Saving energy to pounce on her and cry that he's rejected the next day. Though I did catch a few longing glances in his direction, again laced with a sense of fear. As to be expected.

Marlene found herself 'ill' half way through the day and managed to convince the poor, young Madam Pomfrey, in the hospital wing to send her to bed rest for the day or else she'd throw a tantrum of some sort.

Alice and Frank were less touchy feely all day (which was great for all of us) and Peter, much like James had fallen into a sleep state. Extreme daydreaming, nothing could snap him back to reality. His small eyes seemed big and round in a sleepy daze. Often, like James again, dribbling over himself...though awake. Not even the Professors seemed to bother to push the distant boy to pick up a quill that hadn't even been set out onto the table.

Sirius decided halfway through the day that boredom was too much for him and was now covered by ink designs that threatened to leak and spread across the microscopic lines of the texture of his skin. Making every drawing look slightly blurred or furry to stare at. A number of Professors warning him of ink poisoning at any small sight of his exposed skin. To which he responded with mildly concerning comments, comparing poison as something close to a dream.

Talking of furry, tomorrow was the night and I could feel the sensation ripping through my veins. A feeling I hated that I enjoyed. Making the comedown to the pain I'll feel in only two days so much worse. The days leading the transformation always spiked my senses, in a way I could only  admit made me feel strong in a body that often felt so weak. A tingle always danced upon my skin as if I had just drunk a vile of liquid luck at all times. Feeling like constant soft goosebumps that were warm and invisible. My skin felt electric and everything seemed to fasten pace in these days, like a caffeine rush that didn't crash...until the transformation. I wished to stay this way, my brain working faster and without hesitation and if projected onto the right thing is incredibly useful (only downside being paranoia was a quality that loved to attach itself to a quick mind). Not feeling the ache in my bones or tightness and pull of sore muscles, that never seemed to loosen in time before another transformation is in sight.

The feeling I felt within my own body a few days before transformation never stops the thoughts but always stops the pain I physically feel. A weight being lifted off of my shoulders, finally not feeling pain that I become so numb to feeling. A feeling of pure ecstasy. It makes it all that worse when the pain comes crashing back twice as hard after the full moon, making me hate that I found even the slightest comfort in a side affect of a disease that poisons my DNA. A poison that not even Sirius would consider a dream.

Perhaps it was because of my heightened state, feeling quietly frustrated that everyone was drained whilst all I wanted to do was be productive, that I resulted in using all of my energy into focusing on everyone else's moods (and violently bouncing my leg under each desk to the point it would shake and i'd have to apologetically straighten the surface for the person next to me).

I closely watched everyones energy levels stoop further and further; Sirius, James, Peter, Frank, Lily, Marlene, Alice, even occasionally watched the students I had only briefly mumbled a quick 'please' and 'Thank you' to in my lessons. All but watching one, Arty.

I couldn't stand to look at her for longer than a few seconds without feeling a pang of shame thump against my chest. Perhaps it was my transformation, but the pride in me couldn't ruin the feeling of feeling nothing hurtful at all. She didn't seem to mind much, equally not present in much of the day like the others (yet surprisingly being compliant by actually doing school work). I caught her gazing in my direction a number of times throughout the day, a benefit of being hypersensitive in my current state, even my peripheral vision was improved clearer, sharper.

She looked at me with gaped mouth, lazily parting. Her face showing no energy to conceal the fact she was so obviously staring and as I didnt have to glance back in her direction to know she probably thought I was lacking too much energy like the rest of them to notice. On second thoughts, the constant restless legs, gently rocking frame and scratching fingernails against raw rubbed hands probably didn't scream 'I'm tired' though I didn't get much sleep either last night. For obvious reasons.

I hadn't gained feelings for Arty, I knew that for sure...I think. Though it took me a while to figure out why I felt so hurt by her comments on me last night. It definitely had not been the first time someone had verbally mentioned their lack of attraction towards me (to put it kindly) and certainly won't be the last. I was up for hours convincing myself it was nothing personal until I believed it...or until I felt the craved sensation of electric relief rushing through my veins to send me into a blissful state of no longer caring. A worry stored for another day. A worry that was still very present and thought consuming, yet without the lack of confidence.

Confidence and me was a deadly combination, appearing only from the feeling of something inside that was definitely a sign of something deadlier. Today Arty wasn't worth my time, i think she felt that and though I felt guilt, I couldn't find the heart to bother to reassure her.

I hated that I loved the feeling leading to a transformation, so much anxiety, fear and pain to endure. So many mistakes easily made in the comfort of cockiness. Yet it always felt like a block on my brain when I tried to address them. I'd rather run. Sprint. Cause Mischief. Read too many books at once, just because I have the ability to focus without pain.

I wasn't myself, wasn't yet a wolf. I hated that I loved this version of myself, because it was so fleeting.