𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 [𝐣.𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫]

20: 𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔬, 𝔧𝔲𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔱, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯

Remus Lupin was briefly aware of a loud THUNK hitting the bed next to his when a large tangle of limbs, phalanges, and hair crashed on top of him. He let out a strangled cry, thrashing about before Sirius's foot smacked his nose.

"Argh!"

His heart raced as he rubbed his tired eyes, sharp bouts of panic settling in his chest as he looked about for his attacker, his pulse slowing as he heard Sirius's barklike laughter.

"Sorry mate," came his muffled reply as he shifted around, accidentally elbowing him in the ribs.

"Ow, ow," Remus mumbled, rubbing the soon-to-be bruise with great vigor. He groaned and socked a nearby shoulder, which let out a cry of protest.

"Ow!"

Remus paused, searching for a third head amidst the sea of blankets.

"James?" He asked, clearing the last of his sleep from his throat.

He shook his head in disbelief before smacking his messy mop of hair, grinning as the palm of his hand collided with the back of James's head. "What the hell are you doing on my bed, you fucking wanker?"

"OW!"

Remus could nearly feel Sirius's large grin as he imitated his act of violence. "Oi, James, mate, your fat arse is on my arm."

"You didn't have to bloody hit me, too!" James snapped, grabbing ahold of Sirius's arm agressively. Every time he tried to wriggle out and escape, he'd tighten his hold, clinging on like a koala dangling from a tree branch.

"I'm 'fraid amputation is the only option at this point, mate." Remus burrowed himself under his pillow. Someone was lying across his legs and evidently refused to move. He figured his best options were either a levitation charm via wandless magic (which he didn't feel like risking this early in the morning) or giving in and making himself comfortable.

It happened more often than one may think, really.

Nighttime for some of the marauders was the best, and for others it was the worst. Remus often woke up with haunting nightmares about the wolf, biting and tearing into itself viciously. He could smell his own blood, cry out with each agonizing moment as the wolf lost control. Over, and over, and over again.

It was worse yet, when he couldn't decipher the night terrors apart from memories.

Sirius was a light sleeper. Whenever he heard Remus's muffled sobs, he'd quietly slip out of bed, cautiously peeking out from outside the curtain. James always followed his suit, then Peter.

Sometimes, it was Sirius.

James always heard first, seeing as his bed was closest. Remus always found it rather odd, if not endearing. James Potter was one of the heaviest sleepers he'd ever known, and yet by the time he was awoken by Sirius's gasp of horror, James was already there.

Sometimes they hitched up his blankets, using their wands to cast eerie shadows on their faces, oohing and moaning like an old ghost that haunted the creaky floorboards of an old mansion. They'd continue their charade until Remus laughed, his cheeks still wet but his heart slightly fuller.

Remus remembered once when they'd all congregated in Sirius's bed, watching him sob into James's open arms. For a while, they just sat there, unsure of what to do. Then Peter cast Lumos and held his wand in between his teeth, creating shadow puppets that danced and morphed into other beings across the wall.

James had grinned enormously, smacking Peter on the back. He'd asked where his puppet talents came from, and Peter had just blushed, shrugging casually.