Friday 14th January 1977
Remus tossed and turned under his bedsheets, unable to settle. His bed at Hogwarts rated as one of the most comfortable he had ever slept in – a close second to the one he used at the Potter’s, anyway. Rarely had he ever struggled to sleep in it. But the past few nights had been almost entirely sleepless.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the werewolf in Hogsmeade, about the poor dead woman, and the man who would wake up in St Mungo’s to find that his entire life had been destroyed. Remus had been afflicted for as long as he could remember – the thought of this man being forced to transform for the first time – probably alone, probably still grieving. It was unbearable. He felt a horrible, unmoveable sense of guilt.
So Remus did not sleep. He had been resorting to reading most of the night, until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. Tonight, he couldn’t even concentrate on a book.
He rolled onto his front, to see if that would help. No, his face was all squashed in his pillow that way. He rolled on his side, but this made his hip hurt. The other side made his ear too hot. He groaned under his breath.
“Oi, Moony,” Sirius whispered, as the curtains parted, “What’s wrong?” He crawled inside silently, with a quick lumos and a silencing spell. He knelt at the end of the bed, looking at Remus.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Remus squinted at the unnecessary brightness.
“Yeah, but it’s ok.” Sirius shifted and plonked himself down next to Remus.
“Oh,” Remus twisted his mouth, embarrassed, “Look, I’m not really in the mood for…”
“Oh, no, me neither! I mean… well, actually, now you mention it… but no, not why I came over.”
“Right.”
“So, what’s up?”
“Can’t sleep.”
“I can tell. Want a fag?”
“Run out.”
“It’s ok, I’ve got some off Emmeline. C’mon, shall we go downstairs? It's late, no one’ll be there and Prongs’ll give us shit if we smoke here.”
“Ok.” Remus pretended to go reluctantly. Secretly he was thrilled that:
Sirius was worried about him, and;
Sirius wanted to spend time alone with him without waking up James.
The fact that the offered cigarettes came from Sirius’s current girlfriend was a fact Remus was willing to overlook for now. Downstairs, they settled by the window, on the little loveseat there. Both drew their knees up and sat facing each other, so that if Remus stretched just a little their toes would touch.
“So,” Sirius sucked in, lighting a cigarette wordlessly then passing it to Remus, before lighting his own. It was probably something that impressed girls. It impressed Remus too, but he wasn't going to show it. “What's the plan?”
“Plan?” Remus frowned.
“You’ve been up all night for the past three nights and you haven’t got a plan?! Are you sure you’re Moony??”
“I want to go back to The Hog’s Head.” Remus said, promptly.
Sirius let his eyes flicker, but took this news in slowly. He exhaled smoke, looking out of the dark window at the waning moon above them before returning to Remus to speak.
“Right. Ok, I think I can understand why.” He took a hard drag on his cigarette, “Invisible?”
“No.” Remus shook his head, taking short, nervous pulls on his fag, “No, if they’re there – if she’s there, then I want to meet her.”
