𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍; 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫.

𝐯. 𝐢𝐭❜𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬.

𝐭𝐰: 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞.

also...

𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐭❜𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭❜𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮❜𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍. Amara, pleased with how shallow and harmless the cut on her side turned out to be, had practically pranced down the stairs from her dorm, excited to see the boys. Her long, messy blonde hair was pulled into a low ponytail, with the front curls twisting out and framing her face. She'd taken the time to line her striking eyes carefully, and had, as an afterthought, thrown on some concealer in the hopes of hiding last night's adventures and her fatigue following them. 

She stood, leaning on the wall right in front of a window, elbow resting on the plushy red armchair beside it, eyes trained on the stairs to the boys dormitory. A raucous laughter signaled the boys' approach, and Amara grinned expectantly. 

However, her excitement was soon short-lived. Only three boys—a welcome sight though they were—appeared at the top of the stairs, arms around each other and eyes alight. The familiar profiles of Sirius, James, and Peter came into focus. 

Amara approached the bottom of the stairs, eyes inquiring. "Remus?" 

James shook his head grimly. "Not today."

"Shit," she muttered, looking at the other two. All of them looked rather banged up, save for Peter. "Well...we might as well go on down to breakfast."

The Great Hall was just as cheery as normal, and if Amara were more awake and alert, she would frown at how the bright atmosphere seemed to be poking fun at her and her bleary-eyed friends. She couldn't remember for the life of her when Fridays at Hogwarts had been so optimistic, ever. 

At the other end of the Hall, Evan Rosier—flanked by Regulus Black and Mulciber—walked in, dressed rather casually for a school day. His white shirt was crumpled, his hair was messed up, and his green tie was draped around his neck, not yet tied. 

A hot flash jolted through Amara as the previous events (concerning the shower, her vivid imagination, and some rather skilled fingers) relayed through her mind. Her cheeks flushed a deep, ugly red—shame welling up inside, nearly overflowing. Amara tore her gaze from him and fixed her eyes on the table, barely comprehending the conversation her friends were supplying. 

What the hell am I even doing? she thought, stabbing some bacon with her fork. Never thought I'd go so low as to think of him during that... Amara shuddered, ruling it out as a moment of weakness; never to occur again. 

Satisfied with the product of her inner debate, she turned her attention back to the boys around her. Sirius, eyes closed indignantly, was folding his arms and shaking his head.