No Control // Wolfstar

Twenty Four

A slam echoes down a fourth floor corridor, startling Frances Berkshire. Peering around the corner, her eyes land on Remus Lupin. His clothes are disheveled as he hastily stalks away. Only seconds later does the door reopen, and Abigail McHealy slithers out and departs the opposite way.

Odd.

Deciding not to comment on it, she continues on the way to her History of Magic class. It's her favorite class this year - though not necessarily because of the lessons. Her hair is in a loose, low ponytail, the pink ribbon tied but loosely hanging to blend with her curled locks. Students file into the classroom, taking their assigned seats. Just as she arrives at the door, a group of Slytherins stand near the entrance laughing.

"Guys let's get out of the way," a boy speaks.

The group of boys grumble a repose, but do as suggested and shuffle into the classroom.

Frances trails behind them when a hand reaches out to hold the door open. "Thanks," she says meekly, meeting the boy's striking lobelia blue eyes.

The boy doesn't acknowledge her, hurrying to return to his group of friends. Unbothered, Frances takes her seat in the middle of the room, neatly pulling out her things. The same boy sits one row up and one to the right. His dark black hair falls with a wave, shaggy yet put together. It wasn't too long, reaching just to his ears with a luscious flow. Frances gazes longingly at the boy in front of her. He's popular, mysterious. Everything that she's not.

She tears her eyes away from him hopelessly.

What would a guy like Regulus Black see in a girl like her?

*

*

*

A small plastic bag lands on top of Sirius' lap. Under the bright white light from James' wand, he holds it up, carefully inspecting the contents. James crosses his arms with a mischievous smirk, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"Really?" Sirius questions with interest. "Where'd you nick this from?"

"Professor Sprout's cupboard. It's been charmed, too."

"Brilliant."

"Come on, then, everyone's asleep now."

Sirius slips his feet into his beaten red slippers, grabbing his wand and a blanket. Peter is sound asleep with his left foot dangling off the bed while the rest his body tucked cozily beneath his covers. On the other side of the room, Remus sleeps closed off from the rest of them. The entire day he'd been rather distant, as a matter of fact. He hadn't even showed up at dinner.

"How do you suppose we smoke this?" Sirius asks joining James in the common room.

"I don't know, I've never done it before. What about you?"

"Well...no." Sirius frowns. "But I've seen it done."

"Suppose we just light it on fire?"

"That's ridiculous. Maybe we should put it in an apple."

"Good idea! Do you have one?"

Sirius extracts his wand, pointing it at the table. In a second a bright red apple is conjured from thin air. "Now I do." He picks it up, carefully turning it in his hands. "Alright, give me a second." He holds his wand precisely, carving small incisions into it. James nabs the fallen bits, silently munching on them as Sirius concentrates. "Voila."

James hands the bag to Sirius and he places a gram into the hole.

"Fire," Sirius says holding out his hand.