He'd woken up screaming again. It was the first time he'd done that since arriving at Hogwarts, and he'd hoped against hope that it wouldn't happen here, that he'd leave it behind, the way he'd left behind his security blanket and all other childish things. And anyway, Remus Lupin had enough about him that was unusual and suspicious without adding to the list.

His dormmates all woke up, of course. Before he'd even fully processed what had happened, he heard voices, fumbling, and what sounded like James Potter swearing. Remus was sitting upright, his body stiff and trembling, though he didn't remember getting up. His three friends were all in various states of wakefulness. James looked particularly groggy, his hands fumbling around his nightstand for his glasses without success, and his hair in even more disarray than usual. Peter Pettigrew was blinking blearily, fighting back blankets in an attempt to sit up, his round face nonplussed. Sirius Black, on the other hand, was already kneeling on his bed, his sharp gray eyes focused intensely on Remus. Remus was unable to hold his gaze and looked quickly away.

It was Sirius that spoke first, though, Remus was relieved to hear, not to him. "Honestly, Potter, was that really necessary?"

"I think my ears are bleeding," Peter mumbled through a very forceful yawn. "You k-kiss your mum with that mouth?"

Sirius snorted, and James, though still unable to locate his glasses, managed to swipe a pillow off his bed and chuck it at Peter. Peter was still too asleep to dodge the blow, and it hit him full in the face.

"Well, pardon my French, but it sounded like someone was being murdered," James grumbled. "What the bloody hell happened?"

Remus suddenly realized that the eyes of all three of his friends were fixed on him. He was very glad it was dark, because he could feel the heat rising in his face and he was sure he had turned as red as his crimson bed hangings.

"'S nothing," Remus mumbled, trying to ignore Sirius' intense gaze. "I—I just had a bad dream, that's all. S-sorry. Go back to sleep."

"Give a bloke a heart attack, Lupin," James muttered, disappearing underneath his blankets again. In another moment, Peter was sprawled across his own pillow, as well as the one that James had thrown at him, snoring loudly.

Remus was just as tired as they were; even after his panic of several moments ago, he could already feel his eyelids drooping. He didn't want to go back to sleep, though, not yet. He didn't want to risk reentering the same dream, to relive childhood memories that he would give absolutely anything in the world to forget.

He felt his bed shift, and as he blinked again, his eyes refocused on Sirius sitting on the end of his bed. Sirius was something of a mystery to Remus; even after three months of being friends, Sirius was constantly surprising him. For one thing, he would not have pinned Sirius as being the one of his three new friends to be showing the most concern. Even if, to everyone's surprise, he had been made a Gryffindor, he was still a Black—having been raised with every privilege, he was often entitled, selfish, and quite often oblivious (or blatantly uncaring) of other people's feelings. And yet here he was, sitting with him on his bed after a silly nightmare.

"You sure you're okay?" Sirius asked, not bothering to whisper. It was obvious that James and Peter would not be waking up again any time soon. "Potter wasn't joking, I thought someone was dying. . . ."

"I'm fine." His voice came out smaller and weaker than he'd meant it to. Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

"Really? Because it sounded bad even before you started screaming bloody murder—you were rolling around, and muttering, and stuff. . . ."

Remus felt an icy drop of fear. Sirius' expression was neutral, so Remus couldn't imagine that he had said anything he shouldn't have in his sleep, but still, the thought was terrifying.

"Really, Sirius, it was just a bad dream. I'm fine now."

"Then why are you still shaking?"

It took him a moment to register that Sirius' words were true, and that his arms were indeed shaking violently. Remus took a deep breath and tried to hold them steady, but he couldn't. He still had images of blood and teeth and matted fur flitting through the back of his mind. Sometimes they showed up with crystal clearness, and it brought on a new tremor every time.

"Sirius—"

"Hey, listen." Sirius looked a little uncomfortable. "I could stay up with you, you know, if you want. Just until you fall back asleep." He hesitated, and then continued quickly, as though he felt the need to justify himself, "I do it with my brother all the time—he has lots of bad dreams."

Remus wondered if he knew that Sirius had a brother. He thought that maybe he had mentioned it, way back at the beginning of the term. At this moment, Sirius didn't seem entitled or selfish or oblivious at all—he seemed nervous, an uncommon expression for the boy.

It was probably that nervous look, not to mention the fact that Remus was rapidly dropping off to sleep again and he was desperate to fight that off, which caused Remus to say, "Okay."

Sirius grinned and scooted up to the top of the bed, muttering, "Budge over." Remus did so obligingly, and the two boys sat side by side with their backs against the headboard.

"I suppose you don't want to tell me what you were dreaming about," said Sirius casually, after a moment's silence.

Remus shook his head vigorously. No, he certainly didn't, and he hoped that none of his friends ever learned what sorts of things he dreamed about.

Sirius didn't seem bothered, though. "Yeah, Reg never does, either. Guess he just doesn't want to think about it. . . ."

Remus worked hard to stifle a yawn. Sleep was just so insistent. . . . "Reg is your brother?"

Sirius nodded, staring at something at the end of the bed. "Yeah. Regulus."

"Does he have bad dreams a lot?"

"Yeah, all the time. My room's right across the hall from his, so he'd always come to me whenever he was scared. Usually I'd just talk to him about Quidditch until he fell asleep again. Do you have any siblings?" Remus shook his head, and Sirius shrugged. "Well, that's probably just as well. They're a right nuisance, sometimes. Plus you don't have to share your parents with them, or worry about who's the favorite. . . ."

Sirius broke off abruptly and stared at the end of the bed again. Remus yawned again, and didn't manage to hide it this time. His eyes were burning from the strain of holding themselves open.

"Yeah, but I'm sure that having a brother is nice, too. You have someone to play with, and to talk to. And you get to help your brother out when he's scared."

"Yeah, I guess." Sirius didn't seem convinced.

Everything in the room was starting to get darker, and quieter, like it was fading out. When Remus spoke, he felt like his voice was coming from miles away. "Maybe if you didn't have to share parents with your brother it would make things easier. . . ."

He heard Sirius snort. "Yeah, but the only way you can have a brother is if you share parents with them, genius."

Well, it seemed like the old Sirius was back. Remus was too far gone to sleep to feel stung by his sarcasm, though. But before Remus completely drifted off, he felt like there was something else he needed to say to his friend, but he wasn't sure what.

"Sirius," he said finally, and Sirius started, obviously believing that Remus had already fallen asleep.

"What?"

Remus struggled to keep his words clear and un-slurred. "My nightmares are always about werewolves. I've had dreams about them since I was little."

His eyes had already slid closed, so he didn't see Sirius' face, but he did feel a slight pressure on his shoulder.

The next morning, James apologized for his attitude the night before, and both he and Peter asked Remus how he had slept.

"Fine—I slept just fine."

Later that afternoon, as they were exiting their last class of the day and making a beeline for the grounds, where they were planning an epic snowball fight, Remus thought of something. He turned to Sirius as James and Peter chattered about some comic book they'd been reading during History of Magic.

"Hey, why were you awake last night, anyway?"

Sirius didn't miss a beat. "I'm a light sleeper. All your rolling around woke me up."

"Hey, Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you miss Regulus?"

Sirius glanced at James and Peter before responding. They were still wrapped up in their conversation and not paying attention to the other two boys at all.

"Yeah. I do."

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?" Sirius' expression had turned mildly exasperated, but Remus knew he didn't mean it, because he could see him fighting back a grin.

"Er, thanks. For last night."

Sirius shoved him playfully. "Don't mention it. Now come on, let's get outside. I can't wait to chuck a snowball at Potter's face."

"Hey! I heard that!"

James and Sirius bickered the whole way to the entrance hall, and only stopped when they stepped out the enormous front doors. They all shoved snow in each others' faces, laughing and yelling louder than Remus could ever remember doing in his life, and for once, Remus' nightmares were the absolute furthest thing from his mind.