Sirius
The whimperings coming from Remus' bed wake me. I sigh. He's having another bad dream. He never has told me what exactly happens in these dreams, and I never ask. Poor Remus has been plagued with these nightmares ever since first year, but only at the start of this year have I ever done anything about it.
As quietly as always, I sit up and pull back the curtains of my bed. The brightness of the room astonishes me, the light of the almost-full moon shining through a window, filling the dorm. Remus dreams more frequently the closer it gets to the full moon. I pad over to his bed and slowly draw back the bed hangings.
He's lying on his side, his cheek smooshed by his pillow. His eyebrows knotted and his button nose scrunched, he looks afraid. Light pink lips are pursed slightly. The normal tan of his face and golden of his eyebrows is doused by moonlight.
I crawl in beside him slowly, as to not wake him up. I succeed. As soon as I am under the sheets, his face begins to relax, until it is serene. I continue to stare, watching him in slumber was very interesting.
His soft, tawny hair sticks up in strange places, and if Remus were awake, he would be appalled. Remus always styled his hair with a bit of Muggle hair gel, trying to obtain that 'wind blown' look, as he called it. He hadn't taken a shower last night, so the hair gel clumped in his hair, making it a bit greasy. It sort of reminds me of Snivellus' locks.
As he sleeps, he breaths in through his nose, and exhales with a little puff of hair out of his mouth. He drools a little in his sleep, the clear saliva collecting at the corner of his mouth until it inevitably will fall down his face to his pillow.
My eyes are getting rather droopy now, and I think that I will stay here tonight, like I normally do. I twist around, and pull close the curtains until no more moonlight shines through. My eyes automatically close, and I am teetering on the very edge of consciousness, so I am not quite sure if it is a dream or not when I hear Remus whisper, "Thank you."
The next morning, I feel the movement of someone jostling the bed, simultaneously waking me up. As my mind begins to clear, I realize that it is just Remus, and I know that this is my cue to get back to my own bed to avoid James', Peter's, and Adam's questioning eyes of why I am in a dorm mate's bed.
Remus pays no attention to me as he compiles his toiletries and I very ungraciously make my way back to my own bed.
As soon as my face hits my pillow, I'm asleep again.
Later, in History of Magic, my thoughts begin to wander. I mean, it's not as if my thoughts don't always wander during History of Magic, what with Professor Binns being the most boring teacher on the planet, but it is interesting what my thoughts are wandering to.
My current thoughts are set on my werewolf friend. Yes, the young Remus Lupin. We aren't really the best of friends, but we are still friends, nonetheless. He is very polite and proper, and smart and studious. He keeps to himself a lot, and is very guarded. James and I have tried to get past the barriers of his mind, but it's difficult to when the person is trying so hard to keep you out.
I don't really know that much about him, except that he is a werewolf and a very shy one at that. He won't tell any of us about his home life or about the wolf inside of him. He is very good at magic, though. Like James and I, he doesn't really have to work hard, magic flows through his veins, him being a dark creature and all. But, of course, I don't think of him as a dark creature, not at all. He is actually a very sweet bloke, which is why I like to help him with his pre-full moon nightmares. James and I would never admit this, but we feel protective over him. He is so scrawny and skittish, that we sort of take pity on him when a Slytherin is picking on his for being a half-blood, or when my git cousin, seventh year Narcissa Black knocks his books out of his arms in the corridors. We have no problem with hexing the daylights out of anyone who is mean to our pathetic werewolf friend.