A/N This is short but I tried combining it with the next chapter and it was bulky at best and bloody ginormous at worst. Plus my life has exploded into a cycle of sleep, work, sleep, work once more and I felt like I should try and pump something out before 2022 :) Thank you again for faves and follows! Special thanks to anyone who's reviewed because hearing your thoughts on this is always awesome, and if I haven't replied to you already I will attempt to in the next couple of days! (Also I feel like Bella's work anguish in this chapter somewhat mirrors my own, clearly accidental author insertion... oops?)


September 19, 10:34 am

Bloody hell. Just got marks back for our first Transfiguration essay and I only managed an A.

An A. A for acceptable. After Remus helped me extensively on the bloody thing, all that can be said about it is that it was acceptable.

At least everyone looks as miserable as I do.

10:47 am

"An E though," Charlie moans, flicking her wand half heartedly, attempting to conjure a quill. "Do you remember how long I worked on that essay?"

Can't say that I do. Charlie works so hard on every project that her individual efforts have blurred into a single image of her chained to a desk, nose squashed to a scroll of parchment, 24/7.

I discretely look at Remus who is sitting a few rows in front – he looks glum, too.

10:49 am

What if he looks glum because of our almost snog?

10:51 am

The more logical explanation would definitely be getting a crap mark on the essay. Stop worrying, Bella!

10:54 am

Still. What if he's sitting there, wondering how he can tell me nicely that he could never date someone so ugly/terrible at transfiguration and with such ridiculous friends/underwear?

10:56 am

Charlie looks over my shoulder at what I'm writing and rolls her eyes. "You're not ugly. And you should probably date someone who's in it for more than your transfiguration skills."

"Why, because I don't have any?"

She rolls her eyes again briefly but then squeals in delight when a quill appears in front of her.

Bitch. Have got nothing to show for this lesson.

11:03 am

McGonagall just caught me writing and said, "you might actually have something to show for this lesson, Miss Trower, if you spent as much time focused on spell work as you did on writing in that journal."

Need to perfect a word concealment charm.

11:06 am

"Or maybe," Charlie suggests, looking over my shoulder for a second time, "you should just give up writing in your journal so much?"

"And how will I moan about Remus Lupin then?" I ask.

She doesn't answer. I suspect she may be making a point about moaning less about Remus Lupin, but I refuse to acknowledge such things.

12:57 pm

Okay, so, maybe Charlie does have a point. You know, a little one.

We now have two transfiguration essays due on Friday. Each of them look as difficult as the one Remus helped me with. Am still behind on charms due to my hangover-of-doom consuming all of Sunday. Professor Sprout wants us to spend an extra hour in the green rooms once class has finished of an afternoon and I have also acquired two hours worth of Astronomy charting for this evening.

1:56 pm

And now Lily Evans has swapped around my prefect duty times.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

2:57 pm

Am actually going to cry.

Have a twenty-page essay due for history of magic.

On Wednesday.

Forgot about it entirely until Professor Binns reminded us as we all walked out the door. Would have missed the announcement completely (Binns' monotonous tone is infamous) except someone actually fainted at the prospect of more work and had to be carted off to the hospital wing.

6:33 pm

Executive decision: am giving up journal writing for a week.

"You'll die," Jeremy mutters, without even looking up from his soup.

"Yes, what if Remus Lupin looks at you?" Joyce smirks.

Ignore her. Haven't forgiven her. May never forgive her.

"I won't die," I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm going to become as diligent as Charlie. You won't be able to tell us apart."

"Well, we will, because you'll be the one still at dinner at half six when Charlie left twenty minutes ago," Jeremy says shortly.

Honestly, how can one expect me to scoff dinner in ten minutes flat? Dessert doesn't even come out until twenty past!

Will show stupid friends. Can eat as much food as I want and still be diligent. Will give up journal writing until next Sunday, they'll see and they'll be sorry.

12:44 am

Oh bugger it. It's too hard. At this rate am never going to get to sleep and surely getting these sanity chipping thoughts out of head will be better for academic performance in the long run?

Went to library tonight. Wanted to prove to friends that I was serious about my claims and settle the ill feeling I had about the amount of work I had to do.

There was no added bonus of seeing Remus and gauging his reaction to our unfortunate Saturday evening. Nope. None at all.

Arrived at half eight so I wasn't surprised that Remus was already there, settled in to his work. Our eyes locked as I approached the desks in the center of the room and, although I'm paranoid I've imagined it entirely, it seemed like he was almost blushing.

"Hi," I said softly, placing my books carefully on the desk next to his.

"Hi," he replied, eyes alight (again, am I imagining it? Did I make it up in my head retrospectively? Perhaps he was tearing up from the sheer difficulty of having to look at me?)

"Sorry about Saturday night-"

"No, please," he interrupted me, turning to face me as I sat down, "I should apologise for not being more help. There's a life mantra that goes "nothing good ever comes from listening to Sirius Black" and I'm pretty sure I highlighted why on Saturday."

I smirked for a moment and then frowned when the thought dawned on me. "Speaking of, aren't you meant to be in detention?"

"Already had it," he sighed. "Can't say it's come at a good time."

Thinking of all the work we had due, I felt doubly guilty. "I'm really sorry, if Joyce hadn't-"

"Really, Bella, it's fine, it's not your fault, McGonagall would have found me regardless. I did the wrong thing by sending everyone to bed in the first place. Again, exemplifying the notion that nothing good ever comes from listening to Sirius Black."

He smiled at me genuinely and my breath caught in my throat. How did I find him so handsome? I knew objectively he wasn't nearly as attractive as Sirius and yet whenever I saw him he made me feel like I'd been hit with the jelly-legs curse.

I registered that he was still looking at me, lips pressed into a polite yet strained smile. I'm not one for blushing but I'm sure I wasn't far from it.

He opened his mouth slightly as if to say something else. I inwardly begged, inwardly screamed, "just ask me to go for a walk around the great lake some time. Or anywhere. I'll walk off the astronomy tower, just ask."

"Remus?"

We both looked up. Am sure I must have looked like an idiot, responding to a name that is not my own, mouth hanging open in horror that someone was interrupting us again.

It was Lily Evans. Perky bint. (Shouldn't be so derogatory because she's a lovely person but bloody hell, the timing with these people...)

"Have you got that potions textbook we were using last week?" she asked, running a hand through her perfect, red hair in agitation

It gives me some kind of sick satisfaction that even people like Lily Evans (who Slughorn is practically besotted with) are distressed about the amount of work we have due in the next week.

It should probably make me more distressed than anything, because if Lily Evans isn't coping, I haven't the faintest how I'm going to survive.

"No, sorry, ask Madame Pince?" Remus suggested.

She wandered away, muttering to herself. Again with the sick satisfaction that should be distress, clearly am a terrible person.

Remus smiled at me briefly as she went, but quickly turned back to studying, as if he'd had nothing to say at all. Cursed Lily Evans again before I decided I should probably welcome the study time.

We didn't speak again until the library closed at 11. As we were packing up we commiserated quietly about the amount of work we still had left to do.

"Oh fuck," I muttered, "I've completely forgotten prefect duty. I'll have to do that now."

He didn't respond for a moment, fishing in his pocket. Producing a crumpled packet of chocolate, he offered it to me with a smile. "Take this, it'll help."

Instant jelly legs.

"Thank you," I mumbled, accepting it slowly. Our fingers brushed and it happened again: his mouth opened hesitantly, eyes flickering down to where our hands were almost interlocked, looking very much like he wanted to ask me something important.

"See you tomorrow?" he asked finally, his hand releasing the chocolate to pull his bag strap higher over his shoulder.

I nodded with a tight smile, letting him walk out of the library in front of me.

Merlin. Writing that didn't help at all.

How many more times will this happen before he gets the courage to ask me out? Isn't he meant to be from Gryffindor here? Friends with some fairly boisterous people? Not over laden with female attention but still perfectly capable of engaging with girls, regardless?

Am never getting to sleep. May as well get up and do the History of Magic essay.

Seriously though, how many more times will almost kisses and almost questions occur before he manages to ask me out? Because am not sure my bodily systems can handle the insult that is Remus Lupin much longer.