I would like to take this moment to give my utmost thanks to everyone who's been so supportive of me. It's truly appreciated. Honestly. (ooh, and thank you, Unicorn Lady, for giving me an idea for this bit… you'll know it when you read it)
Also, my apologies, but this is another one of those "ACK! NOW WHAT!?" kinda endings… I wanted to post this last night, but I didn't finish it before my brother got the computer. *grumbles* At any rate, the next part will be up very shortly---I promise!
Jk rowling owns everyone but casey and remus. He's already taken. :)
Chapter Twenty-Five: Reasons Why You Don't Chew on the End of a Quill & the Dance Pt. 1
The week of the dance was also the week of finals. Snape had assigned a particularly nasty potion that had to be precise or it'd end up like powder (which earned poor Neville an D). But in DADA, all we had to do was write an essay on anything we had covered in class. Easy enough. When I went to turn the paper in, Remus' eyes focused on mine and our fingers brushed as the parchment exchanged hands.
"How are you, Casey?"
"I'm good. Thank you." I withdrew my hand, feeling guilty. "How're you?"
"Good." He set the essay down (it was the second one finished, after Hermione's) "All ready for the dance tonight?"
"Sure."
"I assume you're going with Harry?" his voice was too controlled, too even to be natural. I flushed, realizing he sounded jealous.
"No."
"No?" he looked up, not even bothering to hide his surprise.
"I'm going with Neville."
His eyes darted to the corner where Neville, head bent laboriously over his essay, was chewing on the end of his quill. Even as we both watched, he started to cough, pulling a feather out of his mouth and shaking his head. "Oh, really."
"He's a sweetheart!" I said defensively, but before I could say anything else, Neville's hand shot up in the air.
"Professor Lupin! May I please get a drink of water—I think I swallowed part of my pen!"
As Lupin, grinning madly, turned his eyes back to me, all I could do was cover my own eyes with a hand.
"Go ahead, Mr. Longbottom."
Neville's chair scraped across the floor and he hurried out, flashing Lupin a grateful smile. Remus lowered his head to concentrate on stacking papers. "Well it will certainly be an interesting evening."
I bit my lower lip and turned my eyes skyward. "That's almost guaranteed."
"I'll try to look for you to say hi."
"Alright."
Neville had returned by then, so I simply went back to my seat. Neville was a sweetheart, and just because he was slightly… absent-minded… meant nothing.
Yet, even with that thought determinedly kept in the front of my mind, I couldn't help but stifle a giggle whenever my eyes met with Lupin's. Without a doubt, it would surely be a night I'd never forget.
"Oooh….I'm so excited, I'm all shaky!" Hermione gushed, adjusting the top of her cute little strapless gown. "Look at this!" She held out her hand to illustrate her nerves at work. I put a hand on her shoulder.
"It's just Harry, Herm. The guy you see every single day. No biggie."
"Maybe not to you…" she sighed dramatically. "But to me, it's a huge deal."
I shook my head, grinning, and turned to pull my dress on. It was a Medieval styled dress with the split skirt at the bust, revealing the layers of silk underneath. It had long sleeves that ended with a sparkling hem, and was off-the-shoulders, which caused me some alarm due to my slightly smaller than average chest size, but Hermione had shown me a charm that kept it in one place. (thankfully). She had curled my hair and pinned half of it back with glittery clips, and I had done hers in a French braid. We complimented each other a few times before taking deep breaths to head downstairs.
All of the Gryffindor guys were waiting in the Common Room, milling about aimlessly, trying not to look too nervous. As the first of us trickled downstairs, they all stopped talking to watch us. It was very embarrassing. Fortunately, Harry, Ron, and Neville had stationed themselves close to the stairs and we didn't have to walk far.
"Wow," Harry murmured as I walked by him to Neville. "You clean up good."
"Thanks." I rolled my eyes, then smiled brightly at Neville. "You look nice, Neville."
"So do you," He offered me a white rose, flushing bright red as it promptly became entangled in a loose thread in his sleeve. The next five minutes were spent trying to untangle the rose without deraveling his robe, with both of us looking extremely embarrassed.
"Are you two ready, yet!?" Ron asked impatiently, tapping his foot. His date, a sixth-year Ravenclaw named Gail (who, Harry had confided in me earlier, was extremely well-endowed, wink wink) was supposed to be meeting us downstairs, and he didn't want to make her wait.
Finally untangled, we all headed to the Great Hall, bewitched into a sparkling wonder-land. The gigantic Christmas tree in the corner was the brightest light in the whole room, but dozens and dozens of sparkling candles floated everywhere. The ceiling was a deep navy blue, filled with millions of twinkling stars, and the floor seemed to be a swirling mist of lavenders, blues, and golden clouds. The tables, covered with crimson and forest green cloth, were bedecked with lilies, holly, and each napkin had been meticulously folded into swans. ("No doubt another unpaid service provided by the House Elves," sniffed Hermione, much to my confusion)
We were almost the first ones in, so we claimed a table and waited for the rest of the school to wander in. Gail was near the end (which irked Ron) but she seemed nice enough as she exchanged "oohs" and "awwws" with me and Hermione over how lovely everything looked.
After the last student had found their way to a table, Professor Dumbledore stood up to make a few announcements. Basic stuff, about how pleased he was to see all of us looking so nice. Not to show any disrespect to him or anything, but for most of his speech, I had my eyes fastened on Lupin. He was wearing a black robe over a dark blue collared shirt and tan pants. He looked uncomfortable, as well as his neighbor, Snape. But Snape looked sour and uncomfortable. At least Lupin managed to appear pleasant.
"Would the 7th years like to start things going?" Dumbledore asked, to the applauding and cheering of the rest of the students. We all stood, making our way to the huge area reserved for dancing. The soft, colorful blur of cloud-like smoke, reflected with the hundreds of candles, enveloped us as music wafted through the air from the back of the Great Hall (where a very motley looking band had been set up), beginning the Holiday Dance.
To give Neville credit, he did try. Honestly. And I wasn't much of a dancer anyways. So between the two of us, we decided to sit the next few songs out. It was nice to watch everyone else dancing, anyway. Especially Ron, who, it seemed, had picked up a few moves from his crazy brothers. Gail had lost her sweet demeanor, and was looking rather annoyed at the scene her date was making. Harry and Hermione danced very well together, but from the looks Harry kept shooting towards the table, Herm was the only one enjoying it.
"You hungry?" Neville asked, looking anxious for something to do to make sure I was enjoying myself.
"Sure." I smiled warmly as he hurried off to find something to eat. Seconds after he had left, I was visited by a less welcome face.
"You surprised me, American," Snape muttered. "I'd have thought for sure you and Potter would be dancing together."
"I'm full of surprises," I said lightly, not feeling in the mood to heckle him.
"I can imagine."
"I'll have to admit, you surprise me, too, Potions Man. I'd have never thought you'd come to a dance---and looking so dressed up!"
He smiled wryly. "Good to know that fancy dress and hair-do of yours hasn't kept the smart-ass American I know so well from coming tonight."
"Do you have a mission in life to make me angry?"
"Why? Is it working?"
"NO!" I crossed my hands over my chest and pretended to be engrossed in the dancers. But I couldn't help but shoot a glance over to him, trying to figure out why he was still standing there.
"Where's your beloved Remus when you need someone to dance with?" Ah, the taunting never stopped here at Hogwarts.
"I wouldn't know," I answered hotly. "Seriously, do you need something? Cause you're really killing the mood."
"What mood is that?" he asked, smirking. "The 'I-dressed-up-to-impress-someone-and-now-I'm-going-to-sit-here-at-this-table-in-the-dark-and-not-dance-for-the-rest-of-the-night-because-I-don't-want-them-to-think-I'm-trying-to-impress-them' mood you seem to be radiating?"
I scowled. "For your information, I have every intention of dancing tonight!"
"Oh really? So what's stopping you?"
"I don't see you dancing, Potions Man! So stop being such a cursed hypocrite and leave me alone!!"
"I don't dance," he sniffed.
"Aha! At last-an admission of ignorance! Miracles do happen!" I threw my hands up in the air in praise.
"I never said I couldn't dance," he growled. "I simply stated that I don't dance."
"Sure." I rolled my eyes. "Just like I don't pee standing up, right? I mean, it's not that I couldn't, it's just that I choose not to."
If looks could kill… He was furious. "Dammnit, American—one of these days, that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble."
"These boots weren't made for walking," I sang, purposely acting strange in order to peeve him.
"That's it!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of my chair roughly, fingers digging tightly into my flesh.
"Hey!" I stumbled over the chair, sending it reeling as I clamped a hand to my arm, trying to pry his nails out of my skin. "What the heck are you doin'!?"
His face set in a ferocious glare, he pulled me to the dance floor and dug his fingers into my waist. "I'm showing you what happens when you question my authority!" he snapped.
I finally realized what was going on. "Waaiiiittt! Uh uh… No way!"
"If I hear one more word out of that mouth of yours, I swear you'll be moving boxes for the remainder of your holiday!"
I closed my mouth, but set it in a defiant frown as he jerkily tried to keep time with the music. Everyone dancing past us gave me raised eyebrows and smirks at the Potions Teacher trying to dance.
"So this is you're big, glitzy dance routine you've been holding back on, eh?" I joked, trying to loosen his death-grip on my fingers.
"Quiet!" he snapped, lips forming numbers as he counted his steps.
I rolled my eyes skyward, inadvertently landing on the Head Table. Remus was sitting, eyes narrowed, watching me and Snape. My breath caught in my throat, and I unconsciously tightened my grip on Snape's shoulder. The look on his face, the way he was staring at us, was so piercing, I felt as if I were a guilty kid being caught eating cookies before dinner. I had seen that look before, so many times, on Snape's face—but it had always been when Remus had bested him in some way, and earned the recognition or praise between the two. A look of bitter, heated, jealous anger. On Snape, it seemed like a second nature. But on Remus, my beautiful, sweet and endearing Remus, who never uttered a negative word about anyone, it was the most uncharacteristic expression he could possibly wear.
His gaze shifted and stared at me head-on. I blinked, trying to understand what was going on behind those hazel eyes. He continued to stare at me, still frowning, for a very long moment before he finally turned his head. I bit my lip, eyes lowering to his hands, where his swan napkin had been brutally torn to shreds. Confused, I lifted my eyes back to his face, and was shocked to see him watching me again, his expression non-changing.
Once again, I clenched Snape's shoulder tighter than intended, and I was forced to refocus my eyes on his angry face and mumble an apology. By the time I had looked back to Remus, he was gone.
The song ended (thankfully) soon after that.
"I'll admit it, Potions Man—you danced pretty decent for a bitter old man." I pulled away and gave him a half-smile. "Maybe now you should work on that expression of yours. Grrrr!"
"And I'll admit, American—you've surprised me once again. Your mother would be very proud of you."
My mouth dropped open. Snape. Giving me a compliment? He was obviously repulsed by the same thought, because he made a hasty retreat towards the buffet table, leaving me alone in the strands of swirling mist.
Chapter Twenty-Six: The Dance, continued
As the night wore on, I began to get worried. Neville had never come back after his initial trip to get food. And to make matters worse, every time Snape passed by me (which, I will steadfastly argue, he did purposely for the sole reason of mocking me) he would mutter "How's the mood, American?"
Ron was also feeling pretty rejected. Gail had stalked off on the arm of another man ("A stinkin' Slytherin, for God's sake!" Ron had wailed dramatically) after Ron refused to tone down his "dancing". He did manage to finagle a friend of his younger sister's to dance to with him a few times, however, which left me alone at the table for pretty much the majority of the evening.
Harry meandered over during Hermione's bathroom break. He didn't even bother with the formalities, just reached his hand out and smiled.
Eagerly following him out to the dance floor, I noticed with some alarm that the band was slowly winding down, meaning a slow song was on the horizon.
"You look great," Harry murmured, hand gently wrapped around my middle. I blushed, ducking my head.
"Thank you."
He smiled down at me softly. "Having fun?"
"Yea," I lied, forcing a smile. "Just wish I knew what happened to Neville."
He laughed, taking a step closer to me. "That's what happens when you ditch me for someone else."
"Hey now," I warned, laughing uneasily at his sudden closeness. "Neville's a good guy."
"Sure he is. But honestly?" he pulled a long black thread from the rose I had tucked behind my ear and arched an eyebrow. I shrugged.
"How's Herm?"
"She's fine," he shrugged back. "I'm surprised—she never seems to go for this kinda thing. But she's been up here, dancing all night."
"She looks beautiful tonight."
"She does," he agreed.
By then, Hermione had returned and was waiting impatiently at the side of the floor. I noticed and gave Harry an apologetic smile. "I think your date wants to cut in."
He obediently released my hand and stepped back, watching me make my way back to the table. "Thanks for the dance."
"Anytime."
So once again I was resigned to the empty table, chin cupped in my palm, trying to look like I was enjoying myself.
"Casey."
I turned, feeling my face go red. "Hello, Professor Lupin."
"Why're you sitting over here all by yourself?"
"Erm… Neville seems to have vanished." I said stupidly.
He didn't look surprised. "Are you having a good time?"
For some reason, I just understood that I could be honest with him. So I shook my head. "Not really. No fun getting dressed up and sitting alone."
He met my eyes, almost shyly. "You looked so beautiful, sitting over here by yourself. Like one of those women in the Medieval paintings."
"Only they have knights to come rescue them."
He pretended to be hurt. "Am I not wearing silver-erm, black armor!?"
I shrugged. "And they have exciting lives."
"I saw you dancing with Severus earlier—that had to be slightly thrilling."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't even get me started on that…"
We both laughed nervously. As the next song began playing, he tilted his head towards the dance floor.
"You, uh, wouldn't want to dance, would you?"
I couldn't help but stare at him in surprise. "I would love to." I finally managed to answer.
He offered me his arm, with a warm smile to accompany it. I grinned, linking my arm through his and allowing him to lead me to the dance floor.
"I'll have to warn you," he began, his hand resting on my waist while the other one interlocked with my fingers. "I'm not much of a dancer."
"That makes two of us," I smiled, holding to his shoulder tightly.
As we began to dance, I found myself drawn back to his eyes again and again. Despite my shyness around him, those eyes were so compelling, I couldn't look anywhere but.
"So… how've you been?" he asked, trying to break the nervous silence.
"I've been good." I finally said. "It's strange to see snow on the ground. Didn't have much of that back in Florida."
"I wouldn't think so." He laughed.
"How're you?"
"Fine. Thank you."
We danced on while I wracked my brain for something intelligent to say. But being so close, smelling that deep, musky aftershave he was wearing… Made it hard to think. Or stand up straight. And from the look in his eyes, his thoughts were somewhere along that same line.
"I…I want to tell you something, Casey," he said, his voice shaky. I realized we had stepped closer together, his hand tightening around my waist as I stared up at him, heart racing.
"I think I have something to tell you, too." I said softly.
He opened his mouth to speak, but he closed it again, looking torn. We had stopped dancing, but our hands remained locked together.
"Professor-"
"Remus," he corrected urgently.
"Remus… whatever it is, I'm listening."
We had moved even closer, mere inches apart. His free hand moved to my bare shoulder, brushing away a strand of hair. "I… I think that maybe I might be-"
"WATCH OUT!"
A sharp ping, followed by shouts of terror, suddenly filled the air. People around us began screaming, running in every direction, as the ill-timed Falcon Powder Bomb (much like stink bombs, I presume) began wafting out in every direction, but we stood rooted to the ground, alone in a room of hundreds.
"Think that maybe what?" I prodded, feeling light-headed as his fingers brushed back my hair.
"I think that maybe we should stop dancing," he pulled away abruptly, taking a step back, a wild, guilty look on his face. A hand went to his mouth, and for an alarming moment, I felt the absurd notion that he was going to be sick. "I'm sorry, Casey," He mumbled, pushing his way though the crowded dance floor and disappearing into the swirling colors. I was left alone, staring after him, with tears on my cheeks and a sinking, shameful guilt in my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Only One More Sleep 'Till Christmas
This chapter is dedicated to Kacee, because she's the one who wrote the original plot for it about a week ago. I'm just borrowing her idea and working it into the story 'cause it's the sweetest way for this to work out…
I avoided Lupin like the plague after that night. No matter what his reasoning behind his swift and sudden departure, I felt it was owed in part to me. I had done something—maybe the way I had looked, or acted… And he left me. It was a very depressing holiday.
On Christmas Eve, the four of us were all hanging out in the Gryffindor Common Room, in front of the fireplace.
"…then she had the nerve to tell me I had copied her notes! HA! As if I would ever copy! And her notes, of all the ones I could choose from!? HA!" Hermione was recounting a story from the finals (one we'd all heard about a dozen times already).
"Lemme guess-you told Professor Peyton, he gave her a D. Am I right!?" Ron grinned, beating her to the finish. She huffed angrily and leaned back, sticking her tongue out at Ron.
"You've been quiet lately," she pointed her chin in my direction. I looked up from my transfixion on the flames and gave her a questioning look.
"Maybe it's cause she's sick of hearing that story, too," Ron muttered.
"Do you feel ok?"
"Are you vomiting!?" Ron asked excitedly.
As they pummeled me with questions, my eyes met with Harry's. He wasn't asking questions-simply watching me. He'd been like that ever since the dance. Always watching me, as if seeing me for the first time. It was slightly unnerving.
"So, em… whaddya do here for Christmas Eve?" I asked suddenly, trying to break that uneasiness Harry instilled in me.
"Have a nice dinner. Stay up late. Open presents tomorrow." Ron shrugged. "Nothing too spectacular."
"There's gonna be a big snowball fight tonight-" Hermione added. "For everyone who's here. Even McGonagall is gonna go, I heard."
"Tonight? Won't it be too dark outside?" Harry asked, finally removing his green eyes from me.
"Oh, no, there's a full moon tonight," Hermione said airily, waving her hand. "It'll be bright as day out there."
"There's a full moon tonight?" Harry's eyes glanced over at me. But my head was lowered and my eyes were fixed on the carpet. A full moon tonight was nothing new to me—I had known about it since the last full moon.
"Aw, man, that's gotta suck for Lupin," Ron shook his head. "Being a werewolf? On Christmas Eve? Yuck."
"That's so sad," Hermione agreed. "I mean, it's bad enough to have to be a werewolf once a month—but to have it be on Christmas Eve? Poor Lupin."
I said nothing because I had said all of it to myself already.
"It's almost dark now—I wish I'd a known about this sooner—we could have gone to say hello earlier," Hermione fretted, looking out the window at the deepening dusk.
"Too late now." Harry shrugged, standing up. "But, we do still have time to get to dinner."
They all stood, but I remained in my seat, staring intently into the fireplace.
"You comin'?" Ron asked.
"Oh, no, go on ahead. I'm not very hungry." I said absently, not moving my eyes.
"Are you sure? It's gonna be a long night." Hermione said in her motherly tone.
"No, it's fine. I'll be good." I finally offered them a smile. She shrugged.
"Suit yourself. See ya later."
"Bye," I watched them crawl out of the portrait hole, my face flushing as Harry gave me one last stare. It was as if he knew what I was planning on doing, but didn't want to say anything. So he just gave me that look. The 'don't-do-something-stupid' look.
Once the portrait had swung shut again, I stood and went to the window. Bright reds and oranges danced over the snow, making it seem so unbelievable that someone I loved was only minutes away from being transformed into something inhuman. I leaned forward, my nose and forehead pressing against the glass, and tried to block the image of Lupin, transforming, hurt, scared, and all alone from my mind.
Closing my eyes in frustrated misery, it hit me. I'd go see him. I'd just run in really quick to see him before the moon rose, then come back. Maybe that would set my racing mind to rest. And while I was there… maybe then I could ask him what I had done to make him leave so hurriedly. Or at least try.
With a determined look, I crawled out of the portrait hole and nearly ran down the halls towards his room. Making sure no one (in particular, Snape) was in the hall, I knocked softly on his door.
"Who is it?" his voice, sounding worn and raspy, wafted through the door.
"It's, um… It's Casey," I told the door, doubts beginning to surface.
The door swung open in seconds, and I had to cover my mouth with my hand at the man I saw before me. Hunched over, seemingly in infinite pain, his hair was wild and unruly, his face unshaven with deep set circles under each eye. His shirt was half untucked, and one hand was holding his stomach.
"Casey-" he croaked. "What the hell are you doing here!? You have to leave-"
"I—I just needed to see…you…" I trailed off, an overwhelming feeling of pity washing over me. I had to grab hold of the doorframe to keep myself steady.
"Don't you realize—any minute…" he took a shaky breath. "Please leave."
"Professor---"
He grabbed my arm and pulled me inside so quickly, it took a moment to register the movement. He pushed me towards the wardrobe, and with a start, I realized his door was opening again.
Snape waltzed in with a triumphant grin lighting up his face just as I disappeared into the wardrobe. He said something in a low voice to Lupin, laughed, then performed a spell with his wand.
"Pleasant dreams, Lupin," he jeered, slamming the door shut behind him. There was a loud click, like a bolt being snapped across a lock.
"What did he-"
"Soundproofed the room." Lupin explained between jagged breaths. "Casey, please… I am begging you. You have to leave. Now, while I can still perform the spell to unlock the door--"
"I can't leave you all alone."
"Dammnit! I don't want you to see me…like this…" He grimaced, dropping to his knees. I kneeled beside him, putting an arm on his.
"Professor Lupin…"
He shook it off. "GO!"
"No." Said with such conviction, such clarity, I surprised myself. He turned a pair of bloodshot eyes to me with a pathetic look of pleading.
"Casey-"
"I am not leaving you."
He opened his mouth to say something more, but the moon had finally risen into the night sky. With a howl of pain, his head was thrown back, cords sticking up like rods as he began to transform. His clenched fists were forced open as they rounded themselves into claw-filled feet.
With a look of terror, I backed myself against the far wall, hand to my mouth as he was slowly turned from a man into a werewolf before my eyes. Screaming sobs of pain wracked my ears as it happened, and the next thing I knew, it was over. No longer was I in the room with Professor Lupin. I was in it with a werewolf.
For a moment, I was terrified. Despite my knowledge of how fake werewolf movies were, having one only feet away from you tended to make you rethink them. But then his head turned, and a pair of deep brown eyes looked straight at me, a recognition lighting up.
I managed to make it to my feet, but had to sink to the bed after a few steps. Lupin was watching me, looking at me as if to say 'I told you.'
"I had no idea it would hurt that much," I said softly, finally noticing how shaky I was. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. "I had no idea."
The brown eyes were filled with shame and pain. I could see the words in his mind.
Look at me. Look at the monster I am. Why couldn't you have allowed me one ounce of dignity by keeping this away from you?
Tears swelled in my eyes and began spilling over before I had a chance to control them. "You're not a monster," I whispered, shaking my head.
I don't know for sure how long we stayed like that, his eyes looking out through the body of a werewolf, meeting my own blurry, tear-filled ones. But it wasn't long before he had come to me, pressing his nose against my leg, as if to comfort me.
I sank to the floor, new tears flooding out. I hugged him tightly around the neck, crying into his fur as I tried to rid myself of all the painful emotions I had been harboring since the night he had left me at the dance.
When I could finally control myself, I pulled away. His nose nuzzled against me again in a reassuring manner, then he sat back on his haunches and tilted his head. The position was so Professor Lupin, I couldn't help but smile shakily.
"I don't suppose you have any way of talking to me?"
All I got was a shake of his head.
"Well… you can at least answer yes or no questions… That's something." I wrapped my arms around my knees and bit my lip. "Are you in pain right now?"
Shake.
"Do you ever get scared?"
There was a long pause. Then a nod.
"Does it hurt as much when you transform back?"
Shake.
I couldn't really think of any more questions. The room was getting darker, save for the luminance of the moon.
"I wish you could talk to me," I whispered softly, hugging my knees tighter. "Tell me what you're thinking."
He lowered his head to his front paws and watched me, not blinking. He looked so innocent and helpless, despite the fangs and claws. Like a big pet dog. I didn't want to know how different he'd be if Snape didn't make him the wolfs bane potion every month.
We sat, staring at each other, both lost in our own thoughts, for what seemed like hours. I didn't move until I head voices shouting from outside his window. His head perked up, ears turning themselves towards the noise, his nose trembling slightly. I put a hand on his neck and stood, slowly making my way over to the window. Peering out, I saw the snow ball fight Ron had been talking about earlier. It seemed the entire faculty was out there, along with the dozen or so students who had stayed on during Christmas.
Forehead pressed to the glass, I put a hand on the window frame and watched them, shouts and laughter ringing through the night, oblivious to Remus' plight. Lupin joined me, front paws on the windowsill, giving me an questioning look before turning to survey the madness below.
"Look—there's Harry—" I jabbed a finger at the window. "And Ron… Where's Herm-Oh. Doing homework. Figures." I grinned, shaking my head. "Hey—even Dumbledore is out there!"
His paw scratched at the glass, a low humming in his throat.
"What's the matter?"
His eyes narrowed, jerking his head towards the snowball fight, then nodding at me.
"Wha? I-I didn't want to go, though… I'd much rather be up here." I said quickly. He shot me a low look, then turned to pace around the room, making that low howling in the back of his throat.
"I mean that, Professor." I kneeled on the bed, an elbow still perched on the windowsill as I watched him pacing. "I don't regret doing this. No one should be alone on Christmas Eve. Including you."
He shook his head, giving me that look again, a look of self-pity and loathing.
"Don't even spend the night feeling sorry for yourself like that!" I said angrily, getting to my feet. "Nobody's perfect." I crossed my hands over my chest and glared at him. "I came here to keep you company, not to throw you a pity-party. Stop thinking about how horrible your life is, just because of this. You should be thankful for what you do have—a job, a beautiful office… A talent for painting, a passion for life—and respect from nearly everyone you meet… and…and…" I sat down on the bed, turning my head to avoid looking at him. And you have a student who's been in love with you since the moment she saw you… who thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world, and would do anything for you... my mind finished for me.
But what had been spoken out loud had been enough for him. He gave me the most apologetic look he could muster from a wolf's perspective, and nudged my arm with his nose. I wrapped my arms around his neck again and promised myself that, before the night was over, I would tell him how much I loved him.