36.
Peter was having nightmares and he had been having them every night for the past two and a half weeks. They were nearly always the same; they were all about the freak. At first they were simply about the attack—he would see the werewolf's face as it snarled at him, feel the pain of the claws ripping into his leg, see the cold hatred in its eyes and see the cunning intelligence that dwelt there. Then they nightmares had shifted, now they were partly of the wolf and partly of the freak and the coldness, the fierce and almost wolfish look which had come over his face when the freak had spoken to him the day after he returned from the hospital wing. The nightmares had plagued him for nearly three weeks now and they were driving him mad. He was jumping at small noises, scurrying around the room and out the door whenever the freak entered the room, his eyes always darting to exits…assessing escape routes and the fastest way to be out of any room. Peter cursed inwardly, would he always be plagued by nightmares because of that disgusting half-breed that the others were letting stay in their dorm? There had to be a way to end them, a way to be free of the terrible images that entrapped him every night when he closed his eyes.
Sirius was a little in awe of the scrawny boy sitting next to him in their Charms classroom. Who would have thought that Remus Lupin could be scary…well on days other than the full-moon? He would do well to remember not to get on the boy's bad side; hopefully there would never be a reason that Sirius would be on his bad side, for that would be a scary place to be indeed. Sirius had to admit that the look on Peter's face had been priceless. Sirius held onto that moment so it would be perfectly etched into his mind, so he could forever remember exactly how Peter looked at the moment when Remus threatened him. Currently the only real problem that Sirius was having was the difficulty with which he was having in restraining himself from pranking a certain Slytherin who Remus was friends with. Sirius sighed and headed out onto the grounds, searching for something else to do…preferably something entertaining and distracting.
James was feeling peculiar, and it was not exactly a new feeling. He could not stop himself from thinking about a certain red-headed girl in the same year as he was, a girl who thought him cocky, stuck-up, ignorant, a show-off, and an all-round complete waste of time. James had to admit that he was most of those things, yet how was it Evans' right to decide that he was before actually getting to know him? He couldn't stop thinking about her…even Quidditch was no longer a distraction; everything made him think of her, and it annoyed him. How could one girl—all be it an incredibly good looking and talented girl—cause so much disruption to his thoughts and life? If this was part of growing up, then he wanted no part of it, he wanted to become a professional Quidditch player…not some love-struck idiot. There had to be a way to stop this, there just had to be.
Thank you for reading, this latest chapter. Please review, and I hope that this story will continue to be at least interesting. Thanks again and you are all awesome!
I know it is an appallingly short chapter, and I apologize most profusely. I will hopefully make the chapters longer again soon, in the meantime I am afraid that this is all I can offer you. Once again, I am so sorry about this.