He was running. Running.

His paws pounded the ground time and time again, but every time he ran more than ten paces he was met with a wall. Snarling in frustration he threw himself at the wall, craving open air, the moonlight, for flesh…

Run. Run.

This time his travels carried him straight to a wall that swung open – a door! With a howl that tore his throat he flung himself down the stairs, they were flying up at him, but he only slammed into another wall, he turned but there was another, the room was shrinking, he couldn't stand it, he had to get out…

Run. Run.

He was closing up, he was being squeezed, suffocated, in agony he threw back his head and howled…

Remus woke up with a gasp, and instantly sat bolt upright. Vaguely, he registered he was drenched in sweat, and shaking, but he took barely any notice. For a moment he sat frozen, then with a huge jolt he ripped back his bed drapes and ran for the bathroom, where he was heartily sick.

Sweat was running in little rivulets down his forehead. Weakened and trembling, he leant his head against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, blue eyes staring into nothing, chest heaving shakily. Oh, Merlin.

From outside the frosted bathroom window, the sun was just beginning to rise. Even from here Remus could see the shoots of pink mingling with gold as the entire world turned out to a new day. Grogily, he raised his head, then with a little sharp intake of breath, pulled back his pyjama sleeve.

A fresh wound lay open and gaping on the underside of his forearm, and feeling another twinge of pain, he pulled up his trouser leg to discover an even worse one in the shape of a bite. It seemed Madam Pomfrey hadn't mended all his cuts last night, after all. Shuddering, Remus held it up and limped unsteadily to the sink, trying to ignore the twisting feeling in his guts as a trickle of blood ran down his pale legs.

Gently, with his unhurt arm he pushed a flannel under cold running water, and started to wipe away the congealed blood around the cut. Frowning in concentration, he did the same for his arm, then slid his wand out of his pyjama pocket, and pointed it at his cuts, muttering a spell he had picked up from Madam Pomfrey. Instantly, clean bandages strapped themselves over the wounds, though not with the sort of professional neatness Pomfrey did it with. Sighing, Remus rolled the sleeve and leg back down, and walked back into his dim dorm.

In the warm, comfortable darkness, his friends were no more than indistinguishable lumps under their blankets, but even so Remus paused for a moment to look at them. He cocked his head to one side and listened; he could hear Peter's snuffling snores, James's heavy, irregular breathing and Sirius...Remus smiled. He couldn't even hear Sirius' breathing, thanks to the enormous pile of pillows he had burrowed under at some point during the night. Sirius's night time wanderings were often the butt of many jibes and comments from James and Peter, but Remus had always kept his amusement over it to himself. After all, he did enough night time 'wandering' of his own.

Gently he padded back to his own bed and sat with his arms curled round his legs, eyes staring into nothing. Every time one of the other boys grunted or rolled over in their sleep, he would jump and swing his gaze anxiously over to them, but they were only sleeping…dreaming…

He found himself gazing at James's sleeping face, the eyes closed, the mouth slightly open, one arm flung over the side of the bed and the other – obscurely – folded into a most awkward looking position over his back. Every now and then he would twitch, a leg kick out slightly perhaps, or his nose wrinkle up.

"What are you dreaming about?" Remus found himself muttering. It was one of his going-back-to-sleep games he played sometimes, only it was morning soon and the room was getting rapidly brighter by the minute. Still, he found himself looking at James' flushed with sleep cheeks, and wondering just exactly what someone like James would dream about.

"A girl, maybe? Or perhaps where you come from, that big house in the country you once told me about. I doubt you'd be dreaming anything bad. I've never heard you talk about bad experiences, but then, neither have I, and look at me." With a shudder, that shook him out of his reverie, Remus stood up, and one of the floorboards creaked loudly.

"'Scuse me." mumbled Sirius, and Remus bit his lip to try and stop himself laughing out loud. Then he leant down, rummaging through his suitcase for a robe. There was no point in going back to bed – he'd never be able to sleep anyway.

0o0o0

It was a pretty funny sight to Remus to see the other three boys tumble, dishevelled and eyes still full with sleep when everyone else in the Great Hall had been there for at least half an hour now. In fact – Remus glanced at the near empty plates around him – breakfast was nearly over.

Sirius collapsed into the place next to him, hair a complete mess and shadows under his eyes. "Alright, Remus?" he attempted to stifle a huge yawn, covering his mouth with his hand. "Blimey I'm tired."

Peter nodded in sloth-like agreement, resting his forehead temporarily on the table before snatching a muffin from the plate in front of him, and taking tiny, mouse sized bites from it, as though wanting to make it last as long as possible.

James, however, by total contrast jumped up on to the table, stepped over the milk jug and plopped into the bench on the other side. "How the bloody hell d'you manage to get up so early?" he frowned at Remus, while helping himself to some coffee, "I was always the early riser until you came along!"

His tone was joke-y, but Remus still felt mortified. "Sorry." he muttered, flashing a timid half smile at James, who immediately laughed.

"Remus, why are always apologising? I didn't mean it!"

He couldn't explain it even to himself. Shaking his head slightly, Remus started buttering himself some toast, though he was far from hungry. He had been at this school for over a month now and he still hadn't got rid of that stupid habit. Perhaps it was something to do with the fact this was third year, and everyone else already knew each other, knew the school, and although he was getting used to it he still felt he didn't fit in.

Next to him, Sirius snatched the muffin away from Peter.

"Hey!"

"What? You're not even eating it properly!"

Peter flushed red. "I was too eating it! I was just, er, I was…"

"Savouring it." Remus added helpfully, smiling as Peter nodded gratefully to him.

"Yeah! I was savouring it!" He punched Sirius's arm in a feeble effort to make him drop the muffin, which only resulted in Sirius punching him back and nearly knocking him off the bench.

"What have we got first?" mumbled James, completely indifferent to the miniature riot between Peter and Sirius which had broken out in front of him.

"Charms." replied Remus at once. He had memorized his timetable off by heart.

"Oh, good." James's eyes strayed to his arm, which Remus was holding carefully close to his side, hand resting on his lap. "What's wrong with your arm?"

Remus jumped like he had been stung. "Wh-what?" he asked nervously, automatically tugging down the sleeve of his injured arm a little further. "There's nothing wrong with it!"

James's eyes narrowed. "So why're you hiding it?"

"I'm not!" Remus immediately checked his voice, he was sounding too much like he was lying. He switched tones of voice. "I just banged it on the bedpost earlier, is all. Got a bruise, I reckon."

James didn't look fully convinced, but shrugged it off. "Ok. Chuck the milk over, I can't reach it…"

Sirius looked up. "What was that, Jamesie?" he asked sweetly, and James hastily stood up, grabbing the milk jug before anyone else could touch it.

"I didn't mean literally, Sirius!" he snapped, and Sirius sighed, looking slightly crestfallen.

"Damn. Thought I had him for a moment."

A bell rang somewhere in the distance, and James growled, tipping milk sloppily into his coffee and trying to drink it quickly, and nearly burning his tongue off at the same time.

"Ahh, aaahh!" he flapped a hand at his mouth, looking agonised, eyes popping. Sirius laughed, standing up and shoving the rest of his muffin in his mouth.

"C'mon guysh," he said with his mouth full, spraying bits of muffin all over Peter, who squealed, looking disgusted. James remained sitting, prodding his burnt tongue gingerly and staring longingly at his coffee.

"James." Remus called cautiously, "Come on, we have to go."

James sighed, still eyeing his coffee.

"Oh, for Merlins sake! Just bring it with you if you want it that much!" Sirius picked up the mug, and walked off holding it aloft. "Come on, James, the coffee's calling…"

In an instant James had vaulted the table and bolted after him, leaving Remus and Peter to follow on behind.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Oh yes. Another chapter. Go me, go me. In case you wondered, Remus only got accepted into Hogwarts in his third year because his parents didn't think he would have a chance of getting in. If you look in the third HP book it doesn't actually say what year he got into Hogwarts (I just checked lol), and for some strange reason I always imagined he got into Hogwarts in his second or third year. Not sure why.

Til next time people, and don't forget to review!

Mooncheese xxx