Sirius is much more… approachable now. We spend time together, though it is nothing like it should be with two people who are in love, and it makes me wonder if he has the same feelings. After all, he said he wanted to try it. Still, nevertheless, we are closer than we have ever been in the past and he spends more time with me than with the girls who giggle or swoon at his presence.

I don't know if this is a good thing; at least, I don't feel the jealousy wage inside me when I see him wink, flirt, or grin that grin of his at a female student. But, when he's near me, I'm overcome to kiss and hold him; Hell, maybe even snog him. I keep my distance though because I don't want to be hurt by his refusal; his rejection.

James has been giving us a wide berth (as well as Peter) as Sirius and I are talking, wanting to be alone. I chuckle at all the times I've seen James give me a suggestive wink; however, I have no idea what he means by that. Does he mean…? No, surely not! I can't think about that since it causes my shaft to tighten with the idea. Someone calls my name – sounding a far distance away despite being right beside me – and snaps their fingers in front of my face. It is this that brings me back to reality.

"Have you heard anything I've said?"

I apologize to Lily Evans, who I'm suppose to be helping with some homework as she missed the day before due to illness. Unfortunately, my notes are choppy and incomplete and don't suit her needs like they used; on the other hand, I know what assignments have to be done and when they have to be turned in. This makes her less angry for which I am very grateful because the redhead can be quite a force to reckon with when her emotions are running high.

I know that James has been badgering her again (I try to give him hints on how to obtain the heart of his dreams, but does he listen? No.). He asks her out for a date to Hogsmeade on a constant basis and, worse than that, he always tells us about it as if we – the Marauders, that is – are interested in such things. James is an odd man. Betrayed by his arrogance and his egotistical methods, he'll never get a chance to even touch Lily's hand, let alone kiss her.

But I've heard recently that she has actually agreed and I've noticed how James has changed, just slightly. He no longer talks of the Quidditch matches around her and hardly ever retells the actions as though everyone was blind or if no one had been there. During the nights, however, he is very much the same. He grins like a madman as he goes into long-winded discussions of Lily Evans. Obsession is a fickle thing and I guess I'm a victim of it as well.

Because, like James Potter, I am unable to banish a certain person from my mind: Sirius Black. His face is in my dreams – some of which have turned rather pleasant, others are just as horrible as the ones I used to be tormented by. His voice is in my head, speaking sweet nothings that I know he'll never say. This torture is almost as bad as the kind that ripped out my heart and threw it against the wall when he was flirting, worrying about his reputation in school. It's hard, considering my soul wasn't even whole to start with. It has been broken before and never mended.

"…And now I wave my wand like this," Lily was saying, "but I can't get it to work! Why won't it work?"

I sigh and reply, "You're pronouncing it wrong."

"That's impossible! I've done all the research and I even asked Professor Flint if I was right and he said that I was! How can I be pronouncing it wrong? This is a stupid charm! Why do we need to learn it, anyway?"

"I dunno… I don't see much use of it myself either."

"Thank you, Remus! Finally, someone agrees with me!"

My mind manages to wander as Lily continues to rant about the spell work she has to perfect before next week. I don't see the problem because she can perform the charm and get it to do what it's meant to do. I guess she wants to make sure no one will be able to spot any flaws in it and that is how she can soar above me in grades. The only class I could be better at than her is Defense Against the Dark Arts, which is my favorite subject; if only I weren't a werewolf, then I would teach it.

Maybe it's because I'm a werewolf that I enjoy learning about Dark Creatures and defensive counter-jinxes; however, a small part of me wishes that I could study the other aspect of the Dark Arts. The kind that the ever-growing Voldemort uses, but there aren't any books about those. Some volumes only speak briefly about the Unforgivable Curses; always hitting on what damage each one can do.

Er… not that I want to join Voldemort or anything, though the best way of fighting an enemy is to know how they tick and what they can do.

"Okay… let's see… what about Potions? Do we have any homework in there?" Lily asks, once again interrupting me.

"Of course, although Professor Slughorn told me to tell you that you didn't have to do it." I pause because she's squealing with joy and then continue, "He wants you to come to his next Slug Club Party. I think it's a few days before Christmas."

"Don't call it that, Remus. You should go, and then you would realize that it's not so bad. I've meet a few interesting people at his parties."

"I'd rather not. I only take Advanced Potions because I want a good education."

Lily shrugs, "Suit yourself. And I'll go. I would have gone otherwise. I should tell the Professor right away! See ya, Remus!"

Ooo0ooO

In the Common Room, I almost sit on someone's cat, but it luckily alerts me of its presence by hissing and spitting at me. It had been napping, now its back is arched oddly and its cream-colored fur is standing up on end. I have never liked felines since most of them have this reaction to me and it makes me wonder if they can sense Moony. A werewolf is larger and more powerful than the average dog cats fear.

Frowning, I watch as the cat streaks away into the Girl's Dormitory and I shake my head with a small sigh. I plop down in the once occupied chair and find it to be comfortably warm from the cat's body. Hogwarts is cold during the winter; the winds that bring snow bite through the castle as if it was made of shear fabric instead of rock. The bitter chill finds a way past every nook a cranny, forcing me to dress warmly. Many of my clothes, however, are patched and frayed and not nearly suitable enough for such weather.

The fire is crackling merrily and I can hear the songs of Christmastime echo from the corridors of school. As if waiting for me, there is a cup of hot chocolate – with a small marshmallow floating at the top – on the end table nearby. I'm not sure if it was someone else's, but I suddenly don't care; I take it into my hands, which are numb from winter's frost (I don't have any gloves to protect them), and sip at it eagerly. The taste is delicious and the hot drink burns my tongue.

I take a few more measured gulps of the hot liquid, and then return it to where it had been; only now it is half-empty. Squirming down into the warm seat and wrapping the extra cloak around myself, I take a book from one of the overlarge pockets. Both James and Sirius agree that I spend too much of my time reading; perhaps, they are right. I'm not like them; I don't pull pranks or take pleasure in humiliating others for the 'fun of it.'

Hell, I've been made a Prefect! I'm supposed to be watching over them, expressing to them a certain amount of control, and punishing them for their tricks! However, when it comes to my friends, I grow lenient. Their jokes – the ones that will later be cataloged in Hogwarts: A History – would be nowhere without my brain. I give their ideas more thought and form and, in a way, I'm almost as bad as they are. I shouldn't be wearing this badge.

Though, that's not the reason why I think they're right about me reading too much. As time has gone on, I find it increasingly difficult to focus on the small words; occasionally, they swim in front of my eyes and I can't make sense of them. I need reading glasses, but that would be admitting my defeat. James and Sirius would gloat; they would take pride in knowing that they had been right. And, frankly, they don't really need any more encouragement.

Luckily, during the breaks, I usually only have to deal with one (or none) of the Marauders. As usual, James Potter is off vacationing with his family and Peter Pettigrew… Well, I have no idea where Peter goes, actually. He doesn't tell us his stories of summer, Christmas, or even Easter; this makes me all the more wary of him. Sirius, though, always stays. He doesn't want to be a burden on the Potter family and he hates his own; in fact, I believe he once told me that he finally got disowned.

Alone… with Sirius… is a scary thought; yet pleasant at the same time.

My nose is buried close to the pages of the book that I'm trying to read, but either I can't concentrate or my eyesight is really horrible on this day. I sigh with one of those big sighs, the kind that anyone can tell I'm giving up on the feeble attempt of striving to finish my story. Maybe it's for the best because, at that very moment, the young man I'm thinking of enters through the Fat Lady's portrait with a flourish.

Sirius constantly acts as if he owns whatever room he enters – it doesn't even matter who's already in there, but I'm used to it. He throws a charming smile at me and dumps himself onto the couch, flinging some snow onto the floor. I recognize that grin for it's the same one he uses to woo the women into his arms and it melts me just as it does to them. I look over at him with a smirk and raise a curious brow.

"Have you been having fun?" I ask, "Without me?"

"Oh yes! Great fun! There's a war, Remus! It's brutal. I think we won today's battle, but the Slytherins are planning something… I can feel it."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to see it."

Sirius nods and grimaces with a dramatic air, "You should have seen it, Remus. I knocked a good snowball right into old Snivellus's face!" He chortles.

"Of course," He continues in a stage whisper, "I don't think he was really playing either. I made him join, though!"

I actually laugh and shake my head at Sirius in disbelief. Trying to imagine Snape's face after being hit by a snowball (I picture it coming from the back in my mind) is an amusing vision, to say the least. Snape and the prankster have had a long history of fights; I don't know why the Marauders pick more on this particular Slytherin than anyone else. 'It's more of the fact that he exists.' James's voice rings in my memory.

The Marauders shouldn't prank for that reason alone, but what can I say? What can I do? Detentions don't seem to bother them and taking away House points would be pointless since I'm in the same one.

"Maybe I'll join next time." I reply.

"Ooh!"

"Of course, I'll need a good pair of gloves. You remember what happened to the last pair…"

"That wasn't my fault!" Sirius cries, "Besides, they were already well-worn and tattered. You needed another set anyway."

"You should get me some for Christmas, then."

He grins and wiggles his eyebrows (which I've always found interesting because I've never met another person who can do that). "I've already gotten you something that I think you'll like much better. We can, however, nip down to Hogsmeade and grab some. I'll pay. Free of charge."

The offer sounds very tempting. I would like to go out in the snow – which is my favorite kind of weather despite the cold it brings – to fight in the brutal battle Sirius has undoubtedly started. James had left his Invisibility Cloak behind and I'm not sure if this has been done on purpose or by accident. Either way, we could use it and get to the community with no problem.

I smile and say, "All right, you've convinced me."

"Wow!" Sirius starts in what I can only assume is shock. "That was easy."