((Well, here's to anyone who's still reading. Sorry about the whole not updating for a really long time thing.))

Chapter 9

Astronomy class was, well, bothersome, to say the least. I hated the smell of the musty candles and incense, as well as the smell of the teacher as she walked by. I was unsure of her name, and uncertain if she had ever revealed that to us. Perhaps she was trying to uphold some sort of mysterious reputation, but everyone thought she was a nut. The hypothesis was likely, she always looked as though her body were the only part of her still in the room. A lot of that seemed to be going around lately. Maybe going back to school after a long break drained people. Or maybe I was just paying too much attention to everything. It sounded a lot like something I would do. Then again, I wasn't quite myself anymore as of late. Since Sirius started acting differently, everyone else seemed to have been thrown off track as well. Perhaps once you become so entwined in a group your feelings become inter-related, dynamic; a group entity with a mind of its own. I laughed. Maybe I was just paying too much attention to everything.

"Something amusing, Mr. Lupin?" the professor's voice scratched its way up out of her throat like nails on a chalkboard. I shook my head dismissively and clasped my hands atop my desk, pretending to be attentive. She either fell for it or forgot what it was she had been doing, because she then continued her pilgrimage around the room, likely monitoring the work she had assigned to us. The work I had been ignoring. I picked up a quill and began scribbling the alphabet over and over on a roll of parchment. She wasn't paying close attention, she'd never know the difference. All one required was an imaginative mind to pass the course anyway.

Once the alphabet took on a hypnotic quality I decided it best to focus my mind on something else. Like socks. Socks were nice. I looked down and realized that I had forgotten socks this morning. I smiled and adjusted my foot so that the leg of my pants fell past my bare ankle and hid my mistake. It was doubtful that anyone else would take notice, but I was obsessive over such details. I had been in a rush this morning, trying to assemble my DADA project. I hadn't meant to leave it so late, but I didn't want to do it all under the assumption that Sirius would do nothing. In the end, he did nothing. It worried me that he seemed to have no regard for his schoolwork, or anything, anymore. I forced myself to stop worrying. He was sixteen, he could care for himself.

A part of me was developing a sense of possession over him, and there was something more that I couldn't place. It had never been like this before… had it? I tried to think back, before everything ceased to make sense. There had been small indications; certain odd glances, encouraging hugs that lasted just moments too long, but hadn't it been that way with everyone? 'No, it hadn't.' But it was easier to admit that in my mind, and I wasn't about to ask anyone else for a second opinion. Maybe I had developed something akin to a "crush" on Sirius, but it was normal to be confused about these things as a teenager. I'm sure he was probably just going through the same thing, on top of everything else. Besides, there was no way Sirius was gay. Many female students of Hogwarts would agree. I knew for certain he'd spent many a night outside of our dorms, and I could only imagine where he had been instead.

I gathered my things together neatly, as class was coming to an end. Defense Against the Dark Arts was next, and I was quite thankful I had finished things up on my won. If Sirius hadn't done his share, at least it'd mean he was unfamiliar with the material, which meant certain plans might go much more smoothly.

It felt useless to be even attending classes anymore seeing as how I wouldn't be staying for much longer, but nonetheless I rushed to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts in time. I hated the subject, but something told me I'd be seeing a lot more of it once I was out of here. The thick roll of parchment tucked beneath my arm threatened to slip and fall, and I squeezed my arm more tightly to my body, leaving the parchment somewhat crumpled. The effect was mildly upsetting, as far too much effort had been put into the assignment. Normally I wouldn't care so much, but I didn't want Remus' grades to suffer because of my utter disdain for the class. The majority of the night before had been spent researching the material in the library, after the slight argument with James. I lifted my hand to my lips, still swollen and sensitive.

Most of the class had assembled themselves appropriately by the time I got into the room, but no one besides Remus seemed to notice my appearance as I lowered myself into the empty chair beside him. He was looking at me as though expecting something, and my mind struggled for a moment before remembering my half of the assignment. As I handed it to him I hoped he wouldn't look through it enough to realize that most of it was directly copied from various dusty volumes in the library. Surprisingly, instead of accepting my paper, he withdrew a piece of parchment from his bag that appeared to be at least twice as long as the required length, far from the half he was supposed to have covered. A wave of crimson washed over his face and I couldn't tell whether he was embarrassed because he had written so much or because he hadn't trusted me. I quickly grabbed my own work, miserably done in comparison, and stuffed it into my pocket just as the professor began to address the class.

"Today we will begin practicing that which you have all studied quite in-depth at this point," he instructed loudly over the sound of essays being levitated onto a pile atop his desk. I pleaded inwardly to an unspecified receptor that the spell might be one I could bluff. I had the feeling I'd have no such luck. People began breaking off into pairs. I looked over at Remus, hoping he'd be able to explain everything as he usually does. I still didn't have much of a grip on this particular subject.

Remus stood up from his chair and indicated that I should do so as well. Looking around, it would seem that most had taken this approach. "Don't forget to clear your mind…" he said softly, adopting a professor-like tone once I was standing before him. I closed my eyes and tried to think of nothing, but found I did a better job of thinking of what I was not supposed to think of. Why didn't I actually do the research? This was going to be bad. As hard as I tried to think of nothing, it seemed impossible. I heard Remus shout "Legilimens!" and then it took a turn for the worst. He'd been practicing. He must have been. There was no way he could have been doing this so effectively otherwise. Suddenly flashes of spliced memories played in front of my eyes, the majority of which I had hoped to repress. I could feel him forcefully entering my mind. There was Dumbledore, looking at me from across his desk, telling me I'd have to go home. Then all of a sudden I was sitting on the cold dungeon floor, cradling my bloody arm. Another flash and father was there, laughing to himself while wielding his wand. So many horrible memories made themselves fresh in my mind, just for this occasion. James' fist meeting with my mouth, the mark on Regulus' forearm, so many things. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. He knew all of it. He'd seen it all. It was all out.