In the end, I got the worst of it, which was what I was aiming for by trying to hold James and Sirius apart. I had the feeling Madam Pomfrey didn't want to see any of us in there so soon after we arrived at Hogwarts, and I healed much faster than them, so it was only common sense. It was too bad common sense wasn't contagious, as if either of them had any then none of it would have happened in the first place.
By the end of the week, Sirius was back to his old self and James had forgiven and forgotten about the whole affair. Last year, though, Sirius exploded thanks to Snape, and let's just say the end to that was much more bothersome. So things could have been worse.
Life went on. Things were normal, as normal as they could be when one went to a magical school, that is, and the next big point in my life was the first full moon of the school year.
I didn't need to remember the days of the moon anymore. As I child, I made sure to meld them into my memory. The week before the full moon I could be found checking the calendar up ten times a day. Now, though, I almost avoided knowing. As if I thought that if I pretended it didn't exist it would just go away, perhaps. I don't really know.
But I couldn't control the people around me. The pack acted strange, though not on purpose. It was a strange mix of things. Like they were avoiding me by being around me more. I always wanted to say something to them about it, but never did. After all, what was there to say?
I was lead to the shack, pointedly avoiding the pity-filled glanced Madam Pomfrey threw my way. She carried an old, worn blanket in her arms; it belonged to me, given to her by my mother before the first change of my first year. I used to find comfort in it back then, and though I no longer needed it, I saw how much ease that it gave her to have something to do, and allowed the tradition.
Before I knew it, it was the next morning and the only thing that was going through my head was 'ouch' and various curse words. I clasped my eyes down tightly, a massive headache pushing at my skull, and slowly crawled onto the small, broken cot that sat in the next room.
It wasn't the pain that I hated most about the change. It wasn't that I couldn't remember anything except bits and pieces, though that too bothered me a great deal. It was that I would be left alone with my thoughts.
I was often told I thought too much, which only made me think more. Maybe I did think too much, maybe I should stop, maybe they think too little… It was endless. Sometimes I loved to be left alone with my thoughts, and I would often spend hour upon hour thinking about the book I was reading or an assignment for class, without even realizing it.
After the moon, though, this was not the case. I found myself in a rather foul mood, truth be told, and would usually spend the hour or so before Madam Pomfrey came thinking horrible thoughts. I would frequently pick apart the good things about me and make them bad, and question things I would never question normally, such as why people accepted me for what I was.
I was brought back to the Hospital Wing after what felt like an eternity, and then, bliss following hell, the pack would visit. At first Madam Pomfrey denied me the pleasure of seeing them so quickly after, insisting on a morning of bed rest first, but this was soon dismissed for reasons unknown, though the pack assured me with a wink that they had taken care of it, and I was too happy to question it.
My spirits were easily lifted by their cheerful chattering, sneaked-in chocolate, and hair ruffling. James and Peter sat at the foot of the bed, with Sirius on my right, and I had no thoughts, only happiness.