Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns these people. I do not. She's not abiding by the law, considering slavery is OBVIOUSLY illegal, but I suppose that laws don't matter for fancy-schmacy celebrities like her. Pfh.
Chapter Three
Breakfast
Remus sat down at the Gryffindor table at his usual spot nestled by Peter.
"Morning, Peter," mumbled a disgruntled Remus.
"Good morning, Mister Grumpy-Butt!" merrily chimed Peter whilst loading his plate with French toast a sticky globs of syrup.
"Damn it," muttered Remus as he grabbed a banana-nut muffin. "Why is the entire bloody world so fucking happy today?"
"I don't know…" said Peter playfully. "Maybe the world is on ecstasy and everybody in the world got some except for prefects! Since you're a prefect, the world just screams Fuck you, Remus John Lupin!"
This was probably meant to make the werewolf feel better, but instead it successfully made Remus want to throw another bar of soap.
"Yeah, I'm sure that's it," said Remus sarcastically, trying to control his fury, for he knew that Peter was not one that could handle the pressure of his werewolf-y wrath.
"Yep!" replied Peter, with his mouth full of the sticky gruel he called breakfast.
"What classes do you have today?" asked Remus.
"Muggle Studies, DADA, and Divination," said Peter lazily. "Why do you ask? We've had the same classes for a week now."
"Actually, we don't have the same classes. I've got Ancient Runes, not Divination." said Remus, raising his eyebrows at Peter.
"Oh," said Peter.
Peter looked down at his watch.
"Merlin's pants!" exclaimed Peter. "It's already eight! We'd better go if we don't want to be late."
The two friends got up and headed towards their first hour, Muggle Studies.
