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Remus rolled out of bed on Friday morning with a soft migraine that rested behind his left eye with pinpointed rage.
He didn't want to get up; he wanted to succumb to the sharp discomfort and fall back into the sad excuse for sleep that he had come out of. But memories of the week would not stop flashing behind his closed eyelids, amplifying the pain every second.
Remus had spent the entirety of the week trying to rid himself of Valerie. He told her he wanted things to end on Monday during their walk - which failed, obviously; he tried again to explain his dislike for her on Tuesday, but she only laughed as though Remus were teasing her; he blatantly ignored her on Wednesday, but this only led to a shouting match on Thursday in which Valerie claimed she would 'fight for their love even if she was fighting for the both of them'.
Remus had no idea when he entered some sort of twisted romantic comedy, but whatever the case it had seemingly given him a very sharp and pointed migraine.
There was also the fact that the moon was slowly filling to a loud and bright circle, but Remus tried not to think about that.
"Morning, Moony," said Peter, who seemed only slightly more awake than Remus felt. He was dressed in his robes and quietly packing his books into his brown backpack.
"Morning," Remus answered, pulling a fresh set of robes from the trunk at the foot of his bed.
It appeared that Kingsley and James had already vacated the room, James surely hours prior, but Sirius was sound asleep in his bed with his blankets falling off the side and his pillow shoved over his face.
"James was a bit loud today," Peter explained, his round blue eyes glazing over sleeping Sirius. Remus nodded.
"He's probably nervous," Remus said, slipping on one red and one white sock. "They play Hufflepuff today."
"Prongs is never nervous for quidditch," Peter said. Remus scoffed.
"We both know that's not true," he argued. "And besides, it's his first match playing seeker."
"True," Peter nodded. "But he could play anywhere and be fine."
"Yeah, but he doesn't think that way," Remus said, rolling his eyes slightly.
A pillow flew from the opposite side of the room and slammed into Peter's shelf of potted plants, knocking down one particularly tall vase and shattering it completely.
"Shut it," Sirius, the pillow thrower, demanded tragically.
"Sorry, Padfoot," Pete laughed.
"Reparo," Remus said quietly, mending Peter's broken glass.
"Let's go now before he murders us," Peter whispered, picking the pillow up off the ground.
Remus nodded and motioned to the door. He took the pillow from Peter and, as Peter pulled the door open, Remus launched the pillow back at Sirius's head.
