SEVEN

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A B O U T  T I M E
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Her hand was clenched so tightly around the History of Magic textbook that her fingertips had begun to turn white. She attempted to quicken her pace away from Remus, but the boys legs seemed to be ten times longer than her own. For every step he took, she took three more.

As much as she tried to shove the thought off, it seemed to claw its way back into her mind and was always followed with a feeing of betrayal. All these months she had talked to Remus about Sirius, and never once had the boy thought to mention what the enchanted parchment thing — whatever it was — had. Never once had Remus given Freya a slight clue that he believed her crush on Sirius to be impossible and unlikely.

"I don't see why you're ignoring me," Remus attempted to make eye contact with Freya, but she was looking anywhere she could except him. For instance, the stone on the floor seemed a lot more interesting than normal.

His hand shot from the pocket of his trousers and around her warm wrist before he knew what he was actually doing, or what words he would say if she chose to listen. Surprisingly, she did just this and turned rather reluctantly towards the boy with a small sigh, "What do you want, Remus?"

A rather vague question seeing as there were thousands of answers to those five little words. Ironically, most of them included Freya.

"I want to know what's going on," he started off with furrowed eyebrows. Her wrist pulled softly away from the grasp that held them together and he awkwardly let his own fall down to his cloaked side.

By now, Peter's abnormally short legs had permitted him to catch up with the other two. His breath was pitifully strained as if he had run three miles.

"Why don't you tell me?" She snapped.

The back of his neck was rubbed, his hand sliding occasionally over the tag on his sweater as he pondered her words. The thought from the train ride to school seemed to echo back into his life like deja vu. Girls confused him.

"I'm sorry," he responded, not sounding sincere in the least bit, "But I don't seem to know what you're going on about."

Peter opened his mouth to intervene between the lash of words that was destined to come, "Perhaps —"

"Even if you did know, you wouldn't tell me, would you?" she grumbled.

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

Boom.

Before either could yell anymore, Sirius Black dashed into sight from around the corner with a mad laugh contorted onto his face. An explosion, a firework of some sort more than likely, sounded from behind the same wall which he had just ran out from. The loud bang was followed by three more and a series of yells from students. James Potter swiftly trailed after his best friend, and at this instance partner in crime, with his cloak flittering behind him inelegantly.

"BLACK!" Mcgonagall's voice could be easily recognized over the dozens of smaller explosions, "POTTER!"

"POTTER!" yelled Lily at the same moment, her voice intermixing with the Professor's. She bounded down the nearby staircase with a slender finger pointed towards the black haired boy in accusation.

The two subjects to her calls came to a sudden stop in front of their comrades. Wide grins were plastered onto their mischievous faces.

By now, Lily's fiery red hair matched her temper. She stood before the group with a glare. Her black polish coated nail tapped three times on the prefect badge that stood out against Remus's robes and she gave him a you've-got-to-do-something look.

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