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The Character I Am
My eyes jumped open when a banging came to the door, and I instantly got to my feet, stashing the pocketknife in my trousers and tossing the wade of bloody toilet paper where the name implied it belonged, flushing it down, out of sight. My time alone in my head was up, as it usually was very quickly with a dorm full of teenage boys.
Ghosts Behind Picture Perfection
Sometimes I wondered if James and Peter noticed. If they saw how quickly I forgot about everything else when I had his attention. Perhaps they were both too oblivious to see it, but I still wondered. It kept me careful.
“Padfoot.” I hid my pain, his concern written plainly on his face cutting me deep, and his voice, ringing with sadness on my behalf simply put salt in my fresh wounds. He only ever used my full nickname in times like this, when he wants me to be serious because he’s worried for me.
“Just let me stay here for a second. Please.” His request was warm on my neck, sending a chill down my spine as I nodded in surrender and he settled his head back in its previous position, his grip slipping from my arm and returning to resting on his knees in front of him. I forgot why I had been so nervous about him touching me when I realized how disappointed I was that his hand left.
Remus’ eyes pulled up quickly when I walked back into the common room. My face was still flushed from the cool air outside despite my long walk from the kitchen, where I had stopped for a bowl of soup for him, so he didn’t notice the heat that crawled up my neck when I got his attention so quickly.
“Do you really think you’re that undesirable?” I asked after a moment, serious, seeing his gaze turn up from the page in slight surprise. I was annoyed sometimes that my friends were so startled with me when I acted sober. He shook the look away when he shook his head.
“Padfoot.” I hated it when he called me that. He knew he could get anything from me when using my full nickname. Because, he only used it when he was truly worried, and I was as good as butter in his palms when I knew he was worried.
Promises and Things Alike
He would give up on that particular subject and move onto a new one I hoped. Back to us maybe? Back to an easier situation. He would ask ‘Why are you being so spiteful to Julia’ and I would reply ‘because you don’t like her’ and he would say ‘what makes you think that’ and I would end it with ‘because you kissed me.’ And then I would have the ball again.
“What’s all this about?” James asked from his bed where he was still laying with Lily, although they were both on their stomachs now, they had probably been talking.
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