maybe Nate McGonagall has been reading too many vampire novels, but Remus Lupin is starting to seem very suspicious. He's always out late at night, he always looks tired, he's covered in scars and he always spends nights in the hospital wing at a ti...
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HE CAN'T sleep. Nate's been tossing and turning all night, replaying the scene from earlier in his head. He had been walking to class with Remus, keeping enough distance between themselves that nobody would have realised there was an inkling of anything going on between them. Then lo-and-behold, Severus Snape, some Slytherin with hair he doesn't wash as much as he should and a nose like a hooked beak, went crashing into Remus, letting a slur slip from his mouth without so much as a second thought. It isn't the first time Nate has been called something like that and he knows it won't be the last, but when Remus hears it, it's like something changes within him.
It must be his vampire side, Nate had realised at the time, watching Remus grab Severus before the other teenager could run away, throwing him into the opposite wall with so much strength he was sure the foundations would crumble around them. When Remus throws the first punch, a shout of "FIGHT!" echoes down the hallway until they are closed in on all sides by students wearing a variation of their house colours, pushing closer and closer, forcing Nate to be front row to such bloodied action.
He never thought he'd be privy to this side of Remus, the side of him that is animalistic in all notions of the word, the side of him that could and would tear out someone's throat with teeth so devilishly sharp it is dangerous. Even Nate can see the look on Remus' face, the sick pleasure he takes when Snape's nose cracks beneath the weight of his fist.
His hand was covered in blood that did not belong to him. His vampire side will rejoice in that later, when he's prowling the moonlit corridors, craving a taste of some unsuspecting victim. That victim will walk past, some girl coming out of the library later than she should, clutching her books to her chest, thinking about some upcoming essay she's late to start and then there he is, pushing her into the wall, eyes as red as the blood that he will drink out of her pale neck, sharp teeth pushed into the arteries that stand out when she starts to tremble from pure fright.
The thought of Remus' lips on someone else's neck is what forces Nate out of bed.
He pulls on the lumpy yellow jumper Poppy knitted for him last year that sits on the end of his bed, slipping his feet into the slippers that immediately shoot warmth through his veins and takes a look around. Michael is fast asleep in the next bed, dark curls the perfect image of a fallen angel's halo, heavy snores echoing through their dorm room. Across the hall are their two other roommates Nate's never really been able to make friends with, Hiro Sugiyama and Benjamin Shelley, who never lets them forget that he's a distant relative of Mary Shelley, some muggle writer who created a whole genre of fiction. Neither of them snore, luckily, but sometimes Sugiyama, who goes solely by Sugi but Nate doesn't know if they're close enough for nicknames or not, mumbles something about his Ravenclaw girlfriend and her sexy tits. It gets really awkward when he's the only one asleep.
