LONG STORY SHORT, james potter

𝐨𝐧𝐞.

The rest of the night went on like a dream you half remember in the morning. After a couple more rounds and bidding Sirius goodbye, Betty trudged up to her room.

It was quite small as the Lupins weren't the wealthiest. The walls were painted white. Diagonal from the door, her bed was pushed against the wall, right under a window that faced west, letting in the golden, evening sun everyday. She had a white comforter and sheets, but soft pink pillow cases. Next to her bed and under the window was a small ledge that held a small stack of books, a mug of cold tea, a vase of dying flowers and an ornate, oval gold framed mirror that her grandmother had given her for her 16th birthday. 

Above the bed were pieces of paper that littered the wall in small patches containing small drawings from one of her best friends, Cecilia or Cece as literally everyone called her, would draw during class. She'd draw flowers and plants and vegetables and wildlife. Anything that came to her mind, really. She'd always leave them at her desk, but Betty picked them up, knowing she'd want them later. 

Those that Cece really hadn't wanted were taped on Betty's walls to remind her that she was never really alone, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself. Sometimes, Betty would sketch little poems and stories next to each of the drawings, giving them stories of their own.

On the wall, next to the head of her bed, were bookshelves filled with books that Remus had given her or that she'd bought. They were also littered with little trinkets from small succulents to a tube of hand cream to small glass figurines. 

Across from the foot of her bed was a small closet that was built into the wall. It had two sliding doors that revealed shelves containing pants, t shirts, overalls, under garments, pajamas and more on one side and the other revealed hanging space with dresses, nicer clothes, jackets and skirts. All along the bottom of the closet floor, shoes were on top of and falling off of each other. Everything from gogo boots to Chuck Taylors to leather heels to shoes that had just been released 10 years earlier ( but Aisling was convinced were going to become the new trend ) Doc Martens. 

On the wall across from her bed, sat a small, wooden desk. It held all of her school supplies from years previous as well as bins of red, leather bound notebooks that she'd written all sorts of things in — poetry, prose, notes to friends, class notes. There was another abandoned mug that sat on it with cold tea. A matching chair was shoved into the leg space, a plaid coat hanging from the back.

She quietly shed her clothing from the day — a shiny maroon skirt and a very oversized button down that was tied at the waist. She slipped on some pajamas — soft from the amount of times they'd been washed and worn — and got into bed.

She was tired, but for some reason, couldn't fall asleep. The nights had been like this for a while since her death — long and unrelentless. However, after who knows how long, she eventually drifted to sleep.

Still in the state of looking at everything as if underwater, Betty awoke the next morning to already hear her dad and brother downstairs.

This was not usual for the usual early hour that Betty awoke in, until she looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly noon. She shot up and tumbled out of bed in a mess of hair and dried saliva. She quickly got out of bed and threw on a green sundress, took out her curlers, brushed her hair a little and ran down the stairs.

"Ah! Sleeping Beauty is finally awake!" Lyall chuckled, sipping his coffee while he read the Daily Prophet at the table. 

Remus sat to the side of him, reading a book and eating a piece of toast. He looked up when she came barreling down the stairs, however, and smile.