And then, life was back to normal, it should have been as simple as that. However, Jesse had spent the greater part of today hiding around the house, checked over his shoulder multiple times no matter where he was. His hair color reflected that with ease, stuck on an ink black sort of color all chalked up to the guilt and fear he felt deep in his heart. After all, it had been his massive mistake that landed everyone in the body swapping mess. Still, the former Slytherin needed sleep, so it was off to bed he went after a late dinner.
It didn’t take long for his peaceful rest to be interrupted by a nightmare, it was his new normal after all. However, something about this one threw him for a loop, multiple in fact. All of the residents of the house stood in front of him, shoulder to shoulder, but with their backs turned. For whatever reason, somebody or something was banging on the door, an event dream Jesse was attempting to call their attention to. No matter how times he called the names of those he was familiar with, they just didn’t listen.
The door finally came crashing down and a werewolf stood right in front of him. Just as it pounced on him, the metamorphmagus shot up in bed. His throat didn’t feel hoarse, the screaming he must have done in the dream most likely registered as mild whispers in the real world. “Bloody hell,” he nearly growled, a little too loud for his liking and nearing a much more attention-grabbing tone, yet Jesse could only find the hope his fellow houseguests wouldn’t hear as he searched for whatever resolve he had left in his heart.
