A slumbering werewolf rested his head in her lap while she scratched his scalp. Great heaving breaths accompanied the occasional twitch or flutter of eyelashes as he dreamed, and she wondered who it was doing the dreaming, was it Moony or Remus? Idly, she also wondered if whatever he was dreaming was pleasant or if she should gently jostle him back to the land of the living. The night air was cold, and she was bundled up in two jumpers, a coat, and thick fuzzy socks under her wellies. In the early hours of the morning, frost was beginning to accumulate on the tips of each blade of grass, and the weather unfortunately mirrored the frosty temperature that had plagued the townhome in the days following Halloween.