Having received a grant to write a dissertation based on nothing but a hunch, Remus had spent the first month buried in books trying to justify it. He had applied to the degree with barely a title, much less a fully fledged theory to pursue, and he had worked through an immense amount of articles and problems to warrant further research and funding.<br/>Remus had the impression that his immediate coursemates were under the same pressure, from both Mulligan and the board. It had, however, been challenging sharing a dorm with Black, who had already passed this hurdle, seeming to work with an ease and a purpose Remus simply couldn’t comprehend.<br/>Remus knew it to be circumstantial, that Black was simply two years ahead and by now had a better idea of the course his dissertation would take him. It wasn’t exactly encouraging, often finding that he compared himself to him, only to be left annoyed by the fact that he was miles behind.<br/>All in all, it had only seemed to increase the workload Remus had put on himself. Sitting by his desk, he startled when the door unlocked; he intuitively raised his pen, allowing the ink to bleed into the chamber rather than onto his worksheet.<br/>“Hi,” Remus greeted, having settled into somewhat of a civil tone. He didn’t otherwise lift his attention, knowing who had entered.<br/>Instead, his eyes continued to skim across the paper, settling his hand back down to continue the formula he had been scribbling at.