Fourth floor common room, Monday evening

[saltandammo.livejournal.com]

Still in the wolf form that Umbridge had turned him into, Dean was stretched out on the couch, chin resting on the armrest, tv remote in his mouth. With careful experimenting, he'd figured out how to turn on the tv and change the channel by biting down gently on the buttons.

He was currently watching an old werewolf movie; it had seemed appropriate given the circumstances.

[ooc: Yep, Dean's a wolf. Open like an open thing.]