She's watching him from across the table, and it's making him uncomfortable.
Molly's trying to establish a semblance of order- bless her soul- but she's red in the face from yelling. Everyone's trying to talk over her.
Sirius is talking over them all.
"He's got to know, he's not a child anymore—"
"That's exactly what he is, Sirius! He's fourteen—"
"By the time James and I were fourteen, we'd done things that would make your skin crawl—"
"Sirius, he's not James—"
Remus Lupin is quiet, but this does not surprise anyone.
He hardly ever speaks up in Order meetings— never when they're arguing. He knows better than to fuel Sirius; all you had to do was ignore him, and he'd already lost. Molly was just giving him what he'd wanted the whole time he'd been kept in his parents' house— someone to yell at.
Remus isn't thinking about Sirius right now, though— he looks uncomfortable. He's picking at the copy of the Daily Prophet that's spread open in front of him, eyes alternating between the paper and the other side of the table.
Nymphadora Tonks is quiet, and if anyone was paying attention to anything other than their own argument, it would be a cause for surprise.
She's transforming herself again— a grand caricature of Sirius, chest puffed out, his face chiseled stone through the perfect curtain of hair— just as pompous as the real thing.
Before he can stop himself, Lupin smiles.
He dips his head to hide under the paper- but the damage has already been done, her ego already stoked. Her features change to a bloated Molly Weasley- red in the face, she mimics what the real Molly's saying with a startling accuracy.
"—There's no reason to tell him things that we aren't even sure of, it'll only scare the boy—"
"—You all think he's still the toddler you left on the doorstep of those muggles, he's been through so much already!"
Tonks is bending her mouth into a long, yellow beak— she's got feathered wings poking out of her robes and she's doing some sort of dance. She bends her neck to regard the hem of Fletcher's robes, nipping at them- she spits them out, a show of disgust.
She lets out a holler of a laugh when Remus chokes on his coffee- both actions unheard over the main argument.
His smile is hard to hide— so he doesn't. He tries to give her a professor's look— you should probably stop now, young lady— but now she's smiling back softly, in this way that he's never really experienced before.
"— Dumbledore said to—"
"— Do you think I give a horntail's ass what Dumbledore says—"
"— Well you bloody well should, because he's got Harry's best interests in mind— Merlin's beard, Nymphadora, will you take this seriously?"
The entire table snapped to her- Lupin hid his laugh under a soft cough as she reverted back to her normal appearance, coy as can be.
Her hair was a bright, electric purple.