He sniffed, his arms too heavy to reach for the tissue box. His second cold in as many weeks. Sirius, of course, found the whole ordeal utterly hysterical ("but you're a werewolf! Aren't you meant to have like a Super Wolfed-Up Cold Resistance?" he'd said before bursting into fresh peals of laughter, eventually, to Remus' amusement, succeeding in giving himself a stitch).
They were out of Pepper-Up potion after last weeks misery. Something Remus was convinced had led to the acquisition of his current cold; essentially, every germ on the planet had felt hard done by by his use of the potion and so had decided to take their revenge. Sirius had found his idea (and the facial expressions he'd pulled when expressing it) so adorable that he'd gone out in four feet of snow just to get him more of the potion.
The door slammed open, making Remus wince at the amount of plaster dust that came off the wall. Sirius stood in the doorway, surrounded by swirling pieces of snow. He clutched a brown paper bag in one hand and his keys in the other.
"Got the last one Remi, seem's your bug's on a bit of a vengeance spree," he said as he stomped inside and closed the door, leaving a small wet trail on the hardwood floor behind him.
Sirius kicked his boots off and chucked his cloak over the arm of the sofa before trudging over to the bed in his slightly soggy socks. Handing Remus the potion bottle and the spoon sitting on the bedside table, he lay down next to him over the covers. Steam was soon filling the air as Remus' health returned to normal.
When Remus could finally see Sirius' face again, he patted the bed beside him.
"Climb in… it's nice and warm"
Sirius did as instructed, first taking off his snow-soaked articles of clothing before sliding under the warm duvet.
"MERLIN, SIRIUS! YOUR FEET ARE FREEZING!"