James and Sirius share a glance as Remus enters the dormitory. His face is full of concentration and he's limping slightly. Even at the tender age of twelve they can both tell he's trying to hide an injury.
"Hello Remus," James said carefully. "It's good to see you again. We were wondering if you were planning on coming back."
Remus avoided his gaze. "Well, here I am," he mumbled.
James frowned almost imperceptibly. They'd questioned him about where he'd gone the last time he disappeared, and he'd barely spoken to them for two weeks. This needed to be handled with diplomacy and tact.
"How come you haven't been here for three days?" Sirius demanded.
James sighed.
"I was visiting my mother," he said. "She's ill."
"Again?" Sirius asked.
"Yes."
"Did she break your leg, too?"
Remus glared at him. "My leg's not broken."
"Then why are you trying not to limp?"
"I sprained my ankle tripping over a stone. And I'm not "trying not to limp". It doesn't hurt that much." He glared defiantly at Sirius. "Is the interrogation over?"
Sirius glared back, but didn't reply. Remus turned and stalked over to his bed, his limp slightly more pronounced. But before he can draw the curtains, Sirius says, "Madam Pomfrey can heal sprains in seconds. You should go see her."
Remus's shoulders hunched. "It's not bothering me," he said. "I'm fine."
He drew the curtains, so he didn't see the look that flashed between Sirius and James. Remus was obviously hiding something, they knew. But they didn't know what.