A/N: Remus and Sirius try to smooth things out a little; Harry and Ron have a manly talk. And... action!

In the past, Remus had found himself in his fair share of awkward situations, one of the top most awkward occasions included James walking in on one of Sirius and his more – er – passionate moments (subsequently using the excuse that his eyes had gone blind out of self-defence to make Remus do his homework for him for days afterwards), but this had to be the most awkward dinner he had been at for a long time.

There wasn't even the tinkling sound of cutlery to break the stifling silence because Harry had ordered pizza; there was only the sound of muffled chewing and dry swallowing. Initially Harry had attempted, with forced cheeriness, to make some small talk, but that had gradually dwindled out and the five occupants of the table simply focused on the task of digesting mouthful after mouthful of doughy bread, all of which seemed completely tasteless to Remus.

Sirius was sitting the farthest away from him at the opposite end of the table. The Animagus's anxiety was palpable across the entire kitchen, and every once in a while Remus felt Sirius glance over his way, but immediately shift his gaze the minute Remus raised his head.

It was infuriating.

His return with Harry for dinner had been rather anti-climatic as he was greeted with a surprised but delighted smile from Hermione and a cheerful pat on the back from Ron. Sirius had started forward with a clearly relieved "Remus—" but stopped himself short and fallen back suddenly, remaining a good few feet away, and simply stood there scrutinizing his face as if he believed everything Remus had to say was written on his face.

He'd offered to help Harry get the pizza and set the table. It gave him something to do and at least allowed him to avoid talking to Sirius a little longer.

They had now, however, been sitting at the table for at least half an hour, and neither of them had said a word to each other beyond Sirius's one word greeting almost a full hour ago. Remus was beginning to feel slightly ridiculous. On the table, only one of the three giant pizzas that Harry ordered had been finished. Remus had only eaten half of his first slice, finding himself unable to swallow. A glance at Sirius's plate told him he had done no better.

It was Ron who finally broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," the redhead said in a pained voice, "but this has to be one of the worst forms of torture I've ever gone through. And that's including everything I went through in the war."

He yelped as a received a sharp nudge from Hermione's elbow.

Remus tried to smile, but the muscles in his jaw seemed to have stopped working completely.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Why don't we leave you two alone?" She asked, looking at Remus pointedly. "I think I can safely say that none of us want any more pizza."

Remus looked over at Sirius, but the Animagus suddenly appeared fascinated by the wood patterns of the dining table.

"I think that's a brilliant idea," Harry said reverently. Remus managed to throw him a look of reproach, to which Harry's attempt to muster up a look of sympathy in response wavered and failed completely. Mouthing 'good luck', Harry waved to Ron and Hermione. "Come on. You two, feel free to talk as long as you like," he added over his shoulder as he herded his two best friends towards the door, "I won't need the kitchen until morning."

Remus did a mental double take. He wondered if he was starting to go mad or if he had actually seen Harry wink at them.

The kitchen door swung shut.

Deciding he'd had enough, he opened his mouth with the vague plan to make a noise – any sort of noise, and if it turned out to be a coherent sentence then that was even better – when Sirius finally unhinged his jaw and spoke first:

"What'd you reckon he was implying?"

Any sound he could have made died in his throat, more out of surprise than anything else. As Sirius finally looked up and met his eyes, Remus felt the laughter bubbling up inside him like a pot about the boil, slowly rising to the surface until he couldn't hold it in any longer. Before he knew it, both he and Sirius were laughing like maniacs.

And it felt good.

###

Harry had barely taken five steps from the kitchen door when the sound of cheerful laughter erupted from behind him. Ron gave him an exasperated look.

"Typical. We leave, and they start acting like normal human beings again. Bloody hell, that was the worst dinner I've ever had to sit through."

"I thought I was going to wither up and die."

"Oh do be quiet, both of you," Hermione interrupted, looking peeved. "Why can't either of you be more sensitive? To be honest, I feel sorry for Remus. I can't even begin to imagine what he must be feeling like right now."

"You were itching to get out of there as much as us, 'Mione, don't lie."

"Well," she sniffed. "At least I was more polite about it." She cast a glance at her watch and sighed. "Right, I'm off. I have to feed Crookshanks. I asked Mum to help me feed him today but I'm guessing she's forgotten."

She began putting on her coat and paused, one arm partway through a dark blue sleeve. She raised an eyebrow when she noticed that Ron was still hovering beside Harry, looking apprehensive and just a little guilty. "Aren't you coming?"

"I, er, think I'm going to hang out here for a while," Ron mumbled. "Need some male company. Man talk."

Hermione's other eyebrow disappeared beneath her frizzy fringe as well. "Man talk?"

"You know what I mean," Ron said, pink-faced.

She examined him for a moment, then narrowed her eyes at Harry, who held up both hands in a show of I don't know what he's talking about. Rolling her eyes, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and said, "Fine. Just don't get into trouble, you two. Enjoy your man talk." Pinning her boyfriend with a final stare, she turned and headed briskly out the front door before pausing again and turning to add, almost as an afterthought, "And remember we've got a date tomorrow, Ronald—don't be late." The door clicked shut behind her.

Harry had a hand over his mouth and was attempting to unsuccessfully smother his laughter. He took a deep breath. "Real affectionate, you two."

Ron glowered at him silently.

Harry swallowed his laughter with difficulty, though he couldn't quite wipe the smirk off his face. He decided it would be smarter to change the subject. "So what was that all about, then?"

Looking around in what could only be described as furtively, Ron ushered Harry into the living room, snapping on the light and closing the door. "Did you know?" He asked, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper.

Running a hand through his hair in a way that was very reminiscent of his father, Harry dropped into an armchair. Every bone in his body felt like it was crying in pain. "Ron, if you're going to start using riddles like Hermione, I swear I'm—"

The redhead inched closer, face almost directly next to Harry's, and spoke in a stage whisper. "It's changed."

Harry blinked and scooted a good few inches away. "Okay, you're creeping me out a little. What the hell are you talking about? What's changed?"

Ron gave him a look that seemed to mourn the intelligence level of his friends, an expression that Harry was sure he picked up from Hermione. "Come on, mate. I'm talking about Tonks's Patronus."

"Tonks's—" Harry stopped abruptly and stared. Then he turned and hurriedly pointed his wand at the door, muttered a quick "muffliato" and turned back to Ron. "Hang on, how did you know?"

Ron gaped at him. "Wait, how did you know?"

"Tonks's Patronus was here this afternoon, asking me where Remus was." He scrutinized Ron's expression. "Guess she did the same thing to you?" Another thought occurred to him and he looked up sharply. "Did Sirius see it?"

"Yeah, he did—but I don't think he got the significance of that. He died before—well, all of that happened. The moment he heard Remus was missing that was all he could think of."

"Right. Good." Harry rubbed his eyes. "Do you know what it's changed to?"

Ron lowered himself into the armchair opposite him, looking thoughtful. After a moment he shook his head. "It seemed—undecided," he said. "Strangely enough. Like it was trying to turn into a form, but couldn't quite manage it, you know? Except I would have thought if that was the case, then she wouldn't have been able to cast a Patronus at all, let alone send a message."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I think for me, it seemed to turn into an animal just briefly—but it was so quick I couldn't tell what it was."

Ron was staring into the black soot of the cold fireplace, brows furrowed. "You know what this means though, don't you, mate?"

He nodded again, then shook his head. Tonks's Patronus changing into a werewolf for Remus was a well-known story by now. The fact that her Patronus had changed—or was changing—again… he wasn't sure he knew what that implied. Or if he wanted to know. It wasn't really any of his business, after all. He had the distinct feeling he shouldn't be talking about it.

Ron, however, had no such qualms.

"They're having problems," he told him, voice low. "I heard Mum and Dad talking about it the other day at the Burrow. They've been fighting more, she's barely home for dinner, and with him still unemployed…" He drifted off.

Harry picked at a loose thread on the armchair. "Do you think they'll…" But he drifted off as well, not wanting to finish the sentence.

Ron shrugged. "Who knows? It's a marriage, mate. Those things can be lethal sometimes." He paused. "Don't tell mum I said that," he added sheepishly.

He let out a loud snort. "Or Hermione."

Ron looked vaguely green.

Feeling marginally better about how his day had gone, Harry grinned and clapped his best friend on the shoulder. "No worries, mate. You'd better go now, though, and get some sleep. Don't want to be late for your date tomorrow."

He ducked to avoid Ron's half-hearted punch and headed upstairs with the sense that maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out okay.

###

In the kitchen, the atmosphere had lightened considerably. Sirius got up from his seat and went over to the coffee machine. "Want some?" He said, pulling down two coffee mugs from the shelf without waiting for an answer.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Are you making me coffee? You've never made me coffee. Ever."

Sirius almost looked put out. "Well, don't ruin it."

"Sorry."

He watched Sirius pour the coffee, his mind still processing the situation. He couldn't help but feel that this had to be one of the top most surreal moments of his life.

He could feel the air starting to thicken again. Determined to avoid another silence like the one that had just passed, he said, "So, how've you been?" He felt like slapping himself the moment the words were out of his mouth. How've you been? It was such a regular question that it seemed inadequate to start this conversation with. But, he supposed, there wasn't really a right way to start this conversation either way.

Sirius glanced over at him in the middle of spooning out teaspoonfuls of sugar. He had just put a third spoonful into his own mug. He liked it sweet.

"I've been… fine, mostly." Sirius stirred the hot black liquid in both mugs, letting the spoon clink against the porcelain louder than necessary. "Harry's taking care of me."

Remus let out a snort before he could stop himself. "Some godfather you are."

Sirius stilled and Remus cursed himself silently. Too early for that?

Then the Animagus cracked a grin. Picking up both mugs, he went round the table and set one in front of Remus, then deliberately slid into the chair next to him. "Like you can talk. I heard you had to be dragged back today like a baby."

"I was not!" Remus said indignantly.

Sirius chuckled into his coffee.

He took a sip of his own coffee and paused. Black. One sugar. Sirius had remembered how he took his coffee.

"Don't you put milk in your coffee?"

"No. I only add one sugar to my coffee. I like it quick and easy."

"Me too, Moony. But sometimes long and hard is good too."

"Sirius, you're a dirty minded pervert."

"You love me for it, Moons."

"Don't call me Moons. Why do you want to know how I drink coffee anyway? It's not like you'll ever get off your arse to make me any."

"Aw, don't be like that, Moons. You never know. I might surprise you."

Remus shook his head briefly, shaking himself out of the memory, feeling slightly off-balanced. He did his best to ignore the slight jolt that his heart just made.

Sirius cleared his throat and scratched the side of his neck unconsciously. Remus immediately braced himself; the scratching was Sirius's nervous habit, it meant he was getting ready to say something that was going to be potentially extremely uncomfortable and awkward.

When Sirius spoke, his voice was so soft Remus had to lean forward a fraction to hear what he said.

"I…I heard you got married. Congratulations."

Ah. Remus winced inwardly, but then he realized there had been no hint of bitterness or resentment in Sirius's tone. Feeling only marginally relieved, and not quite knowing what to say or where to look, he stared down at the black pool in his mug and mumbled, "Thanks."

There were too many roads, too many directions that this conversation could go, none of which Remus was prepared to take at the moment. He cast his mind about wildly for another topic but came up with nothing.

Sirius, however, seemed to sense his reluctance. Tentatively, but with a genuine smile, he said, "You have a son?"

This time the relief was complete. "Yes. Teddy." He felt suddenly much lighter just at the mention of his baby boy and relaxed a little, leaning back in his chair. Digging his fingers into the front pocket of his jeans he pulled out a tattered-looking leather wallet and from that fished out a photograph of Teddy, laughing at the camera and pulling at fistfuls of rainbow-colored hair. He handed the photo to Sirius.

The Animagus let out his trademark bark of laughter. "He's wonderful, Moony. That's some hair he's got."

Remus grinned, but Sirius suddenly looked uncomfortable. Frowning, he cast his mind back over the conversation and something clicked in his mind.

"Hey now, don't mock my son's hair. It's still far better than your floppy mop, Padfoot."

Sirius blinked at him. "Right." He blinked a couple more times and seemed to smile to himself before finally fully computing what Remus had said. A look that remarkably resembled a wounded puppy settled over his features. "Oi! I'll have you know this hairstyle is very hip at the moment."

Remus laughed, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "You haven't changed your hairstyle at all, Padfoot. And if you want to fit in to the times don't say 'hip'."

Looking affronted, Sirius grumbled, "Oh, like you're so in with the times. And I'll say any damn word I like." But his eyes were shining and there was a familiar comfortable crooked smile playing on his lips.

Draining the last of his coffee, Remus suddenly realized he was happy. Sitting in the kitchen, laughing and joking with Sirius Black, he realized was happier than he had been for a long time.

"You know," he mused, "honestly, I'm surprised that you managed to hold out for this long without any contact. What with your patience and your attention-span…" He drifted off as he caught Sirius's guilty look. Frames and pictures jostled in his mind until it fell into place, and all of a sudden it was clear.

He stared at Sirius in disbelief.

"You sent me that copy of The Quibbler!"

Slowly, Sirius inched backwards in his seat. "Erm. Well, technically, yes."

He stood up from his seat and glared. "Sirius Black, you're a bloody arsehole."

"Moony—"

"You died, and then you came back to fucking life, waited one month before telling me and now you're saying you didn't even have enough faith in me to believe that I'd remember the date of your death?"

"I—"

"Did you honestly think I'd forget?"

"No!" Sirius said loudly. "I didn't—fuck!" He cursed as he'd backed so far backwards that he had almost fallen off his chair. Grabbing the edge of the table, he pulled himself back up just in time. "Look, I didn't think you'd forget, but I just… I wasn't sure if…" Sirius let out a howl of frustration and he gave the legs of the table a kick for good measure. "Ow! Okay, listen, I didn't you'd forget, but I wasn't sure if you wanted to remember. I just wanted to make sure you did so you'd go to Godric's Hollow that day."

Remus said nothing. He was sure Sirius could feel him seething underneath the surface.

Sirius gave him a pleading look. "Remus, I set myself a dare that day. I wanted to see you. And I wanted you to see me. But I was scared. So I set myself a dare and told myself that if I was man enough I'd go and meet you on the day I died. I sent you the magazine just to make sure you'd show up."

From his vantage point, Remus regarded Sirius, a range of emotions toiling inside him. The man sitting in front of him was his oldest friend, his best friend, his fellow Marauder, his first love and occasionally, the most irritating idiot on the planet. He had died, but had now somehow, amazingly, miraculously, been returned to him.

He raised his hand.

Sirius looked resigned. "Go on. Hit me if you have to. I suppose I deserve it." He closed his eyes.

Remus's hand lunged forward, grabbed the front of Sirius's shirt and yanked him upwards. The Animagus's eyes flew open in surprise a moment before he found himself wrapped in a fierce hug.

Remus closed his own eyes as he felt Sirius's arms come around to embrace him just as tightly and breathed in deeply, filling his mind and awakening his senses again to the familiar smell of Sirius. His hands curled around the material of Sirius's shirt.

He's really here.

And standing in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, locked in the arms of a man he never dreamed he'd see alive again, Remus Lupin allowed the seed of just the tiniest fraction of hope to be planted in his heart.

For now, that was all he needed.

La la la. Writing the end of this chapter made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Ahem. So how's it going?

Reviews would be awesome!