"Snape's being a wanker again," James said, passing a plate of eggs and bacon to Remus. "He's found out about the whole hospital thing, somehow. And he's making snide comments. Shall I sort him out?" He took a sip from his Churchill mug. "Also, we need more milk," he added, spitting his lumpy tea back into the cup.
"Ah, my fault," said Sirius. "The milk, not the Snape thing. Although what can we do? Pranks are a little immature – "
"Pranks are a little immature?" said Peter, shoving an entire piece of toast into his mouth. "Who are you," he went on, spraying the table with crumbs, "and what have you done with Sirius Black?"
Remus snorted, and took a bite of scrambled egg. "The play's in a week, and he's so focused he's like a dog that's just had his knackers done," he pointed out.
"Our sex life is as fruitful and joyous as ever – " Sirius began, but Lily held up a hand.
"No sex talk at the breakfast table, Sirius. This isn't a sitcom. And regarding the Snape thing, we could perhaps invent a little rumour about him. Nothing too insidious, but perhaps – "
"We could start a rumour that he washes in sheep piss," said Peter. "It might encourage him to actually wash as well, which would make the staff room a better place."
"Good point," Sirius said, biting into his bacon sandwich with a look of ecstacy. "Or we could ruin his life for being mean to my boyfriend. Just a minor ruination, you understand – we could claim he ruins Grindelwald's fanclub. I've heard actually that Grindelwald is big into fascism now, which would make Snape seem bad. We could say he's a UKIP voter!"
"To be honest," James said, "that's not such a bad idea. I mean, he probably is. And he probably wanks over photos of Riddle. I refuse to call him by his stupid Twitter handle. He's got almost eighty thousand followers, have you seen?"
"Riddle's a tosser," Remus said, forcefully. "He was always on about not needing safe spaces at unis any more, and he was a big fan of talking about how abuse victims need to get over it and that sort of thing. We had a petition at our Phoenix, to do with cuts to mental health services, and he pissed all over it and shut us down anyway, and it's all – " and he broke off, breathing heavily. Sirius reached across the table to take his hand.
"Right, so. We start a rumour – Flitwick's a huge gossip and so is Sprout – that Snape's a dickwad fascist wankstain. And then we make this the greatest feminist Arthurian play ever performed, and our names go down in history. We could get a plaque. Anyone else fancy a plaque?" Sirius asked, rubbing circles into the back of Remus's hand with his thumb.
"I fancy a plaque," said Peter. "James, get on at the kids about the dangers of fascism. Lily, you'll have to nod when you hear and say it doesn't surprise you. Sirius, it might be best if you stay out of this, and Remus. You can keep each other occupied, I'm sure." He took a huge gulp of his tea. "I'll start spreading the rumour at a low level."
Lily gave him a high five, and James looked at her as if she had hung the stars in the sky.
"You're one of those people who says all year they want winter, and then complain about being cold, aren't you?" Sirius said to Remus, watching him pull his gloves on. "I mean, I'll keep you warm – " and he winked, leaning forwards to kiss him – "but you know, in summer I expect you to be wearing as little clothing as possible, to make up for all the woolly clothing."
"Snow's forecast, for one thing. And another, are you saying," Remus said, shoving his earmuffs onto his head, "that you don't find me sexy enough?"
Sirius laughed. "Perish the thought," he said. "Those are mine, though," and he nodded at the earmuffs. "I might need them for later – got a song-related rehearsal, and when we cast the minstrels we thought Melody Griffiths might live up to her name and heritage. Not at all, sadly. She sounds like a cat stuck in a drain," and Remus nodded sagely.
"Well, count yourself lucky – I've got to hang out with Noted Fascist Snape. He's worked out some maths shite to be put on large banners. Honestly, why the fuck did we agree to this play? But then it's lunchtime, and we can hold hands in our little smoking cubby – "
"We didn't actually," Sirius reminded him, locking the front door behind them. "James agreed to do the play, remember? Lily said if he did a good play and won the footie, and then did alright with the GCSE lot, she'd fuck him. Not in so many words – I think she was looking for an excuse to say yes to him – but it's something to do with teaching him the value of perseverance. And we're doing it – "
"Dare I suggest," Remus said, stamping his feet to warm them, "a little mutiny in the ranks?" They turned the corner, road busy with school kids and stinking of weed. The sky was grey and swollen with snow
"I love it when you talk dirty," Sirius said, solemnly. "But alas, we're so close. Four days until opening night, onwards and upwards, all that. Blitz spirit and stuff," he added, and Remus laughed, and pulled him close to kiss him. A snowflake drifted past them, and then another, and another.
"Get in there!" yelled a year twelve as she loped past holding hands with a year thirteen girl, and Sirius raised an eyebrow until Remus snorted and kissed him again, as soft as the snow that was floating from the clouds.
"I really do love you," Sirius said, quietly.
"You're a sap, Sirius Black," Remus told him, and smiled, eyes dark and wicked. "I love you too."
Year seven declared war on year eight, with year nine provided sarcastic commentary. A group of Slytherin boys built themselves, in the snow that fast covered the playing fields, a snow-cave. Waving a PE shirt, they called for a ceasefire, and then hurled the entire contents of their depot at Gryffindor. By break, there were three black eyes and one Gryffindor girl shoved snow down Snape's back, earning herself exclusion from the play, and by lunchtime Melody Griffiths had stopped singing in English and started swearing in a stream of Welsh.
"My mother was Welsh," Remus said, looking up at the sound. Sirius looked over to him, and his fingers itched with the urge to hold him, but instead he nodded.
"I'm sorry," he said, and Remus blinked twice and shrugged.
"She would have been so proud of you," Sirius went on. "I mean, the way you were brought up, and how you were when she and your da fostered you – and look at you now. I'm bloody proud of you. Boyfriends and mothers should always be proud," and Remus reached out to curl one finger around the cuff of Sirius's posh jumper.
"Love you," he said out of the corner of his mouth, and Sirius felt his heart leap.
"Sap," he said fondly, and Remus smiled, and turned his attention back to the stage.
"Right, you lot. I know it's very exciting that it's snowing, but we've got a play to put on. You all know your lines, which is very good, if terrifying. Music lot – how's it coming along?"
Felicity Buckle stood up, holding a flute. "Good thanks sir, as long as it's filmed for the GCSE stuff," and he nodded.
"Chemistry have delivered us some potions, which Merlin – Mr. Braithwaite, doing a marvellous Dumbledore impression – will be using to create flashes and bangs and whatnot. It's all coming together, isn't it?" He said, turning to Sirius.
"It looks great," said Sirius simply. "When it's over, I hope to slip into a coma," and Remus laughed and elbowed him, and Melody Griffiths stood up and suddenly her voice was in tune and mellifluous and out of the windows of the hall, the mountains and crags were snow-covered, and Sirius closed his eyes for a second and saw the Seeing Stone, heard the cheer of a crowd so desperate they'd crown a boy-king barely able to shave, and that great lake of legend stretching far into his imagination. He shivered. "It's going to be the best production we've ever done," he said, seriously. Remus smiled.
The night before the play, crammed round the little table in Remus's kitchen and eating vegetarian chilli, Sirius went over his lesson plans for the next week and James and Lily talked about Boadicea. They had discovered, at the last pub quiz of the Christmas term, that she had always been a hero of hers, and James had endeavoured to learn all about her, and it was teeth-rottingly sweet. She had taught herself more about Alfred the Great. Peter offered to help Dorcas and Marlene wash up, but was dispatched instead to the garden to pick some herbs for what was generally assumed to be some sort of ritual. Remus flicked through Morte d'Arthur one last time until he sighed, at which point Sirius passed him a cigarette.
"Anyone want a fag?" he said, standing up and feeling a wave of exhaustion crash over him. Remus took his hand, and when everybody murmured in the negative, they sloped outside to the little garden, full of herbs and strange, twisted-looking plants.
"That's nightshade," Remus said, pointing at one, but in the dark Sirius could hardly see it. "Poisonous – the girls grow lots of that, but I've forbidden it anywhere near the herb garden. They've put a hex on Snape, you'll be pleased to know," and Sirius laughed and lit their cigarettes and they sat at the tiny table, looking up at the moon.
"It'll be cold tonight," Sirius said. "Cold, and a full moon – creepy. I bet you knew that though, you weather nerd," and he exhaled a long stream of smoke that drifted up towards the stars. "I've seen those tattoos you have of the moon, remember? I've seen every tattoo – "
"Not every tattoo," Remus said, smugly. "We've not had the time or the energy for actual sex for about two days, so I took the opportunity and a long lunch break yesterday and got a new one, and you're not to see it until after the play," and he laughed as Sirius exclaimed and nudged him, and pulled him close to kiss him.
"We've not had sex," Sirius whispered, "but we've had some amazing blowjobs, and I've been thinking about that thing you do with your tongue every second I'm awake – "
"That can be repeated," Remus said, sucking a bruise into Sirius's collarbone. "Depends, though."
"Depends on what?" Sirius asked, wriggling his way across the bench until he was sat in Remus's lap. "I warn you, I'm at risk of becoming all whiny and needy – "
"This isn't being needy?" Remus asked, voice deepening with lust. "I mean, I'd hate to see you needy – "
"You'd love it," accused Sirius, reaching between them to stroke Remus through his jeans.
"That I would," Remus agreed, pulling Sirius's hair with his other hand. "It all depends, however," and he pulled back a little, enough to see Sirius's pout in the moonlight, "on whether you'll make brownies for the cast of the play, and also hash brownies for us, because your brownies are enough almost to convince me of the existence of a God," and Sirius laughed and kissed him.
"Consider it done," he said, and Remus took his hand and pulled him after him upstairs, and in his little bedroom surrounded by books Remus, with his clever hand and cleverer tongue, made Sirius howl.
The morning of the play was frosty; not only had the night got cold enough to leave the car windows and pavement sparkling, but Peter and James had clearly had an argument overnight and were ignoring each other in the staff room. Sirius cornered James coming out of the gents. "What the hell is going on?" he hissed, and James rolled his eyes.
"Peter suggested that not only do we all have a duty to try to get him a girlfriend, but that any girl who did not want to go out with him is ugly, or something. He seems to have turned into a bit of a men's rights activist since we all fell in love with people. Jealousy, or something?" James explained, wiping his hands on his trousers.
"Ah," Sirius said. "I saw him talking to Snape the other day. You don't think – "
"Think they're friends? Don't be repulsive. I'm sure it's nothing, but we need to keep an eye on him. I don't know if I want to find him a girlfriend at this rate, because he's being such a dickhead that he'd treat her like shit." James paused, breathing heavily. "He's also gone a bit – well, not homophobic, but he's been muttering about how open you and Remus are. Not really sure what to make of it all – maybe it's the pressure of exams? He's got some kids doing retakes. He's always felt a bit thick compared to us, you know he has – "
"Yeah but that's not an excuse for being a tosspot," Sirius said, reasonably. "I want to punch his lights out," and James grabbed his arm.
"We're teachers," he reminded him. "We'll give him time. I mean, he might get over it. It might just be a tantrum – "
"We need to focus on the play," Sirius said, vision still red-tinged. "We need to – we need to focus on the play," he repeated, and James nodded.
"We'll talk to him afterwards. There's too much at stake. Benjy Fenwick's in pieces and he's only a sub at the moment – "
"Right, right, let's focus," Sirius muttered, and they headed towards the hall, where the cast – seemingly half the school – were gathered.
Time flew, in that weird way that time does when it would be far more helpful if they approached light-speed and relativity kicked in and it slowed instead. Sirius found himself zoning out of rehearsals, daydreaming about Remus in some sort of regency costume, maybe involving leather riding boots, jumping off a horse or walking out of a lake in a wet shirt –
James slammed the lyrics book down in front of him, waking him with a start. "You're dribbling," he said, and Sirius swore and wiped his mouth.
"It was drooling, actually," he said, taking a sip of now-cold tea. "Besides, I didn't get much sleep – "
"I heard," James said, grimacing. "The noises of the act itself were enough, but then you swearing and doing god-knows-what with the headboard – at least Remus was silent," and Sirius looked at him smugly until he worked it out and clapped his hands to his eyes, rubbing them as if it would clear the mental picture in his head.
"I don't know why you're looking so disgusted," Sirius said. "You've heard it all before, and anyway I know Lily likes putting her fingers – "
"Enough," James said, weakly. "You need to stop falling asleep. I've got Perkins to get us some coffee, which he's more than grateful to do since he has apparently caused what has only been whispered about as a calamity with the projector. Curtains go up in three hours, so I've ordered about nine thousand pizzas and the kids have eaten their body weight in cheese. Fuck Jamie Oliver, the mousy-haired fuck."
"Where's Remus?" Sirius asked, looking for him amongst the groups of children. It was strange to see girls in dresses and chainmail, and boys in dresses and chainmail, eating pizza and texting.
"He's gone home," James said. "You forgot to bring the brownies in, and I think he forgot his medication this morning – speaking of which, you have been taking yours, haven't you?"
"Yes, yes, and I can drink on it, we know this – can I pop back to check on him? I left them in our kitchen, shit, he hasn't got a key – "
"He's strangely good at picking locks, but I gave him mine. Half an hour then, run back or we'll use you instead of the dummy in the stocks scene," and Sirius grabbed his jacket and half-ran, half-flew back to his house.
Remus was in the kitchen, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. "Remus?" he said, gently. Remus looked up; he had been crying, but now he was breathing far too fast, and his eyes were unfocused. "Remus, I want you to breathe with me," he said, and slowed his breathing. Remus took a jagged, shuddering breath – more of a gasp – and clutched at Sirius's hand, but he was still breathing too quickly.
"Okay," Sirius said, sitting down next to Remus. "You're having a panic attack – shit, I'm sorry, I imagine you know that – but I want you to breathe in with me, for a count of ten. Alright?" and he inhaled, as slowly as he'd inhale a spliff, and Remus nodded mutely and breathed with him, breath still juddering. They breathed out, and Remus relaxed his tightened shoulders a little, and closed his eyes again. On the next breath, Remus reached out to hold both of his hands properly and clammily. "Okay," Sirius said again, and Remus leant back a little, and wiped his eyes with his hand.
"Fucking hell," he said shakily. "Thought I was going to die for a minute. Silly, I know – "
"Hey hey," Sirius said. "You've seen me take my medication, right? I'm never going to think you're silly. In fact, I think you're rather wonderful, but you're still a bit stressed because you've gone delightfully northern – "
Remus laughed, pressing his lips to the back of Sirius's hand. "I'm just a bit – it's the play, you know? I mean, it's all so much and it's still only the spring term and this has been happening for a whole, and I was too afraid to tell you, and then we've got exams – " and his breathing was getting faster until he visibly forced himself to breathe more slowly, eyes locked with Sirius's. "Sorry," he said, and Sirius nodded.
"Don't say sorry, please. Would it make you feel any better if we skipped the play? There are four more performances, and the kids will understand – "
"I can't let them down," Remus said, eyes wide. "I don't want – "
"Hey," Sirius said. "Thinking about it, actually. Lily wanted this whole thing to be done by James, right? I mean, as we both know they're disgustingly in love, but the quest won't be completed unless it's James who puts on the play. The kids know how much work we put into it, and so did James, but I know you. I know you don't like being in the spotlight – "
"You do," said Remus, in a low voice. "You love it – "
"I love you more," Sirius said fiercely. "I love you more, and I'd much rather sit on the kitchen floor with you and discuss the demerits of the Hobbitfilms than sit through one more rehearsal of the play. Go and get comfy on the sofa, love. I'll give James a quick ring," and he kissed Remus on the forehead before getting up, and pulling Remus up with him before propelling him towards the door.
Flicking the kettle on, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, hit speed dial, and James picked up almost immediately. "Alright mate," he said, cheerfully, pulling out two chipped mugs from the cupboard. "So, just saw Remus, and he's been having panic attacks for what must be ages. He didn't want to admit to it, but – "
"Stay at home with him," James said immediately. "Honestly, don't worry. The kids know how much you two have done, and you can come another time if he's feeling up to it – "
Sirius smiled, sending a silent prayer to the heavens for putting he and James in the same French class. "Thank you so much. I'm sorry – "
"Don't apologise, make sure he's alright. Get him some chocolate and maybe a white hot chocolate, he likes them – "
"With little sprinkles on top, yeah, got it. Thank you so much, honestly. Plus side – I get to cuddle him, we can discuss Legolas looking weird in the Hobbit, and you can tell Lily you did a brilliant play – " He shoved two teabags into the cups, poured the water in, and went hunting for the milk and the chocolate.
"Lily knows it was all you two," James said, sounding amused. "She wanted me to pass on actually that if you two ever have a child, you'll raise them to be terrifyingly well-rounded and brilliant, which is a lovely if alarming sentiment. Maybe get a dog first – "
"Piss off back to your play," Sirius said, grinning. "Love you, I'll see you later. I'll get some disgusting beers in for you and Lily for later. Break a leg, and all that – "
"Don't say that," James muttered, "the pulley system was looking a bit ropey, and before you say that's the point I'm off. Love you. Best to Remus," and he hung up. Sirius found a tray (Beautiful Dorset, it proclaimed, which meant it was Peter's, and his thoughts turned to that predicament before he refocused) and stuck the teas on it, as well as some chocolate buttons, and headed through to the living room.
"Alright love," he said, passing Remus a cup. Remus was curled up on the sofa, but when Sirius sat down he shifted until they were close enough that Sirius could smell his shower gel. "How are you feeling?"
"Bit shit," said Remus, matter-of-factly, "but lots better now that you're here," and Sirius kissed him.
"I will have to pop out in about three hours, to deliver the brownies," he said sadly, and Remus tugged him closer.
"I'll come with you," he said, and kissed Sirius before he could object. "I'm sure," he went on, taking a sip from his tea. "I want to see how it went myself. Thank you for – for not being a dick," he muttered, burying his nose in his cup.
"If I don't take my medication in the right dose," said Sirius, "I tend to go completely loopy. Actually when I was first seeing the doctor, they thought it was depression until the antidepressants sent me manic and off to Manchester on some wild idea about the northern powerhouse; James found me, having given all my money to some homeless girls. But enough of that, medication is a wonderful thing, I am happy and in love," and Remus hummed against his lips and then sat up.
"I've queued up the first Hobbit film, which I think is the second-weakest," he said. "Or, since it is sort of play day, you could see my new tattoo – "
"We can do whatever you want," Sirius promised, and watched Remus's eyes darken.
"You can see my new tattoo," he said, and went to shrug off his t-shirt. "Do you think – "
"Do I want you to fuck me on the sofa? Remus, you can fuck me pretty much anywhere and I wouldn't complain. I want you to fuck me all the time," he added, earnestly, tugging at Remus's t-shirt.
"Sounds tiring," Remus said, smirking, and kissed him, bringing his hands up to pull at Sirius's hair; Sirius went pliant, and then kissed him harder, biting at his lip and tugging at his t-shirt again. "Nope," Remus told him, holding his hands down. "You can only see the tattoo – " and he gasped, as Sirius turned his attention and his lips to Remus's exposed collarbone – "when I say you can," and Sirius whined against his lips but did not question it. "Good boy," Remus whispered, and Sirius half-squirmed his way on Remus's lap.
"I want to ride you," he said, breathlessly. "I want – I want to feel every inch of you inside me and fuck, fuck, I've missed this, it's been two days and I'm so easy for you and – "
Remus kissed him again, pulled at his jeans and his boxers until they were on the floor. "I'd love to see that. You know, when you get turned on – " and he reached out to pull at Sirius's t-shirt, dragging it off over his head and sending his hair even wilder – "that your entire chest flushes?" and he kissed Sirius's neck, and the space between his collarbones, and then down his chest and muscled waist, and then nudged Sirius until he moved far back enough that Remus could bury his thumbs in the hollows of Sirius's hips and slide to his knees on the floor and look at Sirius's cock, red and leaking. He reached out a hand to touch it, and Sirius's whole body jerked.
"Please," he said, and he sounded wrecked already. "Remus, please, please," and Remus smiled and leant forwards to take him in his mouth; Sirius groaned, too loudly for the small space, and reached out to put his hands in Remus's hair, and Remus licked along the underside of his cock and closed his eyes and felt Sirius half-buck and wriggle above him, and in what felt like no time at all Sirius threw his head back and said "Remus, I – " and he came, hot and wet and filthy, and Remus swallowed it all and thought about how he loved even this taste and Sirius was half-whispering his name like a prayer, and Remus opened his eyes and drew back, swallowing again, lips swollen.
"You taste so good," he said, and Sirius reached out to drag him back onto the sofa and kissed his head, his neck, his chest.
"Fucking hell," he said. "I love you, ever mentioned it?" and Remus laughed and kissed his forehead.
"Where were we?" Remus asked, reaching out to switch on the light. Sirius muttered something, still breathing heavily, and bit his neck. "I think," said Remus, slowly, "I was about to show you my new tattoo. I think you're going to like it – it's quite personal, you see. One might say it represents a serious commitment – "
"It's not my face, is it?" Sirius asked, grinning. Remus smacked him on the arse, and raised an eyebrow at the moan which Sirius let out.
"It's not your face, but we're certainly going to explore how much you reacted to that," and Sirius kissed him and pulled at his t-shirt, and this time Remus let him. "It's on my ribs," he said, suddenly shy, and reached out to pull off the covering.
Sirius sat back, eyes wide. "Fucking hell, is that – is that what I think it is?"
"What do you think it is?" Remus asked, as Sirius leaned forwards to kiss his neck.
"Well, it looks like Canis Major, the dog star, the one with - the one with Sirius in – " and when Remus nodded he kissed him again and again and again. "Thank you," he managed, finally. "Nobody – nobody ever really seemed to want me around, before. This is the most romantic thing anybody has ever done for me – really, you – you're so fucking lovely," he said fervently, kissing Remus again. "Thank you."
"Well," Remus said, "it only seemed fair, since you know, I've half moved in here and all. You might not have noticed this, but James has been spending a lot more time at Lily's, and I've been spending so much time here, that he suggested I move in here. So I have been slowly shifting my stuff across – very slowly, at a glacial pace you understand – so that you wouldn't be alone, if he moves out slowly," and Sirius kissed him again.
"I did wonder," he said, grinning, "whether I'd bought that hideous cactus, but I'd chalked it up to a potential mania spending-spree thing – "
"She's called Hilary and she's a trans cactus – "
"You're a fucking Guardian-reading cliché," accused Sirius, laughing against his lips, and what was a gentle kiss turned into his hands in Remus's lap and Remus's hands in his hair, and then Sirius arched his back, and shifted, and said "Please fuck me, you did promise –" so politely that Remus could only laugh and kiss him and find the lube from where it had fallen down the side of the sofa and, pressing him back into the sofa and moving Sirius's legs to his shoulders, work him open so slowly with fingers and tongue that by the time Sirius was ready, he was also hard again.
"You're eager," Remus, pulling back and looking slightly silly with Sirius's Wallace and Gromit covered-feet adorning his shoulders, and Sirius looked up at him, eyes blown with lust and muscles shaking with desire, and Remus swore and flipped them over – almost falling off the sofa – so that Sirius was sat on top of him. "Earlier," Remus said, "you were all sorts of desperate about wanting to ride me. And honestly, the view it would give me of you – your muscles, your hair falling in your face, the way your eyelids flutter – would be enough to keep me satiated on memory alone for a hundred lifetimes – are you still interested?" and he slid a finger back where it belonged, crooked it, and was rewarded when he heard Sirius's breath hitch.
"Yes," breathed Sirius, and he lowered himself onto Remus's cock, which was so hard he was impressed his brain was still functioning, and half-hissed at the burn he loved so much. "Move," he said, and Remus did, and Sirius twisted his hips and started to mutter, all the things he loved about Remus, all the thoughts he'd ever had about him, and Remus shifted them slightly and Sirius tilted until the angle was perfect and his vision washed white for a second, and then Remus moved faster and faster and Sirius reached down to stroke himself and at the sight, Remus's entire body stiffened and he came with a shout and kept fucking Sirius through it until Sirius let go and his whole brain went blank and everything was Remus and pleasure and he realised, quite suddenly, that Remus was the best thing that ever happened to him, and when he said so Remus smiled and pulled him close.
"Sticky," he said, unable to manage sentences much longer than that, and Sirius laughed and handed him a t-shirt from the pile on the floor.
"I love you," he reminded him, and watched Remus's entire torso blush. "How are you feeling?" Remus looked at him, and blinked, and took another half-minute before he answered.
"How am I feeling, he asks. Well, I just came so hard that I think I blacked out for a second there, and I'm with the person I love most in the world, so I'm pretty chipper – "
"No, I mean about earlier," Sirius clarified, stroking Remus's cheek. "Are you – "
"I'll be fine now," Remus said. "Not that sex is a cure of course – but I've got you, and you understand. I might never get better – "
"I don't care," Sirius said. "I love you exactly as you are," and then he snorted. "I'm quoting fucking Bridget Jones at you but I don't care, as it is an excellent film," and Remus laughed.
"It is, isn't it? I think I've got it on my laptop – and actually, you've made me laugh more in the past few hours than I have all week. I have a tendency to – to take on too much, and then panic about doing it all, and then I end up crying on the kitchen floor like a baby – "
"Let's watch Bridget Jones," Sirius told him, and they did.