When Remus got back to the dorm, he felt even worse than when he'd first dragged himself to the infirmary. It didn't hurt anymore, after the healing, but he felt drained and drawn and stretched far too thin. He'd caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror leaving the infirmary: his face was pale and blotchy, his eyes bloodshot, outlined with dark circles. He'd insisted he would be fine to return to the tower alone, but he didn't feel it.

Sirius was waiting for him when he came, sitting agitatedly in an overstuffed chair in the common room. He didn't look as if he'd had much sleep, either, and when he smiled, it looked forced. "Hi," he said quietly, in a strange sort of voice. "I-- I was wondering how long you'd be, because." He stopped, and didn't say anything more until he'd escorted Remus upstairs to their dormitory. Remus felt as though every word Sirius didn't say hung heavily and dragged at him.

"I think," Sirius said earnestly, when they were above, "I think we might be able to do it soon."

"Oh," said Remus. He crawled into bed, and poked his head around the bedcurtains. "That's, that's great." And it was. It felt, not like the sun after a storm, but still better than nothing.

"Thanks," he said, after a pause. But as he closed his eyes, he realised that, no, that wasn't what he'd meant to say at all: he'd had enough time to think about that, away from Sirius. He breathed in, and when he opened his eyes, Sirius was gone, anyway.

 

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