When Sirius, Remus, and Peter arrived home after the long night of watching Superman - and then debating Superman - the flat in East London was dark and quiet. Peter scurried to his room, bidding the other two goodnight with great big yawns that made Sirius snicker once his door was closed. "You and Prongs made him think too much about Wonder Woman doing the hanky panky," Sirius declared, following Remus into the kitchen. 

"It really only stayed being about that for a few minutes before it turned into more of a debate about how the sun could give him power," Remus said, opening the fridge and taking out the chocolate milk. He waved a wand and a glass flew to the table from the cupboard. He poured himself a half glass, drank it quickly and refilled the glass to the top before putting the bottle away. "We decided that it was similar to solar power producing electricity."

Sirius nodded at the chocolate milk, "Things on your mind, Moony?"

Remus shrugged.

Sirius waved his wand and produced a silly straw in the glass with three loop-de-loops in a bright hot pink color. He grinned.

Remus took a sip of the milk through the straw, eyes crossing to watch it loop-de-loop before it reached his mouth. "Ahhh," he said, letting go of the straw.

"For real, though," Sirius said, his eyes - well, serious. "Chocolate milk?"

Remus shrugged again, "Just needed a little pick-me-up, I guess." Honestly, he was still thinking nearly constantly about the werewolves, about the things Dumbledore had said about them, and his talk with Lily during the full moon night. The movies they'd watched had barely drawn his attention away, honestly, and every time somebody was in peril and Superman managed to save the day, Remus wondered if it was possible - maybe, just maybe - that he could be saving somebody instead of wasting time thinking about it. "I guess I'm missing Ned Veigler," he said by way to give Sirius an explanation without fully lying - because of course any time he thought about the werewolves, he thought about Ned.

Sirius frowned and sat down in the chair next to where Remus stood. He rested a chin on his hand and stared up at Remus. "I know you miss him a great deal." Sirius ran his hand along Remus's arm. He could feel the prickly little jolts of anxiousness that ran up his fingertips with each touch of Remus's skin.

"More than you know," Remus answered.

"I reckon it's probably very much like the way I miss the little pondscum sample that was my brother," Sirius murmured.

Remus was always uncomfortable the way Sirius spoke about Regulus. Like, did he miss him? Did he not? Did he call him things like that because it was too hard to speak the boy's name? Because he was still mourning or because he really was as indifferent as he pretended to be? Remus suspected of course that Sirius was trying to make lighter than he really felt about it and that was why all the jokes, but sometimes Sirius said things so flippantly that it became hard to believe it wasn't real.

"Something like that," Remus murmured.

Sirius bit his lower lip and thought for a moment, then, "Why don't you go to Fallengunder - just floo in and check-see if his portrait is any more sentient than it was last time we went. Blimey, can you believe that's all the way back at holiday? Surely he's come a way since then. Hell, by now he might be fully aware."

Remus nodded, "I ought to do that, you're right."

Sirius grinned, "Now and then I have a moment of being right." 

Remus finished his chocolate milk and they went down the hall to the bedroom. Sirius looked up at the portrait of Regulus, which hadn't woken up since he'd spoken to it during his mad dash home the day of the World Cup. The portrait was leaning against the frame, asleep again, looking peaceful. Sirius sighed and hurriedly kicked off his boots and jeans and climbed into bed while Remus took his time changing and toodling about the room doing little chores - like picking up Sirius's things and putting them in the hamper.

When Remus had finished, he climbed in bed, too, lay there on his back a couple minutes, thinking about everything... Then he rolled over, touched Sirius's back and said, "I know I'm not the Man of Steel but --"

Sirius rolled over, grinning, and attacked Remus with a great deal of kisses.

Since the night Lily had love-magicked James, he hadn't had a single nightmare. He realized this when he woke up in the morning to the feeling of Roger making biscuits against his sternum, purring loudly for his breakfast. James stretched, every muscle in his body relaxed for once, and scratched the cat behind the ears as he stared at the window. Outside, the leaves were turning colors and there was a breeze ruffling the tree outside. He yawned and slid his arm across the mattress and squeezed Lily's fingers with his own. He nestled into the pillows, preparing for a lie-in.

Roger's purring redoubled persistently. 

"Okay Roger, hang on," James murmured and he reached over for his wand. Roger always ate breakfast in the morning, while James and Lily were getting ready for the day, on a plate, sitting in the bedroom window and looking out over the road below. Consequently, they kept said plate and the cans of cat food in a drawer in a little table by the window. With a flick of his wand, James summoned the plate and can of food over, popped the lid, unceremoniously dumped the can out onto the platter, and levitated it back to the window sill. Roger jumped down and raced it over, licking his chops as he leaped up and started scarfing at it before it had even landed fully. "You'd think we never fed you," James said.

Suddenly, Lily was sitting up, gagging.

"Evans?" James looked 'round at her, but she was already sitting up, hand over her mouth, and running from the room.

James looked at Roger, then got up, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand, and went after her.

Lily was in her bathroom, bent over the toilet by the time he reached her, retching, her face red. James hurried over and took her hair up in his hand, holding it back from her face so it didn't get all pukey and gross as she emptied her stomach into the bowl. Her whole body heaved as she clutched onto the porcelain, and James rubbed her back gently. "Deep breaths," he murmured.

When she'd finished she looked up miserably and reached for the flusher, her face spotty and tear stained. He helped her up to her feet and got her tooth brush and paste and mouth wash and all the things she would need, including a damp cloth, with which he gently wiped her face. She looked at him with appreciation and he smiled. "Alright, Evans?"

"Yeah, I'm alright. Gods, the smell of that food really turned my stomach," she frowned.

"It did smell rather nasty," James answered.

Lily turned to the sink and started brushing her teeth vigorously to get the taste of the throw-up from her mouth and James grabbed his own tooth brush, doing his mouth as well. He liked mornings when they brushed their teeth together. He didn't know what it was about it, but something about doing something so mundane and intimate together felt... good. It was one of his favorite little routines. He smiled at her round his tooth brush and she laughed and spat into the sink, rinsing as he finished up with his scrubbing. She started putting on make-up.

"First day of quidditch at Hogwarts," James murmured between spits into the sink. "Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw play tonight. You wanna come watch? I hear they have a sexy new referee."

"I wouldn't miss it," Lily answered.

James grinned and started rinsing as she was blending her foundation across her cheeks.

When they'd finished, Lily went back to the bedroom to get dressed, James plodding along behind her, and the moment she stepped in the room, she started gagging again at the scent of Roger's food - which was mostly gone, only bits were left on the plate and he now lay in the middle of the sheets, soaking up the sun rays from the residual heat of his owners' bodies.

Lily whipped right back around through the door, nearly knocking James over, and back into the bathroom.

James looked at Roger and went over and picked up the empty can and finished plate. He stuck his nose close to the can, sniffing, and murmured, "I mean it's disgusting but really, Evans..." Quickly he vanished what was left, can and all, and cleaned the plate with magic before going back to the bathroom after Lily.

Meanwhile in East London, Peter was banging on the bathroom door. "I gotta goooooo!" he whined loudly. "Sirius, c'mon I gotta gooooo."

The sound of the toilet flushing echoed out of the bathroom and Sirius came out, looking miserable. "Shut the hell up it's too early in the morning for all that shouting."

Peter shoved around Sirius and slammed the door behind him.

Sirius groaned and made his way back to the bedroom.

Remus was already gone, off to his classes, and Sirius melted onto the bed, hugging his stomach and mentally going over what he ate the night before. What would have done this to him? Rue the existence of whatever it was... He lay across the bed, groaning a great deal and making a federal production out of the horridness of his own existence, feeling utterly sorry for himself.

"You always were one to be quite over the top when you were feeling ill," came a voice from the wall.

Sirius glanced up from his pillow at the portrait of Regulus. "Shut up you ickle sodcake. Like you're one to talk, always whimpering about the house - mummy my tum-tum hurts, mummy my throat feels yucky."

"I was a child. You'd be doing that now if Remus was here."

Sirius held up his middle finger.

"You're fine," Regulus said.

"That's what Mother told me the time it turned out to be my ear drum bursting," Sirius murmured.

Regulus stared at him.

"D'you remember that? And I had to be rushed to Mungo's? And nobody felt bad for not listening to me when I complained for days that my ear ached. No, I got yelled at and told to shut up about it and to be a man."

"Is that what happened?" Regulus asked, frowning. "I never knew."

Sirius snorted, "How did you not know?"

Regulus shrugged, "I don't know."

Sirius sighed and clutched his stomach. "Well, see then, maybe you ought to be nicer to me now, seeing as my stomach ache could be like my colon exploding or something - you don't know."

"It's not," Regulus answered.

"And how do you know?"

"I just know."

"What is it then?"

"Morning sickness," Regulus said.

Sirius snorted, "You're stupid." He closed his eyes and rolled about on the mattress, milking his agony. He stretched finally and sat up, looking up at the portrait. "Hey you said before there was a reason you were able to be sentient that you couldn't remember or talk about or something."

"Yeah?"

"How long does it usually take a portrait to become sentient?"

"I don't know."

Sirius sighed. "What good are you then, if you can't answer questions?"

"You know, questions like that can be answered by books."

"Yeah but it's easier to ask you."

"Is it because you don't know how to work a book? You open the cover, see, and there's words inside --"

"Shut the fuck up Regulus."

"As you wish," the Portrait answered and he pretended at going still.

Sirius stared up at him, eyebrow raised.

The portrait sighed. "I apparently can't just go away at will like most portraits can."

Sirius grinned. "So you're stuck there, putting up with whatever I choose to do all day? It's a good thing Moony's not here."

"Gross."

Sirius smirked, then slid off the bed, "Actually... I think I need some musical therapy to make me feel better - since I'm deathly ill and all. What do you wanna listen to?"

"You know I know nothing about music."

Sirius grinned. "Well, what a perfect new after-life hobby for you." He magicked his record player open and was flicking through the black case of vinyls he owned. Finally, he withdrew one and held it up. "You look like Bob Dylan... you ought to get to know him, for your hair's sake."

"My hair's sake?"

Sirius pointed to the brushy haired face on the record.

Portrait Regulus's eyebrow raised.

Sirius dropped the record and the warbling notes filled the room. 

"Come gather round people, wherever you roam..."