September 21, 2003

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Something with Lupin

Remus balanced a raw egg in the palm of his hand. Butter hissed in the frying pan. He glanced over his shoulder at Sirius. "How do you like your eggs these days?"

Sirius shrugged. "Cooked."

Remus cracked the egg with a gentle tap and slid it into the pan, easily, perfectly. He turned and looked at the back of Sirius's head. "And how do you like your life?"

Sirius half-turned. "What?"

Remus curved his palm, balancing the invisible shell. There would be a moment for a gentle tap, a gentle touch. "I'll ask you later," he said. "We have time."

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