When Remus came to he realized that for the first time in months he wasn’t wet or cold or covered in something foul. He found himself lying on a sofa aching like hell probably due to a recent fight, but he looked around and from the pictures on the side table to the Gryffindor flag strung across the kitchen, to the motorcycle magazines on the island in front of him, everything screamed Sirius to him. Sirius was living here, in a flat, with actual stuff, with things to keep him grounded to the times in school, to happy memories, he probably had James and Lily visiting with Harry, he could talk to James every day, he wouldn’t have the Order questioning his loyalties because he could be trusted, because he wasn’t a monster. Sirius could be loved,
