“Do you feel like things are changing, Remus?”

Rare are the days when his friends even bother to call him by his actual name, and Remus tears his eyes away from his potions homework to settle them on Sirius. While Lupin’s been working on his essay for the past hour, Black has been casually lounging near the fire. But his relaxed stance is betrayed by the tense look clouding his gray orbs.

“Change isn’t bad,” Remus says.

“I mean for the worse.”

When he answers, a half-hearted smile tugs on his mouth. “For what’s worth, you’re still a prat, Padfoot.”