Scoffing, Remus rolled his eyes at George and looked utterly doubtful. "Please. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself. You may have youth and energy and tolerance on your side, dear boy," he cocked an eyebrow. "But allow me to point out that I still have strength and practice on mine."
Was he suggesting that he was interested in something occurring with George? No, not exactly. He certainly wouldn't turn it down... Or, well, he might out of sheer guilt; that seemed to have been keeping him at home a lot more nights these days. And there was the fact that this was George Weasley. He'd taught half the family and the other half were his contemporaries and... And he never had a name to go with a face since Sirius died and somehow that made it more wrong than the fact that he was engaged to Tonks which, in turn, made him feel even worse...
The fact that he ran in circles with himself justifying his was exhausting when he was perfectly aware of the kind of man he was. He couldn't settle down, not with the constant, pacing, tense, growling force inside of him. It was easier when it had been simpler and he was... just Remus. Solution? Drink more. That was his solution to most things these days.
"Besides," he added finally, "I might be too pissed to care, but I'm not too pissed to do anything else."