Frankly, Remus thought it was futile to even get into the discussion about how all love was fated all the time and it always ended with pain, even if the love itself went on to survive for years or decades, it would always be shadowed with pain and the memory of pain and lost and ache... James and Lily, they were perfect. Sure, they had their fights but they were still perfect. Even still there was a moment there where Lily had to watch her husband as he was killed and even if that moment culminated in a practical supernova of the purest kind of love, there was still a moment - he knew there had to be - where Lily felt the most unbearable kind of pain. It spoke to her character as a woman, a mother and a person that she could focus her last breath into that eternal and unforgettable moment of sacrifice. But George was too drunk to hear that and maybe Remus was too drunk to say it anyhow.
And Dumbledore? Well... that was not Remus' story to even know in the first place much less tell another soul.
He hummed with an interested air to his tone and waited for George to pull something from his mind. And the best story ended up being the one he'd been told a hundred times since it happened. It was brilliant, the best damn thing he'd ever heard and he was proud in a way that only a Marauder could be. "I think it was a brilliant thing to do," Remus said, smirking. "We were proud - Sirius and I, I mean. Damn proud when we heard. And James would've been too. You two were better Marauders than we ever were. Got to admit, though," he said, "I'm reliving a bit of my squandered youth with the pair of you now. Living vicariously and all..."