"Like I got chewed up and spit out by an acromantula, then tramped by a ridgeback," Remus replied with a wince as he pushed himself back up from where he'd slouched down some, sinking into a light doze as his two friends switched places in their watch over him. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine he was back at Hogwarts, comfortable in the infirmary and under the watchful eye of people who might actually care. It was a feeling he hadn't known in far too many years to truly recognize it.
There was one thing he couldn't do then, however, that he could now. Holding one shaking hand over the bowl James had set down, he cast a simple charm he'd learned on the streets and taught to Draco while they were in the camp. The appearance and true nature of the food didn't change, but when he picked up the bowl and brought it closer to his face, it smelled like beef stew, the kind his mother would have made for him the morning after when he was home. When he took a spoonful, it tasted like it as well. "Thanks, Prongs." He mustered up a tired smile. "But, your house elf impersonation needs work."