"Kitchen!" the metamorphmagus called out. "Just setting the tea to steep." He remembered from his father's journals and all the various stories he heard that his father liked tea. That, and he didn't have any fixings for coffee laying around.
Moving out into the living room, he smiled, spotting Remus. "You can take a seat, you know. It may look spotless now, but rarely does it do so. I've never been one for housekeeping." Or any kind of keeping really. Semi-organized chaos was how he function.
Still, he cast a critical eye over the other man as he sat. He had cleaned up a fair bit so he able to get a better look at the man who would eventually become his father and die in the war that happened twenty-six years prior. Rather than focus on the clear paradox of that last thought, he instead focused on Remus' clothes. They were the same ones as the set he arrived in.
"Do you not have a change of clothes?" he asked, knowing full well some weres had very little in worldly possessions. That didn't make sense though. Harry would have happily helped him out. Unless Remus didn't want charity. "Wait here."
Hurrying to his room, he began to pull a few things out of his closet, tossing them onto the bed. It wasn't much, a few shirts and some trousers, but it was something. "Here." He tossed the bundle of clothing onto the chair next to Remus. The other man was a bit taller than Ted and a bit smaller around the ribcage, but that didn't matter much. "You can give them back to me once you've got your own clothes. Won't take no for an answer. I can be extremely stubborn you see."
The tea should have been ready for now, so the metamorphmagus summoned the pot and the plateful of biscuits. Setting them down on the coffee table, he sprawled out on the couch. "So."