Sirius had almost told Remus not to come, because Sirius had no sodding clue what the hell he was doing, and some part of him was weirdly and uncomfortably embarassed by the whole thing. It wasn't like Moony and him were together, or ever had been. Or like the idea had ever come up in between the times when Sirius got drunk and pawed him. But the strange feeling didn't seem to make any sort of sense, it was just there. He'd always played Uncle to Harry (and to Dora, even if he wasn't actually her Uncle anymore than he was Harry's), but they'd had their own parents and thus whatever Sirius mucked up in his own life hadn't really mattered. Now he'd fucked up the life of some girl he didn't even remember, hardly, and the tiny person who looked like him, to boot.
It was just daft, the whole thing, and Sirius knew Remus. He'd pitch in to help because he was Moony, nevermind that it wasn't his fault or that he didn't want to be roped in with a toddler no one planned for.
Dylan didn't actually sleep that well - or for that long, at least - so Sirius hadn't much either. He'd also tried to hunt down Dylan's mum without success, so far. So he was tired, frustrated, and really could USE a drink, but he'd talked himself into it being a bad idea. So when Remus turned up with the bottle he frowned, but didn't say anything. "He's watching telly," he explained, nodding toward where Dylan was idly playing with some of the new toys Lily had gotten him and watching some inexplicable cartoon that he seemed riveted by.