"He copies me," James shot back, before turning to grin at what turned out to be a slightly fuzzy Remus through his partly misted up glasses. In reality, he and Sirius had picked up a good number of each others habits through the years - who really knew where any of it had started any more?
"Not bad," James shrugged, striding across the hall to meet Remus at the top of the stairs. "These new brooms are mental. Have you tried yours? Makes my old Nimbus look like firewood."
James tilted his head slightly, glad that Moony was looking slightly less foggy as he turned the quaffle absently on his broomless hand. It spun easily, the weight and feel of it reassuringly familiar in his palm. "How's it going, anyway? It feels like I'm always missing you at the moment."
He very purposefully avoided looking over Remus' shoulder towards the entrance to the dungeons. He knew, of course, where his friend was spending a lot of his time these days, even if the appeal was entirely lost on him.