Remus laughed softly. "At least my French and Spanish is better than my horrid attempts at the Gaelic language." Leaning back on his hands, he watched the other man while he spoke. There was a lot of James in there, some Lily, too. But, there were expressions, phrases, that were solely Harry, too. "I didn't have much reason to stay. My friends were all either dead or incarcerated. My parents had been dead for years and the farmhouse sold. I was told in no uncertain terms not to go anywhere near you. No one was eager to let my kind do much of anything, let alone help with anything. So... A fresh start sounded like the best thing."
Sucking in a breath, he nodded at Harry's explanation. "There were...deals...made when we were students, to keep him from saying anything and getting me executed. If Dumbledore decided I was useful again, it wouldn't surprise me if he reinstated or strengthened those old agreements. I doubt very much Snape would have been happy about it, even without suspecting me of aiding a convict, particularly that one. I assume you mean Sirius?"
It took Remus a minute to connect 'the potion' to the conversation he'd had with Regulus. The idea of a potion that would help even more than his friends' presence was still...unfathomable. "A whole year may not have been enough to make up for ten years of not having that, though. And, from what I understand from Regulus, the transformation isn't stopped? That's traumatic enough on the body without the self-inflicted wounds likely when one is locked up without prey. If the next ten years were anything like the last three? Mentally, as well as physically, it makes sense to me he'd be exponentially more worn down than I am."