"Loony?" Remus asked with a raise of his eyebrows. "Hardly." Shaking his head, he smiled again, releasing a breath he hadn't known he was holding. It wasn't that he was scared of Harry, exactly. Worried for him, more like. One wrong word and he could harm his young friend's already fragile emotional state. No, Remus didn't think the young man was crazy. He thought he'd fought a war no one his age should've been asked to. No one had ever asked Harry if it had been what he'd wanted. There'd never been a choice in it. Now he was being asked to pick up the pieces. Who could?
Remus leaned a shoulder against the tree, adopting a more casual posture than the one he'd been using. The previous one had been more 'I'm an authority figure and you're going to answer my questions now'. That? Was not what Remus wanted. Not at all. He wanted to come across as the friend. Perhaps not Sirius-worthy. It was hard to be quite as impressive in Harry's life as his spunky, reckless godfather. But that didn't mean that Remus couldn't lend an ear just as well.
"Your mum had a temper on her," he said quietly, the wistful look he often wore when Lily came up crossing his face. "After facing her wrath, I think I can deal with what happens when your fuse is lit." Who knew? Maybe a mention of his mother would do it. Remus didn't know. But as much as he cared for the younger man's mental state, he wasn't going to walk on eggshells around him, either.