Sirius accepted Remus's answer in silence, but didn't tear his gaze from the other wizard's face. He found that he couldn't; Remus was older than he remembered and it showed. How old was he now? Someone in the journal had said he was from 1985. Was that him? And did he look as old? Older? It was hard to measure his time in Azkaban while he was there, but his attempts at measuring it with Remus's face weren't faring any better. What had Remus done in the intervening years, while he'd thought Sirius was guilty? Had he gone back to... wherever he'd spent the months he'd been gone? Sirius strongly suspected the werewolf had been sent to intervene with the pack, based on his state whenever he returned. Had he joined another pack? One that wasn't Padfoot's?
He tore his gaze away, only for it to land on his sandwich. The question, when it came, might have been directed at it rather than at his friend but for the tension that hung palpably between them. "When's the next moon?"