Everything screamed in such pain that when Sirius touched him, he moaned, surprised even as he did so that almost no sound came out, his voice raw with disuse.
He had never felt such utter relief to be in such misery, but it was with a shot of lingering fear that he took physical stock as well as he could, a wild concern coming over him that perhaps his arms and legs would still be covered in fur, or his tail might still be swishing against the floor. But when he opened his eyes, he thought Sirius looked happy and he saw his fingers and toes, curled stiffly but looking normal, and the last shades of the wolf faded away from his mind.
He was himself again.
He took a few breaths and then looked up at Sirius. "Nicely done," he croaked.