Faelan had been unable to speak when Harry entered, the disappointment of not seeing Sirius on the bike falling on him like a crushing weight. His breathing came faster and faster and he had to swallow past his heart multiple times before he could take in enough air to say anything.
"He fixed it then," he commented breathlessly, painfully. "He fixed it and they'll come back." No one said anything, and Faelan looked up. "Right? He had to have said something about coming back?" Faelan gestured at the other men's letters. In a voice torn and tied in knots with despair, desperation, and fading hope, he added, "Sirius wouldn't really leave us?"