Sirius took a drag on the cigarette, jerking a shoulder in a half shrug at James' words. It was true, Remus hadn't, but then neither had he really. Sure, there'd been the occasional girlfriend. Two or three month affairs that would come to a conclusion as dramatic as their beginning. Sirius had never really regretted the ends; freedom was not a disappointment, and the world was full of pretty diversions in liquid, flesh and pill form.
He watched James flip the bacon and rolled the cigarette against his finger, "I sort of thought I'd always get married," he said casually "eventually, that is. Give Harry a playmate."
Sirius took another drag on the cigarette, wondering if that was true. He'd been content to play the games James had given up for Lily - however willingly - for as long as he could get away with, and the future had been snuffed out by a lengthy trip to Azkaban. Maybe he'd never have really settled down, but the idea was there.
"Half the time I feel like I'm thirteen and fumbling with Annette Crimpley's bra in a broom cupboard," he admitted "not physically, but..." he trailed off, knowing he didn't need to explain to James the complexities and politics of relationships.
Of course it wasn't just life with Remus that felt that way. It was life in general. Sirius had been part of the Black Family, then a Gryffindor, a Marauder, a member of the Order of the Phoenix - what was he now? There was no obvious enemy, but they hid and crept about as though it were the war all over again. Amarissa had made it perfectly clear that they wouldn't be welcome amongst the Ministry, that there were already whispers. But what would happen when the Ministry were sure? They would likely hunt the dead like rats...and what then, how do you dispose of the dead?