Sirius didn't feel like dinner. He picked his way through the shepards pie, idly wondering when Pomphrey would let Remus out of the prison, er, infirmary. By the time pudding came around he was far too twitchy to enjoy it, so he made his excuses to James and Peter and headed back to Gryffindor tower. He knew his others friends would most likely linger in the Hall, then spend some time in the common room. He was a little glad, really just wanting to be alone for a while and work through the epic funk he could feel coming on.
He plodded his way up the stairs and shrugged his way into the room, not bothing to muffle the sound. He had removed his robes, tie, and outer shirt and was working on his trousers when he noticed he wasn't alone. Redoing his fly, he tip toed over to Remus' closed curtains and opened them without a sound.
Remus ws curled up on the covers, looking so small and vulnerable, and Sirius felt his heart leap into his throat. He couldn't tell if the werewolf was awake, he was lying with his back to Sirius, but he could tell by the shallow breathing that he was still in pain. So Sirius crawled onto the bed and pulled the curtains shut before resting a hand gently on Remus' back.