"Your nose is red."

"Better than the ghastly pale of yesterday, wouldn't you say?" He rubbed his nose to warm it. "Though they say a cold nose means a dog is healthy."

"And a human is going to be dreadfully sick." Remus grabbed several logs and stoked the fire, prodding them with the iron. "Get the blanket and get warm."

"Warmth," Sirius's voice held a note of reverence. "'S funny, you know, the things you miss when you're dead."

"Everything?"

"Well, that," he nodded. "But the little things. I mean, you expect to miss people and places and snogging and shagging and really good scotch. But you don't expect to miss the sensations of heat and touch and smell. What's worse is you long for them. I mean, you vaguely remember the hint of them, and it's nearly enough to drive you mad."

"Except you're dead."

"I imagine it's a bit like hell. Maybe it was hell." He shrugged as if it didn't bother him, though the hard set of his shoulders implied it did. "I imagine I've done a disservice or two that would end me up there, eh?"

"I'd be the last one to judge, given that I turn into a dark creature every month." Remus's voice was steady as he straightened.

"That's not your fault though, Moony. You didn't ask to be bitten, and you certainly don't like what you turn into."

"True. Perhaps I'll go to the hell of the good-intentioned."

"Ha!" Sirius moved to the bar and poured them each a drink. "And where would I go?"

"The hell of the dreadfully sexy?"

"Flatterer." He handed Remus a glass and sat beside him on the small davenport. "Perhaps the hell of the misguided. Hell of the badly informed? Hell of the bastard who couldn't trust his friend?"

"You trusted your friend," Remus's voice changed subtly, deepened, saddened. "Just the wrong one."

"I deserve a special place in hell for what I did to you, Moony."

He shrugged off the words. "What we did to each other."

"Yes, that definitely makes it better. We were both stupid, silly bastards who couldn't manage to tell their arses from holes in the ground."

Remus coughed on his drink, trying not to laugh. "Given we were shagging even when we weren't speaking, Sirius, I rather think we at least knew each other's arses from holes in the ground."

"Did we?"

Remus closed his mouth on what he'd been about to say, his eyes flashing with pain for a moment before he downed the rest of his drink. "I wonder where Harry is."

"He'll be along."

"It's snowing."

"Remus." Sirius reached out and turned his friend to face him. "Very rarely in this life are you afforded a second chance. I've been given two, one of which involved coming back from the dead. I'd really rather not spend my time rehashing the old mistakes."

"When there's a lifetime to make new ones?"

"I'd rather," he leaned in slowly, making sure Remus could read his intentions in his eyes, "spend my time rehashing the few bits I managed to get right."

"I gather we're not talking about holes in the ground now, are we?" Remus's eyes closed slowly as his forehead touched Sirius's.

"Hell, Moony," Sirius's voice was soft, his breath feathering over Remus's lips, "I'm not even talking about arses yet." He laughed, the sound echoing with a held off sob. "But I could be persuaded to work my way there."

"Harry's due soon."

"If I have my way, Harry will have to get very used to the sight of us doing terribly naughty things to one another." He paused and pulled back. "Er, well, no. But at least snogging." He tilted his head, looking exactly like a curious dog. "There will be snogging, right?"

Remus didn't use words to answer him. But then, he didn't have to.