the_debt_of_time

Remus paled.
"Wait. Mate?" Nymphadora shifted, and looked at him. "Like werewolf mate? That's
really a thing?"
Sirius winced, clearly realising his mistake. "Oh... Shit."
Remus glared at his friend. "You are an arsehole of epic standards, Padfoot."
Nymphadora's eyes widened. "I'm your mate?"
"You didn't tell her?" Sirius asked.
Remus grit his teeth. "Obviously not."
He expected her to jump away from him and go running for the door, but instead,
she slapped his chest—hard.
"How could you not tell me? Wait, is this why you were following me around before
we started dating?"
Sirius snorted. "Classy, Moony."
"Don't judge me, you hypocritical dickhead!" Remus snapped. "Want to tell me
exactly why you smell like a certain witch we both know?"
Sirius avoided eye contact and toed the floor innocently. "I don't have to answer to
you when I walked in on you shagging my cousin."
"We weren't shagging!"
"Yet," Nymphadora added quietly.
Remus's eyes widened. "Really?"
Sirius snapped his fingers at them. "Focus!"
"Wait, you can smell a witch on him?" she asked Remus curiously.
"It's not what you think," Sirius defended. "She was just petting me."
Nymphadora laughed and cleared her throat. "Oh, well, umm... Good for you."
Sirius sighed in obvious frustration. "Not like―"
"Pads!" Remus said, cutting him off. "Why are you here?"
Sirius's jovial expression shifted immediately, leaving behind obvious anxiety. The
look left something sour and sick in Remus's stomach.
"Voldemort's back."