Grimmauld Place was quiet, empty of the banging footsteps of children and shouts and disagreements at Order meetings. It was just him and Sirius again.
The window was open, welcoming the new autumn air. They lay huddled on the bed because the blankets were all ripped and knotted from their unmentionable activities this morning. Sirius was looking at them, and seemed very smug.
"I once had an absurd dream," he said, "that I would break out of prison, and then find you and poor orphaned Harry and whisk you both away, and we'd live an exciting life away from everything unpleasant."
A sock rustled quietly between Sirius' fingers. It was Harry's. He'd found it on the floor and had been examining it ever since.
"There's still time," Remus said quietly.
"Yes." Sirius kissed him on the shoulder. And then again. And then again, as though he had never tasted the skin there. "We have the rest of our lives."
There was hope in his eyes.