' "James," Remus says, voice muffled, wet, a little shaky. "James, what is Sirius doing to my face?"
"You -- are -- my -- best friend ever!" Sirius barks very enthusiastically between slurps, and butts his head into Remus's jaw. Remus pats him distractedly atop the head, for which Sirius makes an ecstatic noise. "Do my ears, huh? Scratch my ears? Could you could you could you? You're the best. Rub my stomach. What's going on? James help James help James I'm going crazy!"
"His mind has a dog in it," James explains. He is still slower in his body than his mind moves, like a sharp wind that only shifts the trees. "We've...made a charm. An experiment."
"His mind has a dog in it," Remus repeats, only a little hysterically. "You mean the way you might go 'oh, don't eat that soup, it's got a fly in it?' Is that what you mean?"
"No," James says. His voice is careful and deep, reminding Remus of a slow-moving river. "Not exactly." He pauses for a while to collect himself.
"James," Remus says uncertainly.
"What's he doing what's he doing who wants to feed me? Hey, Remus, you know what we should do? You should throw something, and I should jump up and get it and bring it back! And then you could throw something else and I could jump up and get it and bring it back! Or you could throw the same thing and I could go get it again! It would never stop being fun! What's he doing? I'm hungry."
"Hmm," James says, still thinking. He shakes his head out to remind himself what's important.
"You've been sitting there for five minutes," Remus says. "I'm going to panic very soon. I think you should know that. Where's Peter?"
There is a sepulchral cackle from beneath the bed. "You'll never find me!" '
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