*the Lupins sit around the dinner table in complete silence*
Remus: *stares at his untouched food, looking green*
Lyall: *shovels food into his mouth, trying to keep it full and unavailable for talking*
Hope: *smiles pleasantly at both of them, looking only a little strained*
Remus: *an internal battle plays furiously across his features*
Lyall: *grimaces, trying to swallow the ridiculous amount of food in his mouth*
Hope: *smiles warmly as she begins gathering the dishes, squeezing Remus’ shoulder in passing*
Remus: *misses the warning look between Hope and Lyall, his focus otherwise engaged* ... Da.
Remus: ... I guess.
Lyall: *tries desperately to avoid Hope’s burning gaze*
Hope: *mutters terrible things under her breath*
Lyall: *pushes on with barely contained panic*
Remus: *blushes furiously, throwing his mother a desperate look*
Hope: *looks pointedly away, struggling not to laugh*
Lyall: *catches Hope’s shaking shoulders in the corner of his eye, and suddenly becomes far more at ease, a mischievous look spreading across his face*
Lyall: *ponders* Thought Potter was into that red-head though?
Lyall: Decent bloke, bookish… seems your type.
Hope: *trying to keep it together in the corner, shaking with suppressed laughter*
Lyall: *grins, looking far more at ease* Oh go on then, you can’t tell me you like someone and expect me not to ask.
Remus: *weakly shakes his head, his voice faint* No, you’re not.
Lyall: *reaches out earnestly, hating how timid Remus sounds*
Remus: *gaze drops as he bites his lip nervously* He doesn’t know.
Lyall: *shrugs* Do you know that for sure?
Lyall: *cautiously* I’m not saying that the person you like won’t have a type, and that you might not be it… can’t promise that.