[Headpatting is good, headpatting is great, headpatting appeals to Sirius on such an intrinsic happy level that he shifts himself forward with a pleased hgnrghf, in contrast to piteous werewolf whines. General crawling forward, general crawling onto sofa, under legs o' Lupin and leaned up against Kate once more, and Sirius settles in, mashing his cheek against her upper arm.]

O tempora o mores.

[Solemn intonation with mouth of t-shirt.]

--Sssaid the notorious pirate Jesoprat Black, newly freed from his brig 'cos the ship sank under the weight of broken hearts and secret abdominal muscles that glisten o so viriley--you really oughta check 'em out--

Sharks!

[A sudden shout, and he sits up to stare over at his sofa companions. Very pretty manly dashing.]

He's right! Arrgh, it's sharks. We'll have to kill them between us, barehanded. Beerhanded. Can't waste the beer, 'cos we're surrounded by salt water, we have to conserve. Thirst. So it's shark fights or head for the distant shore of the deserted island. Desert isle. Dessert aisle. Which is it, buckos? I ain't goin' down without a fight either way, not after being freed from theee, the brig. Of which I'm so so grateful. Whose idea was that? Cap'ns? Can't be.

An' Cap'n Kate, she tossed her gorgeous hair, and she said--

[He touches his index finger to Kate's lips. Expectant.]