The abused book dangles from Remus's fingertips. Remus's face is six different shades of red, including a salmon that does not go with his hair at all.
"Are you even listening to me?" he growls.
"Uh." Sirius straightens his head, clearing his thoughts of the shade of Remus's neck. "Uh, yes. You're quite cross."
"I'm quite—I'm cross. I'm cross?" Remus snarls, more wolf than boy. "You got chocolate—my chocolate—all over the book, Sirius! My book. My chocolate!"
Sirius affects his most innocent look of innocence, the one that only works on Professor Flitwick (because everyone else knows better). "You're very cross?"
"AHHHH!" Remus shoves the book into Sirius's face and stalks to the far side of the common room, muttering about insane pixies and drunken puppies (which doesn't make much sense to Sirius, but probably means that Remus will forgive him by this evening).
Sirius catches the book, getting melted chocolate on his face and fingers. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. "Huh." He turns around and yells to Remus, "More people would read if all books tasted like this."
Remus's forehead strikes the table loudly, repeatedly. Maybe Remus won't forgive him until tomorrow morning.