Remus kept his eyes trained on Sirius, aware of every flush and every avoidant movement. His friend - his best friend - was more than jittery, acutely self-conscious, but it didn't seem to bode that Pads was on one of his downwards swings.

"...Leave your drink," he suggested, but it was at least half of an instruction. "Let's head home. I don't know about you, but I don't feel much like a drink now." Remus was already getting up out of his chair, all gangly, easy movement, determined to give Sirius a cue to make him follow as he bundled himself out onto the street.