The worst of his uncontrollable sobs have subsided by the time Regulus finds him, still hunched over on the chair, his hair a wreck from pulling at it during his breakdown and his face pale and blotchy. He hastily wipes his eyes when Regulus enters the room, sucking in a shuddering breath and trying to collect himself as best he can. He had hoped perhaps that they would just forget about him or leave him to his shame and misery, but apparently luck is not on his side tonight.

It's with great effort that Remus forces himself to look up, and the gaze that he turns on Regulus is despondent. Broken. Like a shell that the real Remus had left behind long ago.

"How is he?" His voice is flat when he speaks, and he nearly winces at the sound of it. There's another question there, too, but he doesn't dare ask it, simply staring at Regulus – staring through him, more like – dead eyed and braced for whatever punishment comes his way.