Merlin's fucking saggy balls. He's going to need to be a lot better than this if he's going to get Remus to even begin to believe him.

Maybe Remus doesn't remember the carefully crafted Black smile. It's been a few years since it touched his lips, after all. It pops up again, now, calm and bright and entirely unreal.

"--Right. Sure. Here." He offers the approaching half-empty bottle to his friend, lifting it in a hollow copy a toast, first, "To-- you 'nd my brother."

He resists taking a huge swig by properly handing the bottle to Remus, instead lifting the cigarette to his lips.

"You're good for him, nn?"