Hope Lupin sighs and exclaims and murmurs pleasantries as he speaks, but for the most part lets him talk as she directs him around the kitchen. The repetitive and familiar movements of cooking—something which Sirius has only done twice or thrice since Azkaban, too upset or forgetful to do things like plan meals or prep ingredients or do anything more complicated than making a sandwich or putting on a warming charm. The knife lets Sirius’ frustration become productive, and the fire and crackling oil turns his anger into creation. It is impossible for Sirius to cook without love, Sirius has long since learned, because he loves to cook and is still inexperienced enough that every movement—especially muggle ones—reminds him of a better time, fumbling and laughing with his family and friends. Cooking is free from the Blacks, and always would be; but cooking doesn’t just represent Sirius’ independence and freedom, it represents the Potters, and the new family Sirius chose—a family Sirius thought was gone with James, but is now thinking it might still be here, with the Lupins.