The hand that had been idly rubbing up and down Sirius’ back pauses. "No, I don’t think so. I cared for her, certainly, and there was a sense of camaraderie... but I was too scared to love her, and too in love with you to give her what she deserved." Remus gives a small humourless chuckle. "Actually, she was the one who told me I was in love with you. I’d kept denying it, for years and years... And even when she didn’t know the details, she’d ask me about the man who wronged me, the one who broke my heart, the one I still loved. She didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t love you anymore, and after a while I stopped believing it, too." Remus kisses the top of Sirius’ head reassuringly, then sighs. "But now you know why I don’t like talking much about France. They’re... not happy memories."