"Not at you," said Remus at once, genuinely. "Getting you back actually makes some of it better that I thought never could be."

Now he hesitated again, but he'd known Sirius wouldn't want to be handled with kid gloves, even before he'd said that about all over everyone's face. "Being made to doubt reality turned out to be its own edge of loss. I know I don't need to tell you about that. …Funny, I actually hadn't had that before, even though I thought I knew all about insanity." He belatedly scoffed at himself, "To think, people thought I was less arrogant."

Could be an insult, but wasn't. They'd known what people had said about the four of them all through schooling. James and Sirius—handsome, liberated, and brilliant—would have been Trickster Gods no matter what. Their inexplicably adopting Peter and Remus had brought it all to a new dimension (intrigue, speculation). …But mainly: it hadn't taken all this suffering for them (Sirius and Remus at least) to have been self-aware about what elements of 'what everyone said' were also true. They'd definitely all been arrogant. Even Peter in his way.

"Still," added Remus. "It's not a bad idea. I'm game to be an echo chamber."