"Sirius…" Harry considered the oiled box with an odd, lop-sided smile. "You never actually wore this, right?" With one finger he lifted the collar out, soft-leather, well cared for, rivets as shiny as they day they were punched.

"Ah," Sirius was a picture of innocence, "now that would be telling." He picked up the thing-it was heavier than he remembered, and somewhat dry. "Hmm, could use some attention. This was actually a gift, Harry, and I don't know what you've been taught," There was a twist in his stomach-who would have taught him?-but he barreled on, "but you should never look a gift in it's mouth."

"But did you actually wear it?" Harry asked.

"Only on request." Sirius began to meander away, locking the box with a twitch of his wrist.

"Is that what girls go for? Did it drive them mad?" Harry joked as he skipped down the stairs, the sarcasm pouring off of him, a smirk worthy of James Potter playing on his lips.

Sirius turned back on the landing and almost knocked Harry back up the stairs. "I wouldn't know, I never wore it for a girl." He quirked an eyebrow and continued down the kitchen. Harry raced to catch up after recovering.

"Pass me the oil would you?" Sirius drawled to someone.

"What for?" Remus asked, cupboard doors slamming, "You still have that thing?" Harry could picture the look on Remus's face before he saw it: complete surprise and probably a little disgusted awe.

He rounded the corner to find Remus looping it around Sirius's neck and tutting, "It's seen better days."

"It needs oiling," Sirius said, pulling it away with a cocky grin.

"But it's been so long-"

"Then I'll just have to be gentle." Sirius smiled while Remus blushed into his mug.

"I should probably go see if Molly needs help," Harry said loudly from the doorway, glancing between the two men. He added, in a mutter: "It's probably less confusing there."

"What, and miss all the awkward innuendo?" Sirius was slathering oil on the black leather, without regard for the table underneath.

Remus smiled into his tea before offering, "Sirius, if he stays, we can't snog each other silly."

Sirius sat agape a moment at that, before dunking the whole collar into the wide-mouthed bottle once and dumping it onto the counter and wiping his hands on his trousers.

"Stop that," Remus dodged Sirius's advance, "you're filthy."

"I thought you preferred that," Sirius growled, plucking the mug from his friends hands.

"Argh!" Harry said, running back up the stairs.