Ask Away!

Sirius was searching through his bag. "Alright, I've got... eggs, bacon, bangers, and drop scones..."
"Mine," declared Peter, and Sirius handed his friend what appeared to be a plate tied up in a cloth napkin.
"This," James interjected, withdrawing a similarly packaged dish and peering through an opening near the knot of the napkin, "has crepes, sausage, kippers, white pudding, eggs, bacon... way, way, way too much food. This must be yours, Black."
"They didn't forget the pain au chocolat, did they?" asked Sirius anxiously.
James handed him the dish. "No, it's there, you prat." The Quidditch Captain took another plate from his bag, and checked its contents. "Toast, one egg, fruit, sausage... Moony's, I believe." He set it on the nightstand. "Do you have mine, Sirius?"
"Right here, Prongs," replied Sirius, handing over a fourth covered dish. "And you have the extra potatoes."
"And you have the salt, pepper, and butter?"
"That's right."
"Who's got the marmalade?" Peter wanted to know.
"It's here."
Sirius drew his wand and flicked it a few times. The salt and pepper shakers, as well as a tray of yellow butter and a marmalade jar flew out of the paper bag and levitated in midair somewhere between the four boys over the bed. They remained there even after Sirius had returned his wand to the pocket of his robes.
"Oi," said James, pulling out two long, cylindrical containers from the bag. "Last item. Coffee or tea, Moony?"
Remus surveyed his friends. "You lot are idiots, you know," he informed them. "Bringing all this food down here—Holloway has breakfast for me. Healthy, substantial… the sort of thing I ought to be…"
"You're welcome, Moony," James interrupted. "Now, coffee or tea?"
"And I've got butterbeer for a little later," Peter added.
"Oi," said Sirius, "and I almost forgot—chocolate." He set a bar on the bed-side table. Remus considered them all and then sighed.
"You're not rubbish, as far as mates go, you know."
"We know," said Sirius.
Remus nodded. "Tea, Prongs."
"Right away, Moony."
The waking moments after a full moon were, for Remus J. Lupin, the worst. The truth of it was that he was a werewolf… for more than ten years now, he had been such, and for more than ten years, he had feared, more than anything else, those first moments after the whole thing. The uncertainty, the ache…
And for just under ten years, Remus J. Lupin had done all of that alone.
Now, he had breakfast.