Remus keeps his face neutral at the sight of it although his eyes are sad. He is sad. And incredibly angry. Angry at Sirius' parents for being foolish enough to think that such a trick might work on such a stubborn boy as this. Angry at the cruelty of the spell itself -- Sirius will never be rid of that scar, not with the age that it is. And angry at the words of it. Toujours Pur. They had no right.

He doesn't verbally acknowledge the cruelty of the mark. What is there to say? What's done is done and Sirius doesn't like to be coddled. What he needs, Remus knows, as much as the care, is the affection. The attention. Things that his family probably never gave him. Things he's more than certain Sirius wanted from them, still wants in some ways, more than anything. Remus can't change their minds for them. He can't make them see what a mistake they have made in not believing in Sirius. But he can do it for them.

He reaches out to trace his fingers around the edge of the motto before he forces himself to take a deep breath and rest his hand flat on Sirius' shoulder. "I think I have some cream that might help with this," he says, softly. "If you don't mind the smell of it..."