Remus regarded his reflection in the full length mirror, his own pale face staring back at him through the dusty glass. Dark blue shadows circled his eyes, and his hair looked like it hadn't seen a brush in more than a while. But he didn't care. He was finding it more and more difficult by the day to do that. He took a deep, calming breath, closing his eyes and recalling everything he'd been told, all the advice he'd been given, to bring Remus Lupin to give a eulogy at his best friend's funeral. After a long few minutes, or perhaps hours, his eyelids fluttered open again and he'd closed the door behind him to turn on the spot one moment and, with a loud crack, to be gone the next.
"Sirius Black wasn't perfect," he didn't have a microphone, but Remus' voice was the only sound in the ears of every member of the small gathering. Too small, he thought, eyes on the scrap of parchment he'd drawn from his pocket a few moments earlier. "He wasn't the kindest, or the most loving." His voice caught in his throat, and he took a few more deep breaths before he could resume, glancing up to meet the handful of eyes trained on him. "But he was a bloody good friend. And at the age of – just eleven, if Sirius Black could see past things most grown witches and wizards can't, and offer a friendly hand to a boy who thought himself entirely alone-" he paused, one hand flying to his mouth in an attempt to stem the emotion rising in him now, emotion he'd managed to reject for days and weeks. He willed himself to stay rooted to the spot, though, crumpling the scrap of parchment into a tiny ball and letting his other hand drop limply to his side, "- then he certainly deserves more than ten people gathered here to remember his life." Remus hesitated for a moment before going on, and while his voice was shaky, the words spilling from his mouth needed to be heard. "And I'm not going to forget him. I'm not going to put him out of my mind and try to carry on, just because it's too damn painful not to. Because if we're not thinking about him, who is? If we're not remembering everything good about Sirius, we don't even have that anymore. And I'll tell you this for sure. Sirius didn't deserve to be forgotten." His gaze swept around the room, as if daring anyone to contradict him, but he was met only with silence. Then, bowing his head slightly, he murmured, so that no one but himself could hear, "Goodbye, Padfoot."