Disclaimer: I don't own anything that looks familiar, and I am certainly not the incredible J.K. Rowling, though I doubt you ever thought that was the case. Any mistakes herein are mine alone.

Lengthy AN alert. I'm sorry about this but I feel the need to explain myself here, because this is so far from what I usually like to write. I'm not sure there is really any excuse for this, except, perhaps that the bunnies won't leave me alone until I transcribe them somewhere. This particular bunny resulted in... well this.

This isn't really how I picture Remus, and it has been shown several times in canon that he can be short-tempered as anyone. That said, this is what came out of my mind.

When I first got the idea for the fic I didn't picture the second chapter existing at all, and I am still not sure if it really adds anything to the story... you could tell me your opinion, if you have the time.

Feedback is always welcome, even if you hated it.

Also, this fic follows the Kübler-Ross model of the five stages of grief, in case anyone wanted to know.

Without further ado; onwards, to the fic!

1981

Sirius, James and Peter had always joked that Remus used up his most extreme emotions on the night of the full moon so that he could remain cool and collected for the rest of the month. Remus had always laughed it off, but there was no denying that it was at least partially true. Remus was temperate. He was the level-headed marauder. He had never been plagued by the deep infatuation that affected James so strongly, never experienced hatred with the burning ferocity Sirius felt, never fallen into the hero-worship of his friends the way that Peter had. Remus was irritated by Peter's constant fawning over their friends and repelled when James went too far in his taunting of the Slytherins, but he was never effected enough to speak up about them. When Sirius sent Snape to the Shrieking Shack, Remus was furious and horrified, but even so he didn't rant and yell the way that James had. Remus knew that his emotions rarely got out of hand, but he never thought he that he wouldn't have the ability to cry over something like this.

Denial – Remus certainly knew that this was 'not just a river in Egypt' as Sirius had been so fond of saying. When he heard the news, how could he not deny it? It was simply inconceivable that Sirius would betray James. The two men meant more to each other than anyone. Remus had thought their friendship was even stronger than the love between James and Lily. There was no way that Sirius would have turned his back on that! No, Dumbledore must have been mistaken, something else must have happened...

Anger – An emotion that Remus was all too familiar with these days. Sirius's 'joke' on Snape was nothing - nothing - compared to this. Remus's anger may not have been as fiery as Lily's or as explosive as James's, but it burned deep within him. Sirius deserved Azkaban. Hell, the man deserved worse! If what he had done to Lily and James wasn't enough, if sending Voldemort to kill the child, Harry, his own godson, wasn't enough, he slaughtered Peter Pettigrew, a boy who'd very nearly worshipped him! Sirius blasted Peter to smithereens, and he didn't care who else got in the way. The man cared about his bloody motorbike than he cared about his best mate's entire family. Remus hated Sirius. The man had earned the privilege of rotting in Azkaban, and Remus wouldn't have it any other way.

Bargaining- Anything that the cosmic forces wanted him to give up, he would do it in a heartbeat if he could undo what Sirius had done. If he could die in their place, he wouldn't give it a second thought. Have society see him as a monster forever, why not? If they were still alive, he would go back in time and never have those friendships that made up so much of his youth. Have them hate him, hurt him, anything; so long as that Halloween night never happened.

Depression – Remus Lupin stood in front of James and Lily's headstone. It was a few days before Christmas, and the small village of Godric's Hollow was alive with holiday cheer. Walking through the town, Remus had seen the memorial erected in honour of his friends. A statue of the two of them, and little Harry of course - well James would have been pleased anyway. This was not the first time he had stood here, staring at the graves as though they held the key to a timeless puzzle. He read the words inscribed on the tombstone: 'The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death'. He had been the one to choose them, as James and Lily had no surviving family (unless one counted Lily' sister Petunia and her husband, who had not even attended the service). Remus hated to think about Harry living in her home. He wanted to see Harry. He thought perhaps seeing the little boy might allow him to grieve, but when he had approached Petunia about visiting Harry she had refused and threatened to alert the police if he ever came near her home. He turned to leave with the realization that he needed to face fact: he was Remus Lupin, the calm, the unshakeable. Two of his best friends were dead, and their deaths were brought about by someone whom he had trusted completely. He had lost another friend in Lily, and there was a young orphan out there who would never know how wonderful his parents had been. His safety net had been yanked out from under him just as he was getting used to its presence. All this and yet he hadn't shed a tear. Though some might aspire to be patient and level-headed, Remus Lupin wished that, just once, he could let go.