Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, slowly working his way through a pile of letters that had been piling up over the past few days. Some would need replies, but most he simply tossed aside. He barely read more than the first line of the letter from the Head of Department of International Magical Cooperation before throwing it into his fireplace. Another invitation to another party that he had no interested in attending.

The war was over; Voldemort gone, and the wizarding world was celebrating like they had not done since the fall of Grindelwald. Albus had not felt like celebrating then, and he did not feel like doing so now. Despite his words to Minerva a few days ago, as he left young Harry Potter with his relatives, that the people deserved to celebrate; he could not join them. Not when victory came at so high a cost: the lives of so many of his former pupils, and worse some of those who had still been his students when they had died. Many who celebrated did not seem to be plagued with the same realization that their lives came at the cost of so many others.

In time, he would have to do what he could to remind the people of the cost of victory, but for now they deserved simply to be happy. Perhaps their happiness would make up for all those who would never know happiness again.

Staring at the next letter in the pile, but not reading it, Dumbledore allowed himself to slip into a state of melancholy as he remembered those who died. Wondering, not for the first time, what things he could have done differently to prevent some of those deaths. Minerva told him not to, that it was pointless, but how could he not? Young Ryan Copper who had been killed during his very first Hogsmeade trip. Fabian and Gideon killed on an Order mission that he had organized. There were so many who died; people he was supposed to protect. He would have thought of each of them, were in not for the knock on his door pulling him back to the present.

Frowning, that wasn't Minerva's knock, Albus silently cast spell to allow him to see past the door, relaxing as he recognized the face. "Come in, Remus."

Once the younger man entered, Albus motioned for him to take a seat. "Remus, I didn't expect you so soon. Would you like a lemon drop or perhaps some of Honeydukes' chocolate?" Dumbledore asked, his voice laced with worry as he looked over his former pupil. It had been barely over a week since he had last seen Remus and in that time it looked like the young man had aged ten years.

Ignoring the question, Remus held up a letter. "You said you want to see me." His voice was raw and his eyes red, though how much of that was from crying and how much was from lack of sleep, Dumbledore couldn't tell.

"Are you okay, Remus?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"I'm fine." Remus answered curtly. "Why did you want to see me?"

Remus, you're not fine. Dumbledore wanted to shout his thoughts, but he held himself back. People grieved in different ways and who was he to push Remus so soon after the young man had lost so much? So instead, he settled for answering Remus' question. "I want to talk to you about Sirius."

Remus' reaction to the name was immediate, his grip tightening on the arms of the chair and a flash of hurt and betrayal crossing his face before settling on hate. "What about him?" he demanded.

"Crouch has decided to push sending alleged Death Eaters to Azkaban without trial. It's what he wants done with Sirius-"

"Good!" Remus snarled, "let the bastard rot in there!"

"He was your friend-"

"No! He wasn't! I hate him! I hate him so much," Remus screamed, tears beginning to fall from his cheeks "He betrayed them. They're all dead because of him. He deserves to rot in Azkaban, anything else would be a mercy."

"You don't even want to hear his side of the story?"

"Hear how he's just like his family? Worse! At least the rest of them were honest about who they are. I should have known, after fifth year, but Black has always been a good liar. There's nothing he could say, that would make him deserve anything less than a lifetime in Azkaban." Remus took a shaky breath, before continuing, "I got a letter from… from James the day before… before…" Unable to finish, Remus trailed off, before starting again, staring at wall as he spoke, "I got a letter. James told me how Sirius was his secret keeper, I know how the Fidelius charm works. Voldemort never would have been able to find them if the bastard hadn't told him."

Sighing, Dumbledore nodded slowly. "James told me that was his plan, but I hadn't received confirmation that it had happened. When I asked you to come, I originally had hoped that you would be able to go visit Black with me. That by seeing you, he would say something in his defense, when I saw him alone all he said nothing useful, but if James confirmed that he was the secret keeper..." Dumbledore trailed off with sigh, feeling every one of his years. He had lived through two wars and still, he had yet to find a pain that stung as deeply as betrayal. "I never would have expected it of him."

The room fell silent for a moment, each man entrenched in their own grief. It was Remus, who eventually broke the silence. "What did he say when you were there?"

"He just kept repeating 'he's still alive'."

"Who? Who's still alive?"

"Sirius never said. But if he is a Death Eater, then he must mean Voldemort."

"If Voldemort's still alive, then Harry is in danger." The thought seemed to strike Remus with great force, as he jumped from his seat. "Where is he?" He asked frantically looking around the office, as though he expected the toddler to be hiding behind one of Dumbledore's books.

"He is with Lily's sister."

"Why?" Remus demanded. "He can't stay there. They're muggles. Voldemort will kill them in seconds."

"It's the safest place for him," Dumbledore assured him. "I worried from the first moment that I heard Voldemort had been defeated by Harry that he wasn't really dead. And from what I've been able to tell, Harry only survived because Lily somehow invoked ancient magic. As long as Harry lives with someone from her family, Voldemort will not be able to harm him until he comes of age. Plus, being in a muggle community will make it that much harder for any of Voldemort's death eaters to find him." They were the same reason Dumbledore had used to persuade Minerva that it was the best choice. It wasn't the best solution, but it was the best he could come up with and he had needed to act quickly. He did not believe for a second that all the Death Eaters had been caught, and if the Ministry had any say in where Harry was to be raised, it would not been long before the Death Eaters knew.

"After what happened with Frank and Alice, it's too much of a risk to have his location widely known." Dumbledore continued. "Still, Harry doesn't deserve to be completely cut off and I know James and Lily would have wanted you to stay apart of his life," Dumbledore said, as he handed Remus a small piece of parchment.

"What is it?" Remus asked, as he took the parchment.

"That's Harry's address. You might give the Dursley's a little bit of time to get settled with him, but I'm sure Harry would love to see you."

Remus grunted noncommittally as he shoved the parchment into his pocket, not even bothering to read it.

Dumbledore watched the younger man, his heart breaking at how sad the young man was. "Remus," he said softly, waiting until Remus looked up before continuing, "what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Remus admitted, staring at the wall again.

"I can find you a job, I know-"

"No," Remus cut in. "I can't stay here."

"I understand, but Remus, you don't need to be alone. You aren't alone; you have friends."

"Don't! Just don't, okay?" Remus' voice was close to breaking again.

"Remus, please," Dumbledore pleaded.

"Was there anything else you needed?" Remus asked abruptly, shifting uncomfortably, but not acknowledging Dumbledore's words. "I told Peter's mother than I would help with the funeral; I need to be there for her."

"That's all," Dumbledore answered, barely holding back a sigh. You could not help those who did not want to be helped, no matter how much you wanted to. "Just, Remus, promise me that if you do need help, with anything that you will contact me."

"Yeah, sure," Remus responded quickly, before all but fleeing out of the room, leaving Dumbledore alone in his office.

Lowering his head, the old wizard whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He couldn't save those who were already dead, but it was worse not being to help those who were still living. He could only hope that eventually Remus would find some happiness, somewhere.