A/N: I don't know how plausible this is. I have no idea what, according to canon, happened straight away after James and Lily died. Either way, this is my take on it. Apologies for anything that doesn't fit in with canon.
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Remus has not left his bathroom in three days.
He is wasting away - his usually thin frame now painfully distorted, emaciated. He knows that the next full moon will likely kill him. He is counting down the days. The seconds.
Albus Dumbledore has been standing in the bathroom doorway for fifteen minutes. Remus hasn't noticed. His eyes are open, but they are fixed on the ceiling. It looks so normal, his bathroom ceiling. He doesn't understand how anything can look so normal when everything is so horribly, horribly wrong.
"Mr. Lupin," Dumbledore says, for the fifth time. Remus doesn't even blink.
There are so many things running through his mind at once - every single one something he twitches away from. James. Lily. Peter. Harry. Sirius. He sits up and retches into the toilet. There's nothing left in him to throw up, only a single, pathetic dribble of mucus slides out of his mouth. He feels cheated.
Dumbledore walks in, slowly, and puts a hand on Remus's shoulder.
His shoulders relax, briefly, until he realises that that hand can't possibly belong to Sirius, and he jerks back. He hits his head violently on the toilet, and lets out a choked sound. He closes his eyes against the pain, not even bothering to check who is in the bathroom with him. If it isn't Sirius, he doesn't care. He almost hopes a Death Eater has found him, that a whole group of Death Eaters have found him, that they'll put an end to all of this.
"Mr. Lupin," Dumbledore says again, kindly. "It's time to go."
Remus buries his head in his hands, hunching away from the voice.
Dumbledore puts a hand under his elbow, and attempts to pull him up. Remus growls, a low, violent sound deep in the back of his throat. Dumbledore doesn't let go. He speaks slowly, his voice loaded with empathy.
"I understand that this is hard, Mr Lupin, but you-"
"No," Remus croaks. "You don't." He hasn't spoken in days, and it shows. He has no idea who he is talking to - he can't bring himself to care. His head is throbbing too hard to even try and place the voice.
There is a shuffling of robes as Dumbledore sits beside him on the dank bathroom floor. He takes a deep breath, and lets it out.
"It won't get better today," he says, softly. "Not today, not tomorrow, nor in any near future, I'm afraid to say. But it will, one day. And today, we need to go."
Remus cracks his eyes open. He recognises Dumbledore, finally, and is mildly surprised to see him sitting on his bathroom floor. He feels as though he should be embarrassed, but he hasn't the energy.
"Where?" He whispers. He can't think of a single place he needs or wants to be. Will ever need or want to be.
"Godric's Hollow," Dumbledore says. He waits a moment for this to sink in before adding, "for the funeral."
Remus leans over the toilet bowl, his insides heaving, but his mouth remains dry. He wants to cry. He wants Dumbledore to leave him alone to die. There is a long silence, until Dumbledore finally speaks again.
"You are alive, Mr Lupin," he says. His voice has a final note to it, as if this should be the most important consideration of all.
Remus does not agree.