Remus was in a numb shock. He sat silently, not listening to anyone speak, not saying a word. He didn't want to believe it, any of it. He didn't want it to be real. He wanted it to be a dream, and he would wake up and he wouldn't be alone.
James and Lily-- murdered. He would never see them again, never hear James' teasing or Lily's scolding. They would never be able to raise their son, and he wouldn't remember them. Poor Harry, being sent to live with people who didn't care about him. Harry was alone, just like Remus.
Peter-- dead. Obliterated. Destroyed by one they had called friend. Peter's poor mother would never see her son again. Remus would never see him again. The cost of the war was too great for Remus, losing his friends so soon.
Sirius-- locked up in Azkaban as a murderer. Remus didn't want to believe that he had killed Peter, that he had betrayed James and Lily. Remus didn't want to be angry at him. How could he? In just a matter of days, of hours, Sirius had taken away the people Remus cared about. Why would he kill his friends? Why hadn't he killed Remus too? Remus simply couldn't believe that the Sirius he had known would betray and murder his friends.
For the rest of his life, Remus would face the full moons alone. No longer would he be accompanied by a stag, a dog, and a rat. They would no longer play with the wolf, and keep him from hurting himself or anyone else. He would be alone, for the rest of his life. He would never see any of them again.
Remus hung his head and finally let the tears come freely.