A/N: This plot bunny had been with me for awhile but I need more coffee and about 6 more hours of sleep. As always, I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns everything.
He had been the one to find her. After helping the children he went searching for the others. She had looked so peaceful and for a second he had thought Sirius would have company tonight, behind the veil. But then he saw a shallow breath and he bent down to get her. Her skin had been so soft against his rough, old hands. Old, that was he and he realized at that very moment that age had consumed him and he was too old.
She had been waiting for him. The moon was slowly disappearing as the sun made its way over the hill. He had found her sleeping outside the shrieking shack, dew covering the grass on which she lay. She was peaceful, just as she had been at the ministry. It was odd to see her like this; she was usually so full of energy and light, so unlike him. And he thought back to the night before, but he remembered nothing, as usual. He was dangerous around the full moon, too dangerous.
He sat at his desk trying to make ends meet. He wondered if she had this problem too. Probably not, the ministry paid its Aurors well, even the young ones. He stared down at the bills again trying to think of where he was going to go now. Perhaps the Weaslys would have him. But that would be unbelievable hard for him, they would ask to many questions. Then it would have to be Sirius. He hated relying on his best friend like this, but without a steady job... poor, he was just too poor.