Disclaimer: I do not own Remus Lupin (Darn it all!) or anything HP.

Just a drabble I wrote on a borrowed computer. (Since mine still isn't working. Freakin' little...) Well, i'm sure the title gives you a hint of what is to come. Please enjoy. This is not my best work, by the way.

I can't believe he's gone.

There were only two of us left. Now there is only me.

I never thought I would be the last one standing.

We thought we'd be together forever. Friends until the end of time. I suppose we will be, in a way. I will never forget them. Or the power and strength of our friendship. As long as the memory lives, so does our bond.

First James and now Sirius. I can still hardly believe it.

The four of us were once all we needed.

Peter still lives, it is true. But he is dead to me now. He has been dead from the moment he sold out James and Lily to Voldemort. I curse the day we took him under our wings. That day the filthy coward was somehow sorted into Gryffindor. Peter Pettigrew is not one of us. I see now that he never really was. How we were blind to it for so many years I will never understand.

And yet my heart mourns for him nearly as much as it does James and Sirius. And Lily. Dear, sweet Lily. Any of us would have died for him. Would have died for the man we thought was our friend. Someone we could always trust. But that man never really existed. He was only portrayed.

Who would believe poor, pitiful little Peter Pettigrew would destroy so many lives?

James and Lily are dead. Murdered for doing what was right. Murdered while protecting their son. Voldemort may have been the one to do the actual killing, but Peter is just as guilty for their deaths.

He ruined Harry's life before he was even old enough to remember anything. Before he could even walk and talk. It is because of him that the poor boy has led such a life of misery. A life without a real family.

He ended thirteen innocent lives the day he had escaped justice for the first time. Stole their lives from them and changed countless others forever.

And Sirius. He endured twelve years of misery, torture and guilt for a crime he did not commit.

And mine. He ruined mine when he made me believe I had lost them all forever.

Now he's done it again. Only this time, nothing will bring any of my friends back to me.

I died a thousand deaths inside when I lost them before. James, Lily and Peter to death and Sirius to Voldemort's service and Azkaban. I died a thousand more when I saw him go through the veil. I held Harry back, even though I wanted nothing more than to follow Sirius through the veil.

None of this would have happened if Peter had not betrayed us all.

I am alone now. He has helped to rob me of my dearest friend and Harry of his godfather, one of his last remaining links to the parents he never knew.

So many lives in ruins.

I wish Sirius and I had killed him when we had the chance.

The Marauders. Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Four friends.

I am now the last. The only one left standing.

I am Remus Lupin.

The last of the Marauders.

Sad, isn't it?