Remus Lupin sat in a rickety old chair at a rickety old desk, staring at a blank piece of parchment. He had been about to write a letter, but, overcome by the thoughts whirling through his head, he had forgotten who to address it to.
He was thinking about everything; Voldemort's return, the resulting war, and most of all, the mission to which he knew he would be assigned.
Voldemort's return. The beginning of another dreadful period of time: one of terror, agony, anguish, and death.
Remus had never really believed Voldemort to be dead, but the bitter realization of the coming horrors was almost too much to take in.
He supposed that was the problem with the Ministry of Magic. They simply refused to accept the miserable truth. Of course, they were just being stupid. The evidence of the Dark Lord's return was inarguable. Denying his rebirth was insane.
It just wasn't reasonable.
The war. The result of Voldemort's return. It had already started and would continue for a completely unknown amount of time.
It was rather like Remus' nearly-forgotten arithmancy lessons; algebra, it was called. Variables. The end of the war - e - was equal to Voldemort's final demise - d - . But there was no known to solve for the unknown.
They would have to stumble blindly through the dark, through an inestimable amount of years of war. It was crazy.
It just wasn't reasonable.
His mission. The dreaded assignment Remus knew was coming. It was a hazardous endeavour, one that was very likely to end in death, but he knew Dumbledore would ask it of him. He would soon have to live among his fellow, his equals- werewolves.
However, they would not be the friendly, book-loving, intellectual type of werewolf, as Remus was. They would be the vicious, blood-thirsty, reckless type of werewolves, as Lord Voldemort wanted.
A good man such as Remus Lupin attempting to infiltrate their ranks was ludicrous.
It just wasn't reasonable.
But out of nowhere, Remus was jarred from his deep thoughts rather rudely when Sirius went tramping past the door of Remus' makeshift office, singing a modified version of 'Jingle Bells' :
"Jingle bells, Remus smells, Nymphadora too! They're oblivious to their love, haven't got a clue!"
Suddenly, Remus remembered it was Nymphadora Tonks to whom he had been writing.
And right then, it seemed perfectly reasonable to murder Sirius.