This is written for the Potter Games. Not sure if I like how this turned out but it's something. Prompts were "Well, I've been afraid of changing 'cause I've built my life around you"- Stevie Nicks (I took this in a non romantic way here.), watching the rain, feather, whisper, and ruin.
Remus stood at a distance as the funeral came to a close. It had been long and so many people had shown up. The entire Order was standing in the front row. Well… almost the entire Order. He didn't think he could stand up there without falling apart.
All he could see when he closed his eyes was the scene that had met him when he'd rushed to Godric's Hollow a few nights ago. The house was in ruins, smoking slightly from the recent fire, the street was blown apart and Ministry officials were swarming the area modifying memories, and Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen which Remus had found disconcerting. If there was anything worse that seeing Lily and James being pulled out of the wreckage it had been the sounds of Sirius being hauled off to Azkaban from a few blocks away. And where was Peter, he'd thought. Remus knew now where Peter was. He couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling that had settled on him since that moment in Godric's Hollow. It felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
The crowd began to disperse and the rain that had been threatening to fall all afternoon came down in icy sheets. Remus didn't move from where he was standing, preferring to watch Dumbledore wave his wand and cover the two coffins with fresh dirt. After he was finished he turned and walked right over to where the broken man was standing. Fawkes came to sit on the older wizard's shoulder, his red feathers casting an astonishing contrast to the dull atmosphere surrounding the little graveyard.
"You should get out of the rain, Remus," Dumbledore said.
Remus simply shrugged. He didn't see how the rain mattered right now. Nothing mattered anymore. Voldemort was defeated, his best friends were dead or imprisoned, and he had nothing to do and nowhere to go. What did a little rain matter?
"What do I do now?" he whispered, more to himself than to Dumbledore.
The older man smiled gently and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What you've always done. What you have to do."
"What I've always done," Remus repeated. "I can't do what I've always done. Because I didn't do it by myself. I always had Sirius or James or Lily or even Peter and now I'm alone and I can't…" his voice broke and he looked down at his shoes because he didn't think he could continue to meet Dumbledore's penetrating gaze. He took a shaky breath before continuing. "You don't know what this is like," he said, the anger that had been simmering below the surface starting to rise. He felt it in his chest, just waiting for someone to take it out on. He knew Dumbledore didn't deserve it, but he also didn't have anyone else to go to. "You don't know what it's like to lose everything, to have your entire life be turned upside down over and over again. So don't you dare tell me that I need move on just like that. You don't have a clue."
With that he turned on his heel and walked back to the charred remains of the Potter's residence, took one last look, and the Disapparated.
Dumbledore didn't try to stop him; he knew it was useless and he knew that Remus needed to shout a little bit. So he let him. But as he stared at the spot where Remus disappeared, he shook his head sadly and stroked Fawkes' feathers. "I understand better than you think, dear boy. Oh, how I wish I didn't."