Wake up, Remus. Wake up.
He closed his eyes.
Wake up.
Opened his eyes.
Wake up. Please, let it be a dream.
Nothing. It was still there.
…Wake up?
He wasn't going to wake up. And neither were Lily and James.
The grave was covered in flowers. He bent down and read one of the labels.
"Friends and family, I am sorry for your loss."
There was no name.
There were a lot of cards like this, anonymous messages from people from all over the country who were probably drinking on the young Harry Potter. Remus read some of them, until his eye fell on a black one, written in silver ink.
"Moony, if you read this… It wasn't me. -Padfoot"
He stared at the card. It couldn't be true. Sirius was the secret keeper. It had to be him.
His hands crumpled the card and he stood up, angry tears in his eyes.
No one was left. James. Sirius. Peter. Lily. Marlene.
He suddenly remembered something he'd read in a muggle book.
"In the end, the lonely wolf dies, but the pack survives."
They were wrong. There wasn't a pack left. The lonely wolf was lost, but had somehow, completely unintended, survived. It should've been the other way around.
But then his eyes fell upon the crumpled note again. He promised himself that, until he found out the truth, he couldn't die.
Years later, Remus still didn't quite believe it had been Sirius' fault, although he told himself differently. The note was still one of his most prized possessions, and when he didn't know what to do anymore, and thought the best thing to do was die, he took the note out of his pockets and remembered his promise.