Disclaimer: I do not own the situations or characters you recognize in this story. That privilege belongs solely to J.K. Rowling.

The Days After

By Neurotica

He woke suddenly but didn't have the energy to open his eyes right away. Due to the lack of light streaming through the large window above his head, he was sure it was still dark, and he was not yet ready to face the day. Using what little Occlumency skills he possessed, he cleared his mind, trying to get back to sleep.

It wasn't working.

Sighing, Remus Lupin (Moony to his closest of friends) opened his eyes and stared straight up at the white ceiling above his bed. He stretched his arms above his sandy-colored hair, prematurely speckled with grey, and turned to glance his Muggle alarm clock. He groaned loudly. 12:01 a.m., the red numbers innocently displayed. He had only been in bed for two hours and he was awake again.

Well, the good news was that Halloween was finally over. Halloween had always been a favorite holiday of Remus'. It was the favorite holiday of all the Marauders—April Fool's Day and Halloween were the best times for pranks.

This year, however, had been nothing short of hell for Remus. For the first time since before he started Hogwarts, Remus spent Halloween alone. James, Lily, and Harry had gone into hiding under the Fidelius Charm a little over a week previously. Even though Remus had been to their home in Godric's Hollow countless times, the charm now prevented him from seeing his friend's faces.

The last time he'd spoken with Lily was when she'd come to tell him they were going into hiding. Sirius would be their Secret-Keeper. She'd insisted that them choosing Sirius over Remus had nothing to do with her and James not trusting Remus. Because she did trust Remus... She told him so all the time. No, the fact was Sirius was James' best friend.

Remus rubbed his face roughly with his hands. He'd thought he had been one of James' best friends at one point. But it had always been Sirius and James, James and Sirius, since day one.

Remus hadn't spoken with Sirius or James in months. A riff, a painful riff, had grown between the Marauders and was slowly ripping them all apart. Well, it was ripping Remus apart. The riff was particularly strong between Remus and Sirius.

Remus knew that Sirius believed him to be the spy within the Order of the Phoenix even if he'd never come out and pointed any fingers; Remus could spot the mistrust in Sirius' eyes every time they looked at one another at meetings.

Not that Remus' trust in Sirius was much better. Remus was convinced Sirius was the true spy, that he had been the one passing the Potters' movements on to Voldemort. After all, there was not one person closer to Lily and James Potter than Sirius Black. They had even named Sirius Harry's godfather when the child had been born.

Harry.

Remus smiled softly and closed his eyes at the thought of Lily and James' first born, the first of many for the couple, Remus was sure. Lily had brought Harry over when she'd come to see him a week ago. Harry had even learned to say Remus' nickname ("Mooy") that afternoon. Harry would definitely be a heartbreaker and a prankster, just like his father, when he reached Hogwarts.

If he reaches Hogwarts... a sinister voice in Remus' mind said.

"He will reach Hogwarts. They'll get out of this," Remus said aloud, trying to convince himself.

The truth was, Remus wasn't sure they would make it out of this war. Not just Lily, James, and Harry, but any of them. Times were getting darker; no one was safe anymore. Remus could only hope that his lack of trust in Sirius was misplaced.

But the evidence...

Remus had been on an undercover mission for Dumbledore and the Order a few months ago in a Knockturn Alley pub. He had heard Lucius Malfoy and Augustus Rookwood talking about "the Black boy" giving them information in the coming weeks. Remus reported his findings to Dumbledore, and the Order leader assured Remus he would look into it. Remus had done his own "looking into it" and found that Sirius was disappearing more and more as of late. He'd grown secretive around Remus, cautious, two things Sirius Black never was. Since that night, Remus was positive that Sirius had become a Death Eater.

What didn't make sense was why Sirius would turn down the path of darkness. He was always against his own family and their dark ways. He'd been disowned because of it. Some of Sirius' best friends were half-blood or less (Remus having a Muggle mother; Lily being a Muggleborn). None of the girls Sirius dated in school had been pureblood.

Perhaps Sirius was just a good actor and he'd fooled them all.

But James trusts him, the voice said. James trusts Sirius more than he trusts you.

Remus groaned again. None of it made sense. Why couldn't life just go back to being simple? Why couldn't it go back to when the most the Marauders ever worried about was how many dungbombs they had on hand?

Remus turned away from the alarm clock, now blinking 12:53 a.m., and closed his eyes, willing sleep to take him away from his thoughts.

Nine hours later, Remus stumbled out of bed, throwing the bed cover over it. He'd make it later. He pulled an old Muggle t-shirt and a faded, torn pair of jeans from his dresser and headed for the bathroom for a long shower.

He contemplated trying to contact Sirius, just to see how Lily and James were doing, if they were going mad with being locked up yet, but it would probably end badly; Sirius and Remus hadn't been able to talk without arguing and taking their wands out on one another for months.

Maybe Peter would know...

Remus finished his shower and headed for the fireplace. He grabbed the jar of Floo powder from the mantle—he made a mental note to get more in Diagon Alley on his next visit—and threw a pinch into the grate. Remus stuck his head into the green flames, called Peter's address, and waited for the spinning to stop.

"Peter?" he called to the empty room. Peter had always been a late sleeper. "Pete! It's Remus!"

Silence.

Maybe he'd gone out for the day?

Disappointed, and feeling more than a little putout, Remus pulled his head out of the fireplace and sat back on his worn carpet.

Even though Sirius and James hadn't spoken with him in so long, Peter had always been there when he had a break from his job in the Ministry or doing errands for his mother. The two of them had spent late nights, drinking firewhiskey, discussing the events of their world. Peter had always tried to assure Remus that Sirius and James would get over their issues, that Voldemort (though Peter always refused to call him anything but You-Know-Who) would be defeated, and things would get back to normal.

It was during these conversations that Remus thought there may be hope, after all.

A tapping sound at the window broke Remus from his thoughts. It was the Daily Prophet owl. Remus raised an eyebrow; the paper usually arrived earlier than this.

Shrugging, Remus stood, took a few knuts from the bowl he kept for the morning paper (he couldn't afford the evening edition), and opened the window. The owl stepped closer and held out the paper that had been tied to its leg. Remus put the coins in the brown leather pouch on its other leg, took the paper, and watched the owl fly off into the bright blue sky.

Remus placed the rolled up newspaper on the kitchen table and moved to the counter to make his morning coffee. Lily had been the one to start Remus' obsession with the drink, and he found he couldn't function until he had it.

Coffee cup in hand, Remus sat down at the table and started to unroll the paper. He looked at the headline once... twice... three times. Horrified at what he was reading, Remus jumped back from the table, knocking over his chair, banging into the table, making his coffee spill to the floor. The cup rolled off and shattered at Remus' feet. He didn't notice.

Closing his eyes tightly, trying to convince himself he hadn't seen what he thought he had, Remus slowly moved forward to the paper as though if he moved too quickly, it would explode. He opened his eyes and gripped the table for support.

This time he averted his eyes from the headline and looked instead at the photo beneath it.

It was a house he knew very well— the Potters' home.

That tree... that's Lily and James' tree.

That house... no... that couldn't be their house. Their house wasn't a pile of rubble.

Against his mind's will, Remus moved his eyes back to the headline again:

Potters Murdered; He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Disappeared

"No... no... nonononononononononono," Remus muttered, scanning the article.

Lily and James Potter found dead just after midnight... Fifteen-month-old son, Harry James, alive... No sign of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"NO!" Remus screamed into his empty cottage. His legs gave way. He collapsed to the floor, sobbing onto his folded arms on the table.

"It's not true... can't be true..." he said over and over through his tears. "How?" he said weakly.

A hand closed on Remus' shoulder. Remus spun around, backed into the table, ready to fight until he saw who had come into his home unannounced.

Albus Dumbledore stood calmly before him looking sadder than Remus had ever seen him.

"It's not true," Remus whispered pleadingly to Dumbledore. He didn't care that he sounded like a twelve-year-old whose kneazle had died while he was away at school. He needed Dumbledore, his mentor, the only man that trusted him enough to admit him into Hogwarts, to tell him Lily and James and Harry were all safe and sound, that the Prophet was lying.

Dumbledore knelt before him and put a hand on Remus' shoulder. "I'm sorry, Remus," he said softly.

"NO! Please, no!" Remus cried.

Dumbledore sat beside Remus on the floor and pulled the twenty-one-year old man into a tight embrace. Remus cried into Dumbledore's purple robes for what felt like hours. During that time, Dumbledore remained silent, allowing Remus to get his grief out.

Finally, Remus pulled away. His amber colored eyes rimmed with red looked into Dumbledore's blue eyes. "How?" Remus choked. "S-Sirius..."

Dumbledore sighed heavily and looked away from Remus.

"Not him too..." Remus whispered hoarsely. Three of his friends, ripped from him in one night...

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. Sirius Black is alive..." Remus felt slight relief fill him up. His friend was alive. He wouldn't have to face the grief and pain alone. "He is on his way to Azkaban Prison this morning." He didn't notice the slight edge in Dumbledore's voice

"What?" Remus breathed. His lungs were constricted; walls were closing in on him. "Why?"

"You are aware that Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper, correct?" Remus nodded slowly. "Last night, Black turned the Potters over to Lord Voldemort."

Remus paled. There was no feeling left in his body. Dumbledore could have used a Cruciatus Curse on him right then and there, and Remus would not have felt it. He couldn't even bring himself to deny Sirius had done anything like that. That Sirius would die before he let any harm come to Lily or James or Harry.

Dumbledore continued. "Black arrived at Godric's Hollow not long after it happened. Young Harry survived. I do not know how just yet, but it seems that when Lord Voldemort attempted to kill Harry with the Killing Curse, it backfired. Harry escaped with nothing but a cut on his forehead; Voldemort has disappeared.

"Black tried to take Harry from the scene, but Hagrid arrived before he could. I sent Hagrid to retrieve Harry. He will be going to his aunt and uncle's home where he will remain safe."

Remus was shaking from head to toe. Tears were streaming down his pale face. He made no move to wipe them. What did he care?

"After he left Godric's Hollow, Black went to Muggle London. Peter Pettigrew found him. Witnesses say that Peter tried to apprehend Black on his own, but Black was too quick. He blew the street apart. Twelve innocent Muggles died in the explosion, along with Peter Pettigrew."

"No..." Remus whispered in horror. "Not Peter..."

Remus was inconsolable. He walked across the grounds of the cemetery to the group of grieving people who had already arrived. He had spent what was left of his savings to buy new dress robes—black dress robes. He couldn't say goodbye to his friends wearing torn and faded robes...

McGonagall met him halfway, patted his arm—he couldn't feel it—whispered words of comfort he couldn't hear, and led him to the front of the crowd.

Remus' knees nearly buckled. Two shining mahogany caskets were placed before dozens of chairs. Open. They were open caskets. Remus couldn't bear to look into them. McGonagall sat him in a chair, rubbed his shoulder consolingly, and moved away.

The ceremony may have been beautiful, Remus wouldn't know. Spent the entire time staring at the caskets, still hoping this was all a bad dream. Person after person spoke about how wonderful Lily and James had been. What wonderful parents and friends they had been.

None of them knew...

None of them knew that James had become an illegal Animagus to help Remus keep his mind during the full moon.

None of them knew how Lily would come over the mornings after the full moon to help him clean and seal his wounds.

None of them knew anything about how truly great Lily and James Potter had been...

Tears were impossible at this point. Remus was numb.

The time had come for the friends and loved ones to say goodbye. Remus stood on shaky legs and walked to the first casket.

James. Prongs...

It didn't even look like Remus friend. It was obvious that whoever had fixed James up for the funeral had no idea what he was supposed to look like. The hair was too flat for one. He was too pale; James always had a healthy tan. James' hand was clutched tightly around the remnants of his wand.

"Goodbye, Prongs," Remus whispered, leaning down to kiss James' forehead. "No matter what happened between us, I'll always love you. You were my brother." Remus ruffled his hair a bit before moving on to the next casket.

Lily. Oh god, Lily. Remus' first friend at Hogwarts. The girl who didn't know what a quaffle was until the first Quidditch game of the season. She looked as beautiful as ever. Her dark red hair fanned around her head, framing her pale face. Remus wished he could look into her eyes just once more...

"Goodbye, Lil. I love you," Remus whispered. He kissed Lily's cheek and stumbled away.

Remus stood next to Dumbledore. The older wizard held him up, tried to console him. It was impossible.

Just as Remus turned to leave, a small voice called out to him. "Mooey!"

Remus spun around and laid eyes upon a thin woman with blonde hair, long neck, and bony face struggling to hold a squirming bundle with black untidy hair and emerald green eyes.

Remus moved quicker than he had in days to get to Harry. He tore the infant from his baffled aunt's arms and held him close. Harry wrapped his fat little arms around Remus' neck tightly, smiling with his three baby teeth and laughing. The wizard cried into Harry's hair until Dumbledore gently pulled the boy from his arms.

"He must go, Remus," Dumbledore said quietly, handing Harry back to his aunt.

Remus wanted to argue, to tell Dumbledore that he would take Harry home, that he would raise Harry as his own. But Remus' throat locked up before Petunia Dursley unknowingly took the last remaining thread Remus had to his friends away from him.

Remus collapsed to his knees, crying once more.

The pain... What he felt on the full moon was nothing compared to this, not even close.

How could this happen?

He kept asking himself that question throughout Peter's funeral the very next day.

He was completely alone. His friends had left him behind. Sirius had betrayed them all.

As Remus drained his fourth bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey in two days, he tried to figure out how life had gotten this horrible. What would he do now? Oh, sure, Voldemort was gone, but so were the best friends Remus had ever had. They were his family. He no longer had anyone to turn to.

Falling asleep on his patched sofa, Remus wondered when he would wake up and find that the past months had all been a long, drawn out nightmare.

The next morning, Remus J. Lupin realized he was still living that nightmare, and he would be for the rest of his life.