i thought of this during english class. :D it's my first marauder's fic -- please review!


Remus was accustomed to loss.

He lost his humanity at the age of four; he was ready to lose his opportunity for an education; and then... in the span of twenty-four hours, he lost his three best friends in the entire world. He realized that it was that day, and not any others throughout his life, that the sudden overwhelming despair hit him in the chest like a sledgehammer.

It had been the most horrible year of his life, the one following. In truth, he had never really gotten over that day – two best friends lost to one traitor. Three, really, counting Lily – the two of them had always gotten along, but their friendship was simply strengthened once she stopped hating James.

He took up the teaching post of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts instantly the moment he heard that Sirius had escaped. Sirius (Padfoot) may have stolen the majority of what he held dear... but no. Not Harry. If there was one thing Remus was to do to pay his respects to James, it would be to protect Harry from his godfather.

He kept watch the whole year, waiting for a chance to wreak on Sirius what Sirius had wreaked on him: death. He had a sweet tooth, and its candy was Revenge.

But then something happened.

He found that Sirius had lost just as much, more, than he did that day.

And things were picking up. But they didn't go back to normal: nothing could ever be normal between Sirius and Remus again. That fateful Halloween had been too much to bear for the pair of them; Sirius had changed too much in Azkaban.

No. Things were never quite the same – but sometimes they were, little, small moments like when Sirius propped his feet on the table at Grimmauld Place or yelled at Kreacher or slipped in a sudden joke at a serious moment. And he may have lost three best friends, but then he got a half of one back – and, for a while, he was content.

He would spend time with Sirius on those off moments when he wasn't on duty or working. Things may have changed beyond return (or repair), but it was the man who was his best friend so that was enough, all respects concerned.

Remus was accustomed to loss.

And the way that Sirius died didn't surprise him.

He didn't expect him to go on a death bed with his hair turned gray; Sirius would go down with a fight. Remus always knew that, ever since the two of them met.

He knew it would happen, but he didn't know when or how – and that was what hit him hardest. He watched his best friend die on that summer night, fighting evil; he died with honor, for honor.

And Remus hated him, hated Sirius for taking away what was the last bit of his happy years for something as trivial as that.

But time went on, life went on as normal as possible during wartime. Remus eventually got used to the quietness of Grimmauld Place as its last heir of centuries finally died; no one stomped about the top floors, or yelled at Kreacher, or went flying down the stairs, or shouted back at Mrs. Black. But years passed and people died and Remus finally readjusted – he was broken a little more, but managed to hold himself together.

After all, Remus was accustomed to loss.