~To: Sirius Black, Animagus, a.k.a. Padfoot~

Dear Sirius,

Nice of you to bloody die on me, wouldn't you say? Please note the sarcasm.

If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm the one writing. Me. Remus Lupin. Moony. Werewolf. Half-breed. Whatever you feel like calling me at the moment.

Personally, I'm rather inclined to call you a mangy, idiotic mutt at the moment.

Honestly, what were you thinking? Oh, right—nothing. Nothing whatsoever. Not 'uh-oh, that's a potentially lethal curse coming at me, better duck!'. Not 'hmm, maybe I should look up for a second to see that Dumbledore's here and the fight's over...'! Not 'I have a best friend and a godson to think of, not to mention a cousin and a group of other friends. They might miss me if I die. So maybe I should try not to die.'! Nothing! You weren't thinking about Harry, Tonks, me, anyone! Just your stupid fight!

I apologize for that, but it's very close to the full moon. And I believe I have a right to yell at you anyway...not to mention that you'll never read this letter, so why should I bother trying to be more polite?

You're—ridiculous. A bloody git. Only thinking of yourself. Of course, now you're not thinking of anything at all...

We can't even have a proper funeral for you, did you know that? No chance to say goodbye. None. D'you know how much that hurts, Padfoot? I've seen Harry's face, when he thinks no one's watching him. I've never seen, nor have I ever thought, hoped, or wished to see, such pain on a fifteen-year-old's face. A fifteen-year-old, Sirius. Fifteen. I've met grown-ups who haven't gone through that much pain, that much suffering, who can barely even imagine it. Did you know that?

I bet you're having a jolly good time up there, wherever you are. Laughing with James, just like old times. Getting smacked over the head by Lily, just like old times. You probably don't even miss anyone that you left behind. The world you left behind.

Truth is, you're probably better off out of it.

We're leading up to a full-out war, Sirius. War. That mean anything to you? We're going to lose people, I don't know how many. I don't want to know how many.

Voldemort's on the move, Sirius, and he's going to do his best not to let any of us survive.

I don't know how to end this letter. Mostly because it's not even a letter, really, just an outpouring of feelings, of emotions.

I hate you. Well, no, I don't. But I really wish you hadn't died on me, Padfoot. I miss you. We were the last two Marauders (apart for Wormtail, that is), and, well, fool that I am, I expected that to last, if only for a little while longer. I didn't expect you to do something stupid and get yourself killed. Well, I probably should have anticipated the 'doing something stupid' part, shouldn't I? I mean, that's practically your trademark...

Say hi to James and Lily for me, mate. I'll see you...and it'll probably be sooner than I used to anticipate.

-Remus

~Remus Lupin, werewolf, a.k.a. Moony, signing off~