Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns my soul and anything that remotely resembles Harry Potter.

The days had dragged on and on the summer Harry Potter left Hogwarts.  He had just completed his fifth, and most stressful, year so far at the wizarding school, and had been placed back in the care of his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.  The Order of the Phoenix had promised to come for him as soon as they could, but it had been days, no weeks, since he had seen the adult wizards.  Time had seemed to slow itself down, and Harry had felt nothing.

His body was numb all the time now.  He did not speak to anyone; it was not because he did not want to, but more of the loss of will power to force the words from his mouth.  Harry did not feel as if he moved himself in the past days, but as if another being was doing a robotic motion with his legs, with his arms, with his eyes.

The boy had cried so many times in so few days that it had begun to hurt.  His eyes were usually bloodshot, and his face would have permanent tear streaks for years.  Why?

Because Sirius Black, Harry's godfather and legal guardian, a man that the boy found both a father and a brother in, was gone forever.  Dead.

Harry felt empty these days; nothing mattered anymore.  He wanted to stop living; he wanted to be with the people who had sacrificed their own lives to ensure Harry's survival.  The-boy-who-lived…Hell, it's more like the-boy-who-suffered.  I'm sick of this.

The Dursleys, on the other hand, were for the first time in Harry's life, concerned about the boy.  "He hasn't threatened us with that damned godfather of his," Vernon huffed to his wife late one night.  "Think he knows something we don't'?"

"I don't want to think about him, Vernon."

Harry did not care if they spoke about him; they could never understand him, even if he wanted them to.

He did not find comfort in either of his friends, Ron and Hermione, when he tried to open up to them about his feelings.  They can try to understand, but they still have parents.

Finally, Harry had had enough of sitting in his room; he was starving himself as it was, and he needed to get out.  He walked down the stairs in a way that felt was against his will, and made for the door. 

"Where are you going, boy?" the harsh voice of Uncle Vernon demanded.  Harry said nothing as he opened the door, his head looking down at the pavement.

As he took a step out, and one step away from the house, he felt a wall in front of him.  "Oof!" a familiar voice cried as both the wall and Harry fell back.  Harry looked up to see Remus Lupin fall backwards with a thud.

"I'm sorry!" cried Harry with a hoarse voice; it was the first time he had spoken to anyone in days.  "I'm so sorry!"

Remus pushed himself up and gave the boy a slight smile.  "It's nothing," he replied, whipping his hands on his pants to get any dirt that had traveled there off.  "How are you?

The question had a million answers, but Harry chose the one that he felt most appropriate.  "Like shit."

The older man chuckled slightly as he put a hand of Harry's shoulder.  "I would be concerned if you thought any differently."

"Have you come to take me away yet?" asked Harry quickly.

Remus shook his head no.  Harry's heart sunk, but Remus said, "I was in the neighborhood, and was wondering if you'd like to take a walk with me."

The boy stared at Remus for a moment, and then nodded his head.  Harry noticed that Remus smiled as the two of them walked down the streets of the suburban neighborhood, and he had to wonder.  "What are you so happy about?"

"Nothing," answered Remus; his voice sounded sad.  "It's how I deal with grief.  I have to push it away."

"Why?"

"There's more important things in life than dwelling on the past," explained Remus.  He looked at Harry's eyes, and Harry felt a strange feeling creep over him as he looked back.  "We all have different ways to deal with Sirius's death, Harry.  I think he's finally happy now."

The two had reached Magnolia Crescent.  The small playground that Harry had grown up using as a hiding place from Dudley and his gang had become a home away from home at times.  Remus led him into the playground and sat on the empty merry-go-round.  Harry followed his lead, and sat across from him.

"What do you mean by 'happy'?"

"I think he's finally free," said Remus as he bent both of his legs and rested his elbows on his knees.  Harry felt confused for a moment, but the man continued.  "He'd been grieving James's death for fifteen years now, and had begun to tell himself that he really was the reason for his and Lily's death.  He wasn't a free man, even though he did the impossible and escaped Azkaban."

Harry nodded as a tear slid down his cheek.  "Do you believe in Heaven?"

Remus said nothing as he closed his eyes for a moment.  "I like to think that Sirius is in an open field with tall grass, blue skies, and a stag waiting for him," he sighed; Remus's eyes were still closed.  Harry closed his eyes, too, trying to picture the place that the man described. 

He saw Padfoot, the big black dog, in a field with wonderful green grass.  There was not a cloud in the sky, but it was not sky blue; no, it was a beautiful aquamarine.  Sunlight poured onto the dog's face as he noticed a white stag up ahead of him, graceful and pure.  The dog ran, but the stag merely strolled, and when they met, the dog hurled itself on the stag.  Harry smiled for the first time since…

"I like that analogy," whispered Harry as he opened his eyes; Remus had tears streaming down his cheeks, and his dark, amber eyes were still closed.

"I do, too."  Remus opened his eyes and gazed at the boy.  "We're all we have left, Harry.  We're the only ones who hold the love for them that they deserve."

A clap of low thunder roared in the distance, and Harry saw a raindrop fall into the lenses of his glasses.  It was useless to try and wipe it off; he pushed them up to rest on top of his head.  His wild hair did not agree, and pushed itself back onto his forehead.  He could hardly see Remus now, who was only a few feet away, but he knew that if water covered his glasses anymore, his vision would remain the same.

Harry pushed himself up, and moved to embrace the man.  "I wish I had more memories of all of them."  Remus wrapped his arms around Harry, too, as he let out a small sob.  "Don't leave me, Remus."

"I won't."

"I feel so empty," said Harry.  "I feel as if I can't do this anymore.  I'm tired, and I feel"-

"You're not weak," interrupted Remus, a little harshly.  "You've been through more horrors than anyone I know, and if I were you, I'd have been sent to St. Mungo's years ago.  You're so strong, and you don't even suspect it."

They sat in silence for a long moment.  Harry had never felt so safe before, but while he and Remus tried to comfort each other, it felt as if the world had stopped; the only things that existed was he and the werewolf.

"It's my turn," whispered Remus.

"Your turn for what?"  Harry felt tears welling up once more.

"I'm going to do everything I can to protect you," the werewolf said.  "It's my turn to watch after you."  Slowly, Remus lifted his head, and moved Harry's black, messy bangs away from his forehead with his lips.  He then placed a small kiss on the boy's lightning bolt scar.

Harry felt something that he had never felt before in this action.  His stomach turned slightly as he pulled his head up to look at Remus in the eye.  The tears were still falling from both of them as Harry leaned in a placed a gently kiss on the man's lips.   Remus did not pull back, but he tightened his embrace as Harry pulled away.

"I promise," said Remus softly, "to do the best that I can."  With that, the two buried their heads into the other's shoulder.

"Don't die on me, too, Remus," pleaded Harry.  "Everyone that I love dies…just don't get yourself killed for me.  You'll have a place in that field, too, but please don't leave me yet…"

"I won't," he replied.  "I won't leave you alone.  Ever.  You're a Marauder, too, whether you like it or not, and we look out for one another."

Harry said nothing as the feeling of acceptance and understanding rushed over him.  Remus was right; they would look out for each other.  They would look out for the memory of the Marauders.

The two sat like that for many hours, enjoying each other's company until dusk fell.

-Fin

Author's Note: Yea?  Nay?  I came up with this while I was trying to wake myself up this morning.  It was raining out, and I felt uber sad for no reason whatsoever and just had to write this.  I might touch it up later, but I think for the most part this came out how I wanted it.

By the way, is it just me or are all my one-shot fics really sad?  I have a bunch more on my hard drive, and whenever I re-read them, I end up feeling sad.  I should try writing a happy fic sometime.