Remus was sifting through his memories on a quiet rainy day; Tonks was out on Order business. He had time to think.
His eyes started to prickle, no matter how much he tried to repress them, as he thought of James and Sirius. He and Wormtail were the only Marauders left now- but who knew how much longer he would be alive. The war against Voldemort was a dangerous business; he knew that all of the hands on Mrs. Weasley's clock were pointing to "Mortal Peril" now.
With a small, water laugh, he remembered the time when the Marauders and their girlfriends had snuck out to Hogsmeade. Amanda had been nice to him- before she found out the truth. No one had thought that she would have been prejudiced, but nobody-in their little group at least-could tell the future; how was anyone supposed to have known? There were countless heartbreaks from the truth.
But thinking of that time, Remus remembered something else… there had been a boy who looked almost identical to James… but he had had bright green eyes. The details were rushed and a little hazy, but he still recollected what James and Lily had told them.
It was Harry.
Sirius had been right.
It was almost too much to bear, knowing that everyone thought that Padfoot had been so wrong, but that in actuality, he had been completely right.
A solitary tear trickled down Remus' tired cheek. Between the exhausting work of trying to get the werewolves back on the side of the Order of the Phoenix, the deaths, and now this, he wasn't sure how he could get through the days.
He should have researched, Remus thought, he should have proven Sirius wrong, he should have tried to do something instead of just brushing it off. He should have… There was too much that she should have done- too much to think of on a day where he could be doing worthwhile things.
Remus got up from the chair and wiped away his tear. There was nothing left; it had dried in the time when he had been wallowing in his misery. The thoughts had taken over him for a bit- too long. Tonks would have snapped him out of it soon- at least, the way she was now. Before-before the funeral, she probably would have just added to his sorrows, instead of taking them away. But she had gotten through it, with a little help from some friends.
Unbearable? Probably.
But he would bear it anyway.