Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back.
"There's nothing you can do, Harry –"
"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"
"It's too late Harry –"
"We can still reach him –"
Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go…. "There's nothing you can do, Harry…nothing…. He's gone."
In hectic moments Remus Lupin had always been able to rely on quick thinking and a harsh acceptance of reality to pull him through, even in the darkest of circumstances. Since the battle at the Department of Mysteries, his mind had haunted him with the memory of dragging Harry backwards, forcing him away from the veil, and away from the hope that Sirius may have still been alive.
He, himself, had surrendered such hope more than fifteen years ago. Many would have conceded that those were darker times, when Voldemort's power had reached its pinnacle, and no one knew who to trust. Except for him. He had three amazing friends, school mates who had stayed beside him in every trial and tribulation that life could have possibly thrown at them. When other shunned him for being different, they welcomed him with open arms…
And now – he was alone. True, Peter was among the living still, but fourteen years of contrasting beliefs left him dead in Remus's mind. Sirius, the man Remus had put all of his faith in when it came to choosing a secret keeper for Lily and James, had only just been returned to him, from the chaos of supposed betrayal and heartbreak, he had come back. But now, he was gone once more, and from this – there would be no returning.
Rubbing his temples tenderly, Remus sighed, dim candle light flickering over faded parchments on a worn wooden desk. It happened every time. Every time he closed his eyes, hoping to succumb to the black nothingness, he was rewarded with vivid imagery. Scene by scene remembrances of exactly what occurred that day, from bursting into the council chamber, Sirius beside him, to the moment his best friend's laughing face vanished behind that wisp of cloth.
He had tried everything to avoid dwelling on the subject, knowing for his sake that it was best to let go. Yet, no matter how he tried, the visions only came in fiercer detail. On occasion he was allowed a freedom, to navigate through the recesses of his mind, back in time to better days, when the only things that mattered were the full moon and practical jokes. He was granted the liberty of watching his friends as they lounged by the lake, and he beside them, laughing at some joke one of them had told.
Always, he noticed just how often his mind flicked to Sirius, shaggy black hair falling handsomely on a smooth face that Remus couldn't help but adore. He gave parting glances to James, and to Peter, but each time they vanished into the blurred areas of his vision, giving Sirius plenty of room to take centre stage, and opportunity he rarely received around James.
He supposed Peter and James eventually figured out what passed between the two of them in their late night journeys to the library; Sirius, after all had never been overly fond of books. Their escapades were never openly mentioned, Remus, preferring to keep the thoughts to himself, content to bask in the glory of their new adventure. Why Sirius had kept quiet was an entirely different matter, and one the boy had, as a promiscuous teenager, worn openly on his sleeve, though his crux never seemed to notice it.
By fourth year, all four of the Marauders had begun to grown into themselves, defining the established characteristics that would make them the men they later grew up to be. James began to fawn over Lily, who never paid him a lick of attention, despite his showy attempts. Sirius, though he was often found cavorting with girls, seemed to dog James's footsteps like never before, until the two were almost inseparable – brothers some called them. Remus remained, as usual, the quiet one who enjoyed nothing more than to be lost in books, but anyone who watched him carefully would notice that after a few moments, his eyes would stop traversing the pages he seemed so devoted to, and remain stationary just over top of the tome he was immersed in. Peter – well Peter had always been the strange one – hanging on James's and Sirius's every move simply because they had established a name for themselves.
Every time Remus's thoughts strayed to the subject of his old comrade, he could only wonder, never blaming the man for what he had done, but instead – himself. He, Sirius, and James had easily garnered the reputation of being remarkably bright students and yet, they had never managed the wit to see what was happening just under their own noses. James revelled in the glory that he received from Peter, basking in the hero worship that only fuelled his arrogance – something Lily had always hated. Whatever pleased James was more than alright with Sirius, though he often lost his temper with the eager boy, even into adulthood. And Remus, he had always been a fairly trusting person, despite the troubles he endured in life, and honestly, never paid enough attention to Peter to notice any of his faults or flaws.
It was a nice life they led, the four of them; a friendship as strong and unrivalled as any that could have been found within the walls of Hogwarts. And now, as he sat immobilized at his desk, he realised for perhaps the first time, the full effect of everything that had happened over the course of recent years, months, weeks, and even days.
He was alone.
It had taken him all of fifteen years to realize just how alone he was. No longer could he look to James for a cheery smile and rumpled hair. Sirius would never again grin lopsidedly at him, whilst hexing the pants off of someone they knew. Even Peter, whom Remus had never shown any real affection for, and vice versa, would never stand before him begging help with a spell that he just couldn't seem to master. Those were all memories of life long gone, and memories that Remus had to suffer with for the rest of his time on earth, whilst James and Sirius, and undoubtedly Peter in the near future, had been granted pardon from the torment.
In the silence, Remus glanced from the faded parchment to the flickering candlelight. Eyes transfixed on the dancing flame, as it jumped, ceaselessly, in an unending saga of its own. As he watched, a solitary tear slid over the angles of his face, falling lightly, with a silver glitter, to the paper – effectively blotting out the word written there.
It was shortly joined by many more of its kind, as the aged Marauder laid his head down to rest upon threadbare sleeves. Torrents of emotion spilled forth as he gave in to the events that had twisted his life into what it had become. Fifteen years he had held in these feelings, reason and thought holding sway over his heart, which at first had wanted nothing more than to break apart and be destroyed.
As the tears flooded down his face, he wondered how he could have possibly lasted so long. For once, his logical mind couldn't give him an answer. No reason presented itself, in rudimentary fashion, to uncomplicate his life. He had lived for his friends, and now they were gone. Melancholy overcame him as he grieved, leading him to the question that he had somehow avoided for fifteen years… was life still worth living?
Shuddering at the thought, body heaving with his racking sobs, he lifted his gaze, dwelling once more on the garish candlelight. Whether it was an illusion of his trouble mind, or the miracles of magic, he was never certain, but Remus was assuredly convinced that a stag and large black dog were frolicking, quite merrily in the flame. In his mind, he heard Sirius's voice call out to him, bark-like laughter echoing in the hollows.
"Cheer up, Moony! Everything will be alright!"
James's voice quickly followed, cheerful and carefree, as it had always been. "We're counting on you to finish up our work! Tie loose ends and all that. You were always best at that sort of thing."
"Prongsie and I can't be trusted with important happenings, we'd just joke everything up. You've got to stand strong, be the logical man I remember."
"And for Merlin's sake, don't so anything stupid."
Rearing on its hind legs, the stag galloped into the darkness, an ember rising into the air before vanishing with the dog on its heels. And in the course of stunning realizations, Remus came to the long-awaited conclusion that yes – he was very much alone, but that didn't mean someone wasn't watching.