Remus was heading back towards his inn in Newcastle, tired and frustrated after a fruitless forty-eight-hour stakeout of a suspected Death Eater rendezvous site outside the city, when he first realized that something unusual was going on.
It was past eleven at night, and yet the streets of Newcastle were flooded with people, all of whom appeared to be very obviously dressed as wizards. Newcastle had always had a large wizarding population, but never one so blatant about it. Some wizards were even shooting fireworks from the tips of their wands, which was most certainly a violation of the International Statute of Secrecy.
"What's going on?" Remus asked one of the wizards conjuring the fireworks.
The man blinked at him, taken aback, his eyes flicking down to the wand poking out from Remus's pocket. "How could you not know, man?" he exclaimed. "He Who Must Not Be Named is dead!"
Remus's mouth fell open. "I—what? Dead? How—?"
"Dead indeed, and defeated by a baby boy!" The wizard turned around to address his friends behind him. "Oi! Someone get this bloke a copy of the Prophet!"
A witch scurried forward with a tattered, well-read copy of the Daily Prophet in her hands, giving it over to Remus. His eyes caught on the headline, bold black letters above a picture of a grim-faced Voldemort: THE DARK LORD'S REIGN IS OVER AT LAST.
Heart pounding, Remus ducked away without a word and ran beneath the nearest streetlight to read more:
Today marks the most joyous day for the British wizarding community since the defeat of Grindelwald many years ago: the Dark wizard referred to among our people as You-Know-Who has met his end at the hands of a fifteen-month-old boy by the name of Harry Potter, the son of James and Lily Potter, both of whom appear to have been murdered only moments before the Dark Lord's unexpected demise.
Remus sucked in a breath. His eyes skimmed across the paper at lightning speed, his insides hollowing out more and more with every word:
James and Lily Potter, residents of Godric's Hollow, were known to be two of the Dark Lord's most fearsome opponents. While the reason for the Dark Lord's attack on their home is as unknown as the reason behind his defeat, many are inferring a link between the attack and the unveiling of Sirius Black, one of the Potters' closest friends, as a Death Eater earlier today. Mr Black has been apprehended by the Ministry following a deadly confrontation with another close friend, Mr Peter Pettigrew, on the streets of London; Black will be charged with the murder of twelve Muggles in addition to Mr Pettigrew and sent to Azkaban Prison without a trial. This unfortunate occurrence—
Remus crumpled up the paper in his hands, shaking; he couldn't read anymore. It couldn't be true—James and Lily and Peter all dead, his closest friends in the world, betrayed by Sirius…Sirius, a Death Eater, a murderer…. There was no way. Remus would have known.
Maybe not, he thought, the hollowness within him growing; maybe he had been so consumed with the darkness inside himself that he hadn't noticed the darkness emerging within Sirius, the darkness that he'd always known was there and always been more than a little frightened of. Remus hadn't loved Sirius properly ever since he returned from his time with Fenrir—could that have been what drove him over the edge and into Voldemort's arms? The more he thought about it, the more it made terrible, perfect sense.
Sirius had become a Death Eater, one capable of betraying his closest friends. He'd given in to his darkness, and it was all Remus's fault.
With his ears ringing and his vision fading in and out, Remus retreated away from the light and into a darkened alley nearby, pressing himself back against the wall as if he could sink right through it. As the wizards around him cheered and caroused about the city, Remus buried his face in the paper announcing the end of his world and cried as he never had before.
