Author's Notes: This is the last chapter kiddies. I have an epilogue to write, and then that's it. God, finally. I've been writing this since December and I'm getting v. tired of it.

The months slipped away, and as they did the Leaky Cauldron found itself transformed into the utmost warmth and cleanliness. Soon Remus's jam jar ran out of space for the spare cash he was putting in it, and he started another. Mostly only Knuts and Sickles were to be found in his little jars, but the occasional gold Galleon twinkled from between the silver and bronze.

Remus was finding himself quite a money-earner in repair works. Tom had begun paying him for his extra repairs, and things were no longer as tight money-wise. He enjoyed his work and his writing, and thrived on his hot cocoa. Life was good to Remus again, although no matter how happy he was a thorn of sadness still pricked his heart for what he had lost.

And another month passed. He now had himself a second full of money, and was well on his way to a home, albeit a small one, of his own. But when he was at home, he was lonely; so he decided to take a bit of his Muggle money that he used for groceries and daily shopping and get himself a pet.

Remus went into Muggle London to the pound and began looking at the cats. There were many of them, more old than young. He immediately passed up the frolicking kittens; they were young and cute and would find homes easily enough. It was an older cat he was looking for.

As he passed one cage, a paw shot out between the gaps, trying to reach him. Remus stopped to look at the occupant.

It was an old war veteran-like cat, one ear torn and the other droopy. His tail had the look of being broken more than once; the cat waved this jaunty war banner about happily. He was a scruffy-looking thing, with short, dark fur and orange eyes. Remus wondered how long he had been here.

A half an hour later, Remus was at home with the necessary supplies to care for his new pet, and said pet purring happily and batting a ball around his living room.

The old but still robust cat settled in and quickly developed a bond with Remus. He was fiercely loyal, and stuck to his schedule. Like Remus, the cat seemed to enjoy routine, and so they settled into one. Remus would get up at seven, feed his cat at 7:30, and leave for work at eight. When he got back from work at four, he would fix himself dinner, which would be ready by five or so, when he fed the cat. The rest of the evening would be spent reading, or working on a project, the cat watching all the while. And when Remus went to bed, the cat would follow and curl up at the foot of the bed and purr. Remus left the door slightly open after discovering his cat's tendency for midnight wanderings, until he got a cat door.

But soon his new feline friend required a name. He could no longer be called Kitty, or Cat.

Remus sat on the floor of his living room one June evening, a week after he had brought home the cat. It was a beautiful night, an Remus only wished he lived in the country so he could see the sunset and watch the stars come out. But that would be impossible in the middle of crowded London, where tall buildings blocked out the sky and air pollution dimmed the stars.

Remus toyed with different names, calling them out to the cat, which was playing with a loose thread on the rug. He went through many names, but the cat finally lifted its eyes in response to a name. Therefore, the cat was christened Socks.

The cat came to have many other nicknames over the months as he settled in more and more.

Remus sat by the fire one evening and looked through some old picture albums. It still hurt, looking at pictures of the Marauders, and he had the slight urge to rip every picture of Peter to shreds, but it didn't hurt as much as it once would have.

And life went on. Remus enjoyed settling into a routine, for the first time in several years. Previously he had been spending much of his time at emergency Order meetings, and had no chance to get out and about. He had lived in fear back in those days, and for good reason. Remus did a little writing in his spare time, and got through quite a lot of reading. It was a peaceful life. The weather got bitter and cold, and next thing he knew it was Halloween again.

Remus could hardly believe that a whole year had passed since Lily and James had died. It seemed like yesterday, or a few days ago even. But not a whole year.

He spent the day in a bit of a stupor, both dreading and anticipating what he was planning to do. He wondered just how he would react to visiting their graves again, for the first time in nearly a year. He had never quite been able to bring himself to visit before, but he never forgot.

As the sun began to set, Remus Apparated to the graveyard. He picked his way through the graves, until he reached the spot under the oak tree, where his friends would forever lie. The wind stirred brightly colored orange and yellow leaves, and they scuttled across the grass in front of the two headstones.

Remus noted that someone had been earlier, probably today, and left flowers. They were roses, white roses, pure and beautiful but also somber and stately.

Remus sat and leaned against the oak tree, staring at the headstones as the sun's dying rays gilded them. The moon came out, revealing her face. She was a crescent moon tonight, young and resplendent.

Remus watched as the stars came out, twinkling almost sadly, as in remembrance of what happened on this night a year ago. He had never quite forgotten his friends' deaths, even in his times of happiness. It had always lurked in the back of his mind, and sometimes he thought about it. But he never, ever forgot the even that had changed his life so drastically.

He stood, slightly cramped. It was truly dark now, and the moon and stars were the only illumination. Remus took one last glance at Lily and James's graves, and turned and disapparated with a pop.

When he appeared at his flat, he fixed himself a mug of cocoa and stared out the window at the moon. It was his bane, his existence. Remus stood up, and dug a small candle out of a cupboard. He lit it, carried it to his room, and set it on his bedside table. Remus fell asleep watching the flame dance.