A/N I own nothing, JK Rowling owns all canon characters, events, and universe.

I haven't been uploading because I don't know if anyone's interested in this or not. If anyone is then let me know and I'll keep writing, I know what happens, I just don't want to waste my time typing it all up if no one's interested.

Morning 1st November 1981

"...Remus, come on son." Lyall's voice pleaded for his son to come out of the puddle of grief he had collapsed in, knowing that the more he broke down the harder it would be for him to built himself back up. It was a feeling he knew all too well following the death of his wife, and knew too that it didn't help to wallow in self-pity.

The young man, now looking younger than ever, just quivered in his arms, sobbing heavily. "I thought we were all going to make it."

Lyall couldn't think of any words to say to comfort his son, knowing that there was nothing that would bring them back. He was just grateful that he was able to be there for his son, to be able to do something right for once. He couldn't imagine how Remus was feeling, he'd lost not one but two best friends, and it had been a complete shock. At least they'd known that Hope wasn't going to make it, there had been a few days to prepare, but this was completely out of the blue, and they were as close as family to him, perhaps closer, they'd given him the childhood that he'd never been able to have.

In the end, Lyall decided that the best thing he could do was to simply hold Remus as close to him as possible, feeling guilty that he was glad to be able to embrace his son, and even more guilty that he was relieved it had been his sons best friends that had been killed. Although he had never spoken a word of it – something which Lyall was grateful for – it was plain to see that Remus was taking an all too active part in the war. Each day he read the Daily Prophet with trepidation that he would see Remus Lupin's name in print upon the paper. Somehow he'd never considered the damage that it might do to him to lose his friends to the war, even though they'd always been terrified that Remus would lose their friendship just a few years ago as a young boy at Hogwarts.

After a stretch of time that felt like both an eternity and a split second to both men, but in which the clock had ticked a thousand times, Remus finally straightened up slowly. He reached up to his face and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, sniffing once. His features hardened as he climbed to his feet with the help of the table, and he walked over to the sink to splash his face in the cold well-water, trying off with the tea towel hanging over the door of the Aga.

"I should go and see Sirius and Peter." He said, sounding calm on the surface, but just underneath the inner turmoil threatened to break free.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"We're Marauders. We stick together." Remus replied simply, knowing that it wasn't strictly the truth. Not any more. They hadn't trusted each other for a while now, and Remus had become the scapegoat. The war had turned neighbours against neighbours, brothers against brothers, and Marauders against Marauders. One Marauder in particular had been labelled the outcast, and that was obviously the lycanthropic one, he would have expected no less. There was no logic and no reasoning behind it, it was just folklore and common knowledge, no matter how untrue it was. He'd always known that the way would come when his friends had stopped seeing him as human and saw him for what he really was.

The pushed his hand through his hair, trying to push away the memory of one of the last time's he'd seen Sirius, when he'd been accused of being a spy. It wasn't something that he wanted to think about, especially not now. There was nothing less he wanted to think about than the wedge that had been driven between the group in what were now James and Lily's final days.

The door swung open, squeaking on its hinges as it did so. There had been no knock to announce the arrival of anyone, but in the doorway there was a tall, thin man, with a grey beard that reached down past his belt buckle. On his body he was wearing a pair of dark black robes, and his eyes were downcast behind his half moon spectacles. He strode over towards Remus without a word of greeting to either him or his father.

When he spoke it was abrupt and sharp. "Have you seen Sirius Black?"

It was a sign of how empty and emotionless he was that Remus's stomach didn't twist, and his skin didn't flush at the mention of the name. Instead he simply shook his head, too numb to even consider why he was being asked.

"Do you know where he may be?"

"I haven't seen him for over a week!" Remus blurted out, his frustration at being abandoned finally being drawn out by the impertinent questioning by his former headmaster, and current leader, Albus Dumbledore. The man who had kept taking him away from Sirius to the point where he had become so distrustful that they had gone their separate ways and all of his friends had turned against him. Anger bubbled up inside him as he realised that it was because of Dumbledore that Sirius had left. "He left me!"

Lyall cleared his throat loudly, stepping forward. "I think you should leave now." There was no question about it, it was a command.

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow slightly, but didn't make any comment, or show any signs of being in a hurry to leave. "Contact me immediately if you hear anything." In his own time he turned and strode back towards the door, only when he was between the door-frame did he pause, and turn around, one elegant hand on the wood, and his face now softened. "I'm sorry for your loss Remus."

The only response Remus dared to give was a curt nod and a sarcastic cough.

Silence fell upon the kitchen as Dumbledore left, only to be broken by Lyall's snort of disapproval. "He's just as patient and obnoxious as ever."

"He's probably got a lot going on." Remus muttered, but the usual reverie he held for his former headmaster was gone from his voice, replaced by hurt and anger. "I'm going to find Sirius."

Lyall still had his mouth open to argue when Remus strode over to the door, picked up his worn brown leather boots, and marched back through the kitchen to the living room. By the time Lyall had got to door himself he was only able to glimpse his son throwing a handful of powder into the fireplace, and stepping into the brilliant green flames. Although he strained his ears they were too old and too far away to make out the words over the roaring of the flames. With a sigh, he returned to his now cold tea, but drank from it anyway, shaking the head at the fact that Remus's grey hairs hadn't stopped him acting like a stubborn teenager. His eyes fell upon the Daily Prophet once more, and he skimmed the rest of the article.

– last night, although it is thought that the Potter's had gone into hiding due to being known members of the resistance against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's reign of terror. The Auror office refuses to give any more comment at the time, but assures us that a full investigation is currently under way, including an investigation as to exactly what happened to You-Know-Who.

Although the events are not set in stone, it is reasonable to remind you all to raise a cup to baby Harry Potter, the only known survivor of the Killing Curse. We contacted Professor Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin (First Class), Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to hear his thoughts on the matter, however his only response was that "I have many theories as to what caused young Harry Potter to be able to remain living in extraordinary circumstances, and also to defeat [You-Know-Who], but each are as unlikely as the next." Whatever the cause of last night's events it's fair to say that there is cause to celebrate.

To the Boy-Who-Lived!