A/N. Hey hey hey! I've returned from the family with a new chapter (w00t!) It's a bit depressing, absaloutley no fun to write. Damn that Voldemort! Damn him!

James Potter had, at age nine, begged his parents to allow him to join the local boy scout group. And though he was thrown out after two weeks, (having being involved in the mysterious hanging of another little boy, from a tree, by his underwear) James had taken their motto of "always be prepared" to heart and so, always tried to prepare himself for any difficult situation which rose.

As he made his way up to Gryffindor tower, ten or so minutes after Sirius, Peter closely behind him, having told Professor McGonagall he'd bring Remus to her office before the hour was finished; he prepared himself for the worst. He prepared to see a distraught Remus or an angry Remus, a crying Remus, perhaps even a crying Sirius. He was not, however, when he entered his dorm prepared to Sirius pushed up against a wall, trousers round his ankles,Remus on his knees in front of him, head bobbing slowly back and forth. Nor was he prepared to see Sirius with his face twisted up in ecstasy, with hands tangled in Remus's hair, muttering and groaning. Feeling rather uncomfortable and with Peter hot on his heels, James slammed the door shut

"Remus... fuck... oh, fuck..." groaned Sirius so loudly, he was heard very clearly outside the room. Peter spoke at double the volume he usually spoke, trying to drown out Sirius's enthusiastic, pre-climactic moans.

"WE'LL GIVE THEM A MOMENT BEFORE WE GO IN"

"SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD IDEA TO ME PETE"

James squirmed uncomfortably and Peter looked like he'd just eaten something very unpleasant. There was another very loud groan from the dorm, followed by another stream of swear words, James and Peter both very quickly jammed their fingers into their ears, Peter began to hum Mary had a Little Lamb, though this did little to drown out Sirius's moans and cries

"SOUNDS LIKE HE'S IN PAIN" Shouted Peter, taking a brief break from his humming

"I VERY MUCH-" There was a bang, a loud groan of

"Rem, I love you... love you so much" broken up by exhausted pants and sighs

"- Doubt that" finished James. He and Peter stared at each other, Peter looking strangely flushed but also very pale at the same time. Peter reached for the door handle, but James grabbed his wrist

"Probably best to knock first mate"

"Right" Peter scowled and knocked

"Just a minute!" called Sirius "Just hang on!" he was considerably flustered "Wait... right... okay, yeah, you can come in now" They entered to find Sirius leant on the wall exactly where he had been, looking extremely flushed. Remus was gargling (mouthwash, presumably) in the bathroom. He exited, his face frighteningly lacking any kind of expression, his voice, exactly the same

"What?" he asked lazily as he perched himself on the end of Sirius's bed

"We were just wondering if..." James was going to say if you were alright. But evidently, he was. James shook his head, dumb founded by Remus's behavior. He stood for a moment before snapping "Right! What the fuck is going on?" Sirius shrugged. Remus rolled his eyes

"I think James is confused by how I'm reacting to my father's death. To which my answer is: I'm feeling strangely hollow... But not sad... more numb than anything. I assume you were expecting tears"

"well... yeah... I... uh" James faltered

"They haven't come yet. They might... I don't know. I just feel really... weird" Said Remus, still completely emotionless "it's quite difficult to deal with so, for the time being. I'm not going to"

"okay..." said James quietly

"What's wrong with Peter?" asked Sirius "He's got a funny look on his face" James turned around. Peter was still scowling, his lip was curled

"Oh... dunno" said James quietly. "McGonagall wants to see you Moony" Remus sighed "Oh, and she said to pack... 'cos you've got to meet your mum in Hogsmeade soon"

*

Remus stood in Hogsmeade station, McGonagall standing with him. She had, when they first left the castle, made an attempt at trying to speak to him, ask him how he was feeling and so on, but she had quickly realised that there was no point. Remus had felt his usual air of politeness wain, and he couldn't be bothered to humour the old woman by answering her.

With a loud crack Remus's mother appeared in the station, the peircing blue of her eyes highlighted by the now red and swollen, whites of her eyes. It looked like she may have made an effort to straighten herself up before she came to collect Remus, but she was looking noticably dishevelled. Her long curly hair was unbrushed and frizzy, her usually obsesively clean and pressed clothes were creased and marked and her shoes were scuffed and dirty. The necklace that she had recieved from his dad at christmas hung elegantly on her neck bright and sparkling, the only clean thing on her. She opened her mouth, an attempt to speak resulted only in a strange thick squeaking sound

"Mum?" said Remus concernedly, never having seen her insuch a state. She squeaked again, and took Remus's arm. She began to speak, very shrilly and shakily

"Thank you, Professor" could just about be decifered

"My condolances Mrs. Lupin. It is a terrible loss. John was a very talented boy... such a shame" said McGonagall in a softer voice he'd ever heard her use, she acctually sounded quite tearful. His Mum squeaked again, just audible

"Thank you... were... one of his favourite teachers... shame... shame" she kept muttering shame very quietly before pulling Remus closer to her. "Thank you... good b-b-bye" she said. McGonagall gave a pitying half smile and half wave. Soon Remus felt the unpleasant crushing sickly feeling that side along apparation always gave him, and he was standing in his front garden. He took his bag from his shoulder and walked toward the door, his mother scurrying by him to open it. She shuffled into the house. The living room was still as clean and sterile looking as Remus remembered it. She sat on the sofa and put her head in her hands and immeadeatly began to wail, making possibly the loudest noise she's made in months.

"Mum... I..." Remus suddenly had a new sympathy for Sirius "I... do you want a cup of tea?" she nodded, an "mmhmm" just understandable through her sobs. Remus walked into their kitchen, his hands almost immeadiatly begining to shake again. That strange numb feeling that was overwhelming him almost moments ago was now quickly fading and being replaced with a crippling realisation.

He wouldn't be there to look embarressed or uncomfortable, he wouldn't be there to force awkward conversation out of, he wouldn't be there for his Mum to wind up, he would be there to care too much about the post office, he wouldn't be there to... well... he just wouldn't be there anymore. Remus forgot why he was in the kitchen, he forgot about his mother.

His vital organs had all suddenly crashed together inside him. His throat was expanding, lumped and aching. His legs shook so violently he fell back against the wall, which he soon slid down. He burried his face in his knees. His eyes stung. Reality seemed to be crashing down on him all at once. He had said "he's dead" very casually back at Hogwarts, the word's true meaning never quite resinating with him till just a moment a go. It hadn't felt real at all, but now, with the sight of his mother and the sound of her grief, it suddenly felt very real. Painfully real.

*

On Thursday afternoon, after the funeral, Remus sat in his living room, looking very drawn and thin in his too big, black dress robes. Assorted relatives and family friends were standing in small groups around the living room, wondering when it would be appropriate to suggest some one break out the alcohol. His Mum, who hadn't really stopped crying and after the funeral was promptly whisked upstairs by her older sister, his aunt Sylvia. A woman whom Remus quite enthusiastically despised. Unlike his mother, she was loud, dominating and so unnecessarily critical that she was disliked by about eighty percent of the people she came into any sort of contact with (the other twenty percent were made up of men she'd slept with, not including her husband, and Remus's mum and their parents). He'd hated her since his seventh birthday party, the full moon a day away, he was ill and frightened. The woman had him cuffed him round the head when he began crying, and told him not to be so ungreatful.

Remus had spent the entire day on his sofa clutching his stomach because he hadn't quite lost that awful feeling of realisation that had churned his insides so. He was constantly approached by distant relatives and people he'd never met who gave him patronsing advice, sympathetic head tilts and comforting hands on shoulders.

"Remus?" said a familiar voice, which belonged to the dreaded husband of the dreaded Aunt Sylvia. Uncle Nick. A man so chipper and smug and unashamedly posh, it was difficult to look at him without wanting to hurt him

"Oh... hey Nick"

"You're not looking very well" he said sadly, but still somehow, chipperly. Remus did not dignify this with a verbal response, but with a look that said: my dad just died, you twat. Nick gawped "Well... I suppose... that's for – for obvious reasons. You don't look that bad really."

"Right... thanks Nick" Nick sat down next to him on the sofa, shaking his head, putting his arm round Remus

"Good man, your dad"

"I know"

"You must be so sad... so angry"

"yeah..."

"But you know, that Voldemort" Remus felt a slight twinge in his already twisted aching insides "they'll catch him soon enough"

"The Prophet reckons he's built up an army"

"Nah, sensationalism. But you're alright aren't you Remus?"

"As alright as I'm going to be"

"You weren't crying during the funeral"

"Nope" Remus rolled his eyes, sensing where this was going

"it's okay to cry you know"

"I know"

"No one will think any less of you"

"I know"

"Do you want to cry?"

"No..."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep... I'm" Remus shrugged Nick's arm away "I'm going upstairs to see my mum"

"Okay Remus, just remember-"

"- it's okay to cry... I know" Remus ran from the living room, up the stairs, all the while clutching his stomach. He did wonder why he hadn't cried yet, but he didn't let it bother him. He approachd his mother's room, knocking softly on the door.

"Mum?"

"Come in" answered not his mother's soft whisper, but Aunt Sylvia's nasel, inadvertant half-snap. Remus opened the door and entered the room. His mother was sat cross legged on her bed, surrounded by used tissues, Sylvia was leant against the wall, lit cigarette dangling from her crimson painted lips. Sylvia didn't look much like his mother, she had a bigger nose, thinner lips and narrow, almond shaped, muddy brown eyes. She had the same curly black hair, but hers had, many years ago, been bleached blonde, cut into a severe bob and had had all the life straightened out of it (Remus had sneaking suspicion that they have different fathers).

"Hi Remus" said his mum, even quieter than usual. Her tear flow had stopped for the first time and she was staring blankly downward, thumbing her necklace "Are you alright, sweet heart?"

"Not really" he said, closing the door behind him "you've stopped crying"

"mmhmm... I'm just feeling a bit..."

"Numb?" suggested Remus, she looked a bit like he must have yesterday

"Yes, that's it" she looked up, her face dry, her eyes still red and swollen. She looked so drawn and tiny, almost like a little girl. "I think... I think I should do something to take my mind off of it"

"Exactly what I've been suggesting for the last two hours" said Sylvia sniffily "Go down stairs and have a drink. God knows the people down stairs have been waiting for you to tell them it's alright to get pissed"

"You're right Sylvia" she stood, a small fall of tissues cascading to the floor as she got up "Being an awful hostess" she shuffled from the room

"So" said Sylvia, scrutenising Remus, with the muddy narrow eyes "You could've worn a tidier set of robes"

"I don't own a tidier set of robes"

"Oh... what a surprise" she rolled her eyes. She'd always held significant contempt for Remus's father, simply because he never made much money "I'd better get down stairs and control my loser of a husband. No doubt he'll drink as much as he can, come home and vomit on our furniture if I don't" she scowled, conjured an ashtray, extinguished her cigarette in and bumped past Remus, who's stomach still ached, he wished he knew where his mum kept the pain killing potions.

*

Rhea Lupin, rarely drunk. As a small woman she could never really hold her alcohol, and had always been a light weight. After two hours of uncharacteristically heavy drinking, discouraged by her son but, to his irritation, encouraged by her older sister, she was completely and utterly smashed. When the sun finnally set, a work friend of her husband's sheepishly entered the kitchen, where Rhea, Sylvia and Remus were sat round the table. Remus glaring at Sylvia as she shoved another glass of firewhisky into her sister's tiny trembling hand.

"Rhea, Remus?"

"yes?" they both answered

"I'm Holly, Holly Blake. I worked-"

"- at the post office, I know. John mentioned you once or twice" she slurred

"I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am... he was a relly sweet man... really lovely. I..." Holly's lip wobbled "I... I want to apologise as well... I... the Auror office... I didn't..." a tear rolled down her face "I wanted to find a fireplace as quickly as possible... and I... I... wasn't thinking" She sniffed and raised her hand, obscuring her eyes "Could've had them there so much quicker... I'm so sorry" more tears were falling. Remus looked over at his mum, her lip was now wobbling as well

"It's not your fault... don't get upset"

"I'm sorry I really am... so sorry" she snorted tears falling faster. Rhea stumbled up from her seat, and walked sloppily over to the crying woman

"Don't cry... because... becuase if you cry then... then" but it was too late she had already burst into tears again, Sylvia stood up

"Alright, thank you, apology accepted" She ushered Holly back into the living room. Where people were all looking a tad too merry for a funeral. Remus got up from the table, to tend to his wailing mother. He put his arms round her and guided her back to her chair, frowing at himself as he pushed the glass of whisky back into her grip. As he left the room, assuring his mum he'd be back in a moment, to get her the box of tissues, Sylvia was standing in the middle of the Living room, telling the guest's it was time they all left. For the first time all evening Remus agreed with her.

The guest filed out slowly, popping their head round the kitchen door to offer a miserable, tissue brandishing Remus and inconsolable Rhea their last condolances. After a moment, Sylvia reentered, snapping at her husband

"Nick you stay in the living room, you only ever make things worse! You still crying, love?"

"Yes" she answered shakily

"I thought you were feeling better as well. Oh well. I'm going to leave now, because Nick's pissed. Moron. I'll be back tommorow" Sylvia gave her sister a kiss on the cheek and left the room.

Remus had no idea what to do now. Not being able to think of anything to say, he sat quietly holding the box of tissues.

"I'm so sorry Remus" she said thickly and jerkily

"Sorry for what?" he asked sadly

"Sorry for – for not being strong for you. For c-c-crying so m-m-much"

"Mum... it's alright. I don't mind"

"No, it's not alright. You p-probably already feel like shit and – and me crying is probably only making it" she inhaled squeakily "Worse for you"

"No... no.. it's not" he lied

"Whatever you s-say, I'm still sorry"

"alright."

"You know something sweet heart" she slurred, grabbing the bottle over fire whisky and tipping what was left into her glass

"what is it mum?"

"You are the only person I love that isn't dead"

"Alright..." he said uncomfortably, really not liking where he could sense this conversation going

"My parents are dead. Every single pet I had, dead. My best friends, the Robinson's, do you remember them?"

"Vaguely... when did they die?"

"'71... really funny looking murder as well. Probably fucking Voldemort as well, now I think about it... and Your brother, Romulus dies... you were a twin you know"

"I had no idea" Remus dropped the box of tissues. Why hadn't anyone mentioned this to him before?

"I never told you... your dad told me not to... Because you know I had you premature. Two month premature. You were so tiny... so was Romulus... you were so much stronger than he was and he... he died after a few days. You've always been so strong sweet heart" tears cascading faster than ever down her cheeks

"Thanks mum"

"Just like when you were bitten. We were positive we were going to lose you. He.. he bit you right on the neck... and when they told us the statistics for survival of child victims of werewolf bite and child werewolves. Your dad cried" she let out a weird little snuffle, tears still falling hard and fast "it's the only time I've ever seen him cry. I was a wreck after Romulus... but he held me together, reminded me I still had you... but I when you got bitten he was worse than I was. Much worse. But I suppose, with good reason..." her eyes looked glazed beneath the tears, her speach was more slurred than ever, she tailed off. "But anyway... you're the only person in the world I love Remus... and I do love you... so so much" she broke off into sobs again.