Remus felt humiliated in his leggings and neon green rain jacket as he cycled the empty roads. The old mantra, "A job is just a job," had been his solace after leaving Hogwarts and facing the prejudice of the wizarding world. However, being a 37-year-old bike delivery boy felt like a new low for the wizard.

As he pedaled through the storm, he wondered what his friends would be doing if they were still around. Harry must be 13 or 14 now, he thought absentmindedly. The thought felt wrong to him; he couldn't reconcile the picture of a chubby black-haired baby with a teenage wizard. He imagined James' humiliation at having to sit the boy down for a talk about "girls" and "wizards and their wands" and couldn't help but smile until the crushing grief hit him, and he frowned. Remus was sure a part of him had died that day and now he was fundamentally broken. No, he had been broken since he was bitten as a child. Still, his friendships at Hogwarts had allowed him to place a temporary bandage on his heart until that had been ripped away, leaving him more damaged than before. Remus hadn't even tried to open himself up again as he knew if he let someone in, when they left, he wouldn't survive the pain.

If thinking about James, Lily and Peter was bittersweet but painful, thinking about Sirius was the equivalent to a cruiciatis. How had he not seen the signs of the darkness in him? In retrospect, Remus felt as though it should have been obvious, the dark moods Sirius could switch into, the bullying of Slytherins, and for Merlin's sake, hadn't Sirius attempted to murder Snape at Hogwarts using Remus himself as the weapon. How had he forgiven him for that? How had he ever trusted him again? Remus squashed the traitorous parts of his mind that remembered Sirius' lopsided grin, his quietly generous nature, or the tears he had shed when he realized what he had almost done after that fateful full moon.

The rain lashed against Remus as he cycled, sticking his fringe to his forehead and blurring his vision. He could hardly see through the downpour. He felt detached from his surroundings and barely noticed the approaching car as he sharply turned left onto a side road. Remus felt surprisingly calm when he realized what was happening. He felt himself hit the bonnet of the car. The impact sent him sprawling onto the wet ground, his bicycle thrown away from him. In his haze, he thought, "Perhaps this is how it ends." It felt almost fitting for someone who had been hurt by both worlds to die this way.

But even as Remus embraced the idea of his death, he realized his body was stubborn. He could still feel the cold rain and an ache in his limbs from his hard landing. His desire for death clashed with the uncomfortable reality that he was alive and barely injured. Remus almost laughed as it seemed that the most hated part of himself had saved him once again.