Remus cradled his head in his rough hands as the tears fell from his eyes. His hair fell and hid his face as he sat on the worn couch in the small living room. Stuffing fell from random tears in the old material.

Ever since last year, he had to move out of the Black House because it was too hard for him. Even here, in his old flat, Remus couldn’t stop the painful memories. It seemed all of his friends were gone. To Remus, Peter was dead, James had been killed years ago, and now Sirius was gone, too.

Remus wiped away the tears as they finally came to a stop. He got up slowly and walked into his bathroom trying not to look at the worn-in yellow tiles on the walls. He turned on the faucet and splashed the cold water on his face. Remus looked into the mirror. His face was worn and lined, and his hair was dull brown with silver streaks from stress. It hung limply almost to his shoulders. Stubble grew on his face making him look even older. His once bright hazel eyes were dull and full of pain.

He let the water drip from his face for a minute or so before he pulled himself away from the mirror and dried his face with a wash cloth. Remus had changed so much since he was a little kid. He had once been the kid hiding in the shadow of his friends. He wasn’t a follower nor was he a leader. Now it didn’t matter, there was no one to lead him, and no one to follow him. His fist clenched as his eyes locked onto the man in the mirror. He couldn’t stand the thought that the worn man in the mirror was his reflection. Is this what being a werewolf did to a man? No, Remus thought answering his own question; this is what losing your life does to a man.

Remus’ thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash. He jumped slightly and quickly pulled at his wand, his fingers clenched around the cool wood. He hastily walked toward the front of the flat and stopped dead when he saw the sight.

His door was blown to pieces and chunks of wood were scattered about the front room. Two cloaked figures stood in his doorway.

“Hello Moony.”

Remus narrowed his eyes, “Wormtail.”

The man beneath the clock smiled, “Nice to see you again.” He looked around the flat, “Nice—er—closet.”

Remus scowled deeply, “Who’s your friend?”

The second figures’ hands reached out from beneath the cloak and let the hood down. “Hello, again, Remus.”

Remus’ heart was beating fast and the blood pounded in his ears, “Bellatrix.” He said with a curt nod.

Her lips stretched into an evil grin.

Remus continued slowly, “What are you doing in my home.” He tried to keep his voice steady as she stared at her.

Bellatrix laughed and he winced slightly, “Oh dear Remus.”

Before he was able to move a muscle she had her wand pulled out and pointed at him. “The Marauders have fallen.”

Remus gripped his wand hard, “Not yet!” His voice was shaky, but his hand was stiff and strong.

Bellatrix laughed, “What are doing? Do you think you will kill me? You’ll go to Azkaban!”

Remus sneered, acidic tears burning in his eyes, “So be it!”

Peter was shaking, but he whipped out his wand, “Avada Kedavra!”

Remus spoke too, “Petrificus Totalus.” It all happened in a second. Bellatrix stepped forward just as Remus’ spell hit her sending her forward, stiff as a board. Right as she fell, a green light shot from Peter’s wand and filled the room.

Remus shielded his eyes, and soon the light was gone. He looked up, amazed he wasn’t dead. He saw Peter with his wand raised and Bellatrix on the ground stiff as a board, and dead.

Remus smiled and Peter stuttered out, “I killed her!”

“Yes.”

”But—Voldemort—! ”

“You don’t have to worry about Voldemort, where you are going.” Remus pointed his wand at Peter and ropes sprung out and twist around Peter and he fell over in a great heap on the ground. His eyes were wild as his skin brushed against Bellatrix’s cold body.

Remus stepped over to him. His eyes were cold as stone and his voice bitter, “Long live the Marauders!”