Disclaimers: Naturally, Harry Potter does not belong to me. All of the information here was taken from book three and book five, The Prisoner of Azkaban and The Order of the Phoenix. If you have not read either than this would probably not be a good thing to read, as it is spoiler ridden. The books are good, all you non believers, read them. This, I think, finally brings out what I've been trying to get from Remus all this time – the knowledge that he is and has been entirely alone. It's a bit repetitive I suppose, but I think the commentary of Prongs and Padfoot through it keeps it alive a bit, whereas a monologue usually slips into needless mumbling uselessness. Or something like that… None of the characters belong to me, none of the books belong to me and none of the money belongs to me, so don't sue me, I won't be able to make you any richer. Now, since we're all done, let's post up my first factual Order of the Phoenix piece, hmm?

Title: Last of the Marauders

Author: CrimsonShinigami, A.k.a. Evil!Remmy

Rating: G, there's not even any swearing in it!

Description: Remus Lupin thinks back on Sirius and prepares to face his new life without him. It's not slashy, surprise, surprise, but you're welcome to take it that way. Spoiler warning is all I've got to say, only the name of the 'veil of death' is made up, since noone told you what it actually was, and the bit about Snape warning Dumbledore about James is non canon too. Oh, and the whole of the first flashback – I have no idea where Remus was when his friends were murdered. But I'm pretty sure the rest of it is canon.

Any notes: Well, I know I don't usually write here, and I haven't finished my last story yet, but I do fully intend to, just I never get round to it. That answers both questions by the way. Anyway, I hope to get some nice reviews. I know you people can write, so don't make me come over there and hunt you. It's not that hard – write an anonymous one if you can't be bothered to log in, just write something. Reviews are like unicorn blood, you know. They're really good and they keep you alive, but without more you just shrivel up and go all snake eyed. *pulls hands about face and tries to look a bit like Voldemort, then drops the façade* Anyway, read and enjoy, even if you are too miserly to write a review. Remember, the Dark Lord is watching you, he will know who reviews and who does not.

Also I would like to note the only other true HP-OotP fiction on fanfiction.net so far. This is The Mirror by The Teenage Angst Brigade. It's a lovely piece of writing and I think it brings out exactly what the mirror should have meant. That bit made me miserable, that if Harry hadn't been so determined not to use what it was that Sirius gave to him then he might actually be alive. *sobs again* Anyway, read that story too. Authentica!

Crucio!

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Remus Lupin was anything but asleep. His eyes were firmly closed, as though somehow, merely by the pretence of being asleep he could simply drift into that state of unconsciousness. He stared resolutely at the back of his eyelids as the thickening moon shone in on the opposite side, preventing him from sleeping even more. With a grunt of discomfort he accepted defeat and let his eyes slide open and fix on the clock almost without his bidding. Six fifteen am, and moon set. He would watch it, he couldn't stop himself watching it if he ever had the chance. If only he'd been asleep though, this icon wouldn't have brought everything back so freshly in his mind. He choked back a sob that threatened to arise in his throat, despite being alone in the house; Sirius' house…where Sirius should be…

The memories couldn't help but overflow him as he lay there, watching the moon descending slowly over the blackened window.

A voice came from beside him, and relaxed at the smooth, guttural authority of it. "Full moon in three days…"

A rush of excitement came over Remus at his friends words, spoken as though they were still in school, and he lifted himself up and leant against the headboard of the bed, continuing to watch the moon.

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs will run the night again," remarked James' clear voice from his other side and Remus smiled slightly and closed his eyes slowly.

 The smile on his lips became wry and forced as tears broke from Remus' eyes and ran down his cheeks. The werewolf let a choking sob and lifted a hand to cover up his eyes. He, Moony, was the only one left. Wormtail had run off to Voldemort, while Padfoot and Prongs were…they were both dead.

Remus choked and lifted a hand to run through his already rapidly greying hair. It was a werewolf attribute, and connected also, to stress.

"Don't cry, Moony. You never cried in front of us," whispered Padfoot, almost soothingly, brushing his fingers through Remus' hair. James merely let out a slight bark of laughter and leered at the sobbing werewolf. "I know you're better than that."

Remus shook his head, forcing them both away, not letting his imagination do this to him. Padfoot and Prongs were dead, they were gone. His fingers tightened on his silver hair and pulled sharply, his head tipping down onto his knees in the action.

He could remember how this was started now…they had been fighting so long, and then the Prophecy was made about Harry, and some time after that Snape repaid both his life debt to James, and the countless debts he owed Lily Evans, for stopping Prongs from hurting him for so long. Well…unless he called her a 'Filthy little mudblood' or course.

"Snivellus…" James crooned in a dangerous tone. He sounded like he would give up everything to taunt him just one more time. Sirius was laughing.

Remus couldn't help but chuckle through his tears and then leant back. The worst memory from that time was the night that he learnt that they were dead. He had made his way to the door only to receive an owl from Dumbledore telling him to stay where he was, and thus he was left alone with his thoughts, which turned disastrous.

All he could think about was how Sirius had betrayed them…how he had killed Lily and James. He couldn't believe it. Something had to be wrong with that, after all, why would Sirius do something like that? But over time, as the whole world rallied up against Sirius, Remus became more settled in his friend's guilt. Everyone was intent on making sure that everyone else knew that they hated him even more than the Lestranges, Barty Crouch Jr. or even Antonin Dolohov. When he heard that Sirius had killed Muggles and Peter, he then knew it wasn't true, for a brief time, before he became unsettled again. Black, after all, was from a very dodgy line of wizards that included many which were at the school. But he had been put into Gryffindor…

"Now don't go thinking that about me, Moony. You know I'm one of the best purebloods there are," Sirius chided, though the tone of his voice was playfully commanding.

James' delighted laughter came from his other side and Remus let a little growl of frustration. "We made him mad, Paddy."

Remus shook his head and dabbed at the tears that were on his face. Sirius was right; he was one of the best purebloods he had ever met. If only he had believed him, maybe things would have been different? But he knew it wasn't a factor. Everything would have happened whether he believed in his friend or not. This grim thought made more tears come.

He had tried his best. He remembered the night, three years ago when he and Sirius had met up for the first time since James' death. It had been one of the best and worst moments of his life. From then on he believed Sirius…

It was vivid; he could remember every detail perfectly.

He had rushed up the stairs to the master bedroom that night, to where Hermione was calling desperately for assistance. He had seen Peter on the map, and Sirius, and he had been momentarily confused, and then…realisation had struck. He found himself looking at his crumpled old friend, pinned beneath Harry, bloodied and in pain, with a wand pointed through a cat to his heart. Naturally he gathered the wands immediately, so that talk could be achieved. He needed to know and seconds later he did. With a simple question Sirius had told him what he needed to know, that the secret keeper was switched at the last second and that Sirius was innocent, and Peter was not dead.

He hadn't been ready for the interrogation that came after, the accusation from Ron, or from Harry and Hermione, whom he had been getting on with so well before. But it didn't matter, he was right, he knew now. Sirius…loyal Sirius was not a traitor.

Remus remembered the overwhelming sense of relief that rushed over him at the knowledge. Sure, Wormtail was a traitor, but half an hour previously he had thought that friend dead and another traitorous, added to the fact that he had already lost James – a loss he still hadn't come to terms with. Now he had someone back, his Sirius, one last Marauder left that he could rely on, that he could speak to and spend time with where before all he had had were two murdered friends and a man that he hadn't even visited in Azkaban.

The grief that came at that thought was horrible. Sirius had spent the best part of his adulthood locked away while he could easily have spent that time with Remus, safe, talking about old times and regretting James' death. He felt awful for Sirius. What his friend had been through was unbelievable, and now he was out he was still not free, he would most likely have to hide for years.

"You got me through it you know," Sirius whispered morosely. "Finding revenge and making sure that you believed me." His tone was different with this, like he was truly hurt.

Remus didn't dare even look up for fear of seeing the pain of Azkaban in Sirius' eyes again. He wasn't wrong about Sirius having to stay inside though. For two years after escaping, Sirius was locked away, trying his best to look after his beloved godson but not being given a chance, or even half a chance to have an effect, or even see him, especially with that awful Umbridge woman. Without her interference Sirius wouldn't be dead.

Remus bit his lip and opened his tear-soaked eyes, peering at the moon as it reached the half way point. Never again would he run with a single Marauder on the night of the full moon. It was foreboding. Part of him desperately wanted to die. There was nothing left to live for…and yet there was. He would live so that he could protect Harry as Sirius could not. He felt almost like it had been passed onto him. So he would live and die protecting Sirius' godson, just as Sirius had done, in memory of him.

The moon had slid further down, effortlessly, and Remus was beginning to find it hard to see over the roof of the building. He let his eyes seal closed again, the final tears pressed out of them as he let himself glide back down into a laying position, peering blearily at the back of his eyelids. The memories that had been keeping him awake earlier came again, sliding to the surface effortlessly as he tried his best to empty his mind.

It had all gone so quickly, and now it was slowed down unbelievably.

Harry had been baited, tricked. Remus didn't believe it, and Sirius knew it was his fault, knew he had to come. They had pushed open the doors together, stepping into the large room and at the scene hadn't even paused for breath before casting their curses and hexes, spells and charms at the offending Death Eaters. It was a life or death battle, and the faster they were incapacitated, the less people would get hurt.

Remus barely remembered most of it – it was all flashed of red and green and shouting…incoherent, desperate shouts. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He remembered Sirius congratulating Harry vaguely, then taking on Bellatrix Lestrange.

His eyes had then fixed on Malfoy as he was blasted back, and Remus was distinctly aware of how furious the man would be to have been blown off his feet by a student; particularly a student named Harry Potter.

Remus had given them time to escape and then – and then Dumbledore had been there. He had followed Dumbledore's route with his own, his eyes fixing on the pair on the dais and he froze. Sirius mocked Bellatrix, left himself open and then…

It took Remus a moment to actually register what had happened, his face dropped and he froze on the spot and then the only thing which broke him from his reverie was the nagging thought: protect Harry, you must not let Harry fall through the veil of Death too.

Despite his own dormant desire to leap through after Sirius, Remus leapt forwards and clutched Harry, pulling him back against his chest and trying to console him, to console himself as his voice cracked. Sirius was gone.

Remus could feel his throat going increasingly dry. Sirius was dead. He pulled Harry away with the intent that should he get him to safety he could perhaps enjoy some alone-time himself.

The world was whizzing by, some organisation occurred and then Lestrange escaped, charging up the stairs and disappearing, only to be followed by Harry and Remus was left to his own thoughts as he joined the clear up party. There was a thick lump of bilge in his throat and his stomach was turning in every direction at once. Sirius was dead – and though he could still keep his feet it was hurting him more than anything else even now, two hours after he had been permitted to slink back up to bed.

"It was painless…" Sirius muttered again, lying weightlessly on the bed beside Remus and closing his eyes as though he would sleep beside his lover. "I'll wait for you though…Prongs, Lily and I will wait for you." Sirius faded away as he finished. He was not a ghost, merely a figment of Remus' imagination, and as his brain slowly shut down, Remus found it was unsupportable.

"Sirius…" he whispered up to the ceiling as his eyes flickered half open, tiredly, to see the last slither of moon disappear past the raggedy suburban horizon "I'll never forget you…"

He drifted off into a lonely, peace-less sleep, his only confidence being that he would never see his friends again, and die a lonely man, whether tomorrow or in forty years time. He would protect Harry for the three more years he needed protecting, and once that was over he would become, once more, a werewolf in a hostile world, with no friends and no favours.

It was assured then that he would never experience happiness ever again and that, not tiredness had set him to sleep – the fact that his soul had reached such an unfathomable low that there was no way of returning from it.

Remus Lupin; the last of the Marauders, had nightmares that night.

- - - - -

Avada Kedavra!