One by one, each of them had fallen. One by one, each of them had parted ways. And thus, one by one, they all reunite.

James was first.

Sirius was second.

Peter was third.

Remus was last.

There had been four.

And then there had been none.


James thought of Lily. He thought of Harry. He thought of Sirius.

Of all of the people who would have betrayed him, Sirius would not be the man to do so. He was loyal, he was trustworthy, he was his secret keeper.

He was his best friend.

James wasn't confused. He could see the billowing of an intimidating cloak on the path of front porch, but he wasn't afraid. He was just perplexed and puzzled.

Something went wrong with the plan. Something had happened, and someone had spilled on him. Someone had decided to turn him into the Darkest of all Lords. Who would do something like this to him?

He was not livid or angry or irritated. He just wanted to know who the fuck was responsible for this.

James wasn't going to go without a fight.

He screamed into the other room, seemingly in slow motion to him, for Lily to run and leave with Harry. He knew he was going to die. But he was going to die in sacrifice of someone he loved. For all he knew, that was fine.

He didn't even kiss Lily. He didn't even hug her. He knew that when he died, he was going to miss her, but it'll keep him sane knowing that her and Harry are safe and happy.

With that somewhat sweet thought, James give a prepared sigh and holds his wand readily at the door.

It blasts into splinters and out of the way.

They argue. They fight.

It seems over too soon, and then James is dead.

He did it for Lily and Harry.

And then there were three.


Sirius had not seen it coming.

He blamed himself, but he could no longer apologize to those he loved. He wanted to apologize to Dumbledore; to the Order, because he wasn't a part of them anymore. He wanted to apologize to Harry, because he had failed his job of a Godfather. He wanted to apologize to Remus, because he hadn't been able to say goodbye. He hadn't been able to end the things that definitely weren't finished yet in a proper way.

Now it was all over.

The last thing he saw, time had stopped to his eyes and to his heart and to his mind, and the last thing he remembered was Bellatrix, Harry, and Remus.

He wasn't done yet, but apparently life was finished with him. He had reached the end of the toilet paper roll.

He had died to save Harry and his friends, to keep them alive in the Department of Mysteries. He felt as though it was his obligation to make sure that his Godson didn't die cruelly at the hands of Death Eaters. He had done his job, but he hadn't been able to see the result.

He prayed for Remus to be able to get Harry to safety.

Oh, Remus.

He prayed for Remus not to mourn the loss of the last grip at family he had. Remus and him were special friends.

This would be hard for both of them.

He was very sorry.

Sirius had done it for Harry. He had died to keep him protected.

And then there were two.


Peter regretted a lot of things he had done.

He was not a strong man. He lived only for others, only with others. He was dependent and he wasn't powerful. He needed others for the safety of his own.

He thought he would get that and so much more when he betrayed the only friends he ever had for Voldemort.

He had gotten so much less.

But now was not the time for remorse and resentment. He was dying by his own hand, his own souvenir of his bad decisions and bad groups he had joined. It was only natural that it was the subject of his death after all.

He had shown mercy for Harry. He still owed him. He still owed James. He owed all of them. Just as James would have done, Harry had shown him his life when others were going to take it away. It was only fair that Peter ultimately gave back to his friends what he had taken away.

Peter hoped that when he died, his friends would give him another chance.

Peter had died for Harry. For Harry's life. For James' son. For opposing the betrayal.

And then there was one.


It had happened too fast. Antonin Dolohov had aimed his wand at Remus' chest and that had been it. It was fast and it was painless, and Remus was proud that he died in battle. He died for the sacrifice for others.

He had lived a long life. He was a werewolf, but that had never stopped him. His frailness, his weakness, they were because of his scars. And his scars proved his courage.

He had fallen in love. He had finished school. He had dealt with troubles that weren't in his league of thinking and gotten over a death of a loved one.

He was a strong man.

Tonks and him were married, but Remus knew that it was all over the moment that the curse from Dolohov's wand had hit his chest. Till Death Do Us Part was the phrase, and quite frankly, this was death.

Remus was done with playing around with someone's feelings. He was done with playing around in general.

Now that he was gone, he had time to do whatever he needed to do, and he knew what that was going to be.

He had died for the war. He had died for Harry.

And then there were none.


James had fallen first. It had been an unorthodox and emptying feeling. As if all of James' blood was pouring from his body to the nonexistent floor beneath him and all of his limbs lifeless. He was falling, farther, farther –

With an unceremonious oomph! from him, the falling had abruptly stopped with no warning whatsoever, no alert of flashing neon lights, James simply fell face-first onto the floor of some sort of unknown abyss.

It was vast and fairly empty. He didn't know too many of the old wizards and witches trotting around the area.

Where was he?

He knew, however, when Lily had joined him a second later with a shriek and a flash of red hair.

James had swallowed.

"Where… where's Harry?"

And then there was one.


It had been better when Sirius had landed. Although it was unexpected, he had figured out eventually what was going on.

Who knew how long it would be until Remus would land, but there was James.

They were slowly getting themselves back together.

Sirius blamed Peter for all of this.

But still the Marauders would be back, with the exception of one certain rat.

Sirius would kill to see the day that Bellatrix Lestrange would land here.

He had fallen, ungracefully and inelegantly, into a colossal area that would be questioned later. He scrambled up from the floor, meticulously clean.

He set out to find James, and to first of all, apologize for no longer fulfilling his job as Godfather.

And then there were two.


Peter had been next.

The fall was similar to a slippery bar of soap slipping from wet hands. It was sloppy and awkward and involved shrieks and flailing. Peter landed on stomach when he fell, along with a whiny groan.

Staggering up with difficulty, Peter dusted off the dirt he had accumulated before stroking his neck fondly. The silver hand was still, much appreciated to the brittle-haired man.

He would find his friends later.

Right now he was still too weak of a man.

And then there were three.


Remus was last.

He fell with timing, but not with grace. When he plummeted into the darkness of a seemingly never-ending void, Remus gulped in the back of his throat. What the hell was going on?

Always logical, Remus was confused. He had died. Straight in the chest, peacefully, too –

He was just considering this fact when he felt his back roughly connect with a clap to a grim floor. Screaming, Remus got up gingerly and rubbed at his back.

"Moony, is it really you?"

He whirled around, somewhat glad that he was not alone in this Pit of Doom.

"S-Sirius?" he repeated breathlessly, standing up. The man swept him into a tight embrace with Remus returned shakily. He examined his hands, trembling.

"Am – am I alive?" he asked unsurely.

"Welcome, Remus, to Death's Place." A familiar voice said dramatically from behind Sirius. Remus whipped his head over to see James standing smugly nearby.

"I – bloody hell," Remus whispered, his hand moving to cover his mouth, "All of them are here?"

Sirius nodded, but not before wrapping his arms around the other man again.

"I'm so glad you're dead," he breathed, laughing, "I've missed you so much," he said with a fierce kiss against the other man's unsuspecting mouth. "I love you."

Remus grinned like he never grinned at Tonks when they were married, and it felt so much better to be actually meaning the smile, "I love you too," Remus said, "So we're – we're all here? Even Peter?" Remus asked when they pulled apart. Sirius grimaced.

"He's here," he said bitterly, "we don't talk to him."

"I thought so." Remus said.

"There's enough room to hide in this place. It's huge, Moony."

Remus nodded, examining the area. "So – time doesn't pass here, does it?"

James shook his head. "This is Death, Moony. We are not living, therefore time does not pass."

"Pretty fucking awesome, right?" Sirius said with a dazzling smile.

Remus nodded, pulling both Sirius and James into a tight hug. "We're all back."

And then there were four.

AN: This was just to write a small, short little piece using DH. Just to see them reunited is all I really wanted. I wanted to cry when writing the first part, when they're all dying (for Harry, have you realized? they're all dying for Harry :D) but I was satisfied with the somewhat happy ending. Sorry if you're Peter Lovers. XD Love to you all!