#everyones dead

NORMLALLLLLLNORMALLLLLL

Normal

NORMALLLL

NORMAL ABOUT ONESHOTS ENDING

Soooooo

OOOOOOOO NORMALLL

Damn thats emotionally traumatizing rough buddy

Remus caught the letter as it fluttered down. The owl that had dropped it flew off, already nearly too far to see. Remus looked down. His bag was getting heavy on his shoulder and all he wanted to do was get home, lie on the couch and see Sirius. He was almost at the door. Sighing, he opened the letter, breaking the red wax seal to do so. It was from the ministry. It looked just like the one they sent when Regulus died. That thought emptied Remus’ head and he fumbled to get the letter open, expecting the worst. Expecting Sirius to be dead.

But it was much, much worse than that.

Mr Remus Lupin,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I am writing to inform you of a newly risen situation. It is within my knowledge that you have just returned from your spying mission at the werewolf camps under my request. We are glad to have you back.

There is much for you to catch up on. You see, last night, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated. The whole Wizarding World is celebrating. Many of his followers are in hiding or are awaiting a trial to be sent to Azkaban. The Order is no longer in action and therefor you have been relieved of your duties. We will arrange a time to properly catch up so as to fill you in on the details. Right now, however, there is a much more pressing matter at hand. I am regrettably about to inform you of some very unfortunate news. You may want to take a seat, Mr Lupin.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, you see, was defeated by none other than the Potters. The details are unclear as of yet, but the bodies of James and Lily Potter were found at the Potter residence late last night. Their son, Harry Potter, was the sole survivor. He has been transported to the care of his only remaining family, his Aunt Petunia Dursley. The Potter’s secret keeper, last recorded as Mr Sirius Black, must have informed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named of the Potters whereabouts. He was taken into ministry custody early this morning after murdering twelve muggles as well as Mr Petter Pettigrew. Only remains of Mr Pettigrew were found at the scene. Sirius Black will be facing a 12 year sentence in Azkaban for his crimes, without trial.

I am very sorry for your losses, Mr Lupin. Please contact me or any of the former order members if you require any assistance. Friends are the most important rock in one’s time of need.

Welcome back, Mr Lupin.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore.

Everything that Remus was, everything that he thought and said and did was no longer there.

He was no one. He was empty. He was gone. James and Pete and Lily were gone. Sirius was a traitor. Remus was no longer there. Because who was he without his friends—his family? Without Sirius?

A sharp sound bounced around his head. He winced as he thought of Sirius. Of every touch, every glance, every laugh. Remus had known Sirius since he was 11. He’d been in love with Sirius since he was 14. Had Sirius been planning this all along? It didn’t make sense. His anger for his parents, for Regulus, for his blood status. It didn’t make sense. Sirius was the spy. All along. It couldn’t have been. It all felt so real.

All the air was knocked out of Remus’ lungs. Lily was dead. James was dead. Pete was dead.

He thought of James’ body, lying on their living room floor, cold. James always had a smirk on his face. His eyes always danced with mischief. Remus couldn’t imagine it. He couldn’t think about James’ eyes glazed over, unyielding, cold. Not when he’d relied on their warmth for so long.

He thought of Lily’s body lying on the carpet, her beautiful hair spread out like a crown, the colour matching the blood draining out of her. Had she bled? Fuck, Remus didn’t even know. He didn’t know how or when or why they died.

That was wrong. He knew why. Sirius.

He thought of Pete’s body. Or lack thereof. Only remains were found at the scene, Dumbledore had written. Remus shuddered at thought. Pete used to bring chocolate back to school after every holiday for all four of them. On the first day back of every term, the boys would stay up all night, talking and eating and laughing. And now Pete could only be classed as remains.

And it was Sirius’ fault.

But it couldn’t be, could it?

All of that—Sirius and Remus—couldn’t have been a lie. Sirius had fought so hard for Remus so many times. They’d spent endless hours in the astronomy tower watching the stars and reveling in being in love, in being part of something, together. They’d graduated together and gotten a flat together and spent Christmas and birthdays and their lives together. It couldn’t have been an act. So what had happened? Maybe it was a lie. Maybe Sirius was a really good actor. He was a Black, after all. Remus couldn’t say he hadn’t been warned.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was still outside the door, his back against it, his knees pulled up to his chest and his lap soaked with tears.

And Harry. With Petunia and her wretched husband. Of all people. Remus laughed.

This letter couldn’t be real.

This letter couldn’t change his life.

It was a piece of parchment and some ink.

And yet it was the key to Remus’ everything.

Remus shook his head. It was a prank. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. So he folded the letter and shoved it in his bag. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and heaved the bag back onto his shoulder. He unlocked the door and stepped inside.