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To live is to remember and to remember is to live. To die is to forget and to forget is to die.
This is what Remus remembers: Sirius stretched out in the sun, James at his side, planning, restless fingers plucking the grass as they talk. Peter looking up at him, through a shock of hair. "I passed Transfigurations. Remus, I passed," and himself "of course you did, Pete." Sirius behind him (and James as always somewhere near Sirius) "'Grats, Peter. Can we get on with our lives now?" and the sound of footsteps walking away, two sets, and Peter looking up at him murmurming "I passed "Remus, Remus, wait till you see -- we have a surprise for you--" Flashes of the moon and running feet and pack-who-isn't-pack, supplemented later by cages and concrete and no one, no one; howling alone. A snitch glinting in the sunlight, in and out of James' grasp. Lily in Prefect Meetings, giggling and smiling at him and later James pushing hair from his face, impatient, "did she say anything about me?" He laughed, "she called you a prat," and James shoved him, "Anything good?" A face, horrified, and James--Prongs--James--the twist of fire in his gut. Waking up in the infirmary, scars on his torso, bandages, and in the pit of his stomach--"Sirius, what have you done?" James at his side, fingers tracing figure eights on the table "He's miserable, Moony. Please, just talk to him, he was stupid, you know how he gets but he didn't think, it was just a prank, a stupid--Moony, please," a hand out, and he flinched, flinched "I could've killed him, James. I could've." Curtains rustling, a harsh whisper "I'm sorry." Rolling over, Sirius sliding in behind him, a tentative arm over his waist, "I'm sorry, Remus." and his own, "I know." "Woo-hoo!" James grabbing Sirius and twirling around, hugging Remus, and they all laughed at him, with him, even Lily, even as she rolled her eyes and said, "well, I'm not going if you're crazy." Graduation, his hands on his diploma, and then it fades, strings out, and he thinks it's stored somewhere else, where he doesn't have to think about it, except for graves and rain and three tombstones, things he wants to lose but refuses to let himself forget. The taste of whiskey on his tongue, a string of jobs, and one day an owl. RonaldWeasleyPeterPettigrew. I'm alright, I won't say where just in case. I'm safe. Pads. A soft whine, scratching on his door. "It's started again." Flashing blue eyes, harsh panting in his ear, the push of Sirius inside him, over him, the drip of sweat on his cheek, "love you, love you," and it doesn't matter if he said it or Sirius did or both or neither, if it was just the bedpost slamming against the wall, he can hear it "love you, love you, love you." A slow fall, Harry in his arms, straining, screaming. First a head disappearing, wild arms, chest, legs. Gone. This is what Remus misses: Lily. Peter. James. Sirius.
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