For Liza via GGE.

I will probably continue this with different perspectives set in the same universe. Only time will tell.

Note: I took some liberty with ages to make things fit better. Go with it. Please?

I.

"Health officials have placed the Riddle Virus on the watch list. It has claimed twenty victims this week, bringing the death toll to ninety-seven in a two week period," the reporter announces grimly. "Our sources have confirmed that it is evolving at a rapid rate."

Remus shudders. His father changes the channel.

"With over fifty confirmed cases of the Riddle Virus in the United Kingdom alone, everyone has one question," a second reporter says. "Where is the cure?"

Another channel, another reporter. More statistics, more fear, more questions with no answers.

"Perhaps we shouldn't watch," Lyall says quietly, and the screen goes black.

"They'll find a cure, won't they?" Remus asks.

He waits for his father to assure him, the way he's always done, to tell him that everything will be fine, and they'll be okay. But his father's lips press into a thin, hard line, and Remus realizes that, at sixteen, he is too old for childish promises.

His mother kisses his forehead. "There's little we can do, my love," she says gently. "If they can't find a cure, all we can do is pray."

Remus doesn't know what prayer could do to help the situation. If it worked, then the stupid virus wouldn't spread in the first place. It would have been prayed away the moment Benjy Fenwick, the first victim, coughed up blood. But he doesn't say this. If his mother wants to have faith, she's welcome to it, but Remus has outgrown that fairytale.

…

"School is canceled," his father tells him as Remus places his books in a neat pile.

"For how long?"

His father shakes head. "Until further notice is all anyone says."

Remus frowns, sitting on his bed. It isn't as though school is his favorite place, but it feels weird not to go. He feels his sense of normalcy begin to fray.

…

Remus sees the first armed man walk down his street. He shies away from the window, his heart racing.

"Dad! There's a man with a gun out there!" he reports urgently, wringing his hands together nervously.

His father walks to the window. His face is hard again. Remus wishes he would smile. If his father would smile, then maybe Remus could find hope again. "The news has been talking about other countries and their military taking action," he says, letting the curtain drop as he pulls away from the window. "I never thought it'd make it here."

"What's it mean?" Remus asks.

"It means that there isn't much hope left," his father sighs, massaging his temples. "A month, and they're no closer to a cure or even figuring out what they're supposed to be curing. People are dying left and right. If they can't cure the sick-"

A gunshot rings through the quiet night air. Remus darts to the window. "Remus, don't look!"

But it's too late. Remus stares in horror at the old woman on the street, blood pooling around her frail body. The room seems to spin, and Remus collapses, everything growing black.

…

It surprises him how quickly he gets used to the noise. Once their home was free from all chaos that big cities have. Now, coughing and gunshots break through the quiet.

But Remus adjusts. He carries on, waiting for it to settle down again.

...

There are fewer armed men, only six now. Only a week ago, Remus had counted two dozen on his street. Over the seven days, he had watched four collapse. Those same four had received bullets in their heads. He can only imagine what's happened to the rest.

"They can't do that, can they?" Remus asks. "It's murder."

His mother strokes his hair, humming a lullaby.

"These are dark times, son," his father says. "The old laws don't apply anymore."

…

"Wales is in anarchy," the reporter announces. "The infected have greatly outnumbered the healthy. Guardians are being pulled before the infection can take away more of their numbers."

They've long since given up trying to find anything on other than the news. Only one channel remains; only three reporters still live.

"Our sources tell us that-"

His sentence dies as a violent cough racks his body. Remus watches as bright blood splatters across the desk. "Oh God. Oh God, no. I'm not sick! I'm not-"

Lyall switches the television off, but not before Remus hears the heavy footsteps on the screen.

…

Remus tries to remember what life was like only two months ago, before the Riddle Virus took over. It shouldn't be hard, but all he sees when he closes his eyes are armed men, bodies lying in blood, people he's known his whole life coughing up bits of their lungs.

His father doesn't speak much anymore, not since the news stopped, not since the armed men disappeared completely.

His mother spends most of her days locked away, kneeling in prayer, grasping her rosary like it will offer them salvation.

…

A car alarm pierces the night air. Remus is sure that he hears glass shatter and voices cry out.

He covers his face with his pillow, laying perfectly still, hoping that whoever is out there won't come for his family.

…

His father goes first. Remus had thought that with everything he's seen, he would have become immune to the gore, he would have stopped feeling anything.

But he watches his father fade away in only two days. It isn't a pretty death. Blood everywhere. Bits of organs still caught between his teeth.

Remus buries him in the back yard. No one prays for him. No friends share stories of their past, of the days before hell broke out. The only sounds that pierce the air are distant coughs and screams, glass breaking, and the world falling apart.

…

His mother lasts one day before the coughing starts. She forbids Remus from entering her room. He doesn't mind, at first. He can't stand the thought of seeing her die the way his father did. Perhaps he's a coward for that.

She dies quicker, and Remus can't help but to feel grateful. She only suffers a day before the noise dies behind the door.

Remus steels himself before entering. He wishes he could close his eyes. He wishes this could all be some nightmare. But he's abandoned all hope that he'll wake.

He knows he should bury her right away, but he feels his world shatter. Suddenly, he is a little boy again. He curls up beside her, trying to ignore her blood that slicks his body.

Her rosary is still clasped tightly in her hand. Remus pulls it loose, his tears falling freely as he places the rosary around his neck.

He isn't sure that there's a God anymore, not if God could just take his mother like that. But it doesn't matter how broken his faith his. It's all that he has left of her.

…

He buries her beside his father and returns to the house. He washes away the blood with bottled water, careful not to use too much. He can't risk dehydration when the stores have long since been closed and looted.

"It won't be long," he assures himself. "I'll get sick soon, and it won't matter anymore."

He grabs a grabs a can of pears and the can opener and retreats to his room, waiting for the coughing to start.

…

A day passes. Then another. Remus marks them each on his calendar, amazed as days turn to weeks.

He's still alive. He doesn't know how or why he has been spared, but he's still perfectly healthy.

Remus goes to his window. The world beyond is hardly recognizable now. The streets are empty except for broken glass and bodies. Remus wonders when the constant sound of chaos vanished. He's spent so much time sleeping that everything blurs together.

Panic grips him as he pulls away. Now that he thinks about it, the silence is unnerving. The noise might have scared him, but it's been a constant reminder that he's not alone.

Now, he's not so sure. Now, he's afraid that he might be the only person left.

Remus grips his mother's rosary and closes his eyes. He doesn't pray. He only hopes.

…

Another week passes before he decides that it's time to explore. It's inevitable that he'll run out of resources. If he prepares now, he might stand a chance.

Remus wraps a bandana around his mouth, though he knows it will do little to protect him from the stench of decay. He grabs his bag and a knife before stepping outside for the first time in what feels like forever.

Within an hour, he collects enough food and water to last a week, and he's seen enough dead bodies to last a hundred lifetimes. He starts back for his house, freezing when he hears the crunch of glass behind him.

"Got a live one, boys!" someone shouts, laughing like he's told some great joke.

"Won't be alive for long."

Remus feels his stomach turn to ice. He fears that he might throw up. He keeps his eyes fixed forward, trying to steady his breathing, too afraid to turn around.

Perhaps they can be reasoned with. He could chat with them, explain his situation, and they could work together.

"This is Death Eater territory, little boy!" a third voice, feminine this time, cackles.

Remus swallows dryly, about to turn around when he hears the gunshot. He waits for the explosion of pain, the flowing of blood.

"You're a shit shot, Rod!" someone yells.

"Useless!" the girl screams. "Absolutely useless! Give me the damn thing."

"Get your own, Bella! There's plenty back home."

"You little-"

Remus doesn't stick around long enough to hear how the argument turns out. He runs as fast as his feet will carry him.

"He's getting away! Shoot him, you idiot!"

He doesn't return home. They're watching, and if they're willing to shoot him, Remus has no doubts that they wouldn't care about breaking and entering.

He runs until his legs ache and burn before he dares to slow down. He's put enough distance between himself and the gang. At least, he hopes he has. They've shown no signs of following him.

His legs threaten to give out, but he carries on, only pausing for water and a few bites of jerky.

II.

Remus checks the paper he's salvaged. He's been at this camp long enough. Five days is the limit. Any longer, and he's asking for trouble, a lesson he learned after a week's stay at his sixth camp when a man tried to stab him over a handful of berries.

Remus gathers his supplies, marveling at how strong his arms and shoulders have become. The bag no longer feels heavy as it once had. He no longer grows tired within hours of carrying it.

He doesn't know where he's heading anymore. Nowhere seems safe. He's passed through town after town over the past few weeks, and he's found nothing but corpses, graves, and hostile survivors.

He wonders if he'll ever find a place to call home. Each day that passes, it seems less and less likely.

Remus casts one final glance at his thirteenth camp before carrying on with no direction.

…

He kneels beside the stream, painfully aware of how dry his throat has become. Remus drinks greedily before filling his bottle and washing away the worst of the dirt and sweat.

He thinks that he misses showers the most. He's almost forgotten what hot water feels like against his skin.

Winter is quickly approaching. The days feel cooler. His rinses become shorter, unable to handle the chills that follow. He wonders how he will survive the snow. If he's lucky, he can find an isolated cabin somewhere and hunker down for the cold season. But luck hasn't been on his side yet.

A twig snaps behind him, and he hears footsteps too heavy to belong to an animal. Remus turns quickly, his knife drawn, but when he sees the two boys around his age, both armed with knives and clubs, he doesn't like his chances of walking away from this encounter.

"You, sir, have been graced with a visit from the Marauders," the first, a tall, slender boy with a mess of dark hair and crooked glasses on his face, chimes.

The second boy, short and pudgy with thin, sandy hair snorts. "Graced? I'd hardly call it that, James," he says.

"It sounds nicer than 'You're about to be robbed and killed by the Marauders'," James says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Manners are still important, and it's rude to scare people, Peter."

"I don't want any trouble," Remus tells them, a lump in his throat. He curses himself for not keeping an eye on the new place, for not checking it thoroughly before quenching his thirst. "Just leave me alone."

Peter shakes his head. "Sorry, but we can't. We need all the supplies we can get if we're ever going to reach the sea."

Remus tips his head to the side. "What's at the sea?"

"Nothing that concerns you. Dead people don't travel," James says, glaring at Peter. "Now, if you could just hold still. I've never actually killed anyone, and a struggle is too much of a hassle."

Remus tenses, ready for a fight, when a third boy with shaggy black hair and stormy grey eyes joins the others. "And our new friend won't be your first kill," he says, and Remus is surprised when the two lower their weapons. "Have you been on your own this whole time?"

Remus considers lying, telling them that he has a party, that they're asking for trouble if they mess with him. But there's a sort of knowing in the third boy's eyes, and Remus is certain that he already knows the truth. "Yes."

The boy pulls out Remus' paper for counting the days. "A sort of calendar, I'm guessing. Each day you've been out. Smart idea, by the way."

Remus nods.

"So, he has a piece of paper," James says. "Big deal, Sirius."

"Look at the number of marks. He's survived out here on his own all this time," Sirius says impatiently, practically shoving the paper under James' nose. "He's thin, but he isn't malnourished. There was a cooked rabbit in his pack, so let's assume he knows how to hunt."

Remus steps back nervously. He isn't sure where this is going, but Sirius eyes him like a prize. "If I could just get my things, I'll be gone," he offers. "You can have this camp."

"You won't be going anywhere," Sirius says. "You could be useful. What's your name?"

"Remus," he answers.

"Well, Remus. Welcome to the Marauders."

…

"There's a town by the sea," Peter tells him excitedly. "They say it's the last safe place out here. Small town, funny name. But it's safe. Survivors are supposed to be flocking to it."

Remus frowns. He's heard of towns like that. He's visited three. Two had been empty. The other had lead him to an ambush and another close brush with death. But he doesn't tell them this. If they're this hopeful, then he doubts he could change their minds.

"Maybe they've got the power going there," James says. "I miss lights."

"And hot water," Sirius agrees.

…

Remus adds another mark to the page. He's added ten since meeting the Marauders. The air has a permanent chill now, and the leaves begin to fall from the trees.

"What will we do during the winter?" Remus asks.

"We're hoping to reach the sea before then," Sirius answers.

"You don't have a plan?"

"I never have a plan. Plans are boring. Winging things is more my style," Sirius says.

"The days are getting colder. It won't be long before the first snow hits. If we're out here in it, we're dead. There's no way we can reach the sea in time," Remus argues.

Sirius considers this for a moment. "You're the brains," he says. "You figure something out."

…

The campsite makes Remus believe in miracles again. He and the others make quick work scouting the place for enemies. Finding none, they gather the few dead bodies and burn them.

"We don't have much time left," Remus says. "Once the snow falls, we can still hunt, but game will be scarce."

James and Peter look to Sirius. He nods. "This was Remus' idea. It'd be best to listen to him."

…

Sirius brings two rabbits and a bird to the cabin they're using for food storage. "James and Peter will have to prepare it, but at least it's a little extra food," he says.

Remus nods, taking inventory. It's mostly meat they've collected. In one of the desks, Remus has stored the wild fruit he's dried out. The pantry holds the few canned goods they've found in the other cabins that haven't expired.

"If we ration, it should get us through the winter," Remus says. "Meals won't be much, but we shouldn't starve. In theory."

"I don't like theories," Sirius says, frowning.

"It's the best I've got," Remus says. "I'm not a psychic. I can't just gaze into a crystal ball and tell you if we're going to die of starvation!"

Sirius' lips quirk into a smile. "For someone so quiet, you've got a lot fight in you. I like that," he says before turning and leaving Remus alone with their storage.

…

It amazes Remus how quickly they fall into a routine. The four of them take turns patrolling the camp in groups of two, breaking for meals which they take turns preparing. They share a cabin and split duties to keep it in good shape. Somehow, life moves on.

Remus can't remember the last time everything has felt so normal. He almost forgets what the word even means. It doesn't seem to have a place in this new world, and yet there it is.

…

"Fuck, it's cold," Sirius complains as they pause for water.

"It's winter, Sirius," Remus says dryly, earning a dark look from the other boy. "It always gets cold."

Sirius waves a dismissive hand. "Yeah, yeah, smart ass," he laughs. "Thanks."

Remus laughs. It's hard to believe that he can still do that. "No problem," he says before leading the way. "Always glad to offer my services."

It's impossible to believe that not too long ago, two of their party had been ready to kill Remus. Now, they've become his new family.

Remus touches a hand to the rosary that still hangs from his neck. His mother would tell him that God is guiding him. Remus doesn't know if he could believe that, but it's a nice thought.

"You never take that off," Sirius notes. "Religious?"

"My mum was. It was hers," he explained. "It's all I have left after…"

Sirius nods, his lips a thin line. "My mother was a bitch," he says. "My father was worse. I wasn't sad to see them go. My brother was out of town, visiting our cousin, when our city was closed off. I don't even know if he's alive. I keep hoping, but it seems impossible."

Remus reaches out, taking Sirius by the hand. He doesn't know what makes him want to do it, but it feels right. Sirius tenses at the contact but slowly relaxes. He nods and gives Remus' hand a gentle squeeze.

"Better circle back," Sirius says, dropping Remus' hand. "Looks like it's all clear out here. Besides, I can't feel my face."

…

Remus adds a new mark on a new page. They're halfway through winter, and with any luck, they will be able to continue their journey to the sea the moment the snow melts.

Remus wonders if this safe haven will be different. Maybe there is hope. Maybe there's a city filled with the last people on earth, and everything will be okay.

Really, he's afraid to hope. It hasn't gotten him anywhere yet. The only reason he's survived is logic and luck.

With a sigh, he closes his journal and joins the others for breakfast.

…

Remus feels eyes on him as he splashes the remains of the melted snow over his body. When he turns, he finds Sirius there, a grin on his face.

"Don't stop on my behalf," Sirius laughs, pulling off his own shirt. "Modesty doesn't really have a place here."

Remus can't help but to stare. Sirius has grown thin from hunger, but his stomach still shows hints of what had once been muscles. He swallows dryly, forcing himself to look away. "I'm almost done here anyway," he mumbles.

"Pity," Sirius laughs, dropping his trousers and kicking them to the side. "I wouldn't have minded the company."

III

"The snow is starting to melt," James reports. "I'd give it about two weeks, and we can start-"

He trails off, covering his mouth as he coughs violently. All eyes are on him.

"No blood. See?" he says, showing his clean hands. Still, his voice trembles with uncertainty. "I'm not sick."

"The Riddle Virus evolved," Remus says. "It could have changed. Remember the reports? It kept mutating. Symptoms changing their nature, new ones developing."

"He's right," Sirius says, covering his mouth and backing away.

"The virus died out," James insists, his voice shrill, desperate. "I'm not infected."

A second cough sounds from outside. Peter walks in, his eyes watery, nose running. "I don't feel so good, you guys. I think I'm dying," he says, and Remus is certain that the last part is meant as a joke, but Peter's voice is so thin, so weak.

Remus and Sirius exchange glances.

"We can't just kill them," Sirius insists, eyes narrowing as though daring Remus to argue. "They're all I've got left."

"No. It might be nothing," Remus agrees. "But we can't risk it being something."

Sirius looks back at his friends, frowning.

"Quarantine," Remus decides. "The longest anyone held the virus was a week. We'll give you guys enough food and water for a week and a first aid kit. If it's the virus…" He doesn't want to finish his sentence. "I'm sure it's nothing. A week, and you'll be fine. It will pass."

James sighs. "Better than the alternative," he decides. "Come on, Peter."

Sirius slumps against Remus as his friends turn to leave. Awkwardly, Remus strokes Sirius' hair. "I'm sure it's nothing, Sirius," he mumbles.

"God, I hope so," Sirius groans. "I don't know what I would do without them."

…

Sirius paces anxiously. Remus groans. "Will you stop? You're making me nervous!"

"Sorry," Sirius sighs. "I don't like not knowing. What if it's back? I've known James since I was eleven. He's like a brother to me. And Peter is a good bloke. If they can get infected, we can, too. We were immune the first time, but if it's evolved, our immunity might not hold…"

He says it all in one breath, a rush of frenzied words. Remus climbs to his feet, placing his hands on Sirius' shoulders. "It's going to be okay," he says, and he remembers the way his dad would make that same promise. "Everything will be okay."

…

Remus opens his eyes when he feels the sudden pressure on his mattress. He bolts upright, ready to start swinging, but stops when he recognizes Sirius in the moonlight.

"I couldn't sleep," Sirius explains.

Remus nods and lays back, Sirius following. Remus puts an arm around him. It's all he knows to do to make Sirius feel safe. Sirius curls into him, snuggling closer. "Thanks, Remus."

…

"How do you feel?" Remus asks.

"Like shit," James answers from the window, his voice muffled by the glass.

"And Peter?"

"Sleeping it off."

Remus nods, frowning. The symptoms are close, but less severe. He wants to dismiss it, to let James and Peter join them again, but he's too scared to take the risk.

"Four more days," Remus assures him. "You'll be fine."

James offers him a mock salute before dropping his hand over his mouth to cover his cough.

…

"Did you and James ever…?"

"Ever what?" Sirius asks.

"Ever have a thing?"

Sirius snorts. "James is very much straight."

"And you?"

Sirius raises his brows, folding his arms over his chest. "Why the sudden interest in what gender I like?"

"Just a question."

Silence hangs between them. Remus shrugs it off and returns to his book, searching the map for a general idea of their location.

"I'm not so straight," Sirius says at last.

Remus nods but doesn't look up. He can feel his face burning under Sirius' stare. "Me neither."

"Yes, I noticed you like to touch me a lot," Sirius laughs.

"You like to crawl into my bed and cuddle, so I think we're even," Remus says, closing the book. "Speaking of which, it's about time for sleep."

He climbs to his feet without another word, retreating to his room. It doesn't surprise him when Sirius joins him within an hour, falling in beside him, fitting so perfectly against him.

Remus closes his eyes, drifting off.

…

Dark circles no longer rim James and Peter's eyes. Their smiles are broader, stronger. Remus sighs in relief, hope flooding through him.

"I'm getting tired of only having Peter to look at," James says.

"Hey!"

Remus laughs. "Why do you think I visit you?" he asks, grinning.

James presses his hand against the window. "You're okay, Remus. Sorry I wanted to kill you."

"I told him it was a bad idea," Peter adds quickly.

Remus shakes his head, his grin broadening. "Don't worry, guys. You'll be out soon."

…

"Seven days. Still alive," James cries, throwing his arms up as he emerges from his cabin.

Peter looks less refreshed, but much healthier than before. "Still alive," he echoes with a yawn. "Can we leave yet? I never want to see another cabin again."

Remus nods. The conditions aren't ideal, but he's ready for a change of scenery. "We'll take whatever we can carry," he says. "Pack, and move out."

This time, they follow him without looking to Sirius for confirmation. Remus smiles to himself. He's really become part of the group.

…

Remus wakes to a scream. He scrambles to his feet, nearly tripping over Sirius who has fallen asleep beside him.

It's only been two nights away from the cabins. Surely they haven't run into trouble already. Sirius is behind him as they follow the sound.

"What's this?" Sirius asks.

"I believe it's a girl," Remus answers. "Though why James is scratched up and holding her is a different story."

"She was trying to steal our food," James answers.

"Good lord, James! She's clearly starving," Remus says, pulling the girl from his grip.

She looks up at him with shocking green eyes, a grateful smile on her lips. Remus supposes that she's pretty, despite her tangled mess of auburn hair and the dirt smeared across her face. "What's your name?"

"Lily," she answers.

"You don't have to steal. We'll feed you," Remus says. "We don't have much, but it's enough."

She licks her lips, seemingly unfazed as her tongue brushes over the dirt. "Thank you."

"Do you think it's wise?" Sirius asks later as Lily curls up beside the fire.

"We're still human, Sirius. Good people don't leave others to starve."

Sirius pulls him close, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "If there's still a church out there, I'm sure you're on your way to sainthood," he says.

…

Remus watches in amusement as Lily pushes James away. Once again, they've fallen into a routine, their numbers increased by one. Once again, it feels so normal, as though this is the way it's supposed to be.

"How much longer until we reach the sea?" Peter asks.

"Not long," Lily answers. "I know this town. My family used to visit here some summers. The sea is maybe a week's journey on foot. Less, if we don't stop too much."

"Smart girls are beautiful," James says.

Sirius slips his arm around Remus' waist. "I give it a month."

"To the sea? Lily said a week."

"Until those two fall in love. They're cute, aren't they?"

Remus shrugs, but he can't help but to smile. The world has fallen apart, and they're still concerned about who's cute together.

IV

Remus exhales deeply when they reach the town. He had known that hope would be a waste. Now, as he looks at the abandoned village, he wishes he had been wrong.

"No! I was so sure!" Sirius cries. "It was supposed to be a safe place!"

"Maybe it is," Lily offers. "Or, rather, maybe it will be."

Remus considers this, slowly understanding. A grin breaks over his face as he nods. "We make this place our own," he says.

Lily returns his grin. "A safe place for anyone who needs a home," she agrees.

Sirius softens a little. The disappointment is still clear in his eyes, but he smiles. "We'll have the safe haven," he says.

"That's my Lily," James says proudly. "Sharp as a whip."

"I'm not your anything, Potter," Lily snaps, but she allows him to kiss her cheek.

Peter drops to his knees, tears in his eyes. "We're home."

…

Remus counts the days, mark after mark, page after page.

It takes over a month for the first survivor, a woman named Minerva, to find their settlement. She arrives one afternoon, a tabby cat following loyally behind her.

"Finally! Another woman," Lily says, nudging Remus. "I've been going out of my bloody mind with nothing around but testosterone!"

Remus laughs and pulls out a second journal, marking down the newest addition to their little home.

…

"Why's this mark circled?" Sirius asks.

"Day I met you," Remus says simply, thumbing through the pages of his book, trying to find anything useful about running a city.

"And you knew it would be important?"

Remus sets the book aside and looks up at him, smiling. "It was the day I was taken in. The first day that my life started feeling normal. Well, as normal as it can feel with James threatening to kill me, at least."

Sirius snorts. "No idea where the idea for that even came from. We'd just been robbing people for their food and moving along," he says, taking Remus by the hand and pulling him to his feet. He presses a quick kiss to his lips. "You saved us, you know? We wouldn't have stopped for the winter. I don't know if the cold or the starvation would have gotten us first, but we wouldn't have made it."

Remus rests his head against Sirius' chest, his fingers absently dancing across his lover's stomach. "I guess it's a good thing you found me," he whispers.

…

People trickle in a few at time, mostly alone or in pairs, though there's sometimes a larger group. Not everyone stays. Some still talk of fabled cities, miraculously restored, and only stay in the seaside village long enough for a bite to eat and restful night's sleep.

Still, others call their little haven home. A village of seventeen people isn't grand by the old days' standards, but Remus is amazed that so many are together, healthy and building a new world.

…

There's a chill in the air as the two of them stand together by the shore, their fingers laced together. "Do you ever wonder what's out there?" Sirius asks, his eyes on the horizon. "I mean, if there are survivors in other places?"

"Has to be," Remus says quietly, moving closer to Sirius as the cold wind brushes against his skin.

"Maybe we'll explore together one day," Sirius says. "I'll be the pirate captain, and you'll track the days, seasons, weather, and, most importantly, document my heroic voyage across the sea!"

Remus snorts, rolling his eyes. "Heroic voyage?" laughs.

"Shhh. Let me enjoy things, Remus."

…

Remus adds another mark, circling it. "Is today something special?" Sirius asks, resting his chin on Remus' shoulder. "You only circle important days."

Remus sets the notebook aside, nodding. "Today is the day that I'm finally going to tell you that I love you."

Sirius is silent at that. Remus bites the inside of his cheek, too nervous to turn and see his expression. Has he been mistaken? Is love the wrong thing to feel? Perhaps Sirius has only felt lust. Perhaps he's only seen Remus as a warm body to fall into bed with.

After several moments, Sirius flips back a page, to the circled mark that memorializes their first meeting. His finger trails across the many marks that follow, until he turns the page and finds the freshly circled mark. "Did it really take you that long to realize this?"

"Just that long to say it," Remus mumbles.

Sirius pulls him into his arms, kissing him. "I love you, too, Remus."

…

The first frost hits when Lily and James come to visit, Peter following behind.

"We wanted you guys to be the first ones to know," James says. "We're all family, so…"

Lily takes his hand, kissing his knuckles. "We're going to have a baby."

Remus stares, his jaw dropping. Once, the news would have been a devastating blow. But they are safe now. They are home. Life is continuing and falling back into place.

"Godfather!" Sirius shouts. "I call godfather!"

"That's not actually how it works," Peter says quietly.

"Well, to be fair, Sirius called it first," James says. "That means he's it."

Remus smiles to himself. It's hard to believe that they're here now, celebrating a new life after so much death. After so much chaos, life has begun to feel normal again.

…

Frank and Alice Longbottom arrive two months after the announcement. Alice's stomach is a bump as noticeable as Lily's. Remus marvels at the woman for a moment. Another baby to be born. Hope for the new world, for a continuation of life.

…

"We could get married, you know," Sirius murmurs as they collect clams along the shore. "There aren't any laws against it now."

Remus looks up at him, amazed by the thought. A new world, a better world built from the ashes of the old ways. A world where they can be together in peace. Before he can answer, someone shouts Sirius' name.

They look up to see a young girl, no older than twelve, rushing towards them. She's small and slender, bones poking through her skin, but what catches Remus' eye is the shock of pink, choppy hair.

"Only you could find hair dye during the apocalypse, Dora," Sirius laughs.

The girl skids to a stop, nearly tripping into the water, but Sirius catches her, steadying her. "Berries," she says. "Doesn't hold well enough, but it gets the job done."

"This is my cousin, Dora," Sirius says. "This is my boyfriend, Remus."

Dora nods at Remus before turning her attention back to Sirius. "I-"

"Is Regulus with you? I thought you were both dead, but if you made it, then…"

Dora shakes her head, her expression grim. "The virus took Mum and Dad. Regulus and I survived, but…" She trails off, her eyes fixed pointedly at her bare feet. "There's a gang back in the cities. They call themselves the Death Eaters."

Remus scowls, remembering his encounter with the group. "Terrible people," he says.

"They're all over the cities now. They decided I was too clumsy, but that Regulus would be useful," she says. "He was protecting me. Told me to run. I didn't want to leave him, but I- I was scared, Sirius. I didn't have a choice."

Sirius pulls his cousin into his arms, ruffling her messy hair. "At least I know now," he says gently. "Closure is a good thing."

…

Spring turns to summer. Lily and Alice both sport swollen bellies as they bring in a new family, a mother and six boys, the youngest maybe a year old.

"Molly Weasley," she says before introducing each of her sons. "Looks like I've come at a good time. Used to be a midwife, you know, before I started a family of my own."

Remus smiles as she fawns over Lily and Alice.

"First times?"

"Yes," Lily says, Alice echoing her.

"Well, not to worry, loves. If there's one thing I know, it's childbirth. Had to walk Bill through the process to deliver Ron," she says, indicating the ten year old who holds the baby. "We lost Arthur along the way. Snake bite. But we're still here."

Remus nods, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We've all been through a lot," he agrees. "We're carrying on."

"All we can do," Alice says, stroking her stomach. "Keep going. Don't look back."

"We'll get you settled in," Lily offers. "There are still a lot of empty homes. It used to have hundreds of residents, but now we only have thirty-eight."

"A good number. Better than none," Molly says. "Come along, boys. Fred, George, hold Percy's hands! Don't wander off! Charlie, don't run! You have no idea where you're going!"

…

"It's insane," Sirius says, shaking his head.

Dora scowls. "I don't have a home anymore, Sirius. I'm fast. I can make it on my own. I could run between towns, spreading the word. Maybe I'll even find other havens like this. It's worth a shot."

"She has a point," Remus says quietly. "If the Death Eaters are expanding their territory, people are going to need a safe place."

"You're not going alone. We'll talk to Kingsley in the morning. He'll want to accompany you," Sirius says firmly. "We'll have our first snow soon, and you can't-"

"Death Eaters aren't waiting," Dora interrupts. "We can't afford to wait."

Sirius starts to argue when Peter bursts through the door, panting and red in the face. "Sorry. Lily. Baby. Now. Come!"

…

Molly looks exhausted when she places baby Harry in Lily's arms. Neville Longbottom was born the night before, only hours earlier, and Molly hasn't had much time to rest between deliveries. She collapses in a chair next to the bed, and Remus covers her with a blanket.

The old Marauders gather around, each wearing identical expressions of amazement and admiration over the little squirming bundle.

Remus takes Sirius' hand, smiling. "Amazing, isn't it?" he whispers. "All the suffering is worth it in the end, because life goes on."

…

Kingsley hands the map to Dora before slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Travel won't be as quick once the snow falls," he says. "We'll try to send word as often as we can, and the goal is to check back at least every two months."

"Preferably sooner," Sirius mumbles.

Dora rests a hand on her cousin's shoulder, offering him a bright smile. "We'll do what we can, Sirius."

"You do have a home, you know," Sirius says quietly. "You'll always have a home with me."

Dora nods before turning to Remus. "Look after him. Take care of him, or I will not hesitate to break your face," she says before laughing and throwing her arms around him. "I'll be back. Promise."

…

"You talked about getting married a few months ago," Remus says softly, afraid of waking baby Harry as he naps. "Did you mean it?"

"I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend the rest of my life with," Sirius confirms.

Remus feels a flutter in his chest. "We could ask Garrick," he says. "He used to be a minister. And he hasn't tried to stone us for being together, so I reckon he's one of those tolerant ones."

"You know it's a big step, right?"

Remus nods. "It's been one big step after another. I don't think I'd mind taking one more," he answers.

Sirius takes his hand, kissing his knuckles. "We'll talk to Garrick. Have the wedding when Dora and Kingsley return."

Remus smiles to himself, watching as Harry squirms in his sleep. Life goes on, and he knows that everything will be okay.