Remus

He stared at the parchment as twelve years of his life turned into a lie.
Twelve years.
Twelve years of pain.
Twelve years of a deafening, all consuming, everlasting loneliness.
But he was not the last one standing, not anymore.

He stared at map again, his hands trembling.
It was unable to lie, and even if it were, it would never lie to him.

The name had not changed.
It was still there.

Peter Pettigrew.
Wormtail.

His hands touched the name lightly, almost caressing it.

Peter….

Some of the loneliness of his heart faded just by looking at the name, and for a brief second he dared to believe in friendship again.

Then a shadow moved over the parchment, swiftly, too swiftly to be human… a dark dot with the name of Sirius Black.

No!

The blood of the werewolf turned into ice.

You can't do this to me!

The spot attacked Peter, Ron and dragged the both of them into the Whomping Willow.
There was nothing Remus could do.
He was powerless.

Not again! Please... not again!

He watched how Peter was drawn into the hidden tunnel by their treacherous, murdering friend and he was up before he knew it, almost falling down the stairs for extra speed, rushing to the tunnel faster than he ever had.

But…
A realization hit him so hard it almost stopped him dead in his tracks.
Sirius could not do it again.
If Peter was still alive to be killed… that meant Sirius had not killed him.

And… if Sirius had not killed Peter…

Then….
Then….

He started running again, faster even…

Sirius?