A/N — Written for DADA (write about a character living without something important. It can't be something they've always been missing, they must loose it and learn how to live without it) using the optional prompts [pairing] Sirius/Remus and [genre] angst.

And thanks to Firefly for beta'ing :)

Remus had been away — it seemed as though he were always away recently — but news travelled fast. Especially news like this.

You-Know-Who was dead!

The entire wizarding population of Great Britain was in celebration; it was as though no one had quite registered the consequences of war. But Remus felt it like a bludger to the chest; the loss and devastation that were all he had left.

James and Lily: gone, betrayed by the man they had trusted the most. Peter killed at the hands of one of his best friends. And …

Remus trudged through the streets of East London, having taken the earliest train back into the city that he could get, trying to ignore the celebrations around him. He had been too late to see Harry; the child already having been passed on to his aunt and uncle to live a life of relative normalcy. And now Remus had to try and do the same.

.oOo.

The first few rejection letters had been a disappointment but expected. No one in their right mind would want to hire a werewolf, no matter how qualified, but he had to keep trying. Without the generosity of his friends, money was running out.

With each letter, the disappointment grew until eventually it just became a habit to send off applications. He never opened the replies. They built up on the kitchen counter, covered in dust and haphazard coffee rings, until he could no longer afford rent.

.oOo.

The brief moments with his parents had been painful, to say the least. The constant how are you's grew old quickly, and he could only drink so much tea. And his mother had moved on to the low-in-fat biscuits which certainly didn't help matters.

Eventually, he knew, he would have to leave. But not just yet.

.oOo.

When the idea came to him, it was so obvious it hurt. Of course he should have done this sooner, and how hadn't he thought of this before? But then, he hadn't really been thinking straight, had he?

He sent in the applications the next morning; menial jobs that didn't really require any qualifications, but he fudged his resume a little anyway, just to boost his chances. He was desperate.

.oOo.

He accepted the first offer he got, starting work nearly a week after. The job was far beneath his skills, and he'd never imagined himself working in muggle retail, but he didn't have a choice anymore.

He saved his paycheques each month, and when they inevitably fired him (he was unreliable, and perhaps he would be better suited for a different job) he still had enough left over for a deposit on a small flat on the outskirts of London.

.oOo.

It got a little easier to get jobs after that; he was still barely scraping by, money-wise, and he was usually let-go after a few months (his record was six, and he was quite pleased with that), but he was surviving. He got by.

And then the letter came, the Hogwarts seal unmistakable.

He broke the wax with shaking hands, pulling out the thick sheets of parchment. He floo'd his parents immediately, and he couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier.

Not since …

But things were different now, and his life was finally looking up.