Four Little Monkeys, Jumping On The Bed...

It was three weeks ago, and I was sitting right here, talking and playing Wizard's Chess to the early hours of the morning with him. I was off duty that night, and he was going stir crazy being kept up in number twelve, Grimmauld Place with no company except Kreacher (something was foul about that house-elf, I should have known. Maybe it would have spared me this tormenting grief.), but it was for his own safety. Like it he or not. Of course he was worried for Harry, but, I told him that as long as he was in Hogwarts, with Dumbledore, he was safer then he would be anywhere else. He nodded but looked slightly irritated, took another drink of his firewhiskey.

"I have to look out for him, Remus...James can't be here to, and I can't fail James anymore then I have..." he had said, voice tight, strained, almost clipped.

It had struck me then, how very alone we were. Peter, of course was still alive, but was far better off dead then to be alive and a traitor. Neither of us counted him in our thoughts. Not anymore. James and Lily had been murdered, how long ago? Sixteen years? God, so long ago, yet it still stung like yesterday at times. Sirius and I were the last two Marauders...last two left still fighting.

"We're the last, eh?" Sirius said softly, suddenly, as if reading my thoughts. I lifted my eyes to his curiously, wanting to see what brought that about. He merely gave a wan smile, answering my silently asked question. "Just thinking about Harry. We're the last of our group, and I suppose we're the last of his family. No, I know the Dursleys are there, but those are just blood kin. I mean family, Moony. I'm his godfather, and you know he thinks highly of you..." he trailed off a little, leaving the words hang.

Times like these, with hiding, fighting, worrying, death, made you know fully your own mortality.

Three weeks ago my best friend, the only one I had left, was alive. Three weeks ago, I should have taken advantage of having him here to joke and reminisce with. What's the old saying? You don't know what you have until it's gone? Something like that. And trust me, I'm feeling it now. James and Sirius are dead, and Peter should be. Here I am, mourning, which I suppose is quite understandable, and think of what Harry must be feeling? He's lost his parents and the only person he's gotten close enough to, to consider as a parent. My stomach sinks. It's sickening, this war that we have started again.

I looked at myself in the mirror today and saw a paler, sharper face then I usually do. Light stubble crosses my cheeks and I supposed I should shave it. I did so, but it did nothing to make me look less peaky. Kingsley, Tonks, Molly of course and even Mad-Eye have asked me if I was feeling alright. Their concern, if possible, makes me feel worse. Sirius had a purpose to live for, he had Harry to live for, I had no one. My parents died nigh to seven years ago, and a werewolf isn't really a good quality to have in most women's eyes.

Whenever asked, I blamed the upcoming full moon for it, which could be understood; the full moon was almost upon us, three days to go. Already I could feel my body starting to dread the normal-by-now change. Every once in a while, my hands would shake from it, if not that then the horrible feeling I had, guilt and grief. Not a good combination.

I saw the set of Wizard's Chess that Arthur Weasley's youngest son, Ron, had left in the kitchen and I shut my eyes. When I opened them, I went over to the table, bewitched the pieces so I could play a game against the other pieces, even if there was no one telling them where to go. Three weeks ago, I was playing this with Sirius. I played for a little while before the sounds of footsteps behind me drew my attention. My hearing is much better then most, so the owner of the feet most likely supposed themselves to be very quiet, or were hoping they were. Probably Molly. I didn't look up from the game, merely watched without seeing the chessboards Queen pummel one of my rooks and got the bitter thought that that's all we were anymore. Life sized chess pieces being moved around by some sadistic entity.

"Remus?" was the query from the unknown. It was definitely not Molly; it was Tonks.

I looked over my shoulder at her, probably looking very harassed, but couldn't stop the faint smile from crossing my face. She had her hair short and spiky, but black now, no vibrant colors for she had lost a cousin when I had lost a best friend, but she had instead changed her eyes to a startling violet shade. Only a cousin of Sirius' could pull it off. She looked concerned (much to my dismay), and came over to see what I was doing. She sat down next to me with not so much a word. After a moment of watching the chess pieces beat each other to hell she looked over and put a hand on my arm.

"You doin' ok?" she asked, and by looking at her face, I could see she really cared.

I nodded a little, eyes falling to her hand. I'd always had that vague idea she might... but...no, that was just my imagination.

"I will be sooner or later." was the only reply I could give.

She nodded, understandingly it seemed, and with no warning, wrapped her arms around me in an embrace. Usually, I'm not the person to be a very physical type, but something about her, or maybe it was something else, caused that to break. Grief unimaginable welled up and I merely put my arm around her as well.

I'm still there, in the kitchen, having woken from a slumber that crept upon me and took advantage of my exhaustion and fatigue. I opened my eyes to find the chess pieces had finished their bashing of each other and were now still and quiet. Tonks' spiky black head was nested on my shoulder, still asleep. In the back of my mind I could hear Sirius saying, "My cousin? Cripes Moony, you have an odd taste in women...or maybe it's her with the strange taste in men, eh?" and barking his laugh as he shook his head, and imagined what torment Kingsley would put us through if by some strike of bad luck he walked in. I smiled a little at the thoughts, and (against my better judgment) placed a small kiss on the top of her head, which was a small feat in and of itself as I had to manage not to get stabbed by one of the pointed locks. A realization hit me as I did. Three weeks ago, Sirius had said, "I have to look out for him, Remus...James can't be here to, and I can't fail James anymore then I have...". He hadn't failed James yet. He died fighting, and did all in his power to protect Harry. Bellatrix would get her own in the end for what she had done. I wasn't going to let Sirius fail now, when he had given up his life for all he held important. I'm not Harry's godfather, and I would never even consider to pretend it, but I'm still alive and I will take up Sirius' pledge to James. For friends are friends, even past the end.