Don't blink or it will vanish.
He had always been a very realistic person, the mature one, the one to think things through. When he was first bitten as a child, small and frail bones turning to steel, his mother had told him it would be all right in the end. He had replied, with all the eloquence he would never again find, that no, it wouldn't.
She had cried and he had felt sorry, wished he could take it back but knew he couldn't.
When he was eleven and awkward but armed with books, his mother had told that he would make a lot of friends at school. He had told her he would try. Knew he probably wouldn't.
He didn't make a lot of friends but, to his surprise, he did gain three. Just enough to count as a pack. The marauders of stone hallways and the shout of unsuspecting targets. It was wonderful and exasperating and he half-thought, half-wished that it would last forever, despite the others' talk of After and Someday.
Really, it was the beginning of the end.
James fell, then Peter, and finally Sirius- all of them taken away to a dark place. One by one, the farthest thing from maids but still all in a row.
He wished it could have been different.
Then it was, for a while, with Sirius pushing his way back into life but still bound.
He wished his best friend, only friend, could be free.
It was the last time in a long while that Remus allowed himself to wish anything. The end of it all.
Now he's alone again, bound by knowledge that it all turned out wrong. That he's the last one standing, that no matter where he goes he won't find people like them ever again. Not afraid of him, not disgusted, willing to change along with him.
So he sits and lets his eyes go unfocused as people walk by, sees a blur of twin black and young laughter-
Moony, Moony, Moony. All that brooding can't be good for you, mate.
Prongs is right. You're getting premature wrinkles already.
And possibly greying.
"And who's fault is that, exactly?" Remus wants to ask but blinks and the world is back the way it's supposed to be.
He wishes he could stay unfocused forever.