[ At one point in time, very long ago, Remus had been innocent. Just another face in the crowd ambling through life, still unaware yet hopeful of whatever life might throw at him along the way. He'd had dreams of attending Hogwarts, of working in the Ministry like his father and living in a quaint little cottage out in the countryside with a family of his own. It was simply too bad that he'd learned at the very tender age of three, that one simple, but terrifying instant could take all of those innocent dreams away. Remus had been forced to grow up too quickly and while he had accepted that fact, he had been unwilling to accept that his friends wouldn't remain unaffected. He'd hoped they'd come out of this war, safe ... alive.
Tears stain the pages of the journal, smudging the shaking lines of Remus' trademark cursive as he scrawls a note onto the page. He's trying to hold back his sobs in quiet little hitches of breath, a soft whimper in the back of his throat. Remus has always been the sensitive member of the marauders, but he hardly ever cries. After what he's just been through, the nightmare he's just woken up from, he's finding it rather difficult to keep his composure. ]
You know ... at one point I had hoped that the war back home would end quickly. That the rest of us would go about our lives and we'd be safe and we'd be together again. No more disappearances, no more deaths. But that's not how war works. You can hope and wish all you want, but things are never going to turn out the way you want it to. War will take everything from you, one way or another, and all you can do is try to survive.
Harry... Harry, I am so sorry. I am so, so very sorry that I could do nothing. I am so sorry ...
[ An audible sigh and a whimper can be heard over the journal as he covers his face with his hands, not at all caring if anybody finds him sitting against the wall in the lobby, head in his hands and looking a tad more worse for wear than he did a few weeks back. His hair has flecks of grey within his natural tawny brown, evidence of the heavy amounts of stress he'd been put under in the past year and a half he'd spent back home. ]