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𝕽emus had never had to properly grieve before.
He knew of the five stages of course, majority of the Wizarding World were processing through them at different periods of time; the denial, the anger, the bargaining, the depression...then the acceptance.
He had never had to properly grieve before, and for some reason he couldn't bring himself to divulge in those five stages considered as a healthy way to move on from his mother's death. His dad seemed to be going through them despite putting on a strong face for him, Remus just couldn't. He'd drawn to the conclusion that perhaps his wolf was immune to the stages, that he'd do it his own way that worked for him— probably inflicting himself pain at the next full moon to relieve it all.
He's not certain which way is considered better, he just knows that his mum is gone and she'll never come back...and fuck cancer for taking her so soon. She shouldn't be dead, but she is and that's the reality he's currently living in.
They couldn't have a funeral, she may have been a muggle, but she was connected to the Wizarding World through them and the very last thing they wanted was death eaters showing up and firing curses whilst they were paying their respects to this honourable, warm hearted and loving woman. His mum.
The one who had been with him through absolutely everything in his life. Now, gone. She was supposed to be aged, silver and wrinkled when she left, not middle aged, tired and worn from the destructive muggle disease.
Instead, they had a small burial, then a cramped wake in the Lupin cottage for anyone who would like to pay their respects and give their condolences. Relatives from her side he had not seen in quite a while had shown up briefly, not quite understanding why there wasn't a proper mourning process considering her Jewish ancestry, however taking whatever they had to give.
His amber eyes surveyed the garden blankly, occasionally finding himself glancing down to the arranged flower pinned to his coat his Willow had insisted on. Both he and his dad were happy for her to take charge of the flowers, after all, they always bonded and connected through floriography.
Willow. She also had seemed to be accepting the passing in her own ways, trying to stay calm and soothed with the reminder his mum was happy in her own paradise, looking down on them with her affectionate smiles. The veela had been cornered by one of his Aunts and Uncles, bombarding her with what he supposed were questions on her appearance, ancestry and links to the family. They're always nosy like that.
Still, she smiled gracefully and answered politely with the winds blowing her lowered pearly locks back she had twisted into a half up, half down sort of style, ironically looking like somewhat of the reflection of the shimmering moonlight. Noticing the light furrow in her brows and the way her head tilted as the elder couple waited with baited breaths, he decided to stroll over in attempt to aid her.
He didn't miss the way a relieved glint flashed in her heterochromic eyes as soon as he appeared by her side, arm managing to wind around her waist in a silent way of saying he's here, turning to his stout aunt and uncle with a plastered on smile, nodding his head along to whatever rubbish they continued to spout out before trotting away.
