November 3rd 1981- Wolfstar Daughter
It was Sirius Black's 22nd birthday. As he sat in his cell, hot tears prickling down his cheeks, he hummed the tune of happy birthday while slowly muttering the lyrics.
"Happy... birthday..... to.... Sirius, happy birth-" he burst into tears.
Falsely accused of the murder of 12 muggles and Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black is sent to Azkaban. He spends his time grieving the loss of James and Lily, along with the loss of Moony and his normal life. He often wondered where Remus was now, probably hates Sirius more than anything.
Remus Lupin was broken. A broken man in a broken world. Lily and James- dead. Sirius- Azkaban. Peter Pettigrew- dead. Dumbledore had refused to let him see Harry and personally, Remus could understand why. He was a monster. A lonely, broken monster. At least that's what he kept telling himself.
Andromeda Tonks was in denial. In her mind there were three stages to grief, denial, depression and digestion. Denial, the stage where you don't believe the truth or reality of the situation. Depression, feeling little to no happiness. Digestion, finally digesting what's happened and getting over it. So why couldn't she get over it?
Molly Weasley was confused. Although she had barely known Sirius Black, she'd heard a few stories of him and James Potter in her last year of Hogwarts and the Order of course. She'd remembered him having a rather competitive relationship with her two brothers, Fabion and Gideon. Oh Fabion and Gideon, if only they knew how much she missed them.
Peter Pettigrew was relieved. He'd slithered out of the situation and was free. Well, he was a rat but that was enough for him. Although, he couldn't help the slight tinge of guilt that seemed to be growing. The Potter were dead, Sirius was in Azkaban but what about Remus? The only one who never really mistreated him. What was he to do now? But the thing with rats is, they are the prey, not the predator.