James Potter's funeral was a large yet quiet affair, filled with seemingly hundreds of people he touched during his too-short life.
Sirius held James and Lily's only child in his arms, trying not to cry as they lowered the casket to the ground.
The Marauders are gone, all that remains are two broken men and a child whose life was cursed before he was born, a child who was supposed to be the chosen one.
But as Remus had stared at the boy, with James's curly hair and Lily's eyes, he couldn't help but find it cruel that they would thrust that burden upon a child who didn't even know what magic was yet.
Dumbledore wanted to give Harry to Lily's sister Petunia, but Sirius would never let Harry live with that terrible woman.
So Sirius took him in, and when he asked for Remus's help he couldn't refuse. He didn't care that their relationship had crashed and burned in the war, he didn't care that Sirius had thought he was the traitor, and he didn't care that he still loved Sirius. In that moment all he wanted to do was be there for Harry, and if that meant moving back in with his ex, then so be it.
So he'd packed his stuff (of which he had very little) and moved back in with Sirius, back to the home he and Sirius bought right out of Hogwarts when they were still young and stupid and deeply in love.
The world outside moved on, but in that house, time stayed frozen. The world forgot about James and Lily but they couldn't.
Sirius tried his best to be there for Harry, but it hurt. It hurt to look at that child and see his dead friends in every feature. Remus tried too, but every time he looked into Harry's eyes all he saw was Lily.
The wonderful girl who had studied with him, who had visited the library every day for a month straight in the hopes that she could find the recipe for the wolfsbane potion.
Lily, who had teased him for loving Sirius and then flushed when he teased her for loving James. Lily, who had held him and cared when his mother died. Lily, who had fiercely defended him every time that somebody even hinted that he could be the traitor.
Lily Evans. Lily Potter. His platonic soulmate, the light of his life when he and Sirius broke things off.
So it was hard to look at Harry when all he saw was long nights of studying, playful banter, and chocolate. When he could hear her laugh, see her smile, remember how wonderful she looked when she and James got married.
Despite the pain, he and Sirius tried their best to make him happy. His days were filled with playing and magic and far more chocolate than a child should be allowed to have at his age.
And suddenly his emerald eyes were no longer Lily's, they were Harry's. His hair was no longer James's, it was his.
Those eyes no longer brought memories of studying and potions and chocolate.
They brought memories of warm summer days and meadows of daisies, of reading fairy tales and practicing magic, of hard full moons and falling asleep with Harry on his chest as soft jazz played in the background.
Harry never stopped being James and Lily's son but became his child too.
And Harry was just like them. Sometimes he would do something stupid like fly his broom down the stairs and he and Sirius would just stare at each other. Or he would correct them on the right way to pronounce something and explain that it originated from this language or that, and they would do the same.
Harry's emerald eyes lit up his life in the same way that Lily's had.
And when Remus and Sirius sat Harry down to tell him they were dating, Harry simply nodded and asked if he could play with Molly Weasely's children. Because he was young and didn't yet understand that relationships were complicated, and their getting back together was huge.
Harry would groan when Sirius would peck his cheek before leaving for work, gagging dramatically in the exact damn way that James used to do. He would mumble that it was gross and didn't want to see it as he shoveled breakfast into his mouth.
And when Harry was happy, his eyes lit up in joy as he smiled. Remus couldn't help but see Lily.
When Harry would stick his tongue out at Ginny Weasely and insist that girls were icky and that he didn't want to play with her, he saw James. Especially when he came crying to them thirty minutes later because Ginny had punched him. That was very James if you asked Remus.
Then, years later, when he came into Remus's school office one day during Harry's third year at Hogwarts and had the biggest smile on his face as he said that he just kissed Ginny, Remus also saw James.
It seemed like falling for redheads ran in the family.
Ginny was very different to Lily though, she was a tiny thing, fiery and sarcastic. She was as sure that she would be the best female Quidditch player ever as she was that the earth revolved around the sun. She was sure of herself. Lily was also sure of herself but in a quiet and more reserved way.
And Lily wouldn't have been caught dead playing quidditch.
She much preferred to sit and read on the common room couch as The Marauders talked about anything and everything that came to mind. Remus, sitting on Sirius's lap and eating chocolate as he talks to Peter, and James begging her to give him attention. That was how Lily spent her days.
It was sometimes unnerving to Remus, how similar Harry was to James and Lily.
But most of the time he looked into his child's eyes and thanked god that he was because Remus had always been sure that neither he nor Sirius would have ever survived without the boy.
They saved Harry, but he saved them too.
And maybe that's what a family really is, a group of people who save each other when they most need saving.
Because Remus knows that it sure as hell has nothing to do with blood.
He has his family, his people. And though the future is unsure with the inevitable return of the dark lord, he knows that he'll be able to adapt. He just takes life one step at a time and he doesn't take one second for granted.
He supposes that's all you really can do in times like these.