How did the Attack on Britain effect this character? What did they do after the battle?
*this is a drabble/short para*
Remus held the letter in his shaking hands and bit down on his lip. His father's handwriting looked almost foreign to him as he read through, learning about the death of his friends and the takeover of Wizarding Britain. He hadn't been there. Why hadn't he been there? James and Sirius had been. Lily too, he'd imagine. They had all been there when Benji went missing and for Amelia and Sturgis' deaths. He blinked several times to clear his vision before he read on, his father talking about how they were sure there would be another attack, probably on Order Headquarters. How they were slaughtering muggles in the streets. His hands shook harder.
All of his friends were there and what had he done after school? He'd fled like the coward he was.
Balling up the parchment in his first, he threw it into the roaring fire. He could have prevented this. If only he'd been there maybe he could have saved Amelia or Sturgis or Benji. Of course, his father had noted how he was glad Remus wasn't in the middle of all that. How he and his mother were so relieved he had decided to go on holiday instead of stay and fight in this nasty war. Pulling at his hair, Remus stumbled backwards to sit on his bed, elbows pressed hard into his knees as his scalp started to hurt.
He took a few deep breaths and then stood back up, almost abruptly, and started throwing his things into his tattered trunk. The same trunk that had boarded the train with him every year, since his first, to Hogwarts. It was the only thing he'd brought with him, other than a photograph or two, to remind him of home and his friends. Even just having that around made him feel guilty for abandoning them. Especially now that some of them were dead.
His mother would get on him about not folding his clothes properly when he got home, but he wasn't bothered. The only thing on his mind right now was getting back in time for the funerals. It must have already been a day or two since his father had sent the letter. Remus could have missed them, for all he knew.
Levitating his trunk, Remus took the stares down two at a time and was quick to settle his bill with the Inn Keeper. He had never been one for apparating, the feeling making him feel sick to his stomach, but now wasn't the time for a several day broom ride and the floo network didn't reach out this far. So he headed straight for the designated apparation point and tried to remember the three D's as he turned on his feet, his mother's kitchen freshly pictured in his mind right before all the air left his lungs and he was sucked through the vortex.