this. She had consciously made the decision to live Sirius’ worst nightmare. They may have survived the war, the three of them, but Remus was the only one who remembered it, who lived through it and still had the memories to hand. They didn’t deal with the random flashbacks to times he wished he could return to: days spent in the garden of Potter manor, nights running around school wreaking all sorts of ridiculous havoc, only to wake up once more in the desolate world his life had become. They didn’t have the nightmares of raids, being shot at and cursed, being followed and watched. He was jealous, there was nothing more to it. They didn’t have the raw agony that he would feel on people's birthdays, wishing to be screaming ABBA at the top of his lungs in teh Gryffindor commons room. They didn’t even remember when their birthdays were.