They stand there for a bit, candles flickering in the cold wind, hands clasped over the wide gap between them. Remus stares at the headstone, at the names of his friends and the dates they spent living and the flowers leaning below that, and thinks about how little it captured their essences. How even that statue in the square barely captured their likeness, only showed their physical traits and none of James’ warmth, or Lily’s kindness, his laugh or her hugs. It had shown none of their