He turned and ran. He'd forgotten completely about his bike, he just ran down the steps and down the drive and out the gate, letting the house fade behind him (maybe if you don't think about it it won't have happened), and running faster than he could remember ever running before. He didn't even know where he was going; he just knew that if he stopped he'd probably just curl up in a ball of self-loathing and never move again. Where could he go? James was dead. Lily was dead. Harry was dead. The anchors around which his world revolved were gone. What was he going to do with his life? There was no point in fighting this stupid war anymore, the Potters were dead and Remus hated him and Peter -