A/N: Just a drabble I came up with while reading summaries for fanfiction. Hope you enjoy. Please review.

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The bed was pleasantly warm, and Harry felt Remus's breath on his cheek; light, rhythmic, quick, meaning Remus was likely awake.

"Good morning, I am studiously not going to comment upon the creepiness of you watching me while I sleep, would pancakes or French toast this morning?" Harry rolled over to face his lover and greeted with only a trace of grogginess in his voice. With Remus around, he was a morning person. And an afternoon person. And a night person.

"Just making sure you don't wake up," Remus said.

"Studiously not commenting upon the creepiness of that statement in its entirety; pancakes it is." But he didn't move an inch, instead focusing on the light streaming in through the blinds, hitting Remus's face, making it as brilliant as the crisp white bedsheets. The stubble on his face was endearing, and Harry couldn't resist the urge to run his middle finger down Remus's long, straight nose. The grey in Remus's hair, which by now took up the majority of his scalp, was highlighted to white. Remus had a halo. How befitting, Harry thought.

"You didn't have any nightmares last night," Remus smiled beatifically.

"No," Harry agreed. Sometimes, lying means you love someone.

"Do you think you're getting better? You think you'll be able to leave, soon?"

"Leave, Remus?"

"...Harry?"

"What?"

Remus looked at him sternly. "What did you call me, Harry?"

"Er, Professor Lupin?"

A dead silence. And then, "...Harry..."

"What is it? Remus, what's wrong?"

"Harry, Remus has been dead for three months," Remus told him, sadly.

Harry stared, uncomprehending.

"That's nonsense, you're right here!"

"I'm not Remus, Harry. It's Hermione. Her-my-oh-nee. Hermione Granger." Remus added, looking like he was losing his patience, and pacing in front of the bed now. Funny, Harry couldn't remember him standing up...

"I know Hermione's surname." Harry snapped. "What the hell is this, Remus? What game is this? It's not funny. In fact, it's pretty bloody-,"

At this, Remus was suddenly a white, animated corpse, with blood streaming from his nostrils.

"Harry... Harry, what's the matter?" Remus's dead body asked with feminine, sisterly concern. Harry sat up and shook his head, too aghast with horror to reply.

"Nurse..." The dead Remus called hesitantly, biting its lip. "Nurse, I think..."

Harry began screaming.

"Merlin's beard!" An elderly, fat woman came into the room, and began strapping Harry's arms down as he clawed at his own face.

"REMUS! REMUS!"

She force-fed the Boy Who Lived with a tranquilising potion.

"He was doing so well... I thought, for a second there..." Hermione said as she watched, helplessly.

"The boy lost the person he loved most in the battle against Voldemort," the nurse said, shaking her head with regret. Hermione was still struck with the abandon with which she- and everyone else, now, too- said the name. "If it were me, I don't think I'd ever be right in the head again."

"I suppose not..." Hermione sighed. "Goodbye, Harry," she said to her old friend. "I'll give your love to Ron."

She put her hat on her head, and left the hospital room, and then exited St Mungo's, wondering for not the first time how Harry's love for Remus Lupin could have escaped everyone's- including her own- notice, and whether Remus had ever known. It was bright outside. The sun warmed her. She hoped it would warm Harry, once he woke up. But then, he was never really awake. Even when he was awake, Harry Potter lived a nightmare.