Author's Notes: Non-compliant with DH.

Remus wasn't certain why he had woken at that particular moment. There had been no startling noise, nor sunlight shining directly in his eyes. He wasn't even uncomfortable. And he was still extremely tired. He was exhausted, really, if he was honest with himself.

He opened his eyes and it was dark.

It wasn't the kind of darkness that just signified that it was night time. Remus, of all people, well knew that the light of the moon would have allowed him to see to some extent had that been the case. No, it was the kind of darkness that suggested that either he was locked away where the light couldn't reach him, or that there was something very wrong with him.

Either way, he was screwed.

He panicked, allowing a whimper to escape his lips. Normally he only allowed himself a bare moment of hopelessness before he pulled himself together. It was his coping mechanism. But when he realised that he couldn't hear the sounds he was making, he began to shake.

Something came to rest on his shoulder, steadying him. He jerked under the touch, surprised. As he was rubbed purposefully down his arm, Remus realised it was a hand that was touching him.

"Who are you?" he tried to ask, but he only got as far as saying the first word before he stopped, startled that he couldn't hear his own voice as he spoke.

The other person seemed to understand him all the same, though. His hand was grasped and pulled out in front of him, palm facing up. Then there was something lightly skimming over the skin of the outstretched hand.

It took him a moment to realise the purpose of the touch, but then he felt something that was distinctly an 'r' being traced on his palm, followed by a second 'r', and something he was fairly certain was a 'y'.

"Harry?" he asked.

Though he couldn't hear himself to know whether he'd expressed himself correctly, the squeeze of his hand was more than enough to assure him that he'd been understood, and that his guess was correct.

"Harry," Remus repeated. He hoped his voice expressed just how happy he felt at the revelation that he wasn't alone (and, perhaps more importantly, that it was Harry who was with him).

He was pulled close, flush against the other man's body. For a moment he was disoriented, confused by the movement of his body when he couldn't actually see the cause. But a rubbing sensation on his back calmed him a little and he relaxed into what was obviously a hug.

He decided that it was actually very comforting.

"What happened to me?" he asked.

Harry moved away from him and took up his hand once more.

It took Remus a few tries to recognise and string together enough of the letters to get the gist of it.

"Legilimency?"

He understood Harry's intention, of course. He wanted Remus to cast the spell on him so that he could see Harry's account of the events straight from his memories. And it was a good thought; Remus couldn't think of any other way for Harry to tell him what had happened.

However, Harry seemed to have forgotten one key fact.

"Legilimency needs eye contact," Remus reminded him.

He didn't actually know how to cast that spell successfully, either, but for some reason he felt too embarrassed about that fact to admit to it. He supposed it was because he didn't often like to admit that Harry had by far surpassed him magically even though he was twenty years his elder.

He was glad, therefore, to have another excuse, even as he was crestfallen that Harry's idea couldn't work.

He didn't have to be able to see to guess that Harry also had a dejected look on his face. They stood there for a long time, neither moving, before Harry's hand flexed and he hurriedly started drawing letters once more; he'd obviously had a brain wave.

Remus eventually correctly guessed that Harry was spelling out 'Protego', but he didn't understand how a shielding spell would work. He was about to voice his doubts when he felt Harry enter his mind using Legilimency.

It took several moments of watching memories flash through his own mind – Sirius' death in particular seemed to linger longer than usual in his mind's eye – before Remus remembered the shielding charm.

He cast it, and then suddenly the memories were no longer his own. He recognised a few and realised that he was picking through Harry's brain.

Protego, indeed, Remus thought. Harry was smarter than many gave him credit for.

He felt himself being guided toward one particular memory of Harry fighting with Bellatrix Lestrange, who seemed to be attempting to drive him away from the door behind her. She was guarding it, Remus realised.

When Harry Stunned her (and Remus was almost sad that Harry hadn't killed her), he climbed over her unconscious form and through the door.

Remus saw himself hanging from the wall, also unconscious. Though he wasn't the only prisoner in the room – there were at least ten others that Remus could see – it was his side to which Harry immediately went.

Of course. He'd been captured by Death Eaters. He now vaguely remembered running into Bellatrix during a mission for the Order. He didn't remember much of anything after that, though. Mercifully,

Harry's brain directed Remus to a second memory of Harry standing by a hospital bed, which was being occupied by Remus, while a Healer explained that Bellatrix had used a Dark curse to destroy his sight and hearing.

And then he felt walls slam up in Harry's mind and was immediately repelled completely back into his own mind.

"Is that where we are?" Remus asked after taking a moment to process it all. "St Mungo's?"

A squeeze to the hand confirmed it.

"Is it permanent?"

The single squeeze this time was slower to come, as if Harry was fearful of telling him the truth, but Remus knew the answer even before he felt the pressure. If it was otherwise, he was certain it would have been reversed already.

He felt Harry climb onto the narrow bed beside him, and then there was a brief touch to his cheek.

Lips, he realised belatedly. Harry had kissed him on the cheek.

Remus reached out for Harry and he felt his hand being directed forward until it can into contact with a curved, scratchy surface.

Stubble.

Remus trailed his hand across Harry's jaw and chin and then up to his lips. They were dry, he noted. He'd never noticed how dry Harry's lips could become when Remus wasn't using his own lips to moisten them.

A kiss to his fingertips made Remus draw in a quick breath. Small touches like that felt all the more intense when he couldn't see them coming, he decided. He moved his hand around to the back of Harry's head and pulled him forward.

He missed Harry's lips the first time he tried to kiss him, but he was determined. It felt like a long time since he'd been able to experience this, and a little embarrassment wasn't about to stop him now. After a moment of manoeuvring, he found Harry's mouth with his own.

The kiss was a little desperate, but it was somehow better for that. And with his eyes closed for the kiss and their mouths occupied so that they wouldn't have been speaking anyway, the lack of sight and sound seemed temporary. As if he could open his eyes at any moment and see Harry's face inches away from his own. Though Remus knew that he was lying to himself, it was still a comforting fiction.

As he ran his tongue over the sharp edges of Harry's teeth, Remus decided that his sense of taste was unharmed. As, apparently, was his sense of smell; even though Harry smelled of stale sweat – Remus suspected he hadn't left Remus's bedside since he'd arrived at St Mungo's – the realisation that Remus could smell him at all was one of the best moments of his life.

And touch… oh, that sense definitely hadn't been impaired. If anything, it seemed to have been enhanced in the absence of his other faculties.

He fumbled for a moment as he reached for Harry's hips. Harry captured his hands and moved them around behind himself to caress his arse.

"Harry," Remus whispered as their mouths separated. Or he assumed that it was a whisper; he could hardly be sure.

Harry rested his head on Remus's shoulder. Remus could feel Harry's jaw working and suspected that he might be speaking. He wondered whether he was talking to himself or had merely forgotten in that moment of perfection that Remus could no longer hear him.

He would miss listening to that voice. He would never hear it again except in memories.

But it was hard to worry about such things when he was holding a young man who loved him in his arms.

They would get through this. They'd been through as bad, if not worse, before.

Remus found Harry's hair with his hand and ran his hand through it, imagining how it the caress would make it look even messier than it was naturally.

He might not be able to see or hear Harry, but he could still clearly feel him, their bodies rising and falling against each other in near unison as they lay together and simply breathed in their close proximity. He could feel that Harry was there, and didn't seem likely to be going elsewhere any time soon.

And though it seemed perhaps overly naive, he was still certain that as long as Harry was with him, they could find a way to work through this.

~FIN~