Pointless oneshot I wrote a long time ago. Enjoy.

He knew having the wedding at the Burrow had been a bad idea. Sure, it was the groom's childhood home, and the setting sun was positively stunning behind the oak trees, but the wards were not up to date. Not to mention over a hundred people, including nearly all of the Order, in one place at one time. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

"DEATH EATERS!" someone had shouted, just as the reception was about to begin. Harry dropped the glass he was drinking from, pulled out his wand and ran towards the source of the noise. Before he knew it, he was shouting curses at every black robed person he could see.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Reducto!"

"Protego!"

"Impedimenta!"

"Protego!Locomotor Mortis!"

"Incendio!" A tablecloth behind Harry burst into flames as he ducked out of the way. "Aguamenti!" Harry shouted at the burning table. However, his momentary distraction left him vulnerable.

"Sectusempra!" Harry was hit by the curse, deep lacerations slicing his stomach, chest, and face. He hesitated in pain for only a moment. Snape, he thought.

"Stupefy! Sectusempra!" Gashes appeared in the torso of a different Death Eater just as they were hit with the stunner. He or she would most likely die. Harry, however, had no time to feel remorse for he was promptly hit with the Cruciatus curse from Bellatrix LeStrange.

It was pain beyond measure; his skin was being peeled apart, every bone in his body was being broken. Tears were streaming from his eyes; his head was felt like it was imploding, he was screaming for release…

It stopped as quickly as it started. Bellatrix was getting up from the ground, having apparently been hit with a spell. Harry then noticed Ron and Hermione standing in front of him. Bellatrix got up and faced Harry's two best friends.

For a split second, Bellatrix looked as though she were going to say something, but then decided against it as she blasted Ron and Hermione both off their feet before they could utter a curse. Harry's yell of protest had almost left his mouth when he was hit with the Cruciatus again.

His throat was being ripped from his neck, his stomach was being pierced then shredded, his eyes were being spooned from their sockets, he was going deaf from his own screams, someone was cutting off every finger, every toe, slowly, his tongue was being hacked out from his mouth; it felt as though someone was carving words into his back with scalding hot barbed wire –

It stopped. Blackness was edging into his vision. It took him a few moments before he remembered what had happened.

Harry lay panting on the ground. His already pounding headache worsened as he was forcefully pulled to his feet. Harry felt like vomiting. People were talking to him… he couldn't tell who they were or what they were saying….

Suddenly, he was on the ground again. There was a struggle above him, somebody was fighting…. The shapes seemed to become clearer. The pain ebbed away from his head and Harry sat up quickly, but immediately regretted it, for he felt a wave of nausea and once again fell back onto the grass.

"Harry!" It was Hermione. She was crying freely, with Ron right behind her. Harry looked around, all the Death Eaters had gone… for the moment. He then noticed a good portion of the Order tending to the various people wounded and cleaning up the mess.

"Can you stand?" Ron asked quietly. Harry didn't open his mouth; he feared he would spill his dinner all over his friends. Instead, he attempted to sit up again, this time much slower, but wasn't very successful. Hermione and Ron grabbed him by the arms and lifted him up, then draped Harry's arms over their shoulders. He mumbled protests but was in too much pain to put up a real fight. They slowly made their way over to the assembled group of uninjured Order members, Mr. Weasley and Remus being among them. Upon seeing Harry, Remus ceased talking and rushed over to where they were standing.

"Harry, what happened? Are you hurt?" Harry tried talking, but the only sound that came out was a muffled croak.

"He was hit with a cutting curse, and the Cruciatus," Ron said quietly. Remus looked extremely distressed.

"Let me take him," he said, and pulled one of Harry's arms over his own shoulder. Remus then helped him over to the Burrow.

Harry soon found himself on a couch. Soon a familiar healer – none other than Madame Pomfrey – walked into the room. She gasped when she saw him, and pulled out various potions.

Remus was about to leave when Harry grabbed his hand. Remus stopped and turned around.

At that moment, a strange pang of loneliness and compassion had hit Harry's gut like a tidal wave. He wanted Remus to stay with him.

Harry pleaded with his eyes. Remus looked out the window, and then pulled a chair next to the couch, smiling sadly.

Harry returned the smile. Remus' eyes looked haunted and sleep-deprived.

"I'm sorry," Harry rasped suddenly. He wasn't only referring to his injuries, or deliberately putting himself in harm's way (as usual). Harry was sorry for his parent's deaths, Sirius' death, Dumbledore's death. He was sorry for his immature behavior, and all of the times he had deliberately put himself in harm's way for the sake of another, without realizing the toll it would take on himself and those that cared about him. He was sorry for not telling Remus how much he meant to him and not realizing what a great person Remus was earlier.

"Me too." It was funny how each of their simple words had such an affect on the other person.

Harry nodded, unsure of how to express himself any other way.

The older man visibly relaxed. Then he smiled and nodded back. Harry felt himself relax too, as if one of the many great weights had been lifted off of his shoulders.

Remus pulled the younger man into a gentle hug, just before Harry's pain-logged brain shut down into a blissful sleep.