Title: You've Left Now
Rating: PG-13 (rape mentioned)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter has never, nor will he ever, belonged to me. Sadly. Anyone/where you recognize belongs to the Goddess, JKR. No infringement intended.
A/N: For all of you waiting for a new chapter: it's coming!! I promise. I've gotten my muse back, and I'm on a friggin' role. Shall be up soon. In the meantime, enjoy this newly refurbished chapter.

Let's pretend you didn't die. Let's make believe you're still here and my life isn't what they've made it. Let's make like Dumbledore didn't walk in right after my Uncle finished with me and that instead I was safe with you. Let's imagine that you were still the only one who knew that painful secret and not the entire wizarding community. Let's pretend it wasn't Lupin who wiped away the tears, keeping the bad dreams at bay. Let's pretend it was you.

I was lying on the floor, just days before my seventeenth birthday. I gurgled, choking on the metallic tasting liquid in my throat. It collected in a crust on my cheek. I felt cool air on my thighs and shifted, trying to put myself in a more covered position without further aggravating any of my injuries. Closing my eyes to the room, I put my hands on my stomach while my breakfast clawed its way up. The smell of vomit assaulting my nostrils was too much, every one of my nerves was already screaming. I rolled my head to the other side and, with a small jump of astonishment, hear something crack.

But when no pain came, I realized it was the door to my room being opened and I cringed, expecting my uncle; this wouldn't be the first time he came back for seconds...or thirds. Instead, I heard an intake of breath and felt a cool, thin hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I should have checked up on you sooner, but we just thought Hedwig got lost in the storm. When she didn't show up after the skies cleared, well..." I sensed someone bending over me and curled into a tighter ball, embarrassed to be found this way. Maybe if I squeezed my eyes shut even further, it would be like he wasn't there. He shook me lightly. "Harry?" I tossed my head and mumbled. "Harry, come now. It will be alright." He patted me lightly and tried to help me stand. I crouched low and tried to curl into a vertical ball - still hiding myself - or attempting to. Remus turned and inspected Hedwig's cage, giving me time to dress. I just stood there; there was no energy in me to move. After a moment, my former professor turned and looked sadly at me. Inside, I was shredded to pieces, but instead of collapsing on the floor, like I would have preferred to, I stood still and stared into his amber eyes.

Remus tugged me to my bed and I fell forcefully, with an audible "oomph!" onto the edge of the old mattress. "I never thought the day would come that I do this, Harry, I need you to hold your arms above your head, if it doesn't hurt too much."I obeyed, not really considering what he was doing, what was happening, and he slipped a shirt over my head. It took a long time to finish pulling my clothing on, but for the first time, I was thankful to the Dursleys for giving me all of Dudley's old clothing. It was easy to slip it over my broken form and before too long, Remus was holding me close and we had apparated to the front stair outside of Grimmauld place.

Lupin told me that my trunk and Hedwig would already be here, in my old room. "You must be starving?" he winced – realizing only too late how true his words were. "I just have to go and owl the rest of the Order, let them know you're okay. They're all in a right state – particularly Molly... Then I'll come join you in the kitchen. Okay?" I nodded dumbly, trying not to take in my surroundings. Guilt was assuaging me now – I remembered Sirius and Kreacher. My heart was burning a hole in my chest, and I thought I might rather be at the Dursleys' anyway. But still, my feet carried me down the path that I already knew. I quietly tiptoed past Sirius' mother and walked downstairs to the kitchen. It was dark and dank, with no windows through which to air it out. There was a plate sitting on the table, still warm. Mincemeat pie and potatoes. I was tempted to take a bite, but the fear of retribution stilled my hands. After a while, Lupin came in. "Oh, there's nothing to eat, is there?" He looked about him, but eventually gave up and pushed the plate on the table towards me. Spearing one of the small, round potatoes with my fork, I lifted it to my lips, biting into it. The soft flesh tore between my teeth and the meat of the vegetable broke free satisfyingly in my mouth.

Lupin sat down across from me, a mug of tea clamped in his hands. "What's happened, Harry?" I glanced at him, and upon noticing I had tea, as well, become conscious of just how thirsty I was. After swallowing a mouthful of the steaming tea, I winced and glared at him.

"What do you mean?"

He ran his finger around the rim of his mug and sighed. "After finding you like that, you know that I can't just let this go. I know something's wrong. But I don't want to make any assumptions: I know from experience how harmful those can be. I'd like you to tell me what's happening, here."

I closed my eyes, wishing I could just block out the last two weeks and be back at school with Ron and Hermione. Everything had seemed to go downhill since the Department of Mysteries. Hot tears slipped down my cheeks, off the bridge of my nose and into my mouth. Lupin reached across the scrubbed wood and ran a scarred hand through my hair' the comforting gesture sent shivers down my spine, and a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the tea.

"Harry, I know part of this has to do with Sirius. And when it comes to him, I know just what you're going through. I lost him once, and got him back just to lose him a second time. I loved him. I know how much it hurts."

I sucked in a breath and pushed my plate away before running up the stairs. I didn't hear Lupin follow me when I went to his room. I tugged off my shoes and jeans with unusual fervour, causing pain to flare up in my chest. Ignoring the ache, I climbed into the bed. As I snuggled between the sheets, I drew in his scent: sweat, along with the sweet smell of lavender. I pulled the bedding tight around my body and shut my eyes. When I woke up and rolled over, Lupin lying was next to me, reclined on his pillow. It seemed he wasn't giving up his bed for me. He was reading a book, bound in red leather with a phoenix stamped neatly on the spine. He glanced quickly at me before looking back at his book, but then did a double take and smiled when he saw I was blinking blearily at him. He put the book down and rolled on his side. His chest was bare, but I could see the waistband of his pyjama pants peeking over the edge of the blanket. "Ready?"

My voice caught in my throat and I croaked, "I...I guess so."

He motioned for me to move closer, and I shifted over the soft sheets, worn down with years of use. He wrapped an arm tightly around me, my head nestling into his shoulder, "Go ahead."

I told him what I could force out, but the words were like barbed wire working their way through my throat. They tore as they came up, too painful to let out, but agonizing to hold it. I watched the bedding most of the time, looking at the uneven stitching. Eventually he pushed me away cupped my chin. "Harry, I hate to ask this, but I think you should tell someone. Did your uncle rape you?" I looked at his stomach, coated in a fine layer of honey coloured hair. I tried answer, but the wire caught, and tugged on my tonsils, making me gag lightly. "Harry?"I nodded slightly, hoping he wouldn't notice. It was barely visible, but his attuned eyes caught it. "Oh Harry!" He gathered me ever closer in his thin arms and pressed me to his torso. I could feel his heart thumping a rhythm on my face and found it oddly soothing. It made the words come up with less pain.

"I don't know why." I whispered into his chest.

He rubbed my back, "I don't think he does either."

I smiled up at him sadly, "I miss Sirius." I rolled over so my back was to him, wishing that my Godfather had just been the one to hold me, fighting the urge to get up and run away.

He sighed, hurt, "Me too." After a moment's silence, he touched my shoulder, lightly, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to. "Why...Why did you come in here?"

I thought for a few seconds, and he removed his hand, thinking I was probably asleep. I found myself at a loss. "I don't know."