AN: This struck me one night. I was angry at someone on New Year, it involved cutting themselves and alcohol and this sprang up in my mind when I was waking up the next morning. Listening to Avril Lavinge's 'Nobody's Home' didn't help either.

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Broken Inside

The water sounded as though it had been magnified as it cascaded down from the showerhead, hitting the body and tiles as it went in attempt to wash the dirt away. Little rivulets of water trailed down the paling skin over the slim body. Shaky hands braced themselves on the wall beneath the showerhead and would occasionally curl and uncurl into pained claws.

Harry tilted his head back feeling the water spraying him harshly in the face, his eyes closed against the onslaught and his hair plastered away from his face leaving it uncovered, his scar visible.

Steam filled the bathroom fogging up the mirror slowly and causing condensation to form on it, running down it.

Still no sound was made except for the water hitting the floor and for shallow breathing.

Blinking against the water as he lowered his head Harry winced at the way the light stung his eyes briefly. He stared at the space in front of him for a second before slowly he reached up and turned the tap anti-clockwise instantly ceasing the downfall of warm liquid.

His skin goose bumped against the cool air as he remained standing their for a second, shivering until he blinked as though disorientated and stepped out from the shower. He mechanically dried himself off with the nearest towel, standing pale and naked in the center of the room before he leaned down and picked up the trousers he had discarded. He slipped into them, zipping up and buckling the belt making no sound except for the clinks of the metal buckles meeting.

Turning to look at the fogged up mirror he reached up a hand and wiped away some of the condensation to be greeted with the image of a teenage boy staring back at him. Longish black hair swept back from a paling olive face, almond shaped green eyes with purpling skin underneath them staring back into his own from features schooled into a blank face.

As he stared at his own reflection his thoughts began to build up on one another, tumbling into one another like a hurricane; uncaring of it's consequences, unrelenting of the pain it might cause. His chest suddenly ached as his mind and heart seemed to clash.

He'd been back at 12 Grimmauld Place for a week now, his banishment to the Dursley's over for another year and yet he couldn't seem to bring himself to be even remotely cheerful about it. At least there he wasn't constantly reminded of the gaping hole his Godfather's death had created in his heart. He'd tried so hard to talk to others about this but it all seemed to some up into the same responses.

"There, there Harry. Everything will turn out alright."

"It'll get easier in time Harry."

"It's how he would've wanted to go Harry."

How easy it was for people who had never lost every parent they loved to say 'everything happens for a reason.' How easy it was for them to sigh when he woke up screaming again when he'd dreamt of Cedric's lifeless body lying on the ground, Sirius's back arching as he fell through the Veil, his mother's voice, his father's reflection falling from Voldemort's wand, hands grasping him, pulling him, tearing at him until he felt exhausted.

He could hear his breathing accelerating and felt his hands tremble violently as he braced them against the mirror, staring harder at his reflection looking for something clean, something worth dying for. All he saw was a boy shorter than he should be, a regular teenage boy who couldn't possibly be the soul hope and survival of the Wizarding World. He saw dirt and blood and Death Eaters…He could hear screaming, hexes flying through the air, cold laughter, warm laughter stopped abruptly by a hex, a shrill shriek of triumph, himself casting an Unforgivable…

…

He screamed angrily as he drew back his fist and punched the mirror so hard it shattered like a spider's web, glass flying in every direction as the majority of it tumbled as though in slow motion into the basin beneath it. Shards shattered and tinkled against the tiling around Harry's feet.

His breathing was heavy in his ears again as he stumbled slowly backwards, his movements groggy and the world seemed to be moving slowly as though he was under the effect of drugs. All he could hear was those heavy shaking breathes coming from his mouth. He fell back so he was sat on the floor, his back to the shower door and he simply sat there staring straight ahead.

The room was silent again, the last of the glass resting on the floor and slowly Harry allowed his gaze to look down on it. He could see red stains on the white tiling and he blinked as he frowned down at it. He gently raised his violently trembling right hand.

It was coated in thick crimson blood…it almost looked black.

Sirius Black.

It trickled down the back of his hand much like the water had earlier. It made an uneven pattern as different trails met creating an intricate knot-work of pain down his arm.

So engrossed was he in the blood on his skin that he never heard the door open, the various voices, the one deep slightly husky voice telling them to leave before closing the door again. Never felt someone kneel down beside him until he heard the click of their knee protesting against the movement. He let his gaze drift to his right and beside him was a solemn looking Remus Lupin.

He didn't resist or protest when his blood-coated hand was carefully cradled into two bigger, warmer ones. He simply gazed up at what once was the mirror but was now some edging of jagged glass still managing to cling onto the black backing of the mirror.

Sirius Black.

Slowly his gaze followed down the devastation of the shattered glass, over the red tainted shards until he was looking at his fist again. Then his gaze trailed up to look into the kind face of his father's child-hood friend, the only coherent thought really running through his head at the moment being 'I've never seem Lupin look that sad before.'

They stared at one another for a moment in the heavy silence of the room. Harry licked his lips that had become dry and cracked from the way he has been breathing through his mouth.

"It's broken." He said, his voice husky from lack of use.

Lupin curled the bloodied hand protectively into the cavern of his own, bringing it closer to his heart as he cleared his tight throat, his eyes stinging from watching the cub of his pack falling apart.

"I'm going to try and fix it."

Harry looked at the hands curled warmly around his and slowly the stinging ache from the cuts on the hand were starting to make their way up his arm to his chest.

"I don't think it can be put back to how it was." He said dully.

"Oh nothing can be put back together exactly how it was. It may have cracks in it but it's no less than what it was before."

A teetering shard of glass fell from the side of the sink and crashed to the floor shattering into a million different pieces and making the pair jump. They both stared down at the now miniscule pieces of glassy grit and were silent.

Remus carefully drew out his wand and pointed it at the pieces.

"Reparo."

Finite

"Nobody's Home"

I couldn't tell you why she felt that way,
She felt it everyday.
And I couldn't help her,
I just watched her make the same mistakes again.

What's wrong, what's wrong now?
Too many, too many problems.
Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs.
She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.
Broken inside.

Open your eyes and look outside, find the reasons why.
You've been rejected, and now you can't find what you left behind.
Be strong, be strong now.
Too many, too many problems.
Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs.
She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.
Broken inside.

Her feelings she hides.
Her dreams she can't find.
She's losing her mind.
She's fallen behind.
She can't find her place.
She's losing her faith.
She's fallen from grace.
She's all over the place.
Yeah,oh

She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.
Broken inside.

She's lost inside, lost inside...oh oh
She's lost inside, lost inside...oh oh yeah

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AN: Ahh, written therapy. It does us a world of good. Darker than you're probably used to seeing from me but I like it!