The morning arrived with a headache and it took more than a few moments for Harry to get his bearings. He was wrapped up in Sirius' bed sheets, fully clothed and feeling like a stunner had knocked him out. Mouth dry, he lurched off the bed and barely missed stepping on the box of potions from the previous evening. He slowly pushed them under the bed with his foot before making his way heavily to his own room to change.

What was that last night? It had certainly lived up to its promise of being enjoyable but Harry had never expected it to be so…intense. The strength of the feelings left him wary in the stark reality of day. He would avoid drinking one again he decided. Although as the feelings he had deadened the previous evening crept back over him like dark of a shadow, this conviction weakened, if only slightly.

Remus was sitting at the kitchen table when he entered it late that morning, smiling genially as Harry entered on somewhat weak legs.

'Morning, enjoy a lie in?"

A plate of cooked breakfast items was situated in front of Lupin and an open paper sat on the table to his left.

The glow of a dark mark by one of the stories caught Harry's eye and he turned away with a mumbled greeting. His hands shook slightly as he reached for a mug and he frowned, forcing them still. When he turned around, Remus was also frowning.

'Everything okay, Harry?' half a sausage precariously balanced on his fork.

'Yeah, just, didn't sleep all that well last night'.

He carefully filled the kettle with water, his arms shaking with the weight as it filled. His answer seemed to mollify Remus somewhat as he was nodding his head understandingly.

'Ah, I can somewhat sympathise'

His voice had a harsh scratch to it.

Whilst the water boiled Harry stole a long look at the other man who was continuing with his sausages somewhat slowly. He was pale and slightly thinner than Harry reckoned he used to be. Belying his words, dark circles bruised the skin underneath his eyes.

Harry realised with a pang of guilt that he didn't know when the next, or the last, full moon was, but he didn't think it was that soon. The gnawing guilt in his stomach twisted sharply at the realisation that since the Department of Mysteries, he hadn't once really considered the effect of Sirius' death on Remus.

Snape's voice sounded unexpectedly in his head, muttering biting words heavy with insinuation. Harry had heard him hurl several taunts at Sirius and Remus the previous summer. Things that had made Sirius slightly louder than usual and Remus slightly quieter. Smirking jabs like; "Keep a leash on your girlfriend Lupin, if you please, or better yet, muzzle him" and a snide "perhaps if you actually paid attention instead of mooning after Lupin like a lovesick puppy…'.

It was hardly unusual for Snape to try and rile up both or either of the men so Harry hadn't read much into anything but now, as he watched the defeated slump Remus had adopted, they resounded through his head, crisp and defined. He suddenly found himself unable to look at Lupin.

He scooped tealeaves hastily into his mug wanting to retreat now from the sad man behind him. When the hot water from the kettle hit the bottom of the mug, his anger surged out with it, both bubbling hot and threatening to spill over the edges.

Where was Dumbledore? Where were the Weasley's for fucks sake? Everyone had been pawing at Harry and left Remus to slowly fall apart.

And Harry had been left here with him.

Harry, a teenager who had just lost everything, again, left to…what? Support him? To comfort a depressed, adult, afflicted wizard with a penchant for turning into a murderous animal once a month. His Knuckles whitened around his stirring spoon and he glanced at Remus again.

The man was looking intently at the food on his plate, but Harry could see now that despite the amount piled on it, very little had actually been eaten. Shamefully he poured a dash of milk in his drink and watched it neutralise the darkness. That wasn't fair of him, he thought. It wasn't Remus' fault. He wasn't a monster. But the selfish resentment turning inside of him left him wondering if he could say the same about himself.

Three days passed with little in the way of order meetings. Although an awkward encounter with Mr. Weasley offering to bring Ron to visit had ended with Harry snapping at him. He didn't know how to explain that the thought of seeing his friends right now made him close to nauseous. He had no energy to force his smiles and cringed at the thought of Ron's awkward shoulder pats and mumbled 'It'll be all right mate's. Hermione, to his relief, was abroad with her parents and presumably unable to owl Grimmauld place. Since then, no one had approached him and he was careful to take his few meals when Remus was elsewhere. The man's deterioration made Harry uncomfortable to watch.

The house had always been quiet but now the emptiness enhanced the feeling of isolation. Harry sat in the library, amidst the bookshelves, perusing a particularly nastily looking book titled 'Potions, Poisons and Potent Philtres'. He'd spent the afternoon scouring the Black family library for some mention of "Oblivion" but so far had come up empty handed. He was now convinced the name was some sort of wizarding slang. He had even, very briefly, considered asking Remus but he didn't want to get Sirius in trouble if they were something he shouldn't have had. He was also oddly concerned that Remus might take them away. Though he hadn't been too tempted to try another, something about knowing that some sort of escape from his feelings was available if he needed it had left him comforted.

He peered at a passage about 'mind-altering potions'. "Such substances can be used to great effect when the need to manipulate the mind without the use of traceable spell work is required." Shivering, he flipped the page. It wasn't other people's minds that he wanted altering, he thought.

The door to the library creaked open and a particularly shabby looking Lupin peered inside. Harry used his half-hidden position to shove the text in his lap on a bottom shelf.

Squinting at the noise, Lupin's eyes settled on Harry's and he smiled without it reaching his eyes.

'I don't mean to disturb your reading' he started and Harry shook his head in a placating manner.

'I just thought I should mention that Arthur, Molly and the rest have asked about joining us for dinner next week. Molly said something about making sure we are fed and watered properly' he chuckled softly. 'Seven children and all she does is seem to adopt more'.

Harry didn't smile back. 'Thanks for the warning'

Remus stood for a moment, making no move to leave, despite Harry's silent begging, then seemed to steel himself and settled himself in an armchair a few feet away. Harry cringed inside. He wasn't in the talking mood.

'I know you want your space but I thought it might be a good idea.' Lupin rubbed his hands on his shabby trousers. 'I've noticed…' he hesitated 'I've noticed that you hadn't been eating as much recently.' He forced a light tone. 'A bit of Molly's fattening up might do you good'.

Harry's jaw tightened. Lupin was lecturing him on his eating habits? The man was barely eating himself, and Harry didn't need a whole lot of energy every month to survive a traumatic transformation.

'Might do you more good than me' he said carefully.

Lupin froze just for a second before rubbing his hands along his legs again.

'I suppose it might do us both some good' he conceded.

The silence stretched between them. His muscles felt tense and an unwelcome throb pulsed in his temple.

'Harry' Lupin's voice sounded pained. 'I'm sorry that I haven't been more…attentive since…'

Harry's hands balled into fists. He didn't want to have this conversation.

Lupin swallowed. 'Since Sirius died… I know I'm not the most ideal person for you right now, but I would like if you felt you could talk to me.'

Harry looked up to find the man watching him through the books.

Memories flooded him unheeded and suddenly he couldn't not remember Sirius sitting in that very chair, laughing heartily, talking easily, drinking contently. Alive.

The man who sat there now was a poor imitation of the life that should still be glowing there. Sadness seemed to drip off him like.

This man didn't feel like his godfather. This wasn't his family. He felt to Harry like the Professor who'd taught Harry in his third year, a teacher talking to a troubled student and trying desperately to gain his trust. Except even the Lupin of back then was preferable to the broken figure before him.

He was feeling the bite of anger in his stomach again and it twisted out of him like fast growing vines, wrapping around his heart and lungs and clenching hard. It was outrageous, he realised, that this man could sit there, pale and faint whilst Sirius, whose vitality had shone so brightly, was gone.

He fought to keep his voice even, his voice coming out muted and chilly. 'It's hard, Professor, to talk to someone who's falling apart himself.'

Remus grimaced. Guilt and something like hurt flashed across his expression but Harry couldn't bring himself to care. His skin felt uncomfortably hot.

'Yes, I imagine it is.' came the man's quiet voice 'I'm sorry, Harry. I hadn't realised…I will do better, you have my word.' Harry watched him rubbed one hand across the marred skin on his face wearily. 'I know that Sirius would have been—'

No.

'Sirius is dead.' Harry cut him off abruptly.

The vines squeezed him tighter. He didn't want to hear what Remus thought Sirius would want.

'He's dead and now you have no one and you're trying to get close to me to make yourself feel better. I'm not a stuffed animal, Professor.'

"Please Harry, call me Remus-'

'No' he said, the cold air of the room seeping into his voice. 'I don't want to be your friend. Find someone else to lick your wounds'.

On some level Harry knew he was being unfair but the constriction in his chest was making him increasingly claustrophobic and he couldn't help blaming the other man for it. He just felt so…angry. Everyone was trying to help him as if life hadn't changed forever but yet it fell to him to pick up the pieces when they fell apart. Why couldn't they leave him alone and sort themselves out.

'Harry, don't do this'.

Lupin's tone wasn't quite as soft now.

'Do what? You talk to me like you think you can just replace him. Well you can't. Not even close.' He fought to keep his voice from shaking. 'He was all the family I had left, I didn't ask to be stuck with you'.

The other man's face tightened.

'That's unfair. I know I can't replace him; I am not trying to replace him. Merlin Harry, I'm just trying to say that I am here for you!'

'Yeah, well I wish you were somewhere else!'

He was aware he was yelling now but it felt good to push some of his rage out and fill the room with it. He shoved himself to his feet, not even feeling the pain when he hit his elbow hard enough to bruise.

'The last thing I need right now is to be kept around by some lonely middle-aged man during his breakdown just so that he can feel like he has a friend' he snarled, shoving past the books and finding himself in front of Lupin's armchair in strides he couldn't remember taking.

Remus stood suddenly to face him, his face pink and flushed. He looked like he was trying to get a grip on his own emotions before speaking, but Harry didn't feel like giving him the chance. He just wanted to end this and get out of the room.

He didn't want to hear what Lupin had to say anymore.

The constriction inside him squeezed just once more and when Harry spoke again, his voice was quiet but his words carried like he was still shouting.

'Or maybe it's something else'

He looked Lupin in the eyes.

'Maybe you're the one trying to find a replacement? Maybe this friendly act is just so you can get me into bed with you? Is that it Remus? You want someone to fuck so you can feel loved again?'

Remus flinched like Harry had physically struck him. The flush on his face disappeared as it promptly drained of colour.

Not wanting to be there when the man got his powers of speech back, Harry pushed past him roughly and stormed up the stairs. He kept up the pace until he was at the top of the house, slamming Sirius door behind him. His legs had carried him here automatically and now his hands took over, grabbing at the box under the bed and snatching out one of the tiny glass bottles.

Without pause or hesitation, Harry jerked the cork off the top and downed the potion in one.

- A/N-

Firstly, apologies, I have no beta.

Secondly, please let me know if I should continue this story and what you think!