Don't Dream it's Over

When Remus saw that Harry wasn't in school the next day his stomach lurched with anxiety.

What made matters even worse was that even Dudley was looking slightly perturbed, as he stalked around the playground.

He tried to convince himself that Harry had just fallen ill, suddenly. But to his avail; his nerves did not calm.

But after the boy didn't show up to school for the rest of the week and the Monday plus Tuesday of the following week, he knew for certain that something was afoot. 

Remus approached Dudley Dursley at lunchtime, on the day that marked a week since Harry's sudden spree of absence. The other teachers had been "warned" of the ravenette's long history with poor attendance but no one had ever questioned it before (as far as he knew, anyway).

"You alright, Dudley?" Remus flashed his friendly smile.

The blonde quirked an eyebrow in response, "Who're you?" he said, staring up, up, up; trying to catch Remus' eyes.

"Harry's teacher," he reasoned "I hope you don't mind me speaking of this, but I'm aware of your cousin's living arrangements, I couldn't help but notice that he's been off school for the past week. I'm rather concerned- is all."

Suddenly, Dudley's chubby red face paled into a sickening shade of white (perhaps even slightly green). Sweat formed on the boy's forehead, blond hair sticking like glue.

Well that can't be a good sign.. the brunette man said internally, teeth finding their way to gnaw at his cheek.

"Er- He's fine... uhhh-" Dudley began twiddling his thumbs, anxiety clearly rising. "Just ill."

Remus knew otherwise; the Dursley boy's eyes frantically darting around the playground. "Are you sure?"

"Mhm." he reiterated in a high pitched tone. 

"Well, that's alright then." he felt his face beginning to get hot with rage. "I need to talk to Mr Dursley about Harry's absences, anyway."

The brunette revelled in the way Dudley immediately tensed at this statement. As Remus turned around and began to slowly make his way back into the building, the blond chased after him.

"Sir, wait!" he panted, slightly out of breath. "Please don't call. You can't..." 

"Oh? Why not?"

"Just.. because! You can't."

" Well... I'm afraid that's not a good enough reason. I-"

"You don't understand, sir. My dad he will only lash out at my cousin if you call."

Remus was confused as to why Dudley was protecting (if you could call it that) Harry in the first place. From what he'd heard, the blond boy was just as bad as his mother and father.

This consideration made his heart skip a beat.

Whatever's happened must be dire if Dudley's acting like this.. Remus let out a loud gulp, attempting to swallow all his anxiety.

"Okay... okay.. but make sure he comes in soon. Or else I really will have to call." 

The pudgy blonde boy firmly nodded his head and scurried away.

Remus allowed a tiresome sigh to escape. He was utterly stumped on what to do. Did he call the authorities on the Dursleys and expose them for their abusive ways? Perhaps take matters into his own hands and go to confront them personally, with Sirius? 

Or maybe I'm just being over zealous? but he dismissed the thought, quickly, remembering what Sirius had said, even the clear apprehension shown upon  Dudley's expression. I'll talk to Padfoot later, see what he thinks. Remus agreed with himself silently, then made his way back inside to resume afternoon classes.

***

Harry felt as though he was going insane.

Throughout the whole week, he'd hardly been let out his cupboard. Only to go to the toilet or to do something that would be in convenience for his Uncle, would he be allowed to stumble his away out of the dark- away from all the cobwebs and the slightest trace of his blood's aroma floating in the claustrophobic air of his cupboard.

Dudley had been acting weird. Not his usual self at all. He never missed the chance to jeer or taunt Harry for tripping over, or pick at him for the way he would walk with a limp. The past week; nothing, whatsoever. And whilst the ravenette had been trying his best to revel in the moment, the silence from him had been unbearable.

Aunt Petunia had been no better, either. Her knowing glances making their way over to Harry at any given moment she had. It'd been making him feel, well, guilty. 

The second day Harry had been off school was when Dudley and Petunia began to act strange. Their audible gasps and worrying eyes studying him intricately. That was when he knew that his injuries from Vernon's "firm telling-off" must've been severe. He hadn't a chance to look at himself before his Uncle grabbed the back of his oversized T-shirt and pulled him back to the cupboard. Harry daren't fight back.

When the door slammed shut and he heard the familiar click! of the lock, the ravenette crawled underneath his sheets, pulling them over his head. A futile attempt to block out the already hushed voices in the kitchen.

"Stop looking at me that way, Petunia!" Uncle Vernon spat, voice already failing its urge to whisper.

"I'm sorry, dear, I know what the boy did was terrible- you know how I feel about his freakish ways too! And- and to use them on poor Dudders like that is absolutely unacceptable!" she rambled before continuing, "But, oh Vernon, he looks dreadful... You've turned him black and blue all over! And his poor little hand... Don't you think that, perhaps, you've.. gone too far this time?" letting out a sharp gasp upon recollection.

"Nonsense!" he boomed, "I won't have any of this..."

The voice began to shrink away as Harry's ears were overcome that familiar (yet equally just as shrill) ringing. His breathing quickly started to hitch in his throat. It was happening again, he couldn't breathe.

I feel sick. I can't breathe. he began to reiterate  to himself over and over.

Harry dug the nails of his, non-broken and unburnt, hand into his palms and then (as per routine) scratched mercilessly at the skin on his face, striving to ground himself.

He passed out again, crying himself into exhaustion then slowly slipping away from consciousness. Harry dreamt that his parents were still alive, he was sure his parents loved him. 

Truthfully, the boy didn't really even know what they looked like. 

The only photo he had, stuck up wonkily upon the dry rot walls, was a polaroid of his parents, Lily and James Potter (along with some other people who Harry didn't know). It depicted the summer of 1981 (which was written messily in black ink underneath the photo) they were stood in front of a lake, the sun light shimmering on the water surface. Everyone was wearing their swim suits. James' brown skin glowing in the sunlight and Lily's ginger hair doing the same. They were holding a happy baby boy (Harry knew this was himself) smiling lovingly at him.

The other people in the photograph were playing in the glistening lake water. A rather handsome man with long black curly hair that contrasted his blue orbs and pale white skin, who was holding hands with another man. His body and face were completely littered with red and silver scars, his hair was dark brown and had water dripping from it (Harry thought he looked slightly like Mr Lupin). They were both smiling at each other, the brunette's eyes creasing as he widely grinned. The third person in the picture that Harry didn't know, was blonde and rather chubby (he reminded him of Dudley). This man sat away from the others, his face looking kind of gaunt, miserable.

Harry hardly knew his parents, but one thing he did know was that they had loved him. That was clear. He knew that if his parents had never died; he wouldn't be locked up in a cupboard, he wouldn't be punched for something he couldn't even control, and he certainly would not have a broken hand covered in  second degree burns.

He dreamt of that summer and the fun he had in the summer sun.

The ravenette was woken up a few hours later by a soft knock on his door.

"...Harry?" Dudley whispered through the crack.

"Mmm?" he mumbled a tired response.

"Daddy said you're not allowed any dinner. But I brought you some snacks!"  he rustled around in his pockets and began to side some biscuits through the slits in his door. "Here."

Harry took them gratefully and began to greedily shove them in his mouth (he hadn't ate since the day Uncle Vernon.... and that had been nearly 2 days ago at this point). 

"Thank you..." he managed to croak out, still chewing desperately.

Uncle Vernon must've found out what Dudley had done, because he didn't come back to help Harry. Even after he hadn't been fed for three days straight. He spent the rest of the week locked in the derelict  cupboard either being fed nothing, or cold canned soup. 

***

On this particular day, Remus came back home with a familiar ache surging through his bones. As the full moon slowly approached, there was no  denying that he was beginning to feel increasingly fatigued.

Whilst he lay on his front in bed, Remus caught Sirius up with what Dudley had told him.

"I just... I really don't know what to do!" he groaned in frustration.

The blue eyed man entwined his pale slender fingers between Remus' scarred, battered ones.

Remus took this as a sign that Sirius was listening and continued, "I don't want to jump to conclusions but the evidence is there!" he sighed, "It's so... I dunno, tricky? I can't call home to bring attention to his absences in risk of making things worse, but I also can't just do nothing in risk of making something worse!" the brunette let out a defeated puff and rolled onto his back. "I really want to help him Padfoot.... We need to get him out of there."

Sirius gave a content smile and squeezed Remus' hand. "I know, Moony, and we will." he wrapped his arms around the latter and they fell into a deep sleep.

They woke up the next day legs entwined together. Remus didn't want to get up. The full moon was exactly a week away and it was really starting to hit him hard. But he had to go to work, what if today was the day Harry had come back? 

His movements were sloppy as he dressed that morning, mind hazy as he continued to worry about the young boy, locked away in his bedroom or, well, his cupboard- if Sirius had heard Vernon correctly last week.

By the time he finally snapped back into focus, he was at the dinner table as his boyfriend made breakfast for him. 

"There ya go, Moony." he placed the plate in front of his and kissed the brunette on the head before sitting across from him.

Remus ate steadily, mind wandering elsewhere.

Once he'd finished he gathered his work things, big adieu to Sirius then apparated to the school. Usually, as to not raise suspicion from the muggles, he would apparate down the road from school, but he really couldn't be bothered today- extended stress and an upcoming full moon was not a good mix.

Opening his briefcase, Remus began to organise the things he'd need for the schedule he had planned for today. Children started to enter the classroom bustling over a show they'd seen on the telly or a board game they'd played with their families. The brunette usually didn't mind this, but today he was on edge.

"Alright class, settle now, settle now please. I-"

But he paused, mid sentence, mouth closing.

Dudley awkwardly peaked through the door before hurrying off down the corridors to settle in his own class. All whilst Petunia Dursley peaked her head clumsily round the door frame. She made eye contact with Remus and she gave an expression that beckoned Remus to step outside the classroom. 

"I'll be back in a minute." he mumbled, ever so slightly, to his class.

"Sorry to bother you, Mr...?" she spoke first.

"Lupin."

Her eyes widened slightly, recognising his name, Remus saw the cogs turning in her head as she pieced together who he was. He knew Lily had sent her the photos of her and James' wedding (Petunia was too selfish, and caught up in their childhood dispute, to show up).

She gave a content nod, then continued,  "I'm Petunia Dursley, Dudley's mother and Harry's... Aunt."

Remus narrowed his eyes slightly, criticising her hesitation.

She went to say something then stopped herself, then: "Harry's fine. He fell ill all of a sudden last week, nothing to worry about. Well, I better be off now! I'm keeping you from your job." Petunia turned away and began to walk off.

The teacher was caught off guard, "Hey, no! Wait?!"

She spun around on her heals to look at him.

"I know he's not ill."

Remus could've sworn in that moment he heard her heart pounding out her chest.

"Wh-whatever do you mean?!" her eyes began to dart around frantically.

"You know."

Aunt Petunia pursed her lips. "He needs help, Remus."