《Speak Now: A Remus Lupin & Harry Potter Hurt/Comfort Mentor Fic》


 Chapter 1: Murtlap

    Harry got up from bed for the sixth time that night. The back of his hand felt like it was on fire¡ªit was the third day of his second week of detention with Umbridge. The relief from the Murtlap essence had been temporary, and the searing pain kept driving him back to the sinks to run his hand under the cold water.


    He turned the faucet as high as it would go at first, then lowered the water pressure and let the gentle water cool the inflamed skin, letting out a soft sigh of relief.


    He kept thinking he should tell someone what was happening, but he couldn''t stand the thought of Umbridge knowing that she''d gotten to him. He hadn''t made a noise throughout the whole of his detention, despite the growing agony, and he didn''t want to make a noise outside of detention, either.


    But it was getting to be impossible to keep up with everything. The detentions themselves took up most of the time he''d usually use to do his homework, and now the cuts were keeping him from sleeping as well. Ron and Hermione both knew about everything that had happened, but he found himself longing to be able to confide in an adult.


    He didn''t know who to talk to, though. Dumbledore had enough on his plate. He''d been avoiding Harry, anyway, and Harry didn''t feel comfortable bringing it up to him¡ªhe just wasn''t the confidante he had once been.


    McGonagall would know what to do, but she''d also never respect his requests to keep what was happening confidential. She would be upset with him for not coming to her sooner; she would fuss and worry and make a big deal out of the whole thing, and it would just make it all seem so much worse.


    Harry thought through his other professors, but didn''t feel like he was close enough to any of them to talk to them about this, other than maybe Hagrid. Hagrid was a good friend, and an adult friend at that, but he wouldn''t be able to help, he probably wouldn''t have any advice, and he couldn''t keep a secret to save his life.


    Harry really wished he could talk to Sirius. But he couldn''t tell Sirius, for the same reason that he could never tell him about the Dursley''s abuse. Harry was worried that Sirius would take the whole situation too . . . well, seriously. He would try to come out of hiding and tear Umbridge apart. Telling his godfather would be putting him in danger.


    He thought through the other members of the Order. He trusted Ron''s parents, but Weasley''s were suffering through enough, with everything that had happened with Percy, and he couldn''t imagine them having any helpful advice for him¡ªit had been too long since they were at Hogwarts. Most of the other members of the Order, Harry just didn''t know well enough to confide in.


    He really wished his dad were alive. His dad would know what to do. Having Sirius, his dad''s best friend, had seemed like the next best thing, but . . .


    Harry turned off the faucet. Lupin had been close friends with his dad, too. He''d even been a professor at Hogwarts for awhile, so he knew how things worked among the teachers, but he wasn''t around anymore¡ªhe was removed enough from the situation that Harry could ask his advice without making it an official report.


    And Harry trusted Lupin. He''d been the best professor they''d ever had.


    Harry knew he had to be careful about what to put in a letter, but writing to Lupin felt safe, especially if he was just asking to talk. He went down to the common room to draft the letter. Maybe he could make a trip to the Owlery before breakfast tomorrow.


    His hand burned the entire time he wrote. There was a strange phantom sting that made it feel as though the words he wrote were being etched into the back of his hand, as if he were still using Umbridge''s quill.


    <hr>


    Harry''s letter didn''t say much, but it was enough to worry Remus. Enough to convince him to contact Professor Dumbledore and request an in-person audience with the boy, which the headmaster granted easily.


    Remus wrote a quick reply to Harry, requesting that he use the Floo in the Gryffindor tower to meet him at Number 12 Grimmauld Place that evening at his earliest convenience. After dinner, he settled down at the fireplace alone with a book.


    By nine at night, he assumed his message hadn''t reached Harry, but he remained by the fireplace just in case. By eleven, he was beginning to drift off.


    The last thing he expected was for Harry to stumble out of the Floo at half past midnight. Remus jolted awake and straightened his robes, doing his best to appear as though he had not fallen asleep.


    He had been drowsy, but the sight of Harry sobered him immediately. Aside from the windswept look that almost always accompanied wizards who had just traveled by Floo, Harry looked awful. His skin was pale, and there were bags under his red eyes.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Remus breathed in to ask the boy if he was alright, but somehow it didn''t seem like an appropriate question. Somehow no greeting seemed appropriate. He settled on, "I see you received my message."


    "Yes. Thank you, sir."


    There was a pause. "I have to admit, Harry, I wasn''t expecting to see you so late."


    "I hope it''s not too late."


    "No, not at all. Just a surprise."


    "I would have come sooner, but I had a detention. With Umbridge."


    "Ah." Something in Harry''s eyes told Remus not to chide him for his tendency to get into the same type of mischief the Marauders always had.


    Harry lowered his head. "Actually, that''s what I wanted to talk to you about."


    Remus sat down on the couch, gesturing for Harry to sit on the one across from him, which he did. "What did you do to earn detention?"


    "I said that Voldemort was alive."


    Remus sighed. "I''m sorry, Harry. But she''s from the ministry. You can''t expect her to be fair."


    "That''s not why I''m here."


    There was a bit of a haunted look in his eyes. "Did something happen during the detention?"


    Harry hesitated, his face turning pink. "She had me write lines."


    Remus knew better than most the power that harmful words could have. "What did she make you write?"


    "It''s not what she made me write, it''s . . . the quill she made me use."


    "The quill?"


    Harry took a deep breath, pulled back his sleeve, and held out his hand, face down.


    It took Remus quite a lot of effort not to gasp aloud. The boy''s skin was crimson and swollen around the open cuts that spelled out the words: I must not tell lies.


    Rage filled him. "How did she do this?"


    "The quill cuts the words into the back of my hand when I write them."


    A blood quill. Usually only used for special contracts. But . . . "This should have healed as soon as you were finished writing."


    "It did, the first few hundred times."


    This time Remus did gasp.


    "It''s . . . not that bad. It doesn''t even really hurt."


    "I''m surprised you can still lie, with those words cut into your hand."


    Harry winced, and Remus regretted his comment¡ªit had been a low blow.


    He took Harry''s hand gently, looking over the cuts. He gently touched the edge of Harry''s hand, beside the I, but Harry hissed and pulled his hand back. "Sorry. What have you done for the pain?"


    "Nothing this time. Hermione had me soak it in murtlap essence last night."


    "Clever girl, but we can do a bit better. I''ll be right back."


    He stood from the couch and went to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom to search for a few items. He returned with a bottle of murtlap essence and a roll of bandages.


    He sat down on the same couch as Harry, poured a bit of the essence onto a strip of the bandage, letting it soak in. "Hand?"


    Harry held it out, and Remus wrapped it with the bandage. Harry''s muscles visibly relaxed.


    "There you go. Now you should be able to sleep tonight."


    "Thank you, sir." Harry took his hand back and let his sleeve fall over his wrist.


    Remus watched him for a moment, considering his next words carefully. "Harry, who have you told about this?"


    Harry swallowed. "Ron and Hermione."


    "What adults have you told?"


    "I didn''t want to tell Sirius. I was worried he''d put himself in danger if he knew."


    Harry was probably right about that one. "You haven''t told Professor Dumbledore?"


    Harry shook his head. "I didn''t want to tell any of the professors at school. I didn''t want Umbridge to know she was getting to me."


    Remus let his breath out. He knew all too well what Harry meant. He also knew what a deep trap it was. His throat choked up a little at the thought that Harry had trusted him enough to be honest. "Harry, I need you to listen carefully. Can you do that?"


    Harry nodded.


    He put an arm around the boy''s too-small frame. "What that woman is doing to you is illegal. It''s wrong, and it''s twisted, and you deserve better. Speaking up isn''t weakness. In fact, it takes quite a lot of bravery."


    Harry didn''t say anything.


    "The ministry will not be fair to you, but even they can''t ignore this. Those marks on your hand give you power over her. If you speak up now, you can get her removed from Hogwarts."


    Harry was still silent, and Remus knew he wasn''t getting through. He''d have to speak in a language the boy could understand.


    "Do you think you''ll be the only one she hurts?"


    A short pause, then Harry shrugged.


    "You could protect other students from her."


    Harry gripped his injured hand in his good one. "I didn''t think about that."


    Remus let go of Harry, though he tousled his hair before returning to the couch across from him.


    Harry''s green eyes traveled up to meet Remus''s. "Are you going to tell Dumbledore about this?"


    Remus gave him a hard stare. "Are you?"


    "Dumbledore has been . . . ignoring me."


    Remus sighed. He knew why Dumbledore had been withdrawn from Harry. He didn''t like it, and he didn''t quite agree with it, but he did understand. He also knew that if one of the teachers was physically abusing a student, Dumbledore would want to know, regardless of any other circumstances at the time. But he knew how Harry felt as well. "Maybe you can talk to Professor McGonagall."


    Harry nodded. "I''ll think about it."


    "You do that." Remus knew there would be no more reasoning with Harry while he was as tired as he was. "I''m going to speak with Professor Dumbledore about excusing you from your classes tomorrow. You look like you haven''t slept in days."


    "No, it''s okay, I¡ª"


    "This is not up for discussion, Harry."


    Harry looked down.


    Remus softened his tone. "Go get some sleep."


    "Sir, can I . . . can I sleep here?"


    Remus blinked. The request surprised him, though perhaps it shouldn''t have. "Yes, you may."


    "Thank you." Harry adjusted himself so he was leaning back against the side of the couch.


    Remus went to fetch a blanket from the other side of the room. "I''ll send word to Hogwarts that you''re here. You can visit with Sirius before you go, but you''ll need to return by dinnertime tomorrow. I''ll let Sirius know not to wake you until at least noon, you need your . . ."


    Remus returned to where Harry was lying on the couch. His eyes were closed, and he was lightly snoring.


    He chuckled and draped the blanket over the child, tucking it in at the sides. He put a hand on Harry''s head.


    "Sleep well, my boy," he whispered, and he retired to his own room.

 Chapter 2: Omissions

    Remus couldn''t sleep until after two, and he was wide awake before seven. He kept thinking about Harry, and more specifically, why Harry had come to him.


    Remus couldn''t save Harry from Umbridge. Any of the professors at Hogwarts could, but Remus couldn''t, and Harry knew it. Dumbledore may have been distant, and the ministry might have been exercising more power than they ought, but no one would leave a professor in power after she had physically tortured a student. Remus was actually surprised Professor McGonagall hadn''t figured out what was happening already¡ªshe always was perceptive, especially with the Gryffindors.


    Still a bigger surprise was that Harry hadn''t even gone to the adult he trusted the most. Remus knew all about the offer Sirius had made to Harry on the night of their reunion¡ªSirius talked about it enough, longing for the days when he could be the one to care for Harry.


    Remus didn''t say anything¡ªit wasn''t his place, since James had named Sirius Harry''s godfather¡ªbut secretly, he didn''t think it would be a bad thing if such an arrangement didn''t become possible until Harry was already of age. The years in Azkaban hadn''t changed Sirius''s personality, exactly, but that was the problem. He acted much the way he had twelve years ago, while everyone else their age had matured and settled down.


    Harry trusted Sirius. Adored him, actually. Sirius loved Harry as well, but in a different way from how Remus did. Sirius didn''t really want to be Harry''s father; he wanted to be his friend.


    And maybe somehow, subconsciously, Harry had known that. He''d known that Sirius would react to Harry''s feud with a professor the way he would have reacted if James had fought with a teacher: treating it as a battle to be fought directly and recklessly, rather than a situation to be examined carefully in order to best advise Harry. Sirius would play the role of a friend, not a guardian. He would put himself in danger rather than do what was best to ensure he would survive to guide Harry through his next challenge.


    Harry had clearly thought this through, if he had gone to Remus instead of Sirius. But if he''d thought through the reasons why he shouldn''t talk to Sirius, he probably had already thought through his reasons for not speaking to a Hogwarts professor. Which meant that Harry had intentionally gone straight to someone who couldn''t do anything about the situation.


    That meant he was quite serious about not wanting Umbridge to know she had gotten to him. He wasn''t willing to seek help, and he didn''t want it, which raised another question: why had Harry reached out to anyone at all?


    Remus remembered the redness and inflammation of Harry''s hand, the swelling around his eyes, and the paleness of his face. He''d been exhausted, and in unbearable pain. He''d reached out for advice because he''d been driven to it by desperation. Remus grimaced.


    Harry was trusting Remus to be careful with the information and think it through completely in order to act wisely. Having Harry stay the night hadn''t been wrong, but now he had to figure out what to do about Sirius.


    As much as he hated lying to his friend, even by omission, it would be best to leave out some details for now, for his protection. It wouldn''t be for long¡ªRemus was hopeful that he had planted enough encouragement in Harry''s mind to prompt him to speak up to a professor. If he did, Umbridge wouldn''t be at Hogwarts for much longer, anyway.


    Sirius didn''t make it out to the common areas until after nine, long after Remus had already sent word to Dumbledore requesting a day''s rest for Harry, and for Dumbledore to grant the request.


    "Morning," Sirius mumbled.


    Remus brought a finger to his lips, then nodded his head over to Harry, who was still sleeping on the couch.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Sirius''s eyes widened. "In here," he whispered, and brought Remus to his room.


    Once they were both inside, Sirius closed the door behind himself. Remus kept his demeanor calm and casual, having prepared what he was going to say in advance.


    "You didn''t tell me Harry was coming here!"


    "I didn''t know until last night. Harry found himself in a bit of trouble with one of his professors."


    "Which one? Snivellus? I''ll teach him to hassle my godson, I''ll¡ª"


    "It doesn''t matter which one." Remus and Harry had both been right¡ªSirius would tear Umbridge apart if he knew the whole truth. "Harry''s been in detention for the past two weeks, and the detentions have been running past midnight for most of the days. It''s taken a toll on him, and he reached out for help. Dumbledore sent him here last night. He''s taking a day away from his classes to rest."


    "He''s suspended?"


    "No. He''s exhausted. I told him he needs to sleep until at least noon. He can have lunch with us when he wakes up, but he''s going back to Hogwarts by dinnertime."


    "I''ll never complain about the company." Sirius''s mood had brightened considerably, and Remus was thankful for that. He didn''t seem to suspect that there was any more to the situation than Remus had implied.


    It wasn''t ideal. But it was for the best.


    <hr>


    It took Harry a couple of seconds to remember where he was when he woke up. He was warm and comfortable¡ªa bit stiff from sleeping on a couch, but the back of his hand stung less than it had in days. Actually, other than a mild, dull ache, it didn''t hurt at all.


    He rolled over to face the room, and readjusted his glasses, realizing he''d fallen asleep with them still on, as well as his clothes. Sirius sat on the couch across from him, a newspaper open on his lap.


    Harry sat up straight, shoving the blanket aside. "Sirius!"


    "Hey." Sirius set aside the newspaper and scooted to the edge of the couch. "Heard you were too much of a troublemaker, Hogwarts couldn''t handle you."


    Harry allowed himself to grin, but he didn''t say anything. He had no idea what Lupin had already told Sirius, and he didn''t want to tell him any more than necessary.


    To his relief, Lupin came into the living room just then. "Good, you''re up. Sleep well?"


    Harry nodded. "I feel loads better already."


    Lupin smiled. "Well, Harry, I''ve already told Sirius everything."


    "Er . . . everything?"


    "That you''ve been having some trouble with one of your professors, serving detentions that have kept you up past midnight, and that you''re taking a day away from classes to recover from the tension and exhaustion."


    "Oh. Right."


    "And¡ª" Lupin looked him right in the eyes¡ª "that you''re going to be upfront with Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore about your encounters with the professor who''s been giving you grief, so that they don''t get worse in the future."


    Harry swallowed. "Yeah." He hadn''t decided how he was going to handle the situation. Lupin had made some good points the night before, but he wasn''t sure he was ready to play the part of a coward by complaining to McGonagall, even though he had already been a coward by going to Lupin. He didn''t feel the need to tell Lupin all of that, though.


    "And if that all fails," Sirius said, "and ol'' Snivelly is still getting on your nerves, you''re going to come talk to me, right, Harry?"


    Harry blinked. He should have realized Sirius would assume it would be Snape, if he didn''t say otherwise. "Yeah."


    Sirius winked, then he looked down, his eyes falling on the bandage. His brow furrowed, but he didn''t say anything.


    Harry held up his injured hand. "Fell off my broom at Quidditch practice. I''m fine."


    "Ah." A distant smile filled Sirius''s face, as often did when he had started thinking about Harry''s father. "Have I ever told you any stories about your father''s Quidditch games?"


    "Not nearly enough." Harry sat up a little straighter, always thankful for the opportunity to learn more about his parents, and also grateful for the change of subject.


    "Lunch first," Lupin said.


    Harry frowned. "I''m not hungry."


    "You''re a growing boy, you need to eat. Come on, into the kitchen, we''ll fix something. You two can talk while you eat."


    Harry and Sirius exchanged a shrug, and followed Lupin into the kitchen.


    They exchanged stories about Hogwarts during the meal and through the afternoon, and for the most part, Harry found himself in a better mood than he had been for months. The only distraction from his perfect day off was the fact that he still had detention tonight, which meant he was going to have to take the Murtlap-soaked bandage off and cut his hand open again.


    That was, unless he was willing to speak to McGonagall today, between dinner and detention. And he wasn''t sure he was ready to do that yet.


    But Lupin didn''t need to know that.

 Chapter 3: Lies

    Harry stumbled back into the Gryffindor common room through the fireplace. He still didn''t care much for traveling by Floo, but he felt refreshed. The unexpected visit with Sirius had been good for him, and Lupin''s encouragement left him feeling safer than he had in a long time. By the time he was bidding Sirius and Lupin farewell, he felt like he was going to be able to take their advice and seek help from McGonagall.


    The common room was empty, and he realized he was running late for dinner¡ªeveryone was already there. It was actually better that way¡ªfewer questions about why he had been traveling by Floo.


    He made his way down to the Great Hall, where he sat down across from Ron and Hermione. "Sorry I''m late."


    Ron''s eyes widened when he sat down. "Where have you been all day?"


    "We were worried about you, Harry!" Hermione cried. "We never saw you come back from detention, and then Ron said you were missing from your bed this morning and you never came to class. Is everything okay?"


    Harry nodded. "I went to see Lupin last night after detention. It was late, so he had me stay and have a lie in this morning."


    "Lucky," Ron said.


    "He was only there because his hand was bleeding so badly, Ronald," Hermione hissed.


    "Oh, right. Sorry, mate." Ron rubbed the back of his neck, his ears turning red.


    "What did Lupin say?" Hermione asked.


    "That I should tell Dumbledore or McGonagall about my detentions with Umbridge."


    She nodded "You should listen to him."


    Harry swallowed, his cheeks growing a bit warm. He had decided to see if he could catch McGonagall between dinner and detention, but he still wasn''t sure what he was going to say.


    He wasn''t hungry enough to make it through the rest of the meal, so he left the Great Hall early. It was just as well, because he''d have to be quick if he wanted to make it to detention on time. A small part of him hoped that maybe if his conversation with McGonagall went well enough, he wouldn''t have to go to detention at all.


    Harry waited outside of McGonagall''s office, heart pounding against his chest. He didn''t have long to wait.


    McGonagall''s eyebrows raised when she saw him standing outside of her own office. "Is everything alright, Mr. Potter?"


    He took a deep breath. "I came to talk to you about Umbridge."


    Her voice was sharp. "I cannot get you out of detention, if that''s what this is about. And I thought I told you I didn''t want to hear another word of complaint about it."


    He felt himself deflate. There was no point in arguing. The fight had finally been taken out of him.


    Her brow furrowed. "Come in, Potter."


    He suppressed a wince, realizing he must have looked a lot more dejected than he realized, and followed her into her office. She sat down at her desk and gestured for him to have a seat across from her.


    "Biscuit?" She held out a tin.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    He shook his head¡ªhis stomach was already turning somersaults.


    This time, McGonagall didn''t push the issue. She set the tin aside. "You believe Professor Umbridge has been unfair to you."


    He grasped his injured hand with his good one on his lap, covering the marks.


    "And I agree with you. She has."


    Harry looked up to meet her eyes. Did he dare hope she already knew what was going on?


    "But I''m afraid this is a lesson you need to learn. The ministry will not be fair to you. I warned you not to upset that woman."


    "I didn''t try to¡ª"


    "Did you or did you not speak out of turn in her class?"


    "I did, but¡ª"


    "You''re smarter than that, Mr. Potter. If you can''t control yourself, I''m afraid the consequences are deserved."


    Harry clenched his teeth. He had thought he was being brave in keeping silent about what Umbridge was doing to him. He realized now that speaking up required quite a bit more bravery, and it was more bravery than he had.


    It was too risky. Lupin insisted that other professors at the school had the power to stop Umbridge, but if Harry spoke up and she wasn''t stopped, the whole situation would be a hundred times worse. He shuddered, remembering third grade, when he''d made the mistake of talking to a teacher about Dudley''s bullying. It had been the worst year of primary school.


    One more detention. He could get through one more detention. After that, he''d stay quiet in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He wouldn''t give Umbridge a reason to give him detention again. And even if she decided to terrorize anyone else, which he doubted, they''d all get through this year¡ªno Defense Against the Dark Arts professor ever lasted longer than one year, anyway.


    "I understand, professor," he said. "Sorry to bother you."


    McGonagall''s eyes narrowed. "There''s something else on your mind."


    He must have been looking dejected again. He really needed to work on keeping a straight face. "I''m going to be late for detention." He stood from his seat, letting his sleeve fall over his injured hand.


    "Potter . . . what is she having you do?"


    Harry swallowed hard. All he had to do was to show her his hand, and she would understand. But he couldn''t bring himself to do it. Besides, McGonagall was right. If he couldn''t control himself, he deserved what he got.


    "Writing lines," he said.


    "And that''s all?"


    "Yes."


    A short pause. "What are you writing?"


    "I must not tell lies."


    Her expression softened a little, sympathy filling her eyes. "Be careful."


    He nodded and left her office, a cold weight settling in the pit of his stomach.


    Harry was five minutes late for his detention with Umbridge. She gave him a sickly smile as he sat down at the desk without being prompted.


    "I''m going to let your tardiness slide this time, Mr. Potter," she said in her irritatingly high voice. "But mark my words, if you should ever arrive late to one of my detentions again, I will be forced to make sure you understand the impropriety of lateness as well as dishonesty."


    He didn''t know what to say to that. She was already have him carve into his own flesh¡ªit wasn''t as if she could threaten much worse.


    She seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. "Do not think for a moment I cannot worsen this punishment, Mr. Potter. As High Inquisitor, I have quite a lot of work to keep me busy into the night, and we can continue as late as it takes for the message to sink in. And if all else fails, I''m sure I can think of some additional enchantments to add to that quill."


    "This is our last detention," he couldn''t help but say.


    "So it is," she said, but there was a sick gleam in her eyes.


    It had never struck him until this moment how much she truly enjoyed this¡ªhis pain, his helplessness, his desperation. Harry had been right all along. This was between himself and Umbridge. He was glad he hadn''t said anything to McGonagall. Really, he never should have even told Lupin.


    He picked up the quill and began to write. He almost hissed when the cuts first reopened, but he managed to keep from making a sound.


    As the night wore on, the words ceased to sound like words in his mind, the letters losing their meaning as anything other than the shape of his cuts, the shape of the searing gashes in his flesh. It was easier to think of them as wounds than as words.


    Besides, the words hurt almost as much.


    I must not tell lies.


    The irony wasn''t lost on him. He was being forced to lie.


    I must not tell lies.


    He couldn''t tell the truth about Voldemort. He couldn''t tell the truth about Umbridge.


    I must not tell lies.


    The message was sinking in¡ªthe opposite of the words on the page, but it was the message Umbridge had intended all the same. He would tell lies. His cowardice demanded it.


    I must not tell lies.


    I must not tell lies.


    He must tell lies.

 Chapter 4: Dilemma

    Remus kept his eyes on the news for the next few days in eager anticipation of Umbridge losing her job at Hogwarts and possibly being put on trial. He also paid close attention to the owl post as well, knowing he might be called in as a witness.


    There was nothing.


    For the first couple of days, he assumed Harry might have procrastinated a bit; after that, he wondered if it was taking time to collect evidence, although that seemed impossible, given Harry''s injuries.


    On Monday¡ªfour days after he''d received Harry''s initial message, three days after he''d let the boy spend the morning at Grimmauld Place¡ªhe sent a quick to Harry to make sure he was alright. Harry didn''t write back.


    On Wednesday, Remus sent a message to Dumbledore to request another in-person visit. Dumbledore granted the request without asking why. That was one thing about Dumbledore that Remus appreciated¡ªwhen he chose to trust someone, that trust was complete and absolute.


    <hr>


    Harry didn''t get back to Remus until Friday, and on Friday evening, he didn''t stumble in through the Floo until after eleven.


    Remus had camped out on the couch with a book. He expected Harry might not show up until late, so he made some extra coffee to keep himself from falling asleep this time.


    "Sorry I''m late, sir, I was waiting for the common room to clear out."


    Remus set his book aside. "Not at all, Harry. Have a seat."


    Harry sat down on the couch across from Remus. He did look a lot better than he had the last time Remus had seen him. He was better rested, and there was more color in his cheeks. He still didn''t look like the spirited, carefree young teenager that Remus had met on his first day of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he didn''t look nearly as bad as he had a week ago.


    "How is your hand doing?"


    "Fine."


    "May I see?"


    Harry slowly put out his hand, which Remus took and looked over. It looked like it had been nasty, but it was healing now. The scabs were starting to peel, and white scar tissue traced out the letters beneath. It was going to be quite the unique scar, but then, that wasn''t a first for Harry.


    "I trust you''ve had no pain for awhile?"


    "No, sir."


    "And no trouble with Professor Umbridge?"


    "No, I finished out the week of detentions, and I haven''t spoken out in her class since."


    Remus raised an eyebrow. "Have you told anyone what she did to you?"


    Harry''s cheeks turned pink. "I''m sorry I ever bothered you with all of this, it really wasn''t as bad as I made it out to be."


    "Harry."


    "I shouldn''t have gotten you involved, it''s between Umbridge and myself¡ª"


    "Harry, do you remember what we talked about?"


    "About what?"


    "About how you might not be the only person Professor Umbridge hurts, and speaking up could serve to protect others, not just yourself."


    Harry shook his head. "I really don''t think she''d use that quill on anyone else, sir. It seems like she''s targeting me."The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "And you''re not worth protecting?" Remus frowned. "So you didn''t get help. Despite everything we talked about, you suffered through that last detention."


    Harry blinked. "Are you upset?"


    "That you ignored all of my advice? No, but I''m disappointed."


    Harry deflated before Remus''s eyes.


    Remus winced and came over to sit on the same couch as him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He knew those had been harsh words, but they usually only hurt a child when they came from someone the child admired¡ªRemus had underestimated Harry''s view of him. "We should speak to Professor McGonagall."


    "Please, no. It doesn''t matter, I''m finished with detention."


    Remus sighed. He found himself in a difficult moral situation. Of course, if he were still a teacher at Hogwarts, he''d be a mandated reporter, required by law to inform authorities of any and all child abuse. His training and experience had taught him that mandated reporting was not just legal¡ªit was moral. If Harry, or any other student, were to find themselves at Umbridge''s mercy again, their blood would be on Remus''s conscience.


    On the other hand, he wasn''t convinced that Harry would appreciate his intervention. That was what made this situation so complex. Normally, Remus would prioritize Harry''s safety far above any friendship he might have built with the boy, but it was that friendship that had caused Harry to confide in Remus at all.


    Remus doubted that Harry typically spoke to any adult if he was worried he was being mistreated or in danger, and he did seem to attract a disproportional amount of trouble. Remus liked to think that he had helped Harry already, by cleaning his wounds and giving him someone to talk to. Going to Dumbledore or McGonagall now might save Harry from Umbridge, but it might also rule out Remus as a future confidant for Harry.


    But the more Remus thought about it, the more the mandated reporter in him won out. It was worth the risk of losing Harry''s trust, especially since that trust loss would be temporary. Harry was almost of age¡ªhe''d figure out soon enough that Remus had done it for his own good, and for the safety of other students. Besides, once Harry realized that telling an adult could lead to the removal of the abuser, he''d know it was safe to speak up more in the future.


    "I''m sorry, Harry, but I''m going to speak with Professor McGonagall."


    "But¡ª"


    "No, Harry. My mind is made up."


    "She won''t help. She''ll say I deserve it for speaking out in class."


    Remus''s eyes widened. "You did speak to her?"


    Harry looked down. "Yes."


    "And you told her about the lines?"


    He nodded.


    "What did she say?"


    "She agreed that Umbridge was being unfair, but she said I couldn''t expect the Ministry to be fair, and that she had told me not to upset Umbridge."


    Remus stared at Harry for a moment. That didn''t sound right to him at all. He needed to speak to McGonagall as soon as possible. "I want you to head back to Hogwarts, Harry. Get some rest, lie in tomorrow."


    "Yes, sir."


    "And I need you to trust me. Can you do that, Harry?"


    "I do trust you. But I think Umbridge has the power to do what she wants, and I don''t think McGonagall can stop her. Umbridge has the Ministry on her side."


    "The Ministry wouldn''t allow that." He pointed to Harry''s hand.


    Harry made a face like he was unsure, but Remus stood, gesturing for Harry to stand also, and walked him over to the Floo.


    "Sleep well, Harry."


    "Thanks." He stepped into the fireplace, and gave Remus one last weak smile before he was off.


    <hr>


    Remus made a Floo call to McGonagall the next morning before breakfast.


    "Professor," he said, looking up at her.


    "Please, Remus, call me Minerva. You''ve been an adult for quite some time."


    "Yes, of course." Even after his year of teaching at Hogwarts, he still had to be reminded sometimes. "I''m here to speak to you about Harry."


    She nodded. "Yes, Albus mentioned you had met with him."


    "I did, and I felt I must speak with you immediately. It''s about Dolores Umbridge."


    Her face grew grim at the mention of the name. It was the look anyone who had ever been her student knew to fear.


    "I take it you already know."


    "That¡ª" She pressed her lips together and shook her head. "Yes, many students have spoken to me about her. Harry was one of them."


    "Then you know she mustn''t stay at Hogwarts."


    "I know, but there is nothing I can do. She has the full support of the Ministry in all of her methods."


    That was the last thing Remus was expecting to hear. "Really? Even after the way she''s treated Harry?"


    "Harry is the last person the Ministry cares to protect."


    "But surely, given the circumstances¡ª"


    "The Ministry won''t care about that."


    Remus''s eyes widened. He had been trying to keep up with the news, but he hadn''t realized the Ministry had grown quite that corrupt. "I see."


    Her eyes saddened. "I''m keeping my eye on the situation, Remus. And I''m glad to hear Harry is speaking with you."


    Remus felt his stomach turn. Harry might not be speaking with him anymore, now that Remus had broken his trust on multiple levels.


    "I''m afraid need to get to the Great Hall."


    "Of course."


    "Keep in touch, Remus. I hear far too little from the Order."


    "I will."


    With that, he ended the call, feeling more helpless than he had in a long time.

 Chapter 5: Victims

    Lupin''s disappointment burned.


    Harry felt it when he stepped back into the Gryffindor common room, and it weighed on him when he settled into bed. He felt much like he had back in the third year, when Lupin had confiscated the Marauder''s Map from him and scolded him for risking his life and dishonoring his parents'' sacrifice. He was surprised, then, how much more a lecture could hurt coming from someone who he respected. Snape didn''t hold back with his cruel words, but they never stung nearly as much as Lupin''s careful, gentle chastisement.


    He wasn''t sure what Lupin was going to do next, and thinking about it kept him awake, tossing and turning. He was pretty sure Lupin would talk to McGonagall now, and he couldn''t imagine it going well.


    But what followed in the next few weeks didn''t give Harry any clues about what Lupin might have done or said. Umbridge was as horrible and unhelpful in class as she ever was, but he couldn''t tell whether she was getting worse because of something he did, or if it was just a natural escalation. He avoided any more detentions with her, but he would have happily accepted another nine detentions over what did happen.


    Banned from Quidditch. For life.


    Harry considered reaching out to Lupin, but he knew it wouldn''t help. There would be nothing he could do. He did send a message by Owl, as he''d been occasionally writing to Lupin along with writing to Sirius, but there was no point in meeting face to face for this. If Harry were injured, Murtlap could help. But there was nothing that could have helped with this.


    He was able to distract himself with other matters over the holidays, but there were new complications when classes resumed. Umbridge released a new order that forbade Hogwarts professors from speaking with their students about anything other than their academic subject areas.


    It was a frustrating development, though far from the worst they''d had. At least it lead to some funny stories in classes. Harry''s favorite was when Lee Jordan reminded Umbridge that she wasn''t allowed to tell him off for playing Exploding Snap in class, because it wasn''t part of the curriculum.


    A few days later, Harry passed Jordan in the corridors.


    He was smiling a bit¡ªhe almost always was¡ªbut Harry knew what Jordan''s smile looked like, and this wasn''t it. The corners of his eyes twitched just a bit, and his breathing was a bit labored. Harry glanced down at his hand. He''d wrapped it in a scarf. The fabric of the scarf was already red, so anyone who wasn''t looking for it might not notice that blood was seeping through.


    Jordan passed by, giving Harry a quick nod. Harry glanced around him to make sure no one was around, then turned to call after Jordan, "What did she make you write?"


    Jordan stopped short, whirling to face Harry. "How did you know?"


    Harry held out his own hand. "I must not tell lies."


    Jordan''s eyes widened when he saw the mark, then he smirked and glanced down at his own hand. "I must behave."


    Harry winced. The shorter sentence meant more repetition over the same areas¡ªno wonder he was bleeding so badly. And internally, he was kicking himself. Lupin had been right. Harry had been so convinced that he would be Umbridge''s only victim, but Lupin had known better. This was Harry''s fault.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    "It''s gonna be a wicked scar," Jordan said. There was humor in his voice and a curl to his lips, but the pain in his eyes ruined the effect.


    Harry made himself smile along, but his eyes fell back on the bloodied scarf. Jordan had been headed away from the common rooms, so maybe . . . "Are you going to tell Dumbledore?" Harry asked.


    Jordan shrugged. "Don''t see what good it would do."


    "Where are you going?"


    "Figured I''d go outside and get some snow. It''s better than an ice pack."


    "Yeah, but not as good as Murtlap."


    Jordan''s eyebrows raised. "Snape mentioned that stuff in Potions a couple of weeks back. I''ll have to give it a go. It''s good?"


    "Total relief. Soak a bandage in it and wrap up your hand, it''ll let you sleep without pain."


    Jordan smiled, a real smile this time. "Thanks, mate."


    Harry nodded, and they each went their separate ways. His heart pounded hard against his ribcage as he thought about everything Jordan had said and everything Lupin had told him weeks ago. Guilt tore at his insides. Maybe he couldn''t have prevented this, but he could have at least tried.


    Harry was halfway to the common room before he turned on his heel and headed to McGonagall''s office instead.


    He didn''t even knock. The door was slightly open, and he ran right into the room.


    She looked up from her work at her desk, peering at him over the upper rim of her glasses. "Mr. Potter¡ª"


    "Professor, I''m sorry, but you have to do something about Umbridge."


    Her eyes narrowed. "Is this about Quidditch again? Because I assure you¡ª"


    "It''s not about that, it''s about Lee Jordan."


    "I''m aware he received detentions for speaking out in class."


    "It wasn''t just detention. She hurt him. She made him write lines with a quill that cut the words into the back of his hand and used his blood for ink."


    "A blood quill?"


    "Yes."


    For a moment, she said nothing. She just sat at her desk, quill frozen in her hand, mouth slightly open, eyes wide.


    "I¡ªI''m sorry, Professor."


    She set down her quill, and her lips pressed together into a thin line. "Mr. Potter, show me your hand."


    He stammered. "Professor, I¡ª"


    "Your hand, Potter."


    He swallowed and held out his right hand, palm down. She took his hand in hers, frowning at the scar. He braced himself for the lecture, the explosion, the scolding of his lifetime.


    Instead, her head hung as she let go of his hand. "I hope you will forgive me."


    "Huh?"


    "I know I am a strict professor, Harry, and I''ll never apologize for pushing my students to their best, both behaviorally and academically. But for anything I might have done or said that made you feel you couldn''t speak to me about this . . . for that, you have my sincerest apologies."


    He breathed in to tell her it had had nothing to do with anything she''d said, but he stopped himself. It wouldn''t have been quite true. "I, er, I forgive you."


    "Is this why you went to visit Remus Lupin during the last term?"


    "Yes. Profess¡ªI mean, Mr. Lupin told me to tell you about what was going on, but I didn''t think Umbridge would do this to anyone else." Now, though, Harry understood how Lupin had felt. He couldn''t imagine waiting to see if Umbridge might hurt someone else other than Jordan¡ªLupin had been compelled to act on account of Harry alone.


    "I''ll speak to Dumbledore right away, and we''ll file a report. You may need to speak in court, along with Mr. Jordan."


    "Okay." He wasn''t looking forward to that, but it would be worth it, if it could actually protect other students from Umbridge.


    "You''ll need to make a statement. I''d like for you to visit Mr. Lupin again, to help prepare your speech."


    "Tonight?"


    "Yes. I believe it would be best for you to be prepared as soon as possible."


    He swallowed hard.


    She stood from her desk. "It would be wise to complete your homework as early as possible this evening, Mr. Potter, seeing as you''re going to be quite busy after dinner."


    "I will." Harry didn''t like the idea much, but Hermione would be thrilled.


    McGonagall stared at him for a moment, then said, "Please never hesitate to speak with me if another professor¡ªor student¡ªis treating you in this way. You will never be punished for doing so. However, if I ever again discover you have suffered unnecessarily when you could have sought help . . ."


    "I understand, professor."


    She nodded, and walked him out of her office, where they parted ways.

 Chapter 6: Confrontation

    About a month after Harry returned to school after his winter holiday, a letter arrived at Grimmauld Place from Hogwarts. Remus took it into his room, away from prying eyes, and read it over:


    Remus,


    My deepest apologies for misunderstanding you when you came to speak to me about Harry Potter''s detentions with Dolores Umbridge. Harry spoke with me about the blood quill today. I am drafting a child abuse report to the Ministry, and I will send it off by the end of the night.


    It is highly likely that Harry will have to speak before the Wizengamot. With your permission, and if you are willing to help with his testimony, Harry will be coming to speak with you this evening. Physically, he is doing well, but he will benefit from your support.


    Regards,


    Minerva McGonagall


    Remus''s heart raced. He had messed up. He should have stayed and talked to McGonagall longer. He could have helped get rid of Umbridge sooner. He should have known that no matter how corrupt the Ministry had become, they wouldn''t allow child torture. It wasn''t even that it was a moral issue¡ªit would just look bad if word got out.


    But if Harry had finally spoken with McGonagall and told the whole truth . . . either something terrible had happened to him, or Remus had been right. There had been another victim.


    Either way, Harry would be here pretty soon, and once the report was filed, the media would be all over this. Whether it was tonight when Harry spoke to them, or in next week''s papers, Sirius would find out what had happened. It was best he heard it from Remus first. This was going to be a tough conversation, but he couldn''t put it off any longer.


    Remus sent off a response to McGonagall, then walked out into the living room to find Sirius reclining on the couch with a newspaper. "Sirius, we need to talk."


    Sirius put down the paper and sat up straight. "Is this about the boggart in the hall closet? Because I''ve tried getting rid of it ten times, and every time¡ª"


    "No, no." Remus took a seat on the couch across from Sirius. "This is about Harry."


    Sirius''s eyes widened, and he slid up to the edge of his seat. "Harry. Is he alright? What happened?"


    "He''s fine now. We''ll see him tonight, he''s coming by Grimmauld Place."


    Sirius raised his eyebrows. "You''re sure he''s alright?"


    Remus breathed in to affirm it, but he realized he wasn''t entirely sure that Harry hadn''t been hurt again, and he didn''t want to be guilty of any more lying than necessary. "Did he ever talk to you about Umbridge?"


    Sirius swore.


    "Ah. I''ll take that as a yes. But I''m assuming he didn''t tell you what she did to him during his detentions?"


    "Lines, wasn''t it? The toad, I should¡ª"


    "Lines with a blood quill."


    Sirius''s face turned pale. "No."If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "McGonagall is filing a report, and¡ª"


    "I''ll kill Umbridge!" Sirius stormed out of his seat and ran for the Floo. "I''M GOING TO KILL HER!"


    Remus whipped out his wand. "Locomotor Mortis!"


    Sirius stumbled, and he fell to the floor. "Unlock my legs, Remus!"


    "No." Remus kept his wand in his hand, ready to stop his friend if he managed to lunge for the fireplace again. "Not until you promise you''re not going to run off and do something reckless."


    "She hurt Harry! She made him bleed!"


    "She''ll do a lot worse to you if you show yourself."


    "I don''t care!"


    "You should care."


    "Why?"


    "Because Harry cares. What would it do to him if something happened to you?"


    Sirius wriggled over to the coffee table, where he reached up and grabbed his wand before Remus could stop him. He unlocked his legs and jumped to his feet, though he swayed, and pointed his wand at Remus. "She hurt my godson. I dare you to stop me."


    "He''s okay, Sirius. He''s got a scar, but he''s not in pain anymore."


    "A scar? When did this happen?"


    Remus took a deep breath. "Months ago, Siri. He only just told McGonagall today."


    Sirius swung around to sit up straighter, his jaw dropping, eyes piercing Remus''s. "You knew about this months ago?"


    Remus swallowed. "Harry came to talk to me when it was first happening. He was in pain, and I gave him a bandage soaked in Murtlap. He spent the next morning with us, you remember."


    "He told me it was a Quidditch injury."


    "On my orders." That wasn''t exactly true, but Remus didn''t want Sirius to be upset with Harry.


    Sirius shouted a curse at Remus, but Remus jumped to his feet and easily blocked it. He threw another one, and Remus disarmed him. Sirius grabbed Remus by the front of his shirt. "How could you keep this from me?"


    Remus locked eyes with Sirius. "Because I knew you would react like this."


    "Like what?"


    "Trying to run off on some quest for revenge!"


    "Why didn''t you? Are you a Marauder or not?"


    "I wanted what was best for Harry."


    "Lot of good you did him!" Sirius pushed Remus back and began to pace. "Left him in that place with that¡ªthat¡ª"


    "I know, and I feel terrible about it. There were some miscommunications."


    "Why didn''t you run in there and kill her when you first found out?"


    "You think I wasn''t tempted?"


    "Then why didn''t you?"


    "This is a real question?" Remus''s breath caught in his throat. "Okay. For one thing, I would have been arrested, and that wouldn''t have done Harry any good. For another, he didn''t want me to storm in there and fix his problems. For another, morally speaking, it''s¡ª"


    "What if it had been James? Hmm? You''d have just let Umbridge go on hurting him?"


    "Harry is not James. And even if he were, there''s a right and wrong way to do things."


    Sirius scoffed in disgust. "What happened to you in the twelve years I was gone?"


    "I grew up. Apparently that''s not something that happened to you."


    Sirius lunged, throwing a punch.


    Remus easily ducked out of the way. He''d have apologized for his impulsive comment if Sirius hadn''t just proven it was true. "I don''t want to put you in a Body-Bind, but I will if you make me."


    "I don''t even know who you are. You knew about this for months, and you didn''t tell me."


    "And your reaction is proving I was right to keep it from you."


    "Well, how else should I react?"


    "Like an adult! That''s why Harry came to me, Sirius. He needed a mature adult, and he couldn''t trust you to act like one."


    "Friendship and loyalty are more important than maturity, Remus, I''ll never apologize for that!"


    "And that''s why you''ll never be his guardian!"


    The words hung in the air between them. The look on Sirius''s face was as if he had just been stabbed in the gut. Guilt flooded through Remus''s veins.


    "Oh, Siri . . . I didn''t mean . . ."


    "Yes you did."


    "But . . . I didn''t¡ª"


    "Yes." Sirius trudged across the room to pick up his wand and put it in his pocket. "You did."


    Remus swallowed hard. The irony of the situation wasn''t lost on him. He was one to talk about maturity, when he''d just made a careless remark like that. "I am sorry."


    Sirius looked down, his jaw pulsing. "Harry''s coming here?"


    "Yes. For emotional support, and to get help with his testimony."


    "Well, that sounds like a job for an adult. I''ll be in my room." He turned to go.


    "He''s going to want to see you, too."


    "Will he."


    "He loves you, you know. He''d rather have his hand sliced open night after night than even risk putting you in danger."


    "Well, that''s not very mature."


    "He''s fifteen, Sirius. He doesn''t have to be." Remus knew that would be another cutting comment, but it had to be said.


    Sirius just shook his head and left the room.

 Chapter 7: Sirius

    And that''s why you''ll never be his guardian!


    The words echoed in Sirius''s mind over and over again, stinging and burning. He didn''t think he had been in this much pain and distress since Azkaban. As Sirius paced in his room, he tried to put his finger on what bothered him the most.


    He felt betrayed and rejected, that part was obvious. Harry had gone to Remus rather than to Sirius. Sirius wracked his brain to try to figure out if he''d done something wrong, something to upset Harry, something to lose his trust. Harry had always come to him when his scar was hurting, and Sirius liked to think they were developing a father-son relationship. What else might Harry be hiding from?


    Deception was the common thread that ran through everything that had happened, and Sirius couldn''t deny that that dishonesty hurt. Harry had not only refused to tell Sirius the truth all those months ago; he had lied outright about where the injury on his wrist came from. Remus had asked him to do so. They had both hidden the truth about Umbridge''s abuse for months.


    Meanwhile, Remus had also withheld his true feelings about Sirius''s chances of adopting Harry. Remus had clearly been sitting on this opinion¡ªthat Sirius would never be Harry''s guardian¡ªfor some time. Sirius knew all about making an outburst in a moment of anger. The words that came out might be exaggerations, and they might be harsher than deserved, but at their core, those outbursts were always honest.


    So maybe dishonesty wasn''t the problem. Honesty was.


    But that couldn''t be what was bothering Sirius the most. Certainly, the honesty hurt more than the dishonesty, but could he really be this angry, this broken, because his best living friend had been honest with him?


    Maybe he was. Remus had essentially said that he considered Sirius to be a child. He''d implied that Sirius didn''t care about Harry. How dare he? All the while, Remus was allowing Harry to be abused. Sirius would have put a stop to it. He''d have killed the toad. And then Harry would have been safe, and . . .


    Remus''s line of thinking crept into Sirius''s thoughts, despite his internal resistance. Harry would have been safe from Umbridge, and meanwhile, Sirius wouldn''t have been arrested and probably sent to Azkaban.


    But that didn''t matter. Sirius didn''t care about that. Who cared what happened to him? As long as Harry was safe and unharmed, nothing else mattered.


    You should care. Because Harry cares. What would it do to him if something happened to you?


    Sirius paced, running a hand through his hair. "Safe" was such a relative term. The night the Potters were killed, Sirius had been "safe" from Lord Voldemort, but he''d spent years wishing he hadn''t been. Wishing he could take their place, willing to give anything to do so. No, he hadn''t been safe. In many ways, James and Lilly gotten the easier fate that night. They''d passed into the next world, while Sirius was left in this one, crippled by the pain of losing them.


    Harry was all Sirius had left of them. That made him desperate to protect his godson . . . but maybe Harry felt the same way about Sirius.


    He''d rather have his hand sliced open night after night than even risk putting you in danger.


    The thought of that made Sirius sick to his stomach. He and Harry made quite the pair¡ªeach willing to sacrifice so much of themselves for so little benefit to the other. Harry must have known how Sirius would react; Sirius wasn''t exactly subtle. If the thought of Harry allowing himself to be hurt made Sirius sick to his stomach, he couldn''t imagine how Harry had felt. Maybe Harry wasn''t upset with Sirius; maybe he really just couldn''t trust him not to do something reckless and leave Harry alone to mourn his death or imprisonment.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    That''s when it hit him. Sirius wasn''t upset with Remus for being honest. He was upset because Remus was right.


    Molly Weasley had once tried to say the same thing to him, he realized now. She''d said it in a way he never could have interpreted without Remus''s translation. She had asked whether Sirius was clear on the fact that Harry wasn''t James. But if Sirius had seen Harry as James, the pain of losing James would have lessened. But it never did. Sirius was quite clear that Harry wasn''t James¡ªthat wasn''t the problem. The problem was that when James and Lilly asked him to be Harry''s godfather, he''d been too young to have any idea in his mind about what parenting meant. At the time, he knew how to be a friend to a peer, and he hadn''t learned anything else since.


    Sirius had made no mistake about who Harry was. What Sirius was still trying to figure out was who he was.


    Remus had a point about the time Sirius had spent in Azkaban. He hadn''t helped to raise Harry as a two-year-old, as a five-year-old, as an eight-year-old, and so on. He had never been in a position of authority over a young person, and he had never practiced relating to someone who wasn''t a peer. He saw Harry as a friend, or maybe as a younger brother.


    Harry had friends, like Sirius had had friends at his age. But the people who were the age Sirius had reached now weren''t the people who had encouraged their recklessness and Marauder-like behavior. The adults had held firm boundaries, forced them to think about rules and consequences, which, if Sirius was honest with himself, had probably saved their lives on a few occasions. That''s who Sirius had to be to Harry.


    A rustling came from the living room. Sirius opened the door to his own room just a crack, listening in on the conversation.


    "Ah, Harry. Good to see you at a reasonable hour."


    A light laugh. "Yeah. McGonagall let me use the Floo in her office so I didn''t have to wait for everyone to leave the common room."


    "Well, that''s good. Why don''t you have a seat? . . . How are you doing, Harry?"


    "Alright. Did McGonagall tell you what happened? With Lee Jordan?"


    "Yes, she did. I was so sorry to hear about it."


    "He''s a great guy, he didn''t deserve that."


    "Neither did you, Harry."


    A short silence.


    "Now, about that testimony. I think the best thing for us to do . . ."


    Sirius closed the door. His heart pounded hard against his chest. He wanted to storm out there and give both Harry and Remus a piece of his mind about their having deceived him. He wanted to throw himself at their feet and apologize. He wanted to swear to do better. He wanted to demand what they wanted from him.


    But that was what Sirius wanted. None of that was what Harry needed. And if Sirius was ever going to be Harry''s guardian¡ªhowever doubtful it might be that he would mature to the point of earning his trust before Harry was of age¡ªhe needed to start asking that question first. Not What do I want to do?, or even, How do I need to handle this?, but What does Harry need from me?


    Sirius took a deep breath and left his room, heading toward the living room. Both Harry and Remus looked up, their conversation halting abruptly and awkwardly.


    Sirius approached his godson, who seemed to cringe just slightly as Sirius tapped his arm, signaling for him to stand. Sirius pulled Harry into a hug, which Harry returned.


    "Good to see you, Harry." Sirius patted his back, then took his shoulders and held him at arm''s length, looking him in the eye. "I heard about what happened with Umbridge. You''re sure you''re okay?"


    He nodded. "I-I''m fine."


    "You''re sure you don''t want me to go over there and kill her? Because just say the word, and I will."


    Harry smiled wryly. "I''d rather have you around to see me graduate."


    Sirius nodded and let go with one last clap to Harry''s shoulder. "Can I help with your testimony?"


    His eyes widened for just a second. "Yeah. I''ll take all the help I can get."


    Harry sat back down on the couch, and Sirius went over to sit beside Remus, who gave him a half smile and a nod.


    As silently as he could, Sirius let out his breath.

 Chapter 8: Wizengamot

    Harry took a deep breath, glancing around at many of the same faces that had tried to condemn him for casting a Patronus at the beginning of this school year.


    Sirius and Lupin had coached him on sitting up straight and speaking clearly and confidently, and they had let him practice his answers by asking him questions that might be asked during the trial. But even with all of the practice, and even though Harry had faced the Wizengamot a few months ago for very different reasons, there was no preparing for those narrowed eyes on him. It occurred to Harry that many of them had already made up their minds about him, thanks to the Daily Prophet.


    Umbridge sat in a chair along the side, a short distance away from Lee Jordan. Lupin sat on the opposite side of the room¡ªDumbledore had pulled some strings to allow him to be there as an emotional support for Harry, and Harry was thankful for that.


    Umbridge had already been questioned about the accusations made against her. Lupin had warned Harry many times to remain silent through her testimony, no matter what she said. Harry had never been so tempted to speak out when Umbridge denied Harry''s claims and called him a liar. What kept him from doing so wasn''t any fear of ruining the trial, but instead the fear of the disappointed look Lupin would give him if he disobeyed the advice.


    Now, though, it was his turn to speak, and part of him wished he could disappear. That he could be anywhere but here. He glanced over at Lupin, who gave him an encouraging smile and a nod.


    Fudge cleared his throat. "You accuse Dolores Umbridge of forcing you to use a blood quill during detentions at Hogwarts."


    "Yes, sir," Harry said.


    "Despite the fact that use of such implements are strictly forbidden in a school setting."


    "Yes, sir."


    "You are claiming that Dolores Umbridge knowingly broke the law and tortured students. A ministry official. Do you realize how serious this accusation is?"


    A sarcastic comment was on the tip of Harry''s tongue. He probably would have voiced it, despite the damage it could have done, but he stopped himself. Not because of the many sets of accusing eyes, but because he could feel Lupin''s gentler stare. "Yes, sir, I am aware."


    Fudge frowned. "You''re also aware that it is a crime to tell a lie before the Wizengamot."


    Harry''s voice caught in his throat. "Lee Jordan had to use the blood quill, too. He''s here, you can ask him about it."


    "And we will. But right now, we would like to hear from you." He lowered his head, and his eyes pierced Harry''s. "Is it true that you spoke out of turn in Dolores Umbridge''s Defense Against the Dark Arts class, about a certain Dark Lord having miraculously risen from the dead?"


    Harry swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in his throat.


    "Spreading vicious rumors, seeding fear among Hogwarts students, seeking attention . . . it seems our Mr. Potter is up to his old tricks."


    Harry''s pulse pounded in his ears. Now wasn''t the time or the place to try to convince them that Voldemort was alive. Lupin had drilled that into him enough. But he couldn''t quite keep the edge out of his voice as he asked, "Am I on trial, sir?"Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Fudge''s brow furrowed. "You are not, but your track record as a fear mongering liar cannot be ignored when you bring such wild accusations before the Wizengamot."


    "I don''t know what you want me to do, sir. Do you want to do a spell to uncover enchantments? Do you want me to take veritaserum?"


    It was silent for a moment. Harry worried they might actually take him up on his offer, despite the fact that he was pretty sure it was illegal to use veritaserum on a minor. He had no lies to tell about Umbridge or Voldemort, but there was no telling what else they might ask him while he was unable to refrain from answering, and he certainly had secrets to keep.


    Finally, Fudge said, "Th-that won''t be necessary."


    Harry took a deep breath. "I know I''ve been accused of lying in the past. But you know what?" Harry held up his hand, showing the back of it to the crowd. "I think I''ve learned my lesson."


    Light gasps echoed through the room.


    <hr>


    Minutes later, Harry was walking out of the Ministry building, Lupin beside him.


    Lupin put an arm around Harry, squeezing his shoulder. "I know that was difficult. I''m very proud of you, my boy," he said softly.


    Harry''s throat choked up. So this was the upside of having someone whose approval he cared about so much. Yes, it hurt terribly when Lupin said he was disappointed, but when he said he was proud, Harry was on top of the world.


    They returned to Grimmauld place. Sirius called out to them as soon as they were in the door. "How''d it go?"


    "Very well," Lupin said. "Harry spoke well, and he showed them the scar on the back of his hand. I believe it came as a bit of a shock."


    Sirius tousled Harry''s hair. "Atta boy. Fudge won''t be able to back down from that. Well done."


    Harry felt himself overwhelmed with familial longing, desperately wishing he could go live with Sirius this summer rather than with the Dursleys.


    "What do you think, Harry?" Sirius said. "Straight back to Hogwarts, or shall we celebrate with ice cream first?"


    Harry breathed in to accept the offer to celebrate, but he looked up Lupin first to make sure he approved. At Lupin''s nod, Harry grinned.


    <hr>


    Umbridge was taken to Azkaban the day after the trial. Remus could tell from the look on Fudge''s face in the papers that he wasn''t happy about having had to admit he was wrong, but he was really and truly cornered. The wizarding world might have had a poor opinion of Harry for the time being, but that didn''t mean they wanted to see his hand sliced open, and it didn''t make them sympathize with a child abuser. Lee Jordan''s testimony was icing on the cake.


    For the remainder of the school year, Harry wrote often, to Remus and Sirius individually, but more often to the both of them in a single letter. He seemed to be doing much better, since most of Harry''s difficulties that school year had been caused by Umbridge, either directly or indirectly. He was back on the Quidditch team, and he wrote about his grueling practices and soaring victories. He also seemed to be doing much better in his classes, and when Remus checked in with Minerva to make sure he was back to normal, she informed him that Harry''s grades had improved considerably as well. Remus felt like he couldn''t have been prouder if Harry were his own son.


    It was too late in the school year to find a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Based on Harry''s letters, it sounded like the remainder of the Hogwarts staff had taken up the role, substituting for each grade''s classes for individual days or weeks at a time. Albus brought in guest speakers as well¡ªRemus was asked to teach for a couple of weeks, and he was happy to do so between full moons. Albus even asked Harry to give a talk to the younger students¡ªRemus was allowed to help him prepare his lesson, which meant Harry came to visit Grimmauld Place for one more in-person meeting that school year.


    Having multiple teachers was an interesting classroom model. It wouldn''t have worked well for many subjects, but when it came to something like defense, the types of threats students might face were of such a wide variety that it almost made more sense to have experts in the various areas teach about their personal proficiencies. It also avoided the apparent curse that had been placed on the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position. No one had been hired to fill the position, so no one was cursed to lose the job.


    Remus was sure Albus would hire someone new for the next school year despite the curse, but if Remus had been in his place, he might have chosen to permanently change the way Defense was taught to young wizards. After all, when it came to Hogwarts, one never could know what was coming next.

 Epilogue

    <div>


    The rest of the school year was fairly uneventful, as compared to the years before. Harry was thankful for that.


    He did have a bit of a falling out with Snape¡ªthat is, a worse falling out than their usual¡ªwhen Snape tried to teach Harry Occlumency to help with his bad dreams. When Snape wasn''t in the room, Harry looked into his Pensieve, invading Snape''s privacy as well as finding out things he didn''t want to know about his father. It shattered his view of his father for a little while, but the Occlumency lessons stopped after that, which was a positive outcome in his book, even if he didn''t like how it had come about. He knew it was supposed to be important for him to learn Occlumency, but it wasn''t as if Snape was really teaching him anything, anyway.


    The only other major event of the school year was a brief scare with one of his visions. Harry saw Sirius being tortured in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic, but he remembered what Lupin had taught him about speaking up when he needed help, and he went to see Dumbledore. He ended up being thankful he did. It turned out Sirius had never been at the Ministry¡ªit was a trap. An ambush of Death Eaters turned up at the Department of Mysteries later that day. Harry shuddered to think what could have happened if he had just run off. The one good part about the whole debacle was that it made the news. After that, no one could deny that Voldemort had returned, so no one thought Harry was crazy after that.


    But overall, the end of the year was fairly quiet. Harry did his homework, took his exams, played Quidditch (and won every game), and enjoyed the time with his friends, right up until the day they packed to return home for the summer.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Summer. The worst time of the year.


    But maybe it didn''t have to be . . .


    <hr>


    Remus was finishing breakfast when Harry stumbled out of the Floo.


    It was the last thing Remus was expecting. If he wasn''t mistaken, today was supposed to be the day the Hogwarts students headed back home. Harry was due on the Hogwarts Express any minute.


    "Harry?" Remus hurried over to the fireplace. "


    "Sir, you said I was supposed to speak up if anyone hurts me, right?"


    Remus''s heart pounded. "Yes, of course, Harry. What happened?"


    "I . . ." Harry winced. "I don''t know if it matters . . ."


    "Did another teacher hurt you?"


    Harry swallowed hard. "No. My aunt and uncle."


    Remus felt his eyes widen, though he tried to keep a straight face. He was torn between feeling thankful that Harry had finally spoken up, and brokenhearted that it had taken him this long. "And you don''t want to go back to them."


    "Er . . . this was stupid, I shouldn''t have come here. I''ll be fine."


    "Harry, you''re not going back there."


    "But Dumbledore told me why I have to stay with them. The blood wards¡ª"


    "Are meant to keep you safe. That''s not happening if you''re being abused."


    "I¡ªI''ll be fine, I''ve been fine for the past fifteen years, I''ll just¡ª"


    "Hey." Remus gave him a pointed look. "You did the right thing speaking up, my boy. You understand me?"


    Harry stared at him for a moment, then nodded. He blinked a couple of times, then he stepped forward, and Remus pulled him into his arms.


    The End

 Sequel posted!

    Hey everyone!


    The first chapter of the sequel, Listen Now, has been posted.


    Summary for Listen Now:


    Harry confides in Remus Lupin about the Dursleys'' abuse and moves into Grimmauld Place with him and Sirius. Remus takes steps to adopt him. Family fluff, abuse recovery.


    Excerpt from chapter 1:


    <blockquote>


    On Lupin''s instructions, Harry didn''t send a message to Uncle Vernon letting him know when to pick up Harry from the train station. He figured it wouldn''t matter much to Uncle Vernon, if he even noticed at all.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Lupin was there to meet him and take him to Grimmauld Place instead. At first, Harry felt like it was all a bit of a waste of time, since he''d just been there, but Lupin insisted that he had to go back to the school and get on the train, or his teachers would worry. Harry ended up being thankful to have the time on the train with his friends.


    Once they reached the house, Lupin went right to work preparing tea while Harry sat at a counter in the kitchen. "Sirius will be down in a bit. He''s taking care of a couple of cursed objects in one of the spare bedrooms." He placed a steaming cup in front of Harry.


    "Thank you, sir."


    "I''m not your professor anymore, Harry. You can call me Remus. You call Sirius by his first name, don''t you?"


    "Er, okay." For some reason, it felt different to him, but he supposed refusing would be even more disrespectful.


    Lupin sat down across from him. "Harry, do you want to talk about what happened at your aunt and uncle''s house?"


    Thank you for reading, and I always enjoy hearing your thoughts!


    </blockquote>