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—four days after he'd received Harry's initial message, three days after he'd let the boy spend the morning at Grimmauld Place—he 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—when he chose to trust someone, that trust was complete and absolute.

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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—"

"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."

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"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—Remus 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—it 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—he'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—"

"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.

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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—" 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—"

"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.