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

Murtlap

Harry got up from bed for the sixth time that night. The back of his hand felt like it was on fire—it 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—he 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—it 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—he 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.

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.