Listen Now: A Harry Potter & Remus Lupin Hurt/Comfort Adoption Fic

Healing

Harry didn't think he'd ever quite get used to the feeling of Apparating, but today, the disorientation and slight nausea might as well have been the best feeling in the world.

He was out. He was safe.

Remus and Harry appeared in the living room at Grimmauld Place. Harry wondered if there were extra people staying there—it was a little messier than usual, with dishes washing themselves in the sink and coats slung over chairs and furniture.

And Sirius lay on the floor of the living room in a full body bind.

"Ah. Sorry about that." Remus took out his wand and muttered a counter curse.

Sirius jumped to his feet and threw his arms around Harry. "Are you alright?"

Harry gasped a little for breath. "I'm fine."

"You're sure?" He gripped Harry's shoulders and held him at arm's length. "What did they do to you?"

"Nothing."

"Harry," Remus said in a warning voice.

Harry grimaced. He didn't want to talk to Sirius about this. For one thing, it was embarrassing. He had been so certain he could last two weeks at his relatives' house, especially with the protective spell over him, and he couldn't even do that. Aunt Petunia hadn't even been hurting him; whatever alarms had been triggered at Grimmauld Place had probably been a result of his own accidental magic more than anything else. On the other hand, Uncle Vernon had knocked his head against a wall, and Sirius wouldn't deal well with that knowledge. Even Remus had barely kept it in.

But Remus had just charged in and rescued him. Harry couldn't just shrug and refuse to speak; he had to say something. For the life of him, though, he couldn't figure out what to say.

Remus spoke first. "Sirius, Harry has been through an ordeal. Why don't we let him rest, and we can talk to him in a little while?"

Harry could see Sirius fighting his urge to resist, his mouth opening and closing, breathing in to speak and then holding himself back. Finally, he sighed. "Get some rest, Harry," Sirius said. "We'll talk later."

Remus spent the next hour out in the common area on the couch in front of the empty fireplace. He held a shot glass of firewhiskey in his hand, but he never actually brought it to his lips.

Within the first fifteen minutes after his arrival, Kingsley dropped in to ask whether Harry was alright, and five minutes after that, Tonks came in with the same question. He told them both the same thing: that they should leave Harry alone until he was ready to talk. He was thankful they had asked him first.

Something terrible must have happened at the Dursleys. It was the only thing that would explain the strength of the accidental magic outburst he'd seen, especially given the fact that Harry should really be too old for that by now; the boy was almost sixteen. His uncle had been hurting him when Remus had arrived, but that didn't seem to be what had caused the explosion; more likely, his uncle was punishing him for an outburst he couldn't control. Remus paced and counted his breaths—Vernon Dursley made him want to forget all reason and take justice into his own hands. He couldn't blame Sirius for wanting the same, and he couldn't imagine what Harry must have gone through, or what he might be thinking or feeling now.

It took almost the full hour for it to occur to Remus that he had projected his own needs onto the boy. He hadn't actually asked Harry whether he wanted to be alone, or if he talk about anything. He's just assumed.

Remus had forced himself to take some time away from Harry to collect his thoughts and allow Harry to collect his own, and to protect the boy from prying questions. But just because Sirius had been overwhelming him didn't mean Harry wanted to be alone after such a traumatic event. Remus hadn't even asked. He could have kicked himself.