Remus

I was sat at my desk marking homework when I heard a quiet knock at my office door. I had a lot to do, and the full moon was approaching but I had always promised the students that my door was always open. I wasn't about to go back on that tonight.

"Come in," I called out, laying my quill down.

The door opened a little way and in the gap I saw one of my Hufflepuff students peek around. "Are you busy?" she asked quietly, if not a little uncertainly.

I smiled at her, trying to put her at ease. I knew the difficulties of being the shy one at school. "Not at all," I said mildly. "Come in, Ella."

Ella managed to give me a little smile but I could tell something was worrying her. Still, I tried to keep my expression neutral. I didn't want to spook her, or worry her any more than she was already. Hesitantly, Ella stepped into my office and shut the door quietly behind her. She gave me a little, worried look as she approached my desk and perched on the chair on her side of the desk.

"What can I do for you?" I asked, prompting her as she didn't speak.

She sighed a little. It seemed like she couldn't quite meet my eye, and she kept her gaze firmly on the floor. Finally, she spoke. "It's, um…" she trailed off. "I hoped you could help me with something. It's not – good – but I don't want anyone getting into trouble. Do you have to – do you have to tell anyone?"

I frowned slightly, trying to untangle what Ella was trying to tell me. "Right," I said slowly. "Well, if someone has hurt you – is that what you mean? Has someone done something?"

She chewed on her lip anxiously, but eventually answered me with a small nod.

"Not badly," she added quickly. "It's just a stupid thing."

"Right," I said again. "So – how can I help?"

She hesitated again. How reticent she was being about what was going on was starting to worry me. What was Ella so reluctant for me to know? And why didn't she want me to know it?

I watched as Ella took a deep breath, and finally she looked up at me. "Should I just show you? It would be much easier to explain."

I tilted my head to one side, unsure what she was going to show me. But if this was the best way for her to explain whatever she needed to get off her chest – I was willing to go along with it. "Alright," I said gently. "If that's easier."

She nodded, but looked away from me and back down at the floor. For a second, it looked like she was steeling herself to do something – but finally with a little sigh, she rolled up one of her sleeves to show, written in thick, black Everlasting Ink, the word "DYKE" etched on her arm. She was biting her lip hard, and I suspected she was trying to hold back tears. My heart immediately went out to the poor girl. I had come face to face with some similarly medieval opinions in my time at school. I knew what the poor girl must be feeling.

"Ah," I said softly. "I see."

She nodded quickly, but didn't meet my eyes.

"I'm sure I can help you get that off," I reassured her quickly. "Don't worry about that."

She swallowed hard. "Thank you, sir," she managed to say in a choked voice.

I held out a hand across the desk and hesitantly she stuck out her arm for me to take hold of. I looked more closely at the black writing; luckily, I had seen writing like this written on fellow pupils during my own time at Hogwarts. It wasn't too hard to get off if you know how.

However, I was more worried about Ella's emotional state. She was obviously upset; and while she had ostensibly come here for my help getting the ink off, I wondered if she wanted to talk as well.

I took out my wand and waved it over Ella's arm. The ink faded, and with another wave of my wand, it was gone completely. "There we go," I said quietly.

Ella swallowed hard and gave me a smile that I knew was forced. She still wouldn't meet my eye as she quickly pulled her arm back across the table, pulling her sleeve down. "Thank you, sir," she repeated.

I watched her carefully. "No problem," I said gently. When I spoke again, I chose my words carefully. "Ella, I'm just wondering – would you be able to tell me who did this to you?"

I hadn't even finished my sentence before Ella started shaking her head. "I can't," she said, trembling in a way that made me think she was holding emotion back. "I just can't."

I gave a little sigh. Bullying was hard to deal with if the victims were too scared to tell teachers who the perpetrators were. "I can make sure that they won't bother you again," I offered, but Ella continued to shake her head.

"I deserved it," she said quietly. "I am. What they wrote. I am one."

I had suspected that our conversation might go in this direction. I had heard the rumours about Ella and another girl in the rumours that went around the staff room. "There's nothing wrong with that, Ella," I said gently. I doubted she knew it, but she had definitely come to the right member of staff for this problem. I had gone through all of this at Ella's age.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "I know. I do know that. I would never use that word about anyone else. I just…" She trailed off again, but I knew what she meant.

Unfortunately I knew as well that I had to push the issue of who had done this. I couldn't run the risk that they would do something worse to Ella, or to someone else. "How did this come to happen, Ella?" I asked gently.

She fiddled with a thread on her skirt. "I was coming back to the common room on my own," she told me finally, sounding exhausted. "They jumped out and grabbed me."

I frowned – such a cowardly thing to do. "Can you at least tell me which house they're in?"

She sighed. "Slytherin," she admitted quietly.

Right. As much as I tried to be fair to all my students, there was something about that answer that did not surprise me in the least. I nodded. "OK, Ella. I'll have a word with Professor Snape."

I watched as she swallowed hard and nodded herself. "Thanks," she said, with a small, sad smile. Even though we seemed to have gotten to the bottom of the issue, Ella didn't seem to be feeling any brighter. I was about to speak again when I looked down at Ella's hands, anxiously tugging on her sleeves so her arms stayed covered – and on the sleeve of her white shirt, just poking out from under her jumper, there was a small stain of what looked like blood.

"What happened to your other arm, Ella?" I asked cautiously, once again being careful so as to not spook her.

But even that question seemed to alarm her. With a panicked glance down to her hand, she hurriedly pulled her jumper sleeves down so the shirt wasn't visible anymore. "Nothing," she said quickly. "Paper cut."

I didn't believe that for a second but I knew I had to approach this calmly – letting on how worried I was would only make her more reluctant to tell me the truth. "Did they do something else? The group of Slytherins?"

She shook her head firmly. "No, no," she said insistently. "It's nothing. Honestly. No one did it to me."

I raised my eyebrows. She wasn't convincing in the slightest. I knew she was a second away from just leaving my office, and I really didn't want to have to bring this to her head of house without her consent. I considered for a minute, before deciding to ask the blunt question.

"Would you be able to show me your arm, please?" I asked, even and calm though I was really quite concerned for the young Hufflepuff.

Ella's head snapped up, meeting my eyes at last. I could see a deep pain in them, and I wasn't surprised when she started to cry. She roughly wiped the tears away with her sleeve, looking like she was trying to take a deep breath but starting to sob instead.

She looked at me and I could tell she was trying to work out if she could trust me. "Do you promise not to get mad?" she said at last.

I frowned slightly. Why would I be angry with her? But I held her gaze and nodded. Whatever it was, I was sure it wouldn't make me angry with her.

I watched as Ella took a deep breath and, like ripping a plaster off, she quickly pulled up her shirt sleeve. And finally I understood.

All down Ella's forearm were cuts, lined up neatly, all over her arm. These were no accidental injuries – and it even seemed unlikely that one of the Slytherins had done this to her. This was deliberate, I was sure of it. Ella was self-harming.

But I had to ask the blunt question. "Did you do these to yourself?" I asked, quiet and gentle.

She swallowed hard. "Yeah," she whispered. "I'm really sorry. I know it's stupid. But I can't help it." Her arms wrapped themselves around her stomach and she closed her eyes for a second, before looking like she was forcing herself to swallow again. "I think I'm going to be sick," she choked out, one hand coming up to her mouth.

Even in the few months I had worked as a teacher, I had learnt to take kids seriously when they said that. I quickly conjured up a plastic basin, and, walking around my desk, I held it up for Ella, placing my other hand gently on her back.

She looked like she was about to thank me but before she could get the words out, she was violently sick into the basin, once, twice, three times. She was starting to shake now.

"Hey, hey," I said, intentionally keeping my voice quiet and calm. "Take a deep breath. You're OK. I promise."

She nodded, and, looking like it took some effort, she took a few deep breaths. Finally, she sat back in the chair a little. "Sorry," she whispered.

I shook my head, vanishing the vomit from the basin with my wand but placing it beside the chair in case we needed it again. "Nothing to apologise for," I said, with a little smile.

In truth, I felt totally out of my depth. I had never dealt with anything like this before, as a teacher or even when I was a prefect. And on top of this, some of the cuts looked like they could do with medical attention, and Ella was so worried she was making herself physically ill. I was no healer. I briefly considered suggesting we talk to Ella's head of house; but there had to be a reason why she came to me and not to Professor Sprout in the first place. Quickly, I came to a decision.

"I think it might be a good idea to go and see Madam Pomfrey," I said, trying my best to sound calm and assured. "Some of those cuts need looking at. And maybe she can provide you with a Calming Draught. I can understand that you're really quite upset, Ella."

Ella looked panicked for a moment. "She's going to be so mad-" she blurted out, eyes wide.

I shook my head quickly. "Madam Pomfrey doesn't ask difficult questions if you don't want her to," I reassured her gently. "Especially if I come with you. I can assure Madam Pomfrey that you and I are going to talk when you are feeling better. If that's what you want us to do," I added quickly, slightly afraid I was getting ahead of myself.

To my relief, Ella nodded. "OK," she said quietly.

I gave her another little smile. "Shall we go?" I prompted.

Ella nodded quickly again. She wrapped her arms around herself and stood up from her chair. I watched for a few seconds to check she was steady on her feet, but when she seemed stable, I stood up myself, flicking my wand at the basin to vanish it. Once again, I placed a hand on her back and guided her with me out of my office.