Chapter 11

A/N: Hi Internet, it has been about 3 years since I posted. If you are bouncing back in, THANK YOU! & if you're new here, thanks too!

I've had two comments from folks who were confused by Lupin's they/them pronouns. If you're confused, I will attempt to clarify… if not, you don't need to read this part! On the gender color wheel (sorry for the cheesy metaphor), some folks don't identify with pink or blue but feel somewhere in the middle. They feel that the pronouns 'he' or 'she' are not reflective of who they are and feel that the pronouns they/them more accurately align with their gender identity. My Lupin is non-binary because that's how I see them and this is my fanfic!

On a completely different note (if you've read this far into the a/n, thanks!), I want to acknowledge some of the hurt/comfort fanfics that influenced this story:

Perception is Everything by Kendra James

The Fight for Harry's Life by Kendra James

Dudley's Memories, Snape's Memories, Severus' Dreams by Paganaidd

Digging for Bones by Paganaidd

I also love Improbable Foundations by Imagination94

If you haven't read these yet. Like, what are you doing? Stop everything and go find them.

Without further ado, onto chapter 11…

For a while Poppy, Severus, and Minerva stood clustered around the boy, watching him as he slept. It felt like where they needed to be.

At least thirty minutes had passed when Minerva broke the silence with a loud sigh before speaking, "Poppy, let's relocate to your office. We must decide on next steps and I'm going to need another cigarette." Minerva parted the curtains around the bed to let herself out. The deputy head felt her breathing hitch up as her two of her favorite overly-meddlesome students rushed over.

"I am losing my patience." she snapped, enunciating each word. "Take a look," she said, gesturing to Harry. He's sleeping. If you even think about waking him up…" the witch struggled to think of an appropriate punishment. At the same time, Minerva felt Poppy and then Severus brush beside her. Blessedly, they left her alone to deal with the two miscreants.

Seeing the children start to open their mouths, Professor McGonagall held up her hands. She forced herself to exhale then spoke in the calmest voice she could manage, "Look, it's quite late." She gestured the students over to two empty beds on the other side of the wing. When they were all seated she spoke: "Harry's had a rough go of it lately. Overcoming all the obstacles in the third-floor corridor, meeting he-who-must-not-be-named. He's tired. He's sleeping and you should be as well." Professor McGonagall pointed to each bed and said: "Go to bed," she said in a firm voice.

Minerva remained in her seat, waiting for the two to follow her instructions. When they were each under the covers and Weasley's breathing had begun to deepen, she got up and made her way to Poppy's office.

Minerva sat down and extricated a box of Mayfairs from her pocket. She took one for herself then handed the box to Poppy who took one with a sigh. Poppy passed the box to Severus who took one as well.

Severus Snape cast a silencing spell over the hospital wing before snapping: "What do we do?" McGonagall caught her friend's eyes and flicked her eyebrows up.

"We hack the Dursleys into little pieces with a rusty ax," sighed Professor McGonagall.

"Albus Dumbledore should be told," stated Madam Pomfrey

"I don't want to be in the same room with that man right now. I could kill him right along with the Dursleys," said Minerva before she lit her cigarette with her wand and proceeded to do the same for her colleagues.

"I need a coffee, anyone else want?" said Poppy.

The two nodded.

Cigarette still in hand, Poppy summoned a French press and some ground coffee beans. As the Matron prepared their coffee, Minerva told them of her memories from Halloween 1981, the day she had seen a one-year-old Harry Potter left on his Aunt's doorstep.

The Deputy Headmistress kept shaking her head back and forth as she spoke. "I don't know why I ever trusted Dumbledore."

Severus took drag after drag on his cigarette, his ever-present scowl more prominent than ever.

"So you think Albus is responsible?" clarified Poppy, "He did choose Harry's placement. Is it possible he never even checked in on the boy?"

"Well, '' answered Severus, after taking a puff, "Potter has been our student for months. We didn't notice." The man let out a sigh then rested his cigarette on the ashtray.

"Without any physical evidence, I suppose it would have been easy to miss the condition. We're British," said Professor McGonagall.

"Poppy, do you know why Potter's injuries simply vanished the way that they did?"

Poppy looked into the flames. She took in some quick, deep breaths as if to energize herself after the long night. "Do you know what a Dolor Vis Fidelis response is?" she asked softly but clearly.

"I have heard of it," said Severus, "but I'd never witnessed it before today."

"So that's what happened?" asked Minerva.

"Yes, It's an interesting condition and it's very rare," She paused for a moment to inhale some nicotine. "As you already know, wizards heal more quickly than muggles. Our magic expedites the healing process. But when a Dolor Vis Fidelis response occurs, the injuries are displaced in time and will only return when they can be healed alongside the emotional wounds. You see, that's why we never saw or suspected anything."

"A Dolor Vis Fidelis response?" said Professor McGonagall, repeating her friend's words. "If I remember my Latin, his pain will only be visible to those he finds trustworthy?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded, pleased that her friends were getting up to speed. "This response requires an innate trust - that one has the capacity to trust. Somehow, even though Harry was very young, he understood that there were people out there who would need to see the full extent of the wounds."

Minerva looked out into space, processing the information from Madam Pomfrey. Suddenly, the gears clicked.

"Harry was just over a year old when Lily and James were murdered. He was just old enough to develop trust in the adults around him."

For a while, the three adults just looked into the fire, letting themselves feel the toll the evening had put on them.

Finally, Minerva sighed and pushed herself into the present moment.

"We have a problem to solve. We have to find him a suitable guardian."

"Someplace to stay," put in Severus.

"And a magical therapist," added Poppy. "To start, we tell Albus Dumbledore" and the witch threw powder into her floo and woke up the headmaster.

Thank you for reading!