Harry was the last student scheduled for a check-up on Friday evening, a deliberate arrangement. Madam Pomfrey had been tasked with examining him thoroughly, analyzing and documenting every detail. Any sign that might point to domestic violence was to be carefully noted.
Aurora Moonridge sat with Professors Lupin, McGonagall, and Dumbledore in the Headmaster's office, waiting for news from Madam Pomfrey. The atmosphere was heavy with tension; none of them were calm. They were on the brink of a crucial revelation. If Poppy's findings confirmed that Harry's condition suggested domestic violence, Hogwarts would have to notify the Ministry, setting official actions into motion.
Poppy Pomfrey entered Albus Dumbledore's office at around eight o'clock in the evening, her face pale and drawn. The creak of the door seemed deafening in the heavy silence, and her presence immediately gripped everyone in the room. The lines of worry etched into her features were unmistakable, and when she sank into the chair next to Professor McGonagall, the tears glistening on her cheeks brought a suffocating wave of tension.
"Madam Pomfrey?" Dumbledore's voice was steady but soft, as though afraid to shatter her fragile composure. "Would you like to share with us what you have discovered?"
Pomfrey took a shaky breath, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched a thick sheaf of parchment in her lap. "It's true," she said, her voice breaking. "Harry... he's malnourished, underweight, far too small for his age... and beaten."
The raw emotion in her words was like a physical blow. Minerva McGonagall gasped audibly, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes brimmed with tears. Aurora Moonridge turned her gaze away, blinking rapidly to fight her own emotions, while Remus Lupin's jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the armrest of his chair.
Pomfrey's voice faltered as she pushed the medical report across the desk toward Dumbledore. "Everything is documented. It's all there. The bruises... the scars... injuries that were never treated properly. He's suffered for so long."
Dumbledore's face darkened, the usual twinkle in his eyes replaced by a cold, steely determination. He scanned the report quickly, his expression growing graver with every line. Finally, he stood, his posture rigid with resolve.
"I will go to the Ministry with this immediately," he said firmly, folding the report under his arm. But before he turned to leave, he addressed the room. "Minerva, you will oversee everything here until I return. Ensure that the school remains calm and secure."
His gaze shifted to Aurora and Remus. "I know Harry trusts the two of you. Go to the Hospital Wing at once and speak with him. He'll need reassurance, and guidance. Do what you can to make him feel safe."
Finally, his piercing blue eyes fell on Pomfrey. "Poppy, do not let him leave your care under any circumstances. He is to remain under your watch until we can secure his safety."
Pomfrey nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line, but her hands still shook slightly as she wiped her tears away.
The room was quiet for a moment after Dumbledore swept out, leaving the heavy responsibility of Harry's welfare in their hands. Aurora and Remus exchanged a look, one of shared purpose but also deep worry. The weight of what they were about to face hung between them, but neither hesitated as they stood and prepared to follow the Headmaster's orders.
Aurora and Remus didn't exchange a word as they walked to the Hospital Wing. Words weren't necessary, they understood each other perfectly in the silence. Lupin kept a steady hand on Moonridge's back, his touch gentle but grounding, allowing her to take the lead. Aurora walked two steps ahead, her shorter stride naturally slowing their pace. Neither of them minded. The gravity of what lay ahead weighed heavily on them both, making time seem elastic, each step felt agonizingly slow, yet the destination arrived too soon.
They weren't ready for this conversation. But they knew it couldn't wait. Not when the Ministry would undoubtedly react swiftly to the report. This wasn't an ordinary case. Harry wasn't just a child; he was the Boy Who Lived, the Savior of the Wizarding World. The irony of his situation only deepened their shared sense of heartbreak.
When they finally reached the Hospital Wing, Aurora hesitated. Her hand hovered just inches from the door handle, trembling slightly. She couldn't bring herself to push it open. Remus, standing behind her, didn't rush her. He couldn't. His own uncertainty mirrored hers, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he tried to summon the courage they both lacked.
After a moment, Aurora's hand drifted back, searching for his. Without hesitation, Remus laced his fingers with hers. She squeezed, drawing strength from the quiet reassurance in his grip. He squeezed back, silently letting her know they would face this together.
Neither spoke as they pushed the door open in unison.
Inside, Harry Potter sat on one of the hospital beds, his head bowed so low his messy black hair all but obscured his face. His small shoulders were hunched, his posture radiating defeat. Poppy Pomfrey sat in the corner of the room, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the boy. It was clear she wasn't just his healer tonight, she was his sentinel, guarding him as if her very presence could shield him from further harm.
Remus exhaled softly, his chest tightening at the sight. Harry looked so small, so vulnerable. A child who had been through far too much already, now burdened with yet another cruel chapter of his story. Aurora's gaze flicked to Remus, her expression raw with sympathy. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Harry should be a happy, carefree teenager, not a boy carrying the weight of the wizarding world and scars no child should bear.
"Harry," Aurora whispered, her voice breaking the tense stillness of the room.
The boy's head lifted slowly, his green eyes—so strikingly like his mother's, meeting theirs. The pain in his gaze was almost too much to bear. He knew. He knew they knew. His expression carried the weight of that knowledge, a mixture of shame and resignation that twisted in Aurora's chest like a dagger.
The two adults approached cautiously, their movements deliberate. They pulled up stools and sat beside him, close enough to show support but leaving him the space to breathe.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled, his voice barely audible. His eyes darted to his lap, his hands fidgeting nervously. "I didn't want anyone to worry about me. It's really nothing. You don't have to worry about me."
"Nonsense," Remus said firmly, his tone gentle but resolute. "Harry, you should always react to a situation like this. It's not nothing. It's never right for an adult to hurt a child. You deserve better than this, far better."
"Harry," Aurora said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady and filled with quiet determination. "Everything will be fine. I promise, you won't go back there. Not ever. Dumbledore is at the Ministry right now, and he'll make sure this is handled properly."
Harry's head snapped up at that, his voice rising with sudden panic. "What? The Ministry can't know! What will they think of me? That I defeated Voldemort, but I couldn't even stand up to my uncle?"
Aurora's heart clenched at his words, the raw panic and self-blame etched in every syllable. She reached out instinctively but hesitated, her hand hovering near his arm as if unsure whether her touch would comfort or overwhelm him.
"The press won't find out about anything, Harry," Remus assured him quickly, his voice calm and steady, a soothing counterpoint to the boy's agitation. "Dumbledore won't allow it. You don't have to worry about that."
Harry didn't respond for a long moment, his head bowed slightly, as though the weight of the evening's revelations was too much to lift. Aurora and Remus exchanged a brief, knowing look. The boy looked utterly drained—not just physically, but emotionally—and both of them recognized that pushing him further tonight would only do more harm than good.
"Harry," Remus said gently, breaking the silence, "you need to rest. It's been a long day. I think it'd be best if you stayed here tonight rather than going back to Gryffindor Tower."
Harry frowned, his shoulders slumping further. "Do I have to? I hate the Hospital Wing. I'm here all the time—it feels like a second dormitory at this point."
Aurora's eyes flicked toward Madam Pomfrey, whose pursed lips and stern expression left little doubt about her stance.
"Madam Pomfrey would prefer you to stay," Remus said, his tone calm but firm, as though trying to coax a reluctant cub.
"But there's really no need—" Harry began, clearly looking for an escape.
"Maybe," Aurora interrupted softly, her voice thoughtful, "Harry could stay in my guest quarters tonight?"
"Professor, I couldn't—" Harry started to protest, but Aurora shook her head.
"I actually think it's a good idea," Remus chimed in, glancing at Madam Pomfrey. "What do you think?"
"The Headmaster asked for Mr. Potter to stay in the Hospital Wing," she replied stiffly, her disapproving tone leaving no room for ambiguity.
"But, Madam Pomfrey," Aurora pressed, her voice gentler now, almost pleading, "wouldn't Harry feel better away from this place? A little peace and quiet might help him rest."
Poppy hesitated, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she looked between the professors and the boy. Remus and Aurora held their breath, sensing the internal battle between Pomfrey's protective instincts and the practicality of their suggestion.
When she finally nodded, albeit begrudgingly, Aurora and Remus could hardly believe it. Madam Pomfrey was not known for her leniency when it came to her patients—least of all Harry Potter.
Harry, for his part, still looked uncertain. Staying overnight in Professor Moonridge's quarters didn't exactly feel ideal, but it was undeniably better than spending the night in the sterile, overly monitored confines of the Hospital Wing. Or worse, the echoing isolation of Gryffindor Tower.
"...Okay," he finally relented, his voice barely audible.
Aurora and Remus both felt a pang in their chests at the boy's quiet surrender, but they knew they had made the right choice.
Harry woke up in Professor Moonridge's quarters around nine in the morning, sunlight streaming through the half-drawn curtains. For a moment, he blinked in confusion, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. Then, panic set in. He was late, very late. He scrambled out of bed, quickly pulling on his robes, and hurried toward the door. Lessons must have started, and he hadn't even had breakfast yet.
Rushing into Professor Moonridge's office, Harry froze mid-step when he realized she was already there, seated at her desk. She was bent over a piece of parchment, her quill moving quickly, its scratching the only sound in the room.
"Professor Moonridge, I'm sorry," he blurted out, feeling a heat rise to his face. "I didn't realize you were here."
Aurora looked up, her expression soft and calm, and gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Harry. You don't have to rush anywhere, you're excused from classes today."
"Oh," was all Harry could manage, caught off guard by her kind tone.
"Sit down," she said gently, gesturing to the chair opposite her desk. "We need to talk."
Harry hesitated for a moment before obeying, sliding into the chair. Aurora set down her quill and folded her hands on the desk, giving him her full attention.
"Professor Dumbledore has already notified the Ministry," she began. "Professor Lupin left for London first thing this morning to join him. From what I understand, your aunt and uncle have already been detained. Charges will be brought against them through the Ministry of Magic. Minister Fudge is keen on keeping this out of Muggle news."
Harry stared at her, processing the weight of her words. The idea of Vernon and Petunia being arrested felt... strange. For so long, they had been the ones in control, and now they were the ones answering for their actions. Still, it didn't feel as satisfying as he thought it might. Instead, it left an emptiness in his chest.
He sat in silence, staring down at his hands until he finally worked up the courage to ask the question he knew they were all dreading. "Professor, what happens to me now? Where will I live?"
Aurora sighed, her gaze softening as she looked at him. She had known this question would come, and yet it still felt heavy to answer.
"We don't know yet, Harry," she admitted. "But I promise you, we'll have an answer before the term ends."
Harry's shoulders slumped slightly, but he nodded. Still, something about her words didn't sit right with him. He lifted his head again, his brow furrowed. "But isn't it true," he began hesitantly, "that since my aunt and uncle have been charged, I'll need a temporary guardian?"
Aurora inclined her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You should, yes. That's one of the reasons Professor Lupin is at the Ministry right now. He's the closest thing to family you have, well, without being related by blood. But..." She trailed off, her voice softening further. "It hasn't been officially announced who your temporary guardian will be yet. There have been... some complications."
"Complications?" Harry echoed, his voice tinged with worry.
Aurora hesitated, clearly reluctant to delve into the specifics, but she gave him a reassuring look. "Nothing that can't be sorted, Harry. I promise, you won't have to go back to the Dursleys. You'll be safe now."
Her words were meant to comfort him, but Harry couldn't help the anxious knot that tightened in his chest. He wasn't sure what scared him more, the unknown future or the idea of having no one to call family at all.