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‘Harry?’
Remus’ voice was laced with confusion, Sirius looked up from washing the dishes, confused at his partners' tone.
‘What's that on the back of your hand?’
Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach. He didn't tell Remus or Sirius about Umbridge because he was afraid of their reaction. What if they thought that he deserved it? Remus was a teacher as well. He would probably understand that Umbridge felt that she had to use harsher methods on him. And Sirius usually followed Remus’ lead. Harry had asked about it once and got a reply that was something along the lines of Remus having “common sense” or something.
‘It's er… nothing. Just a scratch from herbology.’ Harry attempted to shrug it off. Remus’ frown deepened. Was Harry really that bad at lying? Surely Remus hadn't seen through him so quickly?
‘If it's from herbology have you had it looked at? Some plants have poisonous tendencies that could cause serious issues.’
Harry cursed himself. Of course Remus would ask to look. Sirius now walked over to stand next to his partner, a matching frown on his face.
‘It's fine. Hermione had a look after class.’ He tried his hardest to keep the apprehension out of his voice, but some stuck through.
‘Well as smart as Hermione is, I would feel better knowing that an adult had a look.’ Sirius intoned.
Remus held out his hand expectantly.
Harry found himself looking around the room, searching for an escape. Remus noted it with a raised eyebrow.
‘Harry? Is something wrong?’ The fear in Remus' voice was obvious to Sirius, but Harry was beginning to panic too much to pick up on it.
‘Me? No. Nothing's wrong. Everything is perfectly fine. I think I might head up to bed now. Get a good night's sleep and all that.’ Even that was a lie. Harry never got a “good night's sleep” with all the nightmares that plagued him.
Remus and Sirius exchanged a look, but Harry missed it amongst his ramblings.
‘Harry. Let me see your hand.’ Remus’ had never sounded so stern, not even when he was a teacher. It did succeed in stopping Harry's rambling.
Head ducked in shame and fear, Harry reluctantly held his hand out for inspection.
The second Remus and Sirius registered what was there, it felt as if all the air had been tucked from the room.
‘Who did this to you?’ Sirius’ voice was murderous. Remus remained silent, but his face was paling quickly. Harry reckoned that it was more to do with the shock of the words themselves more than anything. I must not tell an interesting accusation Harry's way after all.
‘It's not important. It's fine.’ Sirius’ face turned an unhealthy shade of purple.
‘Fine?! You think this is fine?! Someone has carved words into your flesh! Your flesh Harry!’ Sirius' rage was violent, causing him to tug on his own hair out of pure anger. Remus still said nothing, just stood there staring at the words traced into Harry's hand.
‘Who did it, Harry? If you don't answer I'm going straight to Dumbledore.’ Harry thought his heart could plummet not further, but it found a way.
‘You shouldn't. It's fine. It's not even the worst injury I've had.’
Sirius let out a humourless laugh. ‘I don't think injuries from fighting voldemort counts, Harry.’ Now Harry felt anger rising up in himself too. Why did Remus and Sirius have to be so pushy? Why couldn't they mind their own business? Suddenly, his rage exploded outwards. ‘Who said anything about injuries from Voldemort?’ He spat.
Sirius stilled.
‘What do you mean by that Harry?’ Remus’ voice was no louder than a whisper, fearing the answer he would receive.
‘Honestly.’ Harry could no longer see past his anger at their interference. ‘Do you really think that her carving into my hand for six hours a day is the worst I've had? After all the beatings? The being slapped around, kicked, and punched every day for 11 years? The missed meals for days at a time? The unrelenting chores I had to do? Really? You truly think that's what I'm going to cry about?’
Remus and Sirius stood there, minds racing at how they missed it. The scuttling around the house, the excessive chores he did, the flinches when one of them moved too fast. Sirius spoke first.
‘Harry. I need you to give me a straight answer, please. Did your aunt and uncle abuse you?’ Now it was Harry's turn to let out a laugh that was as dead as Harry's innocence. ‘Abuse? They only put me in my place. They made sure I knew that. Every day. For 11 years. I ran away three times. And every time I asked for help, I was brought back. Told what a horrible lying child I was. So why are you so shocked about this? Dumbledore knew. He literally had a spy right next door, keeping him updated.’ Harry stood rooted to the floor, breathing hard.
Remus began to shake his head rapidly. ‘Harry, no. We didn't know. I swear we-’
‘I'm going to kill him.’ Sirius’ low growl cut Remus short. ‘I'm going to rip him apart with my bare hands.’ Sirius turned towards the fireplace, seemingly readying himself to travel to Hogwarts. But he stopped when Remus set a gentle hand on his shoulder.
‘Later.’ He nodded towards Harry, who was now trembling slightly, fearing what he had just said. He had told Sirius and Remus about the Dursleys. Now he would surely be kicked out for telling such obvious lies. Would Hogwarts take him back for the holidays? Would have to beg Mrs Weasley for a place to stay, interrupting Ron's family time? A warm hand on each of his shoulders pulled Harry from his spiral. He looked up to see Remus and Sirius crouching in front of him, sad smiles on their faces.
‘Harry.’ Remus spoke softly, hoping to keep Harry calm. ‘Nothing that happened was your fault. Dumbledore told me that you were safe,and I believed him. I'm sorry I didn't check in on you.’ Harry shook his head, dismissing the idea.
‘No, Harry.’ Sirius was the quietest he had ever been. ‘I'm sorry that they made you go through that. I promise that you will never return there.’ Harry's eyes lit up.
‘Really? Do you actually mean it?’
Sirius nodded, putting an arm around Remus. ‘We would love to have you here Harry.’
The two adults stumbled back as the small wizard crashed into their arms.
Remus and Sirius tightened the embrace with the silent promise to deal with the rest in the morning.