Remus had to resist the urge to owl or Floo call Harry every single day of that first week Harry spent at the Durlseys. He kept telling himself that Harry would be fine. It was a bad situation, yes, and certainly bad enough to be considered abusive, but not detrimentally so—worth it for the protection of the blood wards. Harry had survived ten years plus four summer holidays with them already, and while he wasn't the image of mental health, he didn't show any serious damage from his time with them; he was basically fine. These two weeks would be unpleasant, but they wouldn't damage him or even severely hurt him.

Aside from that, Harry had made this decision. If Remus was going to maintain a relationship of open honesty with Harry, it was important that Remus showed he trusted him, and that he would honor the decisions he made. Of course, there could be exceptions to that, but in this case, Remus had told him it was his decision.

Sirius, of course, was pretty unhappy with Harry's choice and Remus's desire to uphold it, and he didn't make it easy for Remus to keep his mind at ease. "What if they beat him?"

"They haven't been beating him," Remus said. "And the protective spell will make sure they don't start." Of course, that was only true if Harry didn't strike first. But whether the Dursleys lashed out in defense or otherwise, the spell also set absolute limits on the pain it would allow Harry to receive—it wouldn't allow the boy's skin to be broken, and it wouldn't allow any attempts on his life. It would also alert Remus if Harry seemed to be in any real danger.

Sirius frowned. "I'm thankful for the protective spell. But you know as well as I that they can do much more harm with words."

Remus didn't respond. There was nothing he could say.

He distracted himself by spending time at a Wizard library, researching adoption guidelines. He told himself he was just looking, that he wasn't really going to do anything about it, but he was unprepared for how disappointed he felt when he realized that researching was all he'd ever be able to do. Regulations around werewolves adopting kids made it almost impossible, and perhaps the most frustrating part of that was that he felt the restrictions were justified. Formal adoption was out.

But since Remus was already at the library, he started reading about raising children and mentoring teenagers as well. He read about how to provide a stable presence and a supportive sounding board to help kids to solve their own problems, how to enforce firm boundaries while also ensuring a child felt loved, and how to help a teenager navigate finding their place in the world. There was also lots of advice in the book specific to raising wizarding children. Everything from accidental magic (which Remus was fairly certain Harry had grown out of, but one never knew), to helping kids with certain spells and magical feats (such as flying on a broomstick or Apparating), to dealing with the suspicion that a young child might actually be a Squib (though Remus had no concerns there).

Almost none of the advice required for him to actually be Harry's legal guardian. More, it required that Harry respect him as though he were his parent—which, Sirius claimed, Harry already did. If Remus put some effort into it, and if Harry was willing, he could do some real good for the boy. The harm people like Dursleys could do with cruel words and a hostile environment was clear to Remus, even if it wasn't always obvious to Harry. He would just have to make sure his words and the place he set up for Harry had the opposite effect.

Remus was so caught up in his reading that he was almost late in coming home for his Floo call with Harry. It didn't matter; Harry was almost twenty minutes late himself.

"Sorry," Harry said, kneeling beside the fireplace on a pillow. "I had to wait for them to leave the house."

"They didn't want you to use the fireplace?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't want to ask."

That didn't sound good to Remus, but it wasn't exactly ominous or even particularly surprising, either. "How are you, Harry?"

"I'm fine, Remus. Really. I can make it one more week."

"The protective spell is working?"

"Er, yeah. I guess."

That didn't sound good to him. "You guess?"

"I mean, yeah. It's working." Harry's cheeks turned a bit pink.

So Harry had lashed out at one of his relatives. Remus was torn about who to be upset with; he decided to let it go for now. "Are you getting enough to eat?"

"It's not a problem."

"Harry."

"I am, Remus. I promise."

"I can owl you some extra food if you want. I can have Hedwig take it straight to your bedroom window, you can hide it in your room—"

"No. Please don't do that."

That really didn't sound right. "Why not?"

"I mean . . . there's really no need. And, er, you don't need to go to the trouble."

Was that what he was worried about? "I assure you, it's no trouble."

"But, ah, Dudley goes into my room sometimes."

"Ahh . . ." Remus wasn't sure what to make of that. Clearly, Harry was hiding things, but Remus didn't know how to press him to be honest in a way that wouldn't push him away and make him even less inclined to open up. Something else to read about in the parenting books, he supposed.

"Remus, I'm okay. Tell Sirius I said hi?"

Remus nodded. He had wanted to keep the conversation going for longer, if only to give Harry some company and encouragement, but his mind went blank—he didn't know what else to say. "I will."

Harry smiled. "Thanks. See you in a week."

"I look forward to it."

"Me too."

Remus took his head out of the fireplace, sighing. Clearly, things weren't okay, but there was nothing he could do about it. He would have to trust that Harry would be alright for another week.

Remus's face hadn't quite disappeared from the flames when the Dursleys came back from Dudley's birthday lunch. Immediately, Uncle Vernon set to shouting at him for using magic in the house, and Aunt Petunia yelled at him for sitting on her nice decorative pillow on the floor, and Dudley pouted and whined about how their scolding was ruining his birthday. Harry took his opportunity while they were consoling Dudley—he slipped away into his cupboard.

Part of him regretted lying to Remus, but nothing good could have come of him telling the truth. Not this time. Remus would either insist on him coming back to Grimmauld Place, or he'd spend the next week losing sleep, worrying about Harry. Best case scenario, Remus might be able to offer a few encouraging words. Worst case, Sirius would catch wind of what was happening and do something terribly stupid and reckless.

It was tricky business, having people who cared about him. Still, the idea that someone might lie awake at night worrying about him, or be willing to endanger themselves for him . . . that made some part of him feel really good, better than he had since he'd come here. Harry lay back on the mattress, closed his eyes, and smiled to himself even as the Dursleys continued to shout at each other outside the cupboard.