Happy New Year everybody! Don't stay up too late. Or do, while reading my fiction of course. *chuckles* What a conceited person I am i suppose. But I needn’t get into that. I hope that you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you enjoy this one even more. I would like to note that the poem that starts off this chapter is actually a song sung by Josh Groban. I listened to this song quite frequently while writing this fanfic and has kind of been a leading light throughout. Josh is my...muse i suppose you could say.
THE GUILT OF MURDER
To Where You Are
Who can say for certain?
Maybe your still here.
I feel you all around me
Your memory so clear.
Deep in the stillness
I can hear you speak.
You’re still an inspiration
Can it be?
That you are mine
Forever, Love
And you are watching over me
From up above.
Fly me up to where you are beyond the distant stars
I wish upon tonight to see you smile
If only for a while, to know you’re there
A breath away’s not far
To where you are
While I’m gently sleeping
Deep inside my dreams
And isn’t faith believing
All power can’t be seen
As my heart holds you
Just one beat away
I cherish all you gave me
Every day
Cuz you are mine
Forever, Love
Watching me
From up above
And I believe
That angels bleed
And that love will live on and never leave
Fly me up to where you are beyond the distant stars
I wish upon tonight to see you smile
If only for a while, to know you’re there
A breath away’s not far
To where you are
I know you’re there
A breath away’s not far to where you are
-By Linda Thompson
-Sung by Josh Groban
The wind was knocked out of Harry. He sat gasping by the side of his wife’s body, trying desperately to catch his breath. No! It couldn’t be! There must be a mistake! Where was Wormtail?
Thoughts exploded in Harry’s mind. Luna, rocking Lily in her arms. Luna, telling him everything would be all right. Luna, smiling at him with those wonderful twinkling eyes. Her words raced through his mind, “Everything will turn out fine, you’ll see. You’re the best Auror I’ve ever known. I bet Wormtail is shaking in his boots knowing that you’re on his trail.” She had said those words herself, and all along it was she. She was the one who had murdered Fudge. She was the one who had taken Dorcus’ life. She was the one wrecking havoc with the Dark Mark. But she was the editor of the Quibbler. She was a former Ravenclaw. She was his wife.
“I love you.” Her soft sweet words sped through Harry’s ears. She had said that not long ago. Just the night before.
But had she really loved him? What evil person could love an Auror? How had she become evil to begin with?
Why had she just killed Ron? Why?
He had told her! He had told her that Ron had seen Dorcus’ murderer. He had told her all of the clues Tonks and he had found. He had let her in on every detail in his work. And that’s how she hadn’t been found out. That’s how she had never been caught. That’s how Ron had been killed.
The world seemed blurry. Harry didn’t feel Hermione’s quivering hand on his shoulder, or her soft, frightened, and shocked gasp of surprise and horror.
Harry’s sight turned red. White spots danced before his eyes. He literally felt his heart being torn in two. Just ripped in half, muscle by muscle, piece by piece.
And then, one single thought remained.
He had killed his wife.
Excerpt from the diary of Luna Lovegood Potter, January 24, 2000
The strangest thing happened to me the other day. I knew I was supposed to take Lily to Molly’s before work at 10:00. But I must have passed out or something, because when I awoke it was half past three and Lily had torn apart the kitchen and written all over the den walls. I wonder where the time went? I fear that perhaps I am ill. Perhaps my family’s genetic cases of insanity are finally kicking in? Maybe it was something I ate? I don’t want to tell Harry, but I will arrange an appointment with Healer Patric, just to be sure...
Harry looked up from Luna’s diary, and stared wide-eyed at Tonks, who was reading over Harry’s shoulder.
“Wormtail...” Harry breathed. “He was controlling her. The Imperius Curse. He was controlling her...” He gazed off into space.
Harry and Tonks had been searching through Luna’s possessions after the funeral and Harry had found Luna’s diary under the wardrobe.
“He was controlling her damnit!” Harry growled. A wave of anger, but also relief swept over him. He was comforted that Luna had not been acting on her own accord, but furious of what Wormtail had done to her.
Blind with hate, Harry threw the diary at the wardrobe as hard as he could. Then he turned with a bellow of rage and punched the bedroom wall. The drywall crumbled beneath his blow.
Harry stood panting, staring at the wall, his knuckles smarting. Tonks said quietly, “Perhaps I should leave. I’ll...I’ll go check on Lily...” and she left the room.
Harry sank onto the bed, kneading his temples. His stomach felt hot. The heat expanded to his chest, through his head and arms, and his ears filled with ringing.
He had to get Wormtail. He had to make Wormtail pay for the pain he had caused Harry. If not for himself, for Lily, who would never grow up to know her mother.
There had to be some way to find Wormtail. Perhaps he could lure him, like a trap.
Harry stood abruptly and apparated to Hogsmeade, just outside the Hogwarts gates. He took his wand from his back pocket, placed it in the gate keyhole and muttered the password. The gates swung open silently on oiled hinges. Harry entered the Hogwarts grounds, closing the gate behind him.
He ran the length of the path to the Hogwarts doors and pulled them open. The entrance hall was silent, since the school year had not yet started and was ghostly empty of students.
Harry leaped up the staircase to the second floor, down several corridors, past many classrooms, and stopped suddenly in front of a leering gargoyle.
“Uh, sherbet lemon?” he tried, fidgeting. “Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs! Uh, Vampire Pops, Cockroach Clusters! Oh, what is it?” He cried in frustration. “Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!”
The gargoyle rumbled to the side. Impatiently Harry leaped inside and up the winding staircase to Dumbledore’s office. He knocked loudly.
“Come in,” came Dumbledore’s voice. Harry burst into the room.
“I need a way to get to Wormtail! Now!” Harry burst out, panting.
Dumbledore looked up from his spot next to Fawkes’ pedestal, where he was thoughtfully stroking the phoenix’s feathers, a mildly surprised expression on his face.
“Indeed?” Dumbledore said.
“It was in Luna’s diary. Wormtail used the Imperius Curse on her! He used her to get to me and kill all those people!”
“Indeed,” Dumbledore said again, more pensively this time.
“I could just kill that son of a”“
“Yes, yes...” Dumbledore interrupted, holding up a hand. With his other he motioned to a chair in front of his desk. Harry sat down in the chair, while Dumbledore seated himself behind the desk. “It seems to me,” Dumbledore said slowly, “that what you are searching for is revenge. A chance to get your vengeance, which is highly understandable,” he said quickly when Harry opened his mouth. “But sometimes that search for vengeance can cause a person to...not think.”
Harry snorted.
“Harry, you have been searching for Wormtail ever since Voldemort’s death. What makes you think that you can find him now, at this moment?”
“That’s not”“
“Peace, peace. These things cannot be taken lightly. They must be considered and thought out considerably. Your time for revenge will come, Harry, but at times the patient force is the more powerful.”
“So what do I do?” Harry demanded. “Just sit and wait for Wormtail to come to me?”
“No...” Dumbledore said thoughtfully. “I believe that unless you are willing to wait a significantly long amount of time for that to happen, you are in need of a plan. Wormtail is bored. It is obvious because of his sudden attacks on the Wizengamot. He is restless, and so it may be a great deal simpler to lure him out of hiding.”
“How?” Harry asked, his interest peaked.
“A trap. Tempt him with an opportunity that he can’t pass up.”
“But what would he...” Harry started. Then he stopped and his eyes widened in understanding. He stood up excitedly. “The Wizengamot! We...we could gather them all together, and...and stage it as like an old reunion or something. If they’re all together, and we make it public…Wormtail might just come!” Harry’s speech began to increase in speed as he paced the floor in front of Dumbledore’s desk, “It would save him the effort of tracking each of them down! There they all would be, all together, perhaps even in the same room, just waiting...It’s perfect!” Harry clapped his hands together. “I don’t see how he could pass it up!”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. He nodded his head slightly and said, “You may want to speak to Arthur with this brilliant plan of yours. He will help you.”
Harry stopped his pacing, and stood directly in front of Dumbledore. “Thank you,” he said somberly. With that he turned on his heel and left Dumbledore’s office.
Harry was in the Minister’s office in little less than a half hour, informing Arthur of his plan. The Minister was nodding while Harry spoke, thoughtfully outlining his mouth with a finger. Arthur’s face was weary, as he and his family had been painfully busy the past week with Ron and Luna’s funeral. His already balding hair had almost surrendered it’s red to silver.
When Harry had finished Arthur sat back in his chair, a frown of concentration on his face.
“I think...” he began, “that this just may work...”
Harry let out a relived breath.
“I’ll contact the Daily Prophet,” Arthur said, beginning to scrawl on a memo. “I’ll tell them to run a story about a Wizengamot convention...or reunion, for all the old and new Wizengamot members. Naturally we’ll alert the Wizengamot of the real reason of the convention before hand, but Wormtail doesn’t have to know that. We’ll mention”we’ll mention that Dumbledore will not be able to attend the convention due to...due to the illness of his brother in Bolivia, so he will be out of town. That should eliminate the ‘threat’ of Dumbledore. Wormtail might not attack if he knows Dumbledore will be there.” Arthur finished writing on the memo, reread it with a look of satisfaction, then picked up his wand off the desk, pointed it at the memo and mumbled, “Cicatrix.”
The memo lifted off the desk, folded into a paper plane, and zoomed out of the Minister’s office. Arthur grinned at Harry, although his eyes were grim, “Now...we prepare.”
Reviewism of the Day:
Ronald Weasley:
"...from now on, I don't care if my REVIEWS spell die, Ron, die, I'm chucking them in the bin where they belong