He couldn’t believe this. Having experienced his cruelty first hand, he knew Malfoy was a slimeball “but he’d never thought Malfoy would be capable of such brutality, the disgusting Slytherin he is. Because of that fateful night, Harry had doubted his classmate’s lack of redemption, for Malfoy had not been able to kill Dumbledore. He had been about to make his own choice, the right one.
Malfoy seemed shaken by the scene before him. Maybe somewhere on his frozen, Stunned expression, there was regret.
Harry didn’t think Malfoy attacked both the Patils, which meant that another Death Eater or two could be lurking around. It wasn’t safe to linger; if the Death Eaters found them there, they’d be sitting ducks. Besides, Parvati needed medical attention now.
“Can you levitate objects yet, like people?” Harry asked Violet suddenly. She seemed surprised at first by the brisk, hard tone in his voice and shook her head. “Just say ‘Locomotor’ and the object you want to levitate.”
After her confirming nod, Harry turned to Malfoy and Parvati. “Locomotor Parvati and Malfoy!” he said clearly, and waited for Violet to levitate Padma’s body.
“What are we doing Harry? There are Death Eaters out there!”
“Aurors, too. Got a good chance that we’ll run into one of the good guys. If not, we’ll drop these three “Parvati gently “and fight them off, make so much noise that the Aurors can’t not hear us. We’re levitating people; we can’t escape to Muggle London to find St. Mungo’s ourselves,” he added, cutting off her incoming question.
Violet bit her lip but didn’t argue.
“C’mon, got to be careful.” Harry walked in front of his charges and checked the street carefully. “Looks clear. Be ready to put up a Shield Charm.” Harry knew that a mere Shield Charm would not stop an Unforgivable Curse, but Parvati was fading fast, and it was a risk he was willing to take.
They crept alongside the scarred brick walls, trying to stay in the shadows. It was hard trying to maneuver their charges and stay relatively hidden at the same time, but they managed.
Harry tapped on Violet’s shoulder and indicated the next alleyway, hoping to cut into a different “and hopefully Death Eater free “area of Diagon alley. Once they were safely in the median, Harry took one second to turn his head to make sure Violet was okay when a large pair of hands suddenly grabbed his shoulder.
“Protego!” he shouted, sending the person rebounding into the street, where Harry got a good luck at him. He sighed in relief when the man lacked the traits of a Death Eater, though a scowl remained on his face. Still, one could never be too careful . . .
Harry raised his wand and pointed it at the man. “You a Death Eater?” he asked, allowing his eyes to scan the area for any others.
“No,” the man said coldly. “You’re the one with the floating bodies, little boy. You kill ‘em all?”
Violet bristled in indignation, insulted. “We saved them, you dolt. Do we look like Death Eaters? Well,” she sobered up a bit, “she was already dead. That one’s barely alive, and the one in dark robes is a Death Eater we found at the scene. Who’re you?”
“Auror,” the man said warily, casually standing up.
“Prove it,” Violet demanded, carefully putting down Padma’s body and pointing her wand at him too.
He scowled at her, as if unable to comprehend that this insolent little girl wasn’t listening to an authority, especially if they were allies. He pointed to his robes, which had the Auror crest emblazoned on it. While one hand was doing that, the other was casually drifting to his pocket “
“Expelliarmus!” Harry shouted, shooting the wand that had slipped partway into the man’s hand onto the other side of the sidewalk. “Stay where you are!” he roared as the man turned to retrieve it. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t stop.
“Stupefy!” The man crumpled to the ground. “Keep an eye on them,” he told Violet, going over to examine the man more carefully. He began examining the inner pockets of the robe, looking for some identification of some sort. Ah-ha, he thought as he picked up an I.D. However, he frowned, realizing that the face in the picture didn’t match the man lying on the ground.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, realizing that they’d almost been tricked. This Death Eater obviously wasn’t being too cautious if he hadn’t changed the picture on the I.D. Could no one be trusted here? Guess they can’t just rely on finding someone who looks like an Auror anymore . . . they’d have to find someone that they recognized, like Kingsley, Tonks or his parents.
Harry involuntarily ran a hand through his disheveled hair, brushing some dust into his face. His fingers flexed involuntarily, irritated with the situation and his helplessness, his reliance on dumb luck. He deliberated for a few seconds about what to do with the Death Eater. He couldn’t just leave him here; there was no telling whether or not he would come after them again, and letting him rejoin his mates wasn’t an option.
Harry sighed. Looks like they’ve got another one in tow, then.
CRUNCH.
“Stupefy!” The red beam rebounded back at Harry, which he dodged easily.
“IMPEDIMENTA!” Harry bellowed, sending sparks in the rough location of the voice. “Run, Violet!” With a flick of his wand, he re-levitated Parvati and Malfoy before running right on Violet’s heel, shouting various curses behind him every few seconds.
They raced up the dark alley, the aged bricks surrounding them seeming to stretch on forever. Harry felt his own exhaustion from maintaining the levitation, but he couldn’t leave them there, not with their pursuers right behind them.
Even through the adrenaline, Harry could hear the stampeding footsteps advancing on them. Damn it! They were vulnerable in this narrow area. Thinking fast, Harry quickly flicked his wand at claustrophobic walls around them, sending the bricks crashing down in a huge cloud of dust. Harry held his breath as long as he could until they cleared the dust “he almost thought that they were out of the danger zone.
Almost.
Just as they finally reached the end of the alley, a flash of numerous dark robes blocked their way, at least four wands aimed in their direction. Anticipating what was going to happen, Harry shouted “PROTEGO,” manipulating the shield to appear further up, in front of Violet. Following his lead, Violet placed a shield of her own to strengthen their defense.
A blindingly red blast of various stunners came their way, ricocheting off the combination of their two shields. Harry was trying to think: how were they going to get past all of those Death Eaters, especially handicapped with their charges? He had half a mind to drop them all there and save Violet and himself (he really wouldn’t mind leaving Malfoy behind) “but he remembered Padma’s vacated eyes and Parvati’s failing condition. No, he could not leave them in the hands of these people in good conscience.
“The shield’s faltering!”
“PROTEGO! Keep redoing it!” Harry shouted back, his throat aching and ears throbbing from the shrill of spells hitting the shield.
For what seemed like forever, it had become an exhausting exchange of spells bouncing off the shield, which kept on being reapplied. Even though they had ceased levitating their charges long ago, Harry felt both magically and physically drained. He wasn’t sure if his endurance would outlast that of the more numerous others at the end of the obscure alley.
Finally, the spells stopped coming. Harry allowed his arm to rest at his side, but kept his senses ready for quick action if needed. All of his muscles ached in protest of the constant spellwork and battles; he doubted that he and Violet could last through another barrage of spells. Slightly in front of him, Violet, too, was breathing heavily, her legs shaking slightly. She looked like she was going to collapse any second.
“Put your wands on the ground!” A loud, booming voice echoed in the alley. “I repeat: put your wands on the ground!”
“You put your wands on the ground!” Harry retorted, unsure if they could even distinguish his words through his hoarse voice. He knew his comeback was a little childish, but honestly, he was too tired to think of anything better. Like hell he was going to disarm himself willingly; what a bunch of sodding idiots.
The boom was back. “Identify yourselves!”
Harry frowned. These guys sounded like Aurors; but then again, so did the Stunned lump lying on the floor, and he ended up being a Death Eater. But still, could all those people be Death Eaters in disguise? Well, better be safe than sorry.
“Identify yourselves!”
A pause. Harry could practically hear their impatience as the still air broke with the vibrations of the Sonorus spell. “The Dark Wizard Catching Task Force orders you to identify yourselves immediately or face the consequences!”
Why can’t they just say “Aurors”? Harry found himself wondering somewhat deliriously. His head was starting to throb; but he needed proof. Would it hurt if he gave away his name? It’s not like Voldemort wanted Harry’s head on a platter in this world, place, whatever. Still, the risk was high that retaliation would come . . .
“We’re Hogwarts students!”
Harry looked at Violet sharply, but she merely gave him a look clearly stating that she knew what she was doing. At least, he hoped she did. Harry listened closely to her words, prepared to jump in if needed.
“We were shopping for school supplies and got caught up in this.”
She turned around to Harry, hesitating, unsure of what to say next. Guess she didn’t really know what she was doing beyond that point. Harry narrowed his eyes in the direction of the supposed Aurors as more footsteps advanced towards them, probably reinforcements.
“We found two girls in an alley; the Death Eaters had already gotten to them. One’s dead.” Harry continued loudly, careful with his words. He got Violet’s attention and tilted his head at their two Death Eater prisoners, trying to get her to block them from view. If these Aurors were fakes, he didn’t want them to know that they had two of their own captive.
“HARRY?”
His head immediately snapped his head back towards the Aurors, surprised that someone had recognized his voice. Surely they couldn’t see them very well through the hazy surface of the shield? He didn’t respond immediately, but squinted at the shadows. Vaguely, he could make out two shadows trying to part the others, fighting its way towards them.
“HARRY JAMES POTTER, LOWER THAT SHIELD RIGHT NOW!”
He cringed involuntarily, immediately recognizing the new female voice. Well, that settled it; these people were definitely Aurors. Harry flicked his wand, canceling whatever was left of both his and Violet’s weakened defense. However, despite his reassurances that no one else in the world, Polyjuice or no, could put that much anger and maternal relief into Lily Potter’s voice but Lily Potter, instinct still kept Harry’s grip on his wand tight, prepared for any sign of trouble.
Lily and James Potter, who had been part of the reinforcements Harry had heard approaching, rushed over to their children, though the four bodies lying near them did not escape their notice.
Before they could ask, Harry said quickly. “Parvati’s badly hurt, she got hit with Sectu “er, I mean, some spell, and she was bleeding everywhere. I managed to stop it, but she still lost a lot of blood “she needs to go tot St. Mungo’s right now.”
James nodded and beckoned a young looking Auror over to them. “Apparate her to St. Mungo’s and admit her into the emergency ward immediately “it doesn’t look like she’ll last long. Hurry!” The Auror nodded briskly and lightly touched her arm, Disapparating with a CRACK a split second later. James opened his mouth, about to ask about the other girl, but the look in Harry’s eyes stopped him. Instead, he walked over to the other’s body, feeling Harry’s gaze on him all the way, and felt her pulse, though he knew she was dead from the moment he touched her icy skin.
Despite the rhythm of shoes making their way towards them, it seemed eerily silent. “You Stunned an Auror?” Lily asked incredulously, gesturing towards the imposter.
“How’d you know he was Stunned?” Violet asked, surprised.
Lily shrugged. “You see enough of both, you start to distinguish them. Not that it’s an excessive amount!” she added quickly at the look on Violet’s face.
The mention of the false Auror brought Harry’s attention back towards a not so minor detail: Malfoy. “We found a Death Eater standing near Parvati and . . . and Padma. I don’t think he killed Padma, but it looks like he’s the one who hurt Parvati. It’s Draco Malfoy.”
James’s face suddenly darkened, a nasty scowl emerging on his face, one that Harry recognized as similar to Snape’s expression whenever he looked at Harry. “Malfoy? As in Lucius’s son?”
But instead of waiting for an answer, James approached Malfoy and roughly grabbed a fistful of platinum blonde hair, yanking his head up so he was level with him.
“James!” Lily reprimanded sharply, but he didn’t listen.
“What’s your slimy git of a father got you doing now? Taught you the arts of torture, did he? You and I both know Voldemort wasn’t just out for some random fun . . . what was he trying to do? Damn it, answer me!”
“Potter, he’s Stunned,” the booming Auror reminded him. “We’ve still got possible Death Eaters around, and we’ve wasted enough manpower on this. Bring him and the other to HQ “interrogate them there. It’s not safe here.” He scrutinized Violet and Harry’s fatigue and wounds before adding, “Take the kids too “they can get patched up there. Lily, it’s up to you “we could use the manpower, but if you feel like you’ve got to take care of your children “d”
Lily nodded. “Thanks. But if things really get bad, owl us.”
The Auror nodded. “We will.” He turned to rejoin the rest of his squadron, but briefly turned back to Harry and Violet. “Good work,” he said before disappearing around the corner, the billowing of his robes rivaling even Snape’s.
“I’ll ask again. What was Voldemort doing in Diagon Alley?”
Malfoy turned his head away, refusing to look into James Potter’s eyes. James scrutinized the Death Eater’s body language, watched the way he never looked at James, how his hands firmly, spastically gripped the cold metal chair his arms were enclosed in, how sweat dripped from his pale nose, the shadows in his eyes that gave him an almost sickly, delirious look.
In other words, he didn’t seem like the snobby, malicious son of a Death Eater aristocrat.
James almost found himself sympathizing with Malfoy; under the bright lights, Malfoy seemed vulnerable, a child. He found that he had to remind himself that this was a hardened Death Eater as he tried to extract information out of him. James knew that there was still the interrogation going on with the other Death Eater elsewhere, but he felt that Malfoy would be the most likely to spill. He knew he had to break him down, break his confidence in the Dark Lord or any impending rescue from his influential father. Which is why his capture was extremely confidential, known only to a select few, who James himself had ensured were only Aurors in the Order.
He slammed his hands on the metal enclosing Malfoy’s hands hard, letting the echo resonate throughout the room before continuing. “Listen, both you and I know that Voldemort isn’t coming for you “don’t flinch like that, you’re his bloody servant . . .”
Malfoy muttered something incoherent, his eyes still fixated on the foreboding walls, recognizing that his freedom was on the other side, out of reach. What Malfoy didn’t know was that the remaining three Potters and two Aurors were watching, recording everything, and sometimes giving suggestions into James’s ear through a magical connection.
“What was that?” James asked sharply when Malfoy didn’t repeat what he had said.
“I’m expendable; I know that,” Malfoy repeated softly. “Everyone is.”
Maybe James wouldn’t have to break his spirit after all. “You’re right. Voldemort doesn’t care about anybody but himself. You, your father, your mother…you’re all pawns “bloody useful when needed, but no need to give a thought to it when he cuts you loose. If anything, he may have a man make sure that you never talk.” James let his gaze rest on his pallid face for a moment, willing him to look up. When he saw a person’s eyes, it’s a lot easier to tell whether or not he’s getting to them.
Malfoy’s breath became hitched and James caught some uncontrolled gasps, though the kid seemed to be trying his best to get it under control. “We can help you, you know “give you protection, give your family protection. That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it?” James added. Malfoy’s rigid movements at the mention of his family gave away exactly what his dilemma was. Death Eater or not, this was still a scared teenager in front of him, and it was a delicate balance James needed to walk.
“You can’t help me.”
But the desperation in his voice indicated that he wanted them to.
We’re not getting anywhere with this, Kingsley Shacklebolt’s voice rang in his ear. Move on to the two girls. See if there’s any remorse. If so, then we have something to work with.
James frowned. True, but what if that causes him to close up?
Then we’ll start over. Tonks and I are willing to stay as long as possible to get that information.
I second that!
James, if this goes on too long, I’m taking the kids home, Lily said, joining the conversation.
James took a moment to agree with his wife’s statement before turning his attention back to the interrogation. It’d probably be better if Harry and Violet leave soon “he didn’t want them to see if he had to resort to extreme measures, though certain of them are off limits. Despite the fact that Aurors are allowed to use Unforgivable Curses on prisoners, James had made an oath to never do that. If he did, what good was it? It’d make him just like them and lower him to the barbaric levels of the Death Eaters. When the good guys, the justified, starts using Unforgivables, the lines get blurred, and who’s to say that the thrill of their use won’t get to people’s heads? What will happen to the cause, to the morality they were supposed to protect if the Aurors essentially became a group of Ministry Death Eaters? There was a certain moral line that they had to draw to differentiate themselves from the Dark, and James refused to cross it.
“Let’s talk about the Patil twins,” James said suddenly, hoping to catch Malfoy off guard.
He got the desired effect. Malfoy finally met eyes, and a deep, nasty scowl crossed his face, the first aggressive sign he had shown so far in the interrogation. “Let’s not,” he snarled, the vulnerability gone.
“You don’t get a choice,” James retorted coldly, adjusting his techniques to Malfoy’s mood swing.
“I don’t have to talk to you.”
This is sudden burst of hostility was part of Malfoy’s defense mechanism, which meant that James was getting to him. Normally, the best time to get information out of someone is to throw them off kilter and anger them so much that they just spit the answer right in your face. Unfortunately, especially with the better trained Death Eaters, that usually isn’t as easy as it is in Muggle cinema. But the clear instability of Draco’s current emotional instability and the fact that he probably has had less practice with interrogations than the more experienced Death Eaters, that technique may just work with the kid.
“Did you kill Padma Patil?”
Malfoy looked away again. “No.”
“I can’t tell if you’re lying or not unless you look at me.”
“Piss off.”
“Not an option. What about Parvati? Did you perform a spell on her, torture her?”
“No,” Malfoy said, gritting his teeth together hard while his balled fists shook involuntarily, as if trying to squeeze the memory out of them.
“Now I know you’re lying to me. I don’t like liars, Malfoy. Makes you untrustworthy.”
“YOU’RE THE BLOODY UNTRUSTWORTHY ONE!” Malfoy screamed, sending spit flying onto James’s right cheek.
James cocked one eyebrow. “Really?” he said calmly. “Why am I untrustworthy?”
Malfoy took a deep breath in attempts to control his breathing. So the mini Death Eater did have some interrogation skills after all.
“I have a right to a council,” he said at last.
James leaned forward until he noticed the kid shrinking back a little. “This isn’t some inane case out of a History of Magic textbook, Malfoy; you’re a criminal, a Death Eater, and a possibly sadistic murderer…sorry, but the truth is there aren’t many options for you. Not unless you stop lying and diverting me and answer my questions “truthfully.”
“I’m underage,” Malfoy sputtered. “You “you’re not allowed to “”
“Yeah, well, torturing and murdering people are also illegal, Malfoy, but it seems that you and your dear master have no qualms about that.”
“You don’t know anything,” the boy said, shaking his damp blonde head. “You’re a Potter, a sheltered, arrogant, show off bastard who knows nothing about suffering...”
James suddenly found his wand half out of his pocket. Closing his eyes for a moment, he regained his posture, waving the insult aside, though he wasn’t sure if Malfoy was talking about James specifically.
“You talking about me or my son?” he asked sharply, allowing a twinge of anger to seep out.
Malfoy’s nostrils flared as he looked up at James, malice sparkling in his eyes. “The whole bloody litter.”
Harry’s hands clenched tightly at this. Seems like Malfoy is the same as ever, with illusions that Harry actually did things to get attention, that he was some smug prat; hypocritically, all the accusations he’s thrown at him, all the names he’s called Harry really applied to himself, the heir of the Malfoy estate.
“Mum,” he said suddenly. “I want to talk to Malfoy.”
The other four occupants of the room turned swiftly towards him. “Out of the question,” Lily said firmly. “He’s dangerous, and I’m not taking that risk. Besides, you’ve had enough excitement for today.”
“Mum, Harry’s the one who caught him,” Violet pointed out. “And he went to school with him for six years “he can probably get information out of him better than anyone else. I mean, they both definitely know how to provoke the other.”
“Yes, I remember the mountain of letters we’ve received over the years about the duels Harry got himself into,” Lily said dryly. “We appreciate that you turned over two Death Eaters and brought Parvati Patil medical attention but “”
“But it’s not enough,” Harry interrupted. “We only got things half done, I need to talk to him.”
“Harry, you might make it worse,” Kingsley said gently. “If there is a lot of bad blood between you two it might make him more determined to keep you out of the loop.”
“Then we’ll start over again,” Violet said, mimicking Kingsley’s words when James had asked that question. It surprised Harry that Violet would so willingly vouch for him with such fervor. If anything, he’d think that she would want to come in with him, but it seemed that she only wanted to help Harry get his request.
“We’ll do nothing,” Lily insisted, maternal authority in her voice. “And how do you know what Kingsley said to Dad anyway?”
Tonks raised her hand, accidentally sending her pen flying into the opposite wall. “I thought they would want to be involved with the interrogation too “they’ve proven themselves enough.” She beamed at them.
Lily sighed. Too tired to fight this, she pitched the idea to James, trying to channel a great big “NO” into his brain; if the interrogator rejected Harry’s idea, then it’d definitely be the last word. James, Harry wants to question Malfoy.
Okay.
WHAT?!
Well, they have history “bad history, I know, but still history “so he knows how to talk to him. C’mon Lily, you know how manipulative Harry can be sometimes “
I am?
Remember the Christmas guilt trip a few years ago?
Er . . . sure.
Well there you go. I think it’s worth a try. I’ll stand in, wand ready “I wouldn’t let him in if I thought it’d endanger him.
Lily wanted to strangle her husband. How could he be so thick as to put their son in there with a Death Eater! Merlin, why hadn’t she listened to the maternal instincts that had told her to drag Harry and Violet out of there before anything could come out of Harry’s request? She had half a mind to do that now, despite the avid protests that were sure to come, but she also thought James was partially right. Maybe this could really help shed light on what Voldemort was doing in Diagon Alley.
Kingsley, Tonks? Lily asked desperately. Do you agree with this?
Both did. “Don’t worry, Lily, you know James won’t let anything happen to Harry while he’s in there,” Tonks reassured her.
She was not convinced.
However, Harry was already crossing the room to where he saw James enter the room. He tried turning the knob like usual, but found that it was stuck fast. Er “how do I get in?
Password, Lily answered, though the tone of her voice indicated that she had no intention of telling him what it was.
However, Tonks was willing to share that bit of information, and Harry stepped into the interrogation room. It was rather foreboding, he decided, and was definitely not a friendly environment, which would have to do in order to serve its purpose. In the middle of the room, James stepped a few good feet away from Malfoy before extracting his wand, keeping it pointed at the blonde before stepping back to Harry.
“Don’t try to push him too hard, Harry,” he warned, “Make sure your wand is safe where he can’t take it, and step back immediately if you feel like you’re in danger. Don’t make it personal, but you can use it if you feel it’s to your advantage. Remember: just get the information, don’t gloat or anything.”
Harry nodded, wondering if the Harry of this place actually was a slight braggart.
“Okay,” James said, a shadow of worry lines creasing his face, “Just remember that I’m right here. Your safety is first priority, okay?” He frowned as if he were second guessing his decision, so before he could, Harry nodded and walked over to Malfoy, pulling up a chair, spinning it around, and sitting so he was level with the blonde.
Harry wasn’t exactly sure why he was doing this; maybe it was that innate urge to take action coming over him again, or the fact that he could get a lot of useful information from this. Maybe it was an additional instinct to gain trust from the people of this place, just in case anything went wrong.
However, he was taking a risk doing this, especially since he knew information that he possibly should not know, like the details of the night of Dumbledore’s death . . . well, he supposed he could chalk it up to Hogwarts gossip, but even that gets twisted in retellings. Actually, he had no idea if the stuff he knew even happened here, but he had to take a chance if he was going to get anything useful out of Malfoy.
The prisoner in question was staring at him, looking slightly confused as to why an ex-classmate and rival was talking to him. Harry rested his arms on the chair backing, looking straight into those grey eyes. After a few seconds deliberation, he raised his feeble mind shields in an attempt to keep anyone from looking through his mind while he was distracted, and lowered his voice so only Malfoy could hear him.
“On the tower, you lowered your wand; you weren’t going to kill Dumbledore. Why?”
Malfoy’s neutrality dropped immediately as his mouth fell open slightly, his eyes widening in fear and surprise. Then he seemed to come to himself, instantly shutting his mouth rapidly, the clank of his teeth grinding together echoing slightly. His face closed off and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Potter.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Harry pressed further, encouraged by Malfoy’s negative reaction. Was Malfoy always this bad a liar?
“If I weren’t stuck in this chair, I wouldn’t hesitate to curse you,” he sneered, trying to get the upper hand back.
Harry smiled dryly. “I don’t doubt it. So, you going to tell me if you were going to take Professor Dumbledore’s offer for help or not?” Harry made every attempt to make his voice calm and casual, almost as if this were a conversation about the weather. He figured Malfoy was rattled enough; he just needed a dose of reality. Plus, if Malfoy got worked up, Harry might too, and there’d be shouting and any slips that are extremely likely come out would be really bad.
Malfoy regarded Harry warily. “I would never take anything from Muggle loving scum like Dumbledore,” he said half-heartedly.
“You didn’t even try,” Harry pointed out, frowning. “I figured Snape or someone would have trained you better than that.” What happened to the kid who broke Harry’s nose on the train sixth year? He tried not to flinch at the memory “not exactly one of the best moments for either of them.
Harry cast his mind around to find way to get an answer for something that would benefit both the Aurors and Harry’s desire for information on the current situation. Well, no matter what Malfoy said, it had looked like he wanted to take Dumbledore’s offer that night.
He noticed James looking at him strangely, probably wondering why they were talking in such low voices. However, James didn’t say anything, so he probably trusted that Harry was making some progress. He wished he were.
“Why’d you kill Padma?” Harry attacked suddenly, watching his reaction closely. First, he needed to see if his suspicions were right, that Malfoy really hadn’t killed Padma “or if he at least felt regret about it.
As expected, Malfoy stiffened. “I didn’t.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? That’s all you’re going to say, ‘okay’?”
“I believe you.”
“You believe me?!”
Harry frowned, peeved. “You know, repeating everything I say is getting annoying. Do you want to be incriminated?”
Malfoy couldn’t hide his surprise, and as much as he wanted to, there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. It sort of made sense, since James had been trying to intimidate the information out of him before; Harry suspected that he hadn’t responded to that tactic because Voldemort proved to be a much more menacing entity than James Potter. A couple of hours in a cell with an Auror were nothing compared to ten seconds under Voldmort’s Cruciatus Curse.
As dense as Malfoy was currently being, Harry knew that this was the only way to get anything out of him. After all, an offer for help almost saved both him and Professor Dumbledore “Harry flinched at the mental image of the Headmaster’s body falling towards the ground “from the situation they were currently in.
Harry decided to move on; he noticed James looking a bit fidgety, and figured he didn’t have much time left until his parents had it with the danger and bodily dragged him out of the interrogation room.
“What about Parvati?” Harry asked suddenly, once again catching Malfoy off guard. He’d never seen the blonde this jumpy before. Harry considered adding something about Sectumsempra, but realized that it would be too dangerous.
“I didn’t kill her,” Malfoy muttered.
“But you attacked her.”
Malfoy hesitated.
“Lying won’t help.”
But Malfoy didn’t trust him. “You’re a bloody Potter, a filthy blood traitor who’d sell me out in a sec “” Malfoy’s sentence was cut off as he sputtered and tried to spit out the bucketful of water that had been thrown into his big, open mouth.
Harry resisted the laugh that bubbled in his chest, still holding onto the water bucket that he had just conjured seconds before. “Liked that, did you?” Harry couldn’t resist saying, “Wiped the slime off a bit, that’s for sure.”
Malfoy glared, water still dripping off of his hair, turned darker with the water, which in itself hadn’t been particularly clean. He looked about ready to rear up and attack Harry. He did attempt to shake his arms menacingly, but it didn’t have much of an effect, considering the fact that they were encased in steel.
“I’ll kill you,” Malfoy growled.
Harry leaned forward, suddenly serious again. “I don’t think you can. You’re not a killer; you don’t have it in you.” In that moment, eyes wide, Harry realized something. “You’re nothing but a common bully, Malfoy, nothing but another Dudley Dursley. Only difference is that Dudley had his fists and big friends to rely on “you have Daddy’s pocket change.”
Somewhat expectedly, Malfoy attempted to launch himself from his chair, but only made it about an inch forward. “I’m better than any of you or any of your blood traitor, half-blood or Mudblood friends!” he said fiercely, though he sounded as if he were also trying to convince himself, “You’re nothing!”
Looking at him, Harry felt a twinge of sorrow. “I’m not the one trapped in a steel chair,” he said quietly, without spite.
That shut Malfoy up. Anger blazed in his cold grey eyes for a moment, but the flames dwindled until they held an almost hollow look. He looked away, and Harry knew that he would lose whatever little cooperation he had soon.
“Malfoy “Malfoy. Draco?”
He looked up reluctantly, the sharp, authoritive tone in Harry’s voice causing an obedience instinct to flare up.
“What did Voldemort want in Diagon Alley?”
He didn’t answer.
“Just tell me, and we’ll help; the Ministry, Dumbledore . . .”
Malfoy suddenly went rigid, his face paling more than usual. “Dumbledore’s dead.” He said firmly. “He’s dead; Professor Snape killed him . . .”
“You know what I mean,” Harry said, “Dumbledore’s people, his supporters, the good guys. He was willing to help you before, why can’t you trust his memory now?”
“Only when I held a wand to him!”
“Because he knew that being a Death Eater would destroy you,” Harry retorted, his temper flaring. How dare Malfoy disrespect Professor Dumbledore’s memory? Dumbledore, who had offered him help, who’d known about Malfoy’s plans for most of the school year, but did nothing to stop it because of the threat Malfoy was under . . . Dumbledore, who always gave second chances.
“He tried to help you,” Harry said, his tone dangerous; he didn’t notice that his voice was getting progressively louder, his flimsy Occlumency shields disappearing the angrier he got, the more his fists shook with rage. “He tried to save you and your family! And you’re going to throw it back in his face by killing his students, by refusing to help us when you have the chance! You don’t like Voldemort, that much is obvious “you’re a prick, you’re selfish, you’re a bully, you like having someone bigger protecting you, like Wormtail “but you’re also a coward. You’re nothing but a big BLOODY COWARD!”
“HARRY!” James suddenly grabbed Harry’s arm and dragged him across the room. “That’s enough!” Looking tired and stern, they left an unusually quiet Malfoy behind, shutting the steel door behind them and reactivating the magical wards.
Immediately, Harry was assaulted by Lily, who looked torn between lecturing and embracing him. She compromised by squashing him in a bone breaking hug while snapping at him all the while. “You promised you’d keep control in there, Harry! I thought Malfoy was going to bite your nose off “”
“Congratulations, Harry,” a deep voice said from behind Lily.
“Er “what?” Harry asked, confused. Everyone else looked angry beyond belief at him, despite the fact that he felt something had come out of it; what, exactly, he wasn’t sure, but something.
Kingsley had been the one who had spoken, with Tonks smiling in approval next to him. “You laid the seeds for a deal to be made,” Tonks explained, noticing Lily’s confused glance. “Look at him; I think your words really hit him hard.”
“So are you going to use Veritaserum on him? Wait, why didn’t you use it on him in the first place?” Harry asked.
“He’s a minor,” James explained. “We’re not allowed to use it on him without parental consent, and well “I doubt that’d work out. We’re not above the law, Harry, and I refuse to sink down that low. That saved my life once, remember? I alone was spared of the team because I wasn’t willing to use the Cruciatus on a prisoner, who broke out later and unfortunately got revenge on . . . on the others.”
Harry had to agree. Malfoy’s trust in them would be destroyed beyond repair if they did that, especially if he knew the law, which he probably did, considering who his father was.
“Enough of this,” Lily ordered. “You’re all tired, it’s been a traumatic day, and you two are going home now. No arguing, young lady,” she added as Violet opened her mouth to protest. “And you’re going to keep Harry’s part in this off the books?” she added to Tonks, who nodded. After saying good-bye, the Potter family turned to leave when a voice stopped them.
“Before you go “Harry, how did you know the details about Albus Dumbledore’s death?” Kingsley asked. Harry stiffened, but he realized that he was just asking out of curiosity, not suspicion.
“Gossip,” Harry replied simply, as if that was all the explanation needed.
“Summer holiday’s gone by fast, hasn’t it?”
Harry blinked. “What?” His mind had been on the lack of information he had found about this place. There were a lot of yellow editions of the Daily Prophet about Neville, proclaiming him the Boy-Who-Lived and announcing that his grandmother had custody of him. After really thinking about it, it confused Harry about why Neville’s grandmother on his father’s side would take care of him if his mother had made the sacrifice. But then, maybe the details were switched and it was Frank Longbottom to whom the blood protection could be attributed to, or both. Maybe they hadn’t had as much of an opportunity to fight or flee as Harry’s parents had, and even then it hadn’t been a substantial amount of time.
Harry had even gone to the Ministry of Magic with James, snuck off while he was called to a false meeting by a memo that Harry had written and bewitched. It was then that Harry had gotten into the actual Daily Prophet archives to search for the desired information. Strangely enough, a lot of those had been missing there, at the source, which had led Harry to believe that there was a lot more corruption in the Daily Prophet than he’d originally thought. Perhaps there were merely unorganized…either way, it hadn’t helped Harry, but merely earned him a lecture for leaving the Magical Law Enforcement department against James’s orders.
Essentially, there had been far too many gaps in the official archives to really piece together everything, though judging by the current, far too optimistic articles, the Daily Prophet as it is now cannot be trusted to provide the whole truth. Harry would just have to wait until he had access to the Hogwarts library “surely they would have a more extensive archive.
He hadn’t realized that he had once again tuned Violet out until she actually poked the side of his head. “Harry, you’re daydreaming again.”
“What?” Harry scowled, not exactly in the greatest of moods. They had just found out today the results from the interrogation ages ago, but only after a lot of nagging, begging, and guilt inducing on Violet’s part. Harry, though he asked them for the results, didn’t feel comfortable enough to actually join Violet in the whining.
Lily and James hadn’t wanted to tell them anything, especially after Harry’s outburst last time. However, eventually they caved in the morning prior to when they had to leave for Hogwarts.
“It really bothers me,” Violet commented, as if reading exactly what was on Harry’s mind, “that there’s a huge, large scale attack about to happen that we can’t do anything about. I mean, how can the Death Eater not know when or where it’s gonna happen?”
“He’s too low “a grunt,” Harry explained easily. “If this was as big as he says, only those at the top would know.” Harry hesitated. “Malfoy knows, I think “cause of his Dad, but according to Mum, he isn’t talking...”
Violet shrugged. “They could have just used Veritaserum, but morals got in the way “”
“You say that like it’s bad,” Harry commented, frowning. “It’s not. Besides, didn’t Dad say that Veritaserum hadn’t worked on Malfoy when the Minister had made him give it to him? His mind was too strong, and Veritaserum has its limits on who it’ll work on.”
Violet’s expression darkened as she propped her shoes on Harry’s bed absently, not acknowledging him as he shoved her feet off the sheets, leaving clumps of dirt where her shoes had been. “Dad could have given it to him during your row with Malfoy. That really got to him “especially the water. Would have been vulnerable then. But nooo . . . it would have been morally improper.”
“Our side’s got to keep their principles intact “”
“This is war.”
“Sink to the Death Eaters’ level, we become them.”
Violet pursed her lips, staring at Harry strangely. “Hmm. Guess you don’t believe in sacrifice?”
Harry felt ripples of anger inside him. Him, not believe in sacrifice? His whole bloody life has been filled with it, filled with people dying for him, because of him; in becoming the Boy-Who-Lived, any semblance of a normal life was gone, sacrificed for the good of the wizarding world.
Violet observed the anger and bitterness in Harry’s expressive green eyes with interest. “What, something bothering you?” she asked, taking on a somewhat sly tone.
Harry glared at her. “Should probably sleep,” he said off handily. “Hogwarts tomorrow and all.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, still observing him in an almost calculating manner. “All right,” she said at last. “Night, then.”
With that, she got up and walked towards the door, flipping her Weasley-rivaled hair behind her as the door closed with a click.
“I can’t wait for Christmas holiday already,” Lily pronounced, eyes bright against the background of the Hogwarts Express’s black smoke.
“I think pregnancy’s made you emotional, dear,” James said sweetly. “Usually we can’t wait to get rid of these two.”
Violet scowled playfully. “No Christmas presents for you, then.”
James smirked. “Likewise. But I still think I merit a goodbye hug at the very least, don’t you think?”
Pausing for a few full seconds, pondering this, Violet at last broke into a smile and hugged her father tightly before hugging her mother as well. After she was done, Harry also said his goodbyes. Though he was relieved to be going somewhere familiar, where tons of resources were available for him (definitely more helpful than the stuff he had discovered “or rather, had not discovered). However, he found himself missing the homely comforts of the Potter house, as well as the parents he never got to know. Harry had promised himself that he wouldn’t get attached and well “it looks like he had failed miserably.
Nevertheless, he knew his priority was his world, so he would do everything in his power to get back.
Harry turned to walk towards the train when he was suddenly assaulted by a mass of red hair.
“Wha “” he quickly turned around, wondering why Violet was attacking him when he saw her standing off to the side, looking amused. The redhead clutching onto him looked up, causing Harry’s face to automatically light up at the sight of Ginny Weasley.
“Hey Harry,” she said, letting go of him. “How was your summer?”
“Eventful,” Harry responded easily, the fact that this wasn’t necessarily his Ginny completely slipping his mind.
Ginny ran a sheepish hand through her hair. “Sorry I didn’t owl that much “Errol got some sort of sickness and can’t do much now, and Ron refuses to let me use Pig.” Ginny suddenly scowled. “My brother’s being an overprotective git, he is. And he usually gets along just fine with you too.”
Harry suddenly remembered Ron’s hostile letter. Guess he really was just another Dean Thomas to his best friend now . . .
“How was Egypt, Gin?” Violet broke in during Harry’s lapse of speech. “They let you go into the cursed tombs this time?”
Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, some if it was disgusting. Plus, the cost of international owl post over there is really expensive...” she trailed off, blushing in embarrassment. “But I did bring your birthday present with me, Harry, so you’ve got to open it later.”
“Ginny dear, the train’s about to leave,” the familiar voice of Mrs. Weasley said worriedly as she and a reluctant Ron walked over to them. “Hello, Harry, had a nice summer? Oh, and Lily, James, how are you? Good? I heard there was a nasty Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley while we were gone…oh, that’s unfortunate. The Patils were always very nice people.”
Harry frowned, wondering why she was treating the Potters somewhat distantly when he remembered that Order members weren’t supposed to call much attention to themselves if they normally didn’t talk, like how Kingsley and Mr. Weasley had greeted each other before Harry’s trial prior to fifth year.
Sure enough, Mrs. Weasley had discreetly muttered something inaudible as she was passing them towards the barrier. “Have a good term, everyone,” she said before disappearing.
“Shall we?” Ginny said, picking up her things.
Harry couldn’t help but notice Ron glaring at him out of the corner of his eye.
This unnerved him greatly, for the last time he remembered things being this frosty between Ron and him was during fourth year, because of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry’s thoughts preoccupied him as they ascended the steps off the platform and into the Hogwarts Express.
“Harry?” Violet’s voice broke him out of his reverie. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the Head compartment?”
It took Harry a few seconds to remember the Head Boy badge tucked away inside his trunk. “Oh…right. See you later, then.”
Ginny and Violet nodded as they separated in the corridor. Actually, Harry had no bloody idea where the Head compartment was, but after a bit of scanning, he found it fairly quickly. The brass plaque on the door made it easy to identify.
As he slid the door open, Harry registered an extremely familiar bush of brown hair sitting next to the window, a large book predictably resting on her lap.
“Hermione!” he said happily, hoping that at least one of his best friends didn’t resent him“
No such luck.