15: Restraint
All things considered, the arrest of his godson had not been the news that Harry Potter had wanted to come home to.
It had been a very long few days. Years in hiding in Brazil had done nothing more for Cornelius Fudge than add several inches to his girth and provide him with a highly unsettling tendency to wear string vest robes. But as Harry strode up to the white beach house in Rio with its gold-railed balcony and cheerful red flower baskets, the finally-confirmed extradition notice in this hand, all he could think about was Sirius, emaciated and living on rats in his years on the run. His godfather had hidden, scrounged, and starved, and finally driven himself to the edge of madness trapped within a dark and gloomy reminder of a life he’d hated, all because of a crime he hadn’t even committed. Fudge had evaded a few months in Azkaban for denials that had cost lives, and had lived like a king in the sun for years under the assumed name of Henry Toffee. He was even influential enough in local wizarding circles to fling barriers up to halt the extradition process, by claiming it was an absurd case of mistaken identity. He’d been sitting on his wooden deck sipping a margarita when Harry had rounded the corner and informed him that, once again, all his machinations had been in vain, and he was finally going to face the consequences of his wilful stupidity. And after listening to his spluttering protestations that he hadn’t really committed a crime after all, what was all the fuss about through sixteen Floo connections, it was all Harry could do to keep his wand sheathed and painful hexes from his lips.
Even as an Auror, it was hard to believe in justice when a good man had died after years of undeserved misery, while one of the bureaucrats responsible for that had spent the last two decades lapping up the rays on a South American beach in order to avoid a couple of months in prison. And so, when Harry had returned, he’d been irritated enough to wave away the attempts of Kyra Stone - the Auror Office Administrator that Harry had appointed to deal with the paperwork that often kept his Aurors from active duties - to have a quiet word about some arrest or other that Zenobia Moon had just made, and insisted that he had to deal with Fudge and was not to be disturbed. Hermione had already been waiting for him, steely-eyed, in the interview room next to her office and they had spent the rest of the afternoon grilling Fudge until his corners singed about everything they could think of. It had been past four in the afternoon when Zach Woodvine, the Auror who’d assisted Harry in Rio, had been summoned to escort the former Minister down to the Ministry Holding Cells, and Harry and Hermione had emerged, grinning triumphantly, to find Ron standing anxiously in the corridor outside, wearing an expression that did not bode well for the delivery of glad tidings.
And it was then that Harry found out just what it was Kyra had been trying to tell him.
Teddy had been arrested.
Harry suspected he couldn’t have reached his office any faster if he’d Apparated. Kyra was already waiting for him, looking anxious, as she offered him the charge sheet Zenobia had submitted earlier that day. One look at the charges sent Harry’s stomach plunging into infinite depths of cold.
Intention to pervert the course of history.
As his eyes raked over the details of the case, the damage to the Portal, Penny’s injury, his mind flashed back to Monday night - to the notes scribbled in Teddy’s hand that Victoire had rushed to bring him, to Teddy’s innocent expression and solemnly sworn oath. He’d said the words himself, of course; if you’re about to try and spin your way out of this, forget it. I’ve heard stories from Neville about your talent for talking yourself out of trouble when you were at school, and I know exactly where you get it from… but he’d never actually believed that his godson was capable of standing there and lying to his face, that he would swear an oath that he had no intention of keeping. Had he walked away from Harry and gone straight into the next room to break it? Had trying to do it without the notes he had surrendered so easily resulted in damage and the inevitable failure? Did he really know Teddy Lupin at all? Or was this all some kind of misunderstanding? Had his notes somehow come to light since Harry had stashed them in his study desk three days before, meaning he was being blamed for something he hadn’t actually done?
He needed to talk to Teddy. Now.
He’d got as far as the lift before Kyra caught up with him, her expression both nervous and sympathetic as she handed him a second piece of paper, this time an official MLE letter. It was addressed to him.
He managed to keep reading for about ten seconds before turning the letter sideways and ripping it neatly in two.
He hadn’t even noticed that Hermione had caught up with them until he saw her dive down to collect the two halves, ordering Ron in no uncertain terms to keep Harry exactly where he was. Harry didn’t struggle with his best mate in the end, but it was a close-run thing as his blood boiled furiously at the nerve, the bloody nerve of what had been written, and how dare they, what gave them the right to dictate to him what he could and couldn’t do…
“What does it say?” Ron’s quiet query cut through the red, misty rage that had threatened to engulf Harry, as he watched Hermione holding the two halves of the letter awkwardly together as she performed a quick Reparo and scanned over the contents. Her eyes darkened as she frowned grimly.
“Harry’s been banned from seeing Teddy,” she replied with what Harry thought was inexplicable calmness. “That little…oik… Aloysius Sproule got himself assigned to Teddy’s prosecution while I was caught up with Fudge, and he’s wasted no time in neutralising the advantage that Teddy might gain from having a godfather who’s Head of the Auror Department. He’s applied for a ban on Harry having any involvement in the case on the grounds of personal bias, and that includes visiting rights. If Harry breaks it, he’ll be removed from duty.” She shook her head furiously, her plait swinging from side to side behind her like a whiplash. “I can’t believe that Spyers approved this; the idiot probably didn’t even read what he was signing. And all the odds are that Sproule’s in his office now trying to get me banned too before I realise what he’s done. Well, I’m not having it!” Her eyes glowed fiercely as she crumpled the restraining letter in her hands. “Ron, take Harry to his office and make sure he stays there until I get back. I’m going to speak to Matilda and get myself assigned to head Teddy’s defence team if it’s the last thing I do, and this will be the first thing I overturn!”
Flourishing her fistful of crushed letter, Hermione turned sharply on her heel and stalked away in the direction of the MLE offices. Harry watched her go, her furious indignation and determination damping down the raging fire of his anger until it burned low enough to be caged once more. Breathing heavily, Harry released a deep sigh.
“I want to bloody kill that Sproule,” he muttered, although the fierce edge was dulled by sudden weariness. His dislike of Aloysius Sproule was long and well-founded, dating back to the days when, as a newly-qualified legal representative for the Ministry, Sproule had defended Dolores Umbridge during her trial with a zeal that all concerned had found sickening. It’d done his career enough harm that he’d never advanced much under Kingsley’s kinder regime, but he still popped up occasionally to make a nuisance of himself. It had been a desire to counterbalance Sproule and his ilk that had led Hermione to move on from her work creating legislation to ease the lives of magical creatures such as werewolves and house-elves into full-blown Wizengamot law. She and Sproule had clashed on many occasions, and Harry had a feeling that she was right when she said the little git was probably working on excluding her for spurious reasons if he could get away with it. After all, plenty of Ministry workers had had the chance to see Hermione and Teddy sharing cheerful lunches together in the Ministry canteen and debating temporal mechanics.
“Get in line, mate.” Although Ron was still holding his arm, his grip was loosening. “Come on, let’s go back to your office and wait, huh? Let Hermione kick his pasty arse. She enjoys it and she’s had more practice.”
“In a minute.” Still breathing hard, Harry turned to face Kyra, who had been waiting awkwardly to one side. “Kyra, where’s Zenobia? I want a word with her.”
Kyra sighed. “She’s on patrol with Hector Williamson in Knockturn Alley. But Harry, go easy on her. Edgar Fortescue came up this morning and said his boss had told him to take an Auror with him to question a workmate, and she happened to be available. It could have been anyone. Don’t blame her for doing her job.”
“I won’t.” Harry fought down the feelings of resentment he had indeed been fostering against his former year-mate. “You’re right, of course. I just wanted a first-hand account of what happened. Sproule can’t ban me from talking to my staff, can he?”
Kyra nodded with a wan smile. “I’ll send her by when she gets back. And Harry “ we all like Teddy. I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding.”
But as he watched her blonde hair vanish back down the corridor, Harry wished he could share her confidence.
I as good as promised Lupin and Tonks I’d look after you the day I agreed to be godfather. Please, Teddy, don’t have been this stupid. Don’t throw everything you have away to try and save two people who are twenty years past saving.
Tea-making had never been one of Ron’s strongest suits, but he managed to turn out two acceptable cups without incident as he and Harry settled in Harry’s poky office to wait for Hermione’s return.
“So how did you get involved in this?” Harry asked Ron, absently turning his mug one way and the other in his hands. “I thought you’d be flat out, watching over both shops while George is away.”
Ron shrugged. “Well Derek “ you know, Verity’s nephew? He’s got the Hogsmeade branch covered, so I only had to worry about Diagon Alley, and I had Jasper helping out there, as well as Aeron Jordan on summer work experience. And when I heard about Penny on Tuesday “ well, I had to go home.”
Harry nodded with a slight smile, very familiar with the Weasley homing instinct at times of emergency. It had always amused him that however far and wide the six remaining Weasley children had scattered, The Burrow was always Home. He couldn’t imagine ever feeling that way about Privet Drive. He often wondered what might have been at the house in Godric’s Hollow.
“I was there before lunchtime, helping with the kids when Ginny came by.” Ron continued, oblivious to his friend’s absent musings. “Apparently Teddy used his Floo call to contact Grimmauld Place. She asked Mum to watch the kids, and me to come down here and tell you as soon as you got back that Teddy was asking for you. Then she went back to your place to wait in case there was any more news. I came down here and waited by your office for you to turn up, only to find I’d missed you and you’d gone all do not disturb with Hermione and Fudge. Kyra said she’d tried to tell you straight off, because you needed to know, but you’d been too busy to listen.”
Harry felt a sudden shock as it occurred to him that he wasn’t the only one who needed to know about Teddy. “Has anyone told Andromeda? She’s in Vienna until tomorrow, isn’t she?”
Ron leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “I reckon she knows, mate. Victoire went over to Teddy’s on Tuesday and she was there with him. Besides, didn’t that charge sheet you were looking at have her name on it?”
Harry grabbed the sheet from where he had dropped it on his desk. And indeed, listed as present at the arrest was one Andromeda Tonks.
He felt a shameful surge of relief that he did not have to be the one to deliver the news; Andromeda doted on Teddy, her daughter’s only child and her husband’s namesake, and the idea of losing him would not go down well. Having to tell her that he had been arrested on charges that could possibly land him in Azkaban was not a prospect he would have savoured. Andromeda was a strong woman, but the loss of her family twenty years before remained a fragile subject, and Teddy had always been her lifeline whenever the matter was forced into the light. The image of her on the day after the battle, when he had gone to see her and Teddy to express his sorrow, and found her sobbing inconsolably over his crib, had stayed with him ever since.
“Is it wrong to be relieved I don’t have to tell her?” he asked, directing the rueful question towards the ceiling.
“Course not.” Ron’s voice was quiet and oddly understanding. “And anyway, Ginny’s already thought of it. She sent an owl off and invited her to come to Grimmauld Place to wait for news. She may be there already.”
Harry allowed himself the brief indulgence of an affectionate smile. One of the reasons he loved Ginny so much was her compassion, and the fact she generally thought of things he would want to do even before he did.
“Good,” he replied, taking a brief sip of his now rather lukewarm tea. “She shouldn’t be on her own at a time like…”
The abrupt opening of the door of his office killed the rest of the sentence as Hermione marched in, kicking the door shut behind her, and throwing herself into a free chair as soon as she had thumped down a small mountain of papers and legal books on Harry’s desk.
“I got the case,” she declared without preamble. “But only on the condition I work alongside someone neutral, so Padma Goldstein’s working with me.”
Her frown did not match what Harry had considered to be positive news, and Ron had obviously read her face and made the same assumption.
“But that’s good, right?” he said curiously, reaching out one hand briefly to squeeze his wife’s fingers. “I mean, you’re always saying how Padma’s really good at the job, and she won’t take any crap from Sproule either…”
“It would be wonderful,” Hermione replied archly, “if she hadn’t taken the day off to visit Parvati and her new niece in hospital. She won’t be back until tomorrow morning and I’m not allowed to see Teddy or interview him without her present. Spyers has ruled.”
Ron pulled a face. “Can’t you speak to Matilda? Get her to tell him to get stuffed!”
Hermione’s smile was affectionate, if a little weary. “I really wish I could. But he’s the department Arbiter “ that’s his job, to make independent decisions and ensure caseloads are assigned without any hint of personal bias. Kingsley introduced the role to stop the kind of nepotism and cronyism that got so many Death Eaters off on grounds of Imperius during the last war. Half the Wizengamot were distant relatives of the accused, and many more were in the pay of the likes of Malfoy. Spyers has to ensure nothing like that can happen again - he may be an over-zealous idiot sometimes, but he knows what he’s doing. Even Matilda, as Head of the MLE, hasn’t the authority to overrule him. And though I’m not related to Teddy, everyone and their dog knows how close I am to Teddy’s godfather. He’s right, really. This way at least, the law is seen to be fair.”
“But couldn’t you get someone other than Padma, someone who could help straight away?” Harry leaned forwards, resting his hands on what little of his desk was not covered by Hermione’s paperwork. “Teddy’s in the cells with no idea that anyone’s trying to help him…”
But Hermione was shaking her head. “Padma’s the only one with an appropriate gap in her caseload. Besides, she’ll be invaluable once she’s here…” She sighed. “I’ve had a quick look at the case briefing. In all honesty, Harry, it doesn’t look very good. I’ll have to speak to Teddy, of course, to find out what really happened, but the evidence against him is pretty substantial. If I didn’t know there was no way he’d be so stupid, I’d…”
“What if he was so stupid?” The words had slipped out of Harry’s mouth before he was even aware of them, before he even realised that his mind had once again slipped back to Monday night, to scribbled papers and Teddy’s innocent face. “What if it’s true? What do we do then? I know you, Hermione, and I know you’d never commit yourself to something you thought was wrong. Can you defend him if he tells you it’s the truth? Can you stand up in court if you know it’s a lie?”
For a moment, both Hermione and Ron just stared, faces frozen and speechless, at their old friend. It was Hermione who was first to recover her wits.
“Harry, it has to be a mistake. We know Teddy, he wouldn’t…”
“He thought about it.” Harry sharply cut off the rest of Hermione’s sentence. “And I have notes in his handwriting in my desk at home that prove it. I could send my own godson to Azkaban if I hand them in.”
Although her lips were pinched and her face was pale, Hermione’s eyes were intense. “Harry,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I’ll do if it is the truth. But I need all the facts if I’m to find any way to get Teddy out of this mess. Tell me everything you know.”
Harry did. He told them about the extra Portal time Teddy had been granted, Victoire’s visit, about his hurried trip to the Department of Mysteries when he suspected that Teddy was trying to save his parents, Teddy’s denials, and the oath he’d had him swear.
“I thought that would be the end of it,” he concluded wearily, as Ron and Hermione exchanged a long, slow look. “I trusted him to keep that promise. I believed him when he said that they were no more than thoughts.”
Ron sighed. “Bugger,” he summarised succinctly. “Ginny told me you and Penny had been worried about him and about him seeing them die, but…” He repeated his sigh. “I always though Teddy was more level-headed than that, you know? Like Lupin always was.”
Harry’s memory darted back to Grimmauld Place in its grim old days, to a furious and half-deranged-looking Lupin insisting he’d cursed his wife and child simply by daring to be in love.
“I don’t know,” he remarked dryly. “Lupin had his moments too. Remember when he came to Grimmauld Place after Bill and Fleur’s wedding?”
“And when he was going to kill Wormtail in the Shrieking Shack,” Hermione added absently. “Oh dear.” She echoed her husband’s sigh. “But I just can’t see Teddy trying to change history. I’ve talked with him about how time travel works so many times. He knew full well that if any changes someone tried to make had worked, we’d know about it already. It’s his job to know. Moon said in the arrest statement that he’d claimed he knew better than to make changes, and I really think he would. If he did try to do something whilst he was in the Portal, I don’t think he was trying to alter the past “ or at least not in any way that would affect the here and now.”
Ron shrugged wearily. “But we’re not going to know, are we? Not until they let you and Padma in to talk to him.”
“And me,” Harry chimed in with determination. “I want that ban overturned, Hermione.”
Hermione nodded. “I’ve lodged a protest already, but I won’t hear the result until tomorrow. In the meantime, Harry, you said you had Teddy’s notes?”
“They’re in my desk at Grimmauld Place.” Harry reaffirmed. “I wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. Teddy told me to do what I liked with them.” He frowned morosely. “I wish I’d burned them now…”
Hermione gave him the kind of look that always sent Harry back to his Hogwarts days, remembering times when Ron had been lax in some aspect or another of his Prefect duties and Hermione had been suitably appalled. He forestalled the lecture with a wave of his hand.
“Yes, I know, as the Head of the Auror Department I shouldn’t be discussing the destruction of evidence with you any more than you should be listening. It was a random thought, Hermione.”
“Hmph.” Hermione did not look convinced but she moved on all the same. “Well, I need a look at those notes. I think we’d better…”
A knock interrupted her words. Kyra peeked around the door.
“Sorry to interrupt, Harry, but someone from the Floo Office just brought this up,” she said, handing the little envelope to Ron, who was nearest, to pass over the desk. “Apparently Ginny sent it to them hours ago, knowing you’d come back via the restricted fire. It was supposed to be waiting for you when you got back, but they forgot to pass it on until now. I’ve told them they’re idiots though, so you don’t need to bother. Oh, and Zenobia’s not coming back today. Hector said she caught a curse from a dodgy Potions dealer who was trying to evade arrest, and went straight to St Mungo’s to get the tentacles removed. I’ve left a note in her cubicle to say you want to see her though.”
Harry nodded gratefully as he spilt the seal on the note, fighting irritation at the news that yet another of the few people who could tell him what was going on was suddenly out of his reach. “Thanks Kyra.”
She nodded in reply and vanished, pulling the door closed behind her.
Harry opened the little note, expecting a simple missive telling him about Teddy’s arrest and her message to Andromeda. But instead he found two short sentences:
Come home as soon as you can. Something important has happened.
He turned the note over, half expecting some kind of explanation, but the other side was blank. He frowned.
“Harry?” Hermione and Ron spoke in unison.
He looked up, meeting the gazes of his two closest friends. “I have to go home,” he told them, briefly showing them his wife’s terse missive. “Hermione, bring your notes. You and Ron are coming with me.”
It didn’t take long to reach the Atrium, and once Hermione had sealed her notes securely in the rather battered but deceptively spacious beaded bag she always used for her paperwork, they all stepped into the Floo and were on their way.
The lights were on in the basement kitchen, although the room was empty. As Hermione and then Ron emerged from the fire behind him, Harry started towards the steps that led into the rest of his house.
“Ginny?” he called, trying not to let himself get worried or concerned about the vague nature of the message, or about how long it had been since it was sent. If it was something serious, if something was badly wrong, Ginny would have found a better way to share the news than a misplaced note by owl. It couldn’t be the kids, for Ron had said she’d taken them to The Burrow before the message could have been sent. Perhaps Andromeda had arrived with some manner of news? Perhaps…
He had reached the hall, the charmed muffling bricks that covered Mrs Black’s portrait narrowing the entry briefly as he stepped past. The cloak rack lurked almost menacingly in the shadows of the corner; Ginny’s scarlet flying cloak hung next to a thick, black travelling cloak that Harry didn’t… wait.
Something sparked in his memory, brief and elusive, darting away before he could grasp it. Black travelling cloaks were common enough in the wizarding world; why would the image of one here in his hallway seem so ridiculously familiar? And since it certainly wasn’t his, his wife’s, or one of his children’s, who exactly did it belong to?
He could hear Ron and Hermione moving up the steps behind him as he made his way to the base of the staircase, the gaps that had once held severed elf heads now covered in his wife’s Quidditch trophies.
“Ginny? ” he called again, more urgently. “Ginny, where are…?”
And then there she was, standing at the top of the stairs, her red hair a contrast to her unusually pale face. Her expression was one of trepidation, but there was a strange kind of joy mingled with it in her eyes that Harry couldn’t quite understand.
“Harry,” she said quietly. “Don’t freak out.”
Rarely had Harry heard a less promising start to a conversation. He opened his mouth to query it, but Ginny had already continued.
“You’ve heard what’s happened to Teddy, haven’t you?” She accepted his nod but yet again forestalled his attempt to speak. “Well, he came by to see you just after I got back from taking the kids to The Burrow.” A smile, disbelieving but sincerely happy, trickled slowly across her face. “I almost hexed him. I thought it was a trick, it had to be, but he answered every security question I could think to ask and believe me, Harry, I asked hundreds. I even threw in a couple of trick ones and he caught every one. This is real, Harry. It’s really him.”
Harry could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he stared up at his smiling wife with confusion, bewilderment, and a fairly intense but inexplicable dread. What was she talking about, what had happened, who…?
That question was the one he finally managed to ask out loud.
“Ginny,” he said, his voice incredulous. “Who the hell is this he? What’s going…?”
But his voice trailed away of its own accord as Ginny stepped aside from her place at the top of the stairs, moved away to allow another figure to step forward, nervous, uncertain, into the light. He heard Hermione gasp, heard Ron mutter an astounded bloody hell, but he could do nothing but stare, stare in bewilderment, in disbelief at the man who simply could not be standing before him. Shabby robes enfolded a thin figure, his light brown hair threaded with glinting strands of silver that crowned a face inconceivably, impossibly unchanged from the last time he had seen it, twenty years before.
Gently, Remus Lupin smiled, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he stared down at his former students with a gaze so familiar, it was almost frightening.
“Hello Harry,” he said. “I think we need to talk.”