Author's note: This chapter is dedicated to the Harry Potter Lexicon, for its incredible source for fact-checking which helped me enormously in writing this! Also, contrary to the previous chapter, I discovered that Auror training is only three years (at the time Harry was in school). Let's just imagine Harry's decided to extend the training time by the next-gen era. ;)
The Patronus faded. The bonds seemingly gluing Harry's feet to the ground did not.
"Hurry!" Tracey yelled, as the Portkey began to glow again.
It was only the thought of sending Lily away alone that made Harry step forward, kneel, and place his hand on the Portkey beside his unconscious daughter's. In the nick of time - as he closed his fingers around it, he felt the familiar jerk behind his navel, and the whirlwind confusion that followed seemed to mirror his thoughts as they were transported back to the school.
Harry landed on his feet in a corridor. He was used to the unnerving sensations of magical travel. So he gathered that that was not what was giving him the urge to be sick.
Hoping he had imagined the her face, or, even (please, Harry begged) that Neville's Patronus was a bad dream, he looked around. Tracey had also landed feet first. She was standing over the suspect, who lay facing away from him and was beginning to stir.
The feeling of paralysis had followed Harry in from the Forest. He forced himself to lean toward her, to check, but again, Lily saved him a decision. Her hair fell away from her face as she rolled onto her back and opened her eyes - Ginny's eyes.
Ginny.
How was he going to tell Ginny? As Head of the Auror Department, Harry sometimes to deliver bad news to the families of his colleagues. Your daughter was killed in action, your son will spend the rest of his life in St Mungo's… Kingsley had taught him how to have those conversations. But this -
"Dad?" Lily whispered.
Harry saw Tracey twitch.
I'm acting in a professional capacity, he thought. Guilty relief. He didn't need to respond to this as a father. Yet.
He turned to his junior Auror. "We're going to - to need to take her to Nev - to the Headmaster."
"How will we do that?" she asked.
"Handcuffs?" As he reached into his pocket for the magical handcuffs, his fingers brushed his daughter's doomed wand.
An oozing gash ran from Lily's left eye to her right cheekbone. Harry was seized by an urge to knit it magically, like he had her various home Quidditch injuries. Instead, he avoided Lily's eyes as he cuffed her like a dangerous criminal. For a Category Two suspect (they graded them like storms), it was the least he could do within protocol.
Tracey looked at the floor. Harry numbly appreciated that her position at this moment was at least as awkward as his own. He knew what she was thinking, because he'd felt that way a hundred times before: I will hug my children tonight, because however many chocolate frogs they've coaxed from the top shelf of the pantry, I am just so, so, so grateful that this is not my child.
"Where are we?" Tracey asked.
"I think we're in one of the empty classrooms," Harry said. "The Portkey always leads there, in case we have -" He couldn't bring himself to say, a dangerous suspect.
"So we take her to Professor Longbottom?" Tracey asked.
"Yes." Harry usually smiled at the younger Aurors' need to call his former classmates-turned-professors by their surnames. "We're on the third floor I think - we'll go around the staircase near the Charms classroom."
Harry chose this route because he remembered it being an unpopular one during his time at Hogwarts, mainly due to the tendency for Flitwick to leave his classroom door open, and therefore for students to cast charms on unlucky passersby. Now, however, Flitwick was gone, class was not in session, and the corridors were crowded with Hogwartians , who'd been ushered back from Hogsmeade in light of the incident.
"What's going-" he heard a student say before their friend shushed them and whispered something in their ear.
"Lily! Where were you - what are you-" That student was borne away by the crowd too.
Harry kept his head down and pushed forward, letting Tracey keep a hold on Lily. The crowd finally dispersed only as they approached the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to the Headmaster's office.
"Uh -" Harry's mind was blank.
"Filibuster," Tracey said.
The gargoyle sprung aside and the spiral staircase raised them smoothly and steadily upwards. Harry looked down at Lily. She was looking at a dent in the stone two steps above her. Harry felt cold, but when he caught sight of himself in a passing window, he saw that he was blushing, only faintly, as though he'd simply lost embarrassingly in a practice duel.
The stairs reached their terminus. They stepped off onto the platform outside the polished oak doors.
Feeling that he'd been rather useless so far, Harry stepped forward to strike the griffin knocker. There was no response. Then, from behind them -
"Harry?" Neville's voice echoed up the stone spiral. "Oh, good, I've just been down to see the victim. He's recovering well -" His head appeared around the bend "-But it looks as though he's been tortur-"
Neville saw Lily and froze, so completely that he stumbled when the stairs deposited him on the solid platform.
He looked straight at the door. Placing his hand on the lock, he muttered an incantation that apparently removed the need for a key. The door sprang open. He held it open for them; though this was unnecessary, all the while looking at the inside of his office as though he was expecting to see someone else there. There was nobody; Neville took a seat behind his desk, while Harry, Tracey and Lily stood two steps inside the door.
Neville levitated two chairs from a corner of the office. They dropped to the ground with a good few feet between them.
"Take a seat." Neville spoke to Harry and Tracey. Lily, evidently, was to stand before him.
Between Tracey and himself, with her hands cuffed physically and magically behind her back, Lily looked both larger and frailer than Harry had ever seen her.
"We can't do any questioning or analysis of the wand records until we have at least four independent Aurors here," Tracey said.
Delaying the inevitable, Harry thought.
"That's three more then," Harry said, gesturing at Tracey.
"Junior Aurors can be included among the analysts?" Neville asked.
"Not apprentices, but Juniors, yes," Harry said. He looked across at Tracey. Lily was shivering slackly, as if cold. Harry took his own wand from his pocket. Wands out were optional with a restrained and cooperative suspect, but he was concerned with arresting her fall if she passed out.
"And how are you, Miss Dunville?" Neville asked Tracey. "You were in my Herbology class."
Everyone was in your Herbology class, Harry thought, but he appreciated Neville's brave attempt to make conversation. He wondered if the rule about not questioning suspects unsupervised included things like are you okay?
"I'm, um, well," Tracey said to Neville, "And congratulations on becoming Headmaster, Professor - I'm not sure if I've seen you since then?"
Neville gave a chuckle that sounded more like the result of a punch to the stomach. "I'm not sure I'd remember if you had, Miss Dunville. Where are those Aurors, I wonder?"
Lily stumbled, though she hadn't been moving. Harry Summoned a chair, which slid under her rather faster than he had intended, hitting her knees from behind. There was a faint, sickening crack as Lily fell and sat on her cuffed hands. She clenched her jaw and didn't cry out.
"I - I think I saw you at the Ministry's Christmas Ball last year," Tracey said to Neville, her voice reaching a tenser pitch than it had in the Forest.
"Oh, I wasn't there," Harry said. "I was practically living at St Mungo's-" With Lily having dragon pox, he added silently.
"I don't believe I was either," said Neville. "I missed it because of a terrible cold - or perhaps that was the Winter Dinner?"
The sound of the griffin knocker broke their tortured conversation.
"Come in," Neville said, as the lock clicked and the door swung open.
Their backup consisted of Joseph Proudfoot and another Junior Auror, Felix Clark. The two Aurors stepped inside. Their robes were covered in assorted burrs and twigs from the Forbidden Forest, some of which had also lodged in Felix's springy hair.
They sent old Proudfoot and a Junior? Harry allowed himself a moment of hope. If they were certain it was the Cruciatus Curse, surely the Auror Office would have sent more battle-worthy backup.
"Sorry we're so late," Proudfoot said as he closed the door. "Just been down t'look at that student."
"Pomfrey said it looked like-"
Proudfoot nodded. "Unless we're lookin' at an unknown potion side effect, I'm nine'y-nine percent sure it's Cruciatus. Haven't seen a civilian bunged up tha' bad since the Wars."
Neville blanched. "Will he be - okay?"
Proudfoot jumped. "Oh, yes, of course, he's not - you know, it wasn't for long. He's pretty shaken up, but 'e'll be right. Pomfrey's got a Healer from St Mungo's in to look at 'im, but they reckon it's better keepin' him 'ere."
"That's great news," Neville said. "Do you want to question the suspect here?"
"Should do," Proudfoot said. "Better t'check the wand while the record's still fresh."
"I'll do the chairs, if you want," Tracey said, seeing that there were none left in the corner Neville had summoned theirs from. She waved her wand in a complicated gesture and conjured two chairs with, Harry wasn't surprised to see, some elaborate carving worked into the backs.
Ignoring, or perhaps not noticing, this blatant show-off, Neville gestured for Proudfoot and Felix to sit. Harry gulped, feeling as though he was reliving his moment of awful realisation, as they stepped forward and saw the suspect's face.
"Oh, Harry." Proudfoot turned to him. Harry forced his expression to remain neutral. Felix set himself down in the chair gently, as though worried he'd frighten it away with any sudden movements, but that was nothing more than usual. Felix was a Junior on the same year of training as Tracey Dunville. Harry often wondered if their incurable air of panic was some lingering effect of being born in the last, terrible year of the War.
Felix finally spoke. "Do we start, then?" He turned to Harry.
"I suppose so," Harry said. "I mean, cer-certainly."
"I'll do the honours, if you like." Proudfoot nodded to Harry, with a look at Lily.
"I'll transcribe." Tracey conjured a peacock quill and a sheet of parchment adorned with a border which matched the woodwork on the chairs.
"Please," Proudfoot said, "Plain parchment."
She sighed and waved her wand so the patterns disappeared.
Proudfoot turned to Lily. "Stand."
Lily winced again as her body shifted against her cuffed hands, then bent her knees and managed to arch herself upright.
"This is now an official trial and evidence given may be used against you." Proudfoot switched from gruffness to his formal questioning tone in a effortless transition that might, under other circumstances, have been almost comical. "Do you understand this?"
Lily looked at a point above Neville's head. "Yes."
"State your name."
Tracey poised her pen.
"Lily Luna Potter."
"Age?"
"Fifteen."
"Are you a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"
"Yes."
"Who's got the wand?" Proudfoot asked.
Harry withdrew his daughter's wand from his pocket and handed it over.
"Is this your wand?" he asked Lily.
"Yes."
"Describe it."
"Eucalyptus and Op-opaleye scales, eight inches." Lily clenched her fists.
Proudfoot held his own wand tip to tip with Lily's. "Priori incantato!"
A faint white glow formed around the tip of her wand.
"So, the last spell cast on this wand was lumos," Proudfoot said, as Tracey noted it down. "And before that... priori incantato!"
Harry felt his heart begin to beat faster, but it was another light spell, obviously cast as Lily had been running through the Forest.
"Priori incantato!" Proudfoot repeated, calling up the spell before that.
A translucent image appeared in the air: a deep cut sewing itself together. That explained the half-healed gash on Lily's face. She'd tried to fix herself before she ran. Why did you run? Harry wanted to ask. Why don't you say something in your defence?
Proudfoot brought the wands together again. "Priori incantato!"
The next spell was another incomplete attempt at healing.
"Priori incantato!"
A scream of agony. It was faint, but Harry wanted to block his ears. Neville was clutching the edge of his desk, skin stretched tight over white knuckles. Fierce red light sparked around the tip of Lily's wand. Lily collapsed back into her chair, and this time she did cry out as she fell onto her cuffed hands.
Please, Harry thought, I don't care how many Muggles we have to Obliviate, let there by a major incident right now, any excuse for me to get out of here.
"I ask that," Proudfoot said, "In accordance with protocol, the suspect stand before the questioner if she is capable."
"I move that Li- that the suspect be declared incapable," Harry said.
"Motion upheld."
Proudfoot repeated priori incantato. Lily's wand gave a brief silver light that looked like Stupefy, then the white cloud that told them that spell had been blocked.
"You were duelling?" Proudfoot asked Lily.
She nodded, nibbling on a ragged section of her lower lip.
"Please reply audibly."
"Yes," Lily said, "We were duelling."
"You and whom?"
"Cecil Jordan."
The previous spell was another stupefy, also blocked. Then a shower of sparks - relashio, Harry guessed. A blocked attempt at expelliarmus, Body Binder,various Babbling Curses… The spells became less severe as the record played out backward. It was a long duel; by the fifteenth or sixteenth jinx back, the images became fainter and still the spells continued.
"That was the beginning of the duel," Lily said, when a Stinging Hex showed up.
"Right." Proudfoot clearly wasn't about to believe her. It seemed she was telling the truth, however; his next ten priori incantatos revealed a string of attempts at Colour Change Charms, with varying levels of success.
"Charms class?" Proudfoot asked.
"Yes," Lily said.
"I'd like to revisit something on this record, before it fades." Proudfoot muttered a few incantations on his own wand, and the next time he cried, "priori incantato", they were back to that terrible scream. Lily's eyes filled with tears. Harry was relieved to see this sign of - emotion? Remorse? - from her, but somewhat frightened that it would set him off crying in front of the other Aurors. Bad father, he thought.
"Finite incantatem!" Proudfoot yelled. The scream faded.
"Do you know what that spell was?" Proudfoot asked.
Lily nodded, dislodging tears so that they ran down her cheeks. "Crucio."
"You've stated that this is your wand. Did you cast this spell?" Proudfoot asked.
"Yes."
"On whom?"
"Cecil Jordan."
"Well, that seems about done then." Proudfoot switched back to gruffness. "Is there anything you would like to say, on the record?"
"No." Lily was now trembling so hard that her feet drummed out an involuntary rhythm on the floor.
"Very well. I declare the immediate questioning and wand examination closed."
Tracey put down her quill and rolled the parchment into her pocket.
"How're we going to get th'suspect to the Ministry, then?" Proudfoot looked to Harry.
It was procedure, but Harry suddenly hated it - how they talked about Lily like she was some animal they needed to transport to the abattoir. Before Harry could say anything impulsive, Neville interrupted -
"May I speak to the suspect briefly?"
"Cert'nly, Headmaster." Proudfoot stepped aside so Neville could see Lily.
"Have you ever had the Cruciatus Curse used on you?" he asked her.
Lily shook her head, dislodging more tears, as though frightened he was about to curse her.
"Do you understand what the Cruciatus Curse is?" he asked.
"'scuse me." Proudfoot stood again. "If y're questionin' her, that's the Ministry's job."
"Sorry," Neville said. "I'm not trying to elicit information from Lily." He turned back to Lily. "I know some students have gotten it into their heads that the Cruciatus curse is just like Sectumsempra or something."
Lily shook her head, staring at a point over Neville's left shoulder. Harry tried to recall whether he had ever told his children what had happened to Neville's parents.
"Let me just say that, having seen both used, I can assure you that there is a reason that the Cruciatus is the Unforgivable."
Lily flinched.
"You don't even learn about Unforgivables until sixth year, but like everything, people find out earlier than they're supposed to, don't they? I do wonder how you learnt the incantation, Lily-"
He stopped when Proudfoot looked ready to cut him off.
"But that's for the Ministry to work out," Neville continued quickly. "Unlike Jelly-Legs or Stupefy or even Sectumsempra, the Cruciatus Curse does damage that no Healer can cure."
"I know," Lily said.
Neville shook his head. "I don't think that you do."
Don't tell her, Neville, Harry thought. If you mention your parents now, I will not be able to- What? he wondered. Get out of the room without crying? Ever speak to Lily again? Figure out how on Earth to tell Ginny? He already doubted his ability to do any of those three things.
Lily's face scrunched as she asked, "Will Cecil be okay?"
"That's what I'd like to find out from you. How long - how long do you think that you kept him under the Curse?" Neville asked.
"Only - only a few seconds."
"A few?"
"Maybe - I don't know - five?"
Harry thought back to his own experiences of the Cruciatus Curse. How long had Voldemort tortured him that day after Cedric's death? Time had lost all meaning. Unbidden, he had an image of what it must have looked like - Lily, his Lily, standing over a person as Voldemort had once done, while Cecil writhed on the ground.
Harry was going to be sick.
"I've got to - call Ginny," he said, standing.
Neville flicked his wand to unlock the door. "You can probably use Professor Bell's fireplace. Now, Lily, you've admitted to using an Unforgivable Curse. Therefore, unless a Ministry trial subsequently finds your confession to be false, you have forfeited your place at Hogwarts School -"
Neville's voice faded as Harry bolted out of the office to the stone staircase, leaving Lily to face expulsion alone.
I am the worst father ever, he thought.
Author's note (2): I've had an observant reviewer who pointed out that Harry wasn't sent to Azkaban for casting Crucio on Bellatrix in Order of the Phoenix. However, I think that a) the Ministry probably didn't know and b) Harry casting it on a Death Eater during a duel is different to Lily casting it on someone at school. Also, while a more experienced wizard might have been able to block the spell, Cecil is only in fifth year like Lily. Thanks for reviewing! :)
