Warning: Contains small mentions of suicide. If you are not comfortable reading the content, please skip the Flashback section. Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Deserving

There comes a time, where you feel like you don't belong on this earth anymore. Why would you? Everything you ever loved is gone—what else is there to live for? You feel like you're drowning, but you won't cry for help. You won't make the effort to swim back up. There is no point. There is no brighter light—no better day. So you drown. And drown. And drown.

Until you are no more.


Then.

A few days later, I am sitting in the courtroom at the Ministry of Magic, awaiting the start of Theodore Nott's trial. A part of me still wants to hurt him—to watch the light leave his eyes as I watched it leave Astoria's- but I don't have the energy for it anymore. I buried my wife yesterday, and she took the last bit of my humanity—and happiness- with her. I feel like a needle in a haystack. The elephant in the room. I can hear everyone whispering around me. Several people walk up to me and ask me am I okay. I ask them all the same question.

Would you be okay? No answer.

The Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebot, steps up to the podium, announcing that the trail is now in session. The doors to the far side of the courtroom open, and two Azkaban guards escort a grinning Theodore Nott to the center of the room. He is wearing the black and white jumpsuit of Azkaban and his hands and feet are chained together. But even as he appears, claiming the title as a "lesser man"—I feel like the one who has reached an all time low.

In all honesty, Nott won. He took everything away from me. And he's not even dead. My wife is dead and he gets to stand—stand alive—in front of the Wizengamot to await trial. He will rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life, but he'll be living. While Astoria's body rots in a coffin six feet underground. How can you tell me he hasn't won? You couldn't.

The trial begins.

"Theodore Christopher Nott," the Minister begins, "You are standing before the Wizengamot today for the murder of Astoria Malfoy, as well as the murder of Hannah Claybourne and Travis Benjamin. Do you deny any of these charges?"

Theodore grins even wider. "No, your honor."

There are whispers around the courtroom. I recognize the name Claybourne—it was the surname of the old man who spoke to me the night of the murder. I look for him in the crowd, but he isn't there. I should have done the same. This doesn't feel like justice—this feels like torture. It feels like judgement. And the arrow is aimed directly at me.

I sit through the rest of the trial, torturing myself in the process. As I heard the prosecutor, Padma Patil, shred Nott with questions and evidence, a revelation came over me. I shouldn't be here—I don't deserve to be here. As I listen to Nott speak, the reasoning is clear. I rattled the cages. I put Astoria at risk. For what? To prove that I was better than him? Even as he had me chained in his warehouse, I wanted to prove my superiority over him. Cause that's who I am—or who I was. Right now, Nott has shown me who is the superior. It is the ones who aren't afraid of the risk—who aren't scared of the consequences. The ones who know how to aim the knife. That know how to gut your soul and pull out the parts that matter. And leave you incomplete knowing you could never put those pieces back together again.

That was Nott, who made it very clear that I was no different from the others in this courtroom. That just like everyone else, I could be broken.

I didn't deserve to be here. I didn't have the right to sit in front of these people and flaunt my sorrow. I could see the pain and anger in their eyes—the thoughts of murdered loved ones running through their minds. Their wives and brothers—fathers and daughters—even sons…sisters…who didn't have the choice to stay out of it—people who Nott barely remembered. And I had the audacity to sit in front of them, mourning for my wife—when I was given the choice to walk away. But I was arrogant…

So that night, I went to the tallest tower in London. I take my steps slowly, preparing myself for what was to come next. I didn't deserve to be here—to be alive when so many others had fallen under Nott. I had no right to be breathing when my wife was dead—because of my arrogance. So tonight, I would give justice to those who have suffered. I will show them that I am no different.

I reach the ledge, and it feels exhilarating. Is this what it feels like to kill yourself? You're one step away, and all you can think about is how exciting it is. You don't think about the people you would affect—you don't think about how life would be without you. You just know one thing—you can't be here any longer. You know that this decision means no more pain—no more suffering. And that's something to be excited about.

And I hope that wherever I land, I land next to her. I hope she forgives me. Because then, this would have been all for nothing.

Without any second thought—I jump. I let everything go as the wind whooshes through my clothes. I close my eyes, awaiting the moment where I am no more. One more second, and everything goes black.

I have done it.


Now.

We are all shocked by the news—me and Seamus especially. Throughout these four years, we've made sure that no one, not even the greatest sorcerers in the world, could figure out the Vigilante's identity. There was no way—no possible way in hell—that Harry Potter figured out who I was. Not by himself, somebody must have told him—but who? Nobody knew who I was except Seamus.

"Who is it?" Hermione asks. I turn to look at her, wondering what she would think of me after the truth comes out. If she would forgive me for the things I did, and the things I will do to keep my identity a secret. I notice Seamus pulling out his wand, and I do the same. I've gone four years without anyone knowing the truth, it won't end now. Not with everything that's happening, and what's waiting. I wait for Harry to say the words. To say my name. But it never comes. Instead…

"Come see for yourself," Potter says, and it feels like the world has been turned upside down. Come see for yourself? What was Potter talking about? The Vigilante was right here. He was standing right in front of him. But I don't debate—me, Seamus, and Hermione follow Harry to the interrogation room, where this so called "vigilante" is waiting.

We take the elevator to the bottom floor, where the courtrooms and interrogation rooms are. I get a chilly feeling as we step out—I haven't been down here since Nott's trial. Reason being, I usually try to stay away from here if I can. Seamus always takes the cases—I just provide the evidence.

We make a right down the corridor, now facing a hallway with several doors. We follow Harry to Interrogation room W5, where two guards are waiting for us.

"Has he said anything else?" Harry asks, and I grow anxious to know who exactly he is talking about.

The guard shakes his head. "Nothing but 'I'm the Vigilante' over and over again."

We walk in, and I immediately recognize the "Vigilante" and I know Seamus does too. It's one of the guards from Gringotts last night, looking as lifeless as he did when he was under my imperious curse. He sits in the metal interrogation chair, his hands dangling by his side. His current condition didn't make sense. He was fine last night after I removed the curse—so what happened to him? I walk in slowly, trying to find any sign of abuse or deception. But he looks the same as yesterday. Something didn't feel right.

He looks up at me, and something that looked like realization spark in his eyes. Maybe because I'm an Auror and he's seen me as Draco Malfoy plenty of times, but that isn't what it feels like. It feels like he truly knows me—and that he knows I'm the true Vigilante.

"I'm the Vigilante." He says.

"No," I say, walking further into the room. I take my place in the second metal chair across from his. "You are a security guard at Gringotts Bank."

His eyes grow wider. "Gringotts….I was at Gringotts last night…I'm the Vigilante."

I look at Seamus, but just like me, he doesn't have a clue of what is going on. Did he recognize me? Does he know I'm the Vigilante? If so, I have to play this smart—one wrong word and he might expose me to everyone in the room. But something seems to be wrong with him—and I have to find that out as well. Salazar help me.

"Yes, you were at Gringotts last night." I say slowly, trying to find a sign that he may have been cursed-again. "But you were on guard duty. The Aurors found you tied up on the bottom floor."

"I'm the Vigilante." He repeats.

"Okay," Seamus says, "Let's take a new approach. Why do you think you're the Vigilante?"

"I am the Vigilante." The guard says again. His eyes grows wider, I can tell he truly believes this. "I took it." He looks to me again. "I took the key."

Harry then takes a bigger interest. "Key? What key?"

"The key," The guard responds. "I'm the Vigilante."

"But I thought," Hermione says, taking interest as well. "I thought the Vigilante didn't take anything. He claimed to be looking for the Wand of Nott—which wasn't there."

I look at Seamus and he gives me the same look. We're both thinking the same thing. I only took one thing out of that vault last night. An old blank piece of parchment. I look at Harry, and his facial expression has immediately changed. I didn't find out why until we returned to his office.

"He took it," Harry growled. "He took the Wand of Nott and had the guards tell me otherwise."

It wasn't a stretch, but I knew it wasn't true. The Wand of Nott truly wasn't there—but nonetheless, the Vigilante did take something. But I can't be the one to defend him. And that means losing Harry's confidence in the Vigilante.

Hermione speaks next. "Why would the Vigilante want to steal the Wand of Nott?"

"Why does the Vigilante do anything, Hermione?" Harry spits back. "He has to be working with Nott. That's why he lied."

"Are you sure it's the wand?" Seamus asks. "The guard said that the Vigilante took the 'key'—that could be a number of things."

But Harry isn't listening.


That night Seamus and I stand around the wooden table in the middle of my Vigilante dungeon liar, examining the blank parchment I stole from Nott's vault. It is still blank, but I know deep down that there is something more to this parchment than its appearance.

"So, according to the babbling guard back at the Ministry, this is the key?" asks Seamus.

I nod. "So it seems. But the key to what?"

"Maybe it's a ruse. Maybe whoever messed with that bloke's brain wants us to focus on this parchment—to throw us off our game."

"But if it isn't," I say, but I don't ignore the fact that Seamus may be right. "We risk an even bigger threat."

Seamus sighs. "And let's not forget that you've gotten on Potter's bad side. If he's anything like the Harry Potter from school, he won't stop until he gets to the bottom of this."

I don't say anything, but I agree. Even if this isn't Nott, there's someone out there toying with me. Someone's out there planning something big—something bigger than stealing wand blueprints and creating hybrid creatures. Harry has been through some dangerous things in his life—but he never went at it alone. With this feeling squeezing my insides, I can't let him do this alone either—this is bigger than both of us.

"I'm going to visit Potter." I say, as I change into Vigilante attire.

"Okay, that's cheery," Seamus says, "But any reason why you're putting on your Vigilante gear?"

"I'm not going to visit him as Draco Malfoy." I pull on my gloves, conjure my hair, and put on my mask.

Seamus the lost his temper. "Oh no, oh hell no. Did you not witness what I did at the Ministry today? Harry wants your head—he thinks you stole the Wand of Nott. Going to him now may be exactly what he wants."

"I know." I respond. "But if he keeps thinking that, he's going to put himself in danger."

"Something that he has plenty of experience in. He'll be fine for just this once."

I ignore his comment. "If Theodore Nott is behind this, and Harry gets involved, you and I both know what Nott will do to him, Seamus. Potter has a family."

Seamus doesn't say anything else—he knows I'm right. He also knows the true reason why I'm concerned for Harry's family. Because Theodore Nott took my family away from me. And after everything thing I've been through—I wouldn't wish that upon him. I wouldn't wish that upon anyone. So I won't—even if that means putting myself in harm's way. If he ends up hating the Vigilante, that's fine—but I can't allow myself to make the same mistake twice.


I appear at 12 Grimmauld Place—the current home of the Potters. As the blue and red flames disappear, I close my eyes, imagining my next destination. The Foyer of the home—it's dark and dusty and there is a door that leads to the kitchen. Another moment and I'm inside—but I am quickly pinned to the wall by Harry Potter himself. His wand is at my throat and his eyes are filled with anger and uncertainty. He was waiting for me.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Potter." I say slowly. "I only want to talk."

Harry doesn't budge. "I know you took it. And don't even try to lie to me. So let's just cut the bullshit. Why did you take it?"

I'm not comfortable with my current position—and I'm kind of hacked off that Harry Potter has me pinned against the wall like this. Despite my personal feelings, I can't talk to him like this. I have to level the playing ground. So I leave 12 Grimmauld Place, and I take Harry with me.

We appear in a deserted field, not far from Luna Lovegood's old place. There's no one out here, just me, the Vigilante, and Harry Potter, in his pajamas. He's still holding his wand, prepared for a battle that won't come. Or maybe he's testing me—to see if I did steal the Wand of Nott. To test whether I would be stupid enough to pull it out in front of him. He will have to be disappointed tonight.

After a few minutes, he breaks his stance—he isn't used to my traveling methods. He sinks to his knees, trying to catch his breath. It is then he finally sets down his wand and speaks for the first time since we've arrived. "Where the fuck did you just take me?"

"Not far." I respond. "But I need to talk to you."

"I don't want to hear anything from you!" He says, still trying to catch his breath. "Except you admitting that you took the Wand of Nott from Gringotts Bank that night. And that you cursed that guard to have him take the blame."

I keep my face un-phased. "I can't tell you that, Potter—because it isn't true. The Wand of Nott was not in the vault, and it hasn't been in a long time." I snap my fingers and a green folder appears out of thin air. It levitates towards Potter.

Like I expected, he refuses to accept it at first. "What is that?"

"Harlem Nott's Gringotts record. Every withdrawal, deposit, and trade."

"Where did you get this?" Harry snatches the envelope, scanning the contents. "How did you get this?"

I watch him explore the folder. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you will find that Harlem Nott, Theodore Nott's father, took the wand out of the vault over a year ago. Nobody knows where he or the wand is now."

"Why should I trust you? How do I know that this isn't a ruse?"

I prepare to leave, imagining two different destinations this time. "You don't have to trust me. Just trust what I'm doing. This is bigger than the both of us."

The field is now covered in blue and red flames, and we both disappear. I arrive in the Malfoy dungeon, while Harry arrives back in the foyer of his home. Seamus is gone when I get back, but the blank piece of parchment- the key—is waiting for me there. Whatever Nott had planned, I was going to figure it out. He wouldn't hurt anybody else—I would make sure of it.

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~TheeStoryTeller