Malfoys, and Harry
A/N: Warning: Violence and Child Abuse. Thanks to all followers and favourite-list-adders, and to Gemcatcher who has been with this story from the start, Happy Terrier, Gouyimi, avid reader (guest), Cassandra30, morring star, Arnie100 who have all reviewed.
The animagus form of their friend, Remus decided in retrospect, should have been a dead giveaway. As it was, he felt really no guilt when he cast spells onto the rat, undoubtedly Wormtail, whom he had stolen from the Weasleys. It was only a simple compulsion to attack Mad-Eye as was planned. Just to err on the side of caution though, he decided to write a menacing enough note for the paranoid Auror.
Alastor,
You're already dead. You just don't know it. All you ever had to do was put enough rat-traps.
Sincerely,
The Man on the Moon.
Salvaging the letters off the Prophet was inspired.
The whole drama did work out flawlessly. A bit too flawlessly, in fact. It was only after he was done did he realise that he was absent from his home. For three hours. A home where two time-travelling people, one of whom felt especially murderous, while the other was being especially maternal. And both knew how to get to their destination. Particularly through public floo networks.
Wonderful.
He apparated home post-haste, fearing that he would find it empty. His fears, it seemed, were unfounded. Hermione was still sleeping. So was Ron. At least that was how he appeared. Remus breathed out a sigh of relief.
And then a phoenix Patronus flew in through the home, speaking with the voice of Albus Dumbledore, inviting him to Hogwarts.
It was, in Remus' opinion, a very funny thing. He was meeting Dumbledore knowing what the man wanted to say before Dumbledore did. It seldom – alright, never – happened. Or so he thought.
"Come in Remus," the man said gravely.
"You called, Headmaster?"
"I did. Care for a sherbet lemon? I find the sweet and sour taste a glorious contradiction when I have a lot to think."
"No. Thank you, sir."
"Tea, perhaps?"
Remus knew exactly what Dumbledore was up to. Not Veritaserum, no. But he would slip him a babbling potion. That was how he had gotten them to confess to their larger pranks.
"I have just been to the Leaky Cauldron, sir. I doubt that this was a social call."
Dumbledore nodded and sighed. "Something has happened today, Remus that has me questioning so many 'facts' as we knew them since that Halloween night."
"May I ask what has happened?"
"Indeed. I am quite sure you know that Sirius..."
"What of the traitor?" Remus asked harshly.
"That is the 'fact' I am required to reconsider, Remus," Dumbledore gently.
"What?"
"I am sure that it must come as a shock," Dumbledore temporised, gazing at Remus over his half-moon glasses. "Two events occurred today in the space of three hours."
"Two?" was Remus' immediate response, but he curbed it to instead ask, "What happened?"
"The Malfoy Manor was cinders, with its occupants still inside. There was a message to the world, and for me."
"For you?"
"Yes. You see, Malfoy Manor was burnt down, after all the doors and windows were sealed. The wand used was Narcissa Malfoy's."
"That's how the Death Eaters did it."
"That observation is quite on the mark, Remus, and especially important, given the messages."
He retrieved his pensieve and a memory from his head. "Please see for yourself."
And Remus did. High up in the sky was something he had not seen for years. The Dark Mark. And beside it were words that struck anger and terror in Remus' heart. "The Dark Lord shall return, and loyalty will be rewarded. Mine above all, for now I know where the Boy-Who-Lived lives."
"Dumbledore!" shouted Remus. "What do we do now?"
"I must ask first, Remus. Did you find out where Harry lives? Have you attempted to rescue him in any manner?"
"You ordered me not to!" Remus snarled. "You have kept me away and you are asking me whether I have endangered him?"
"It was not my intention."
"I don't care. Wherever Harry is, he is in danger. Please just...just do something. Anything!" he beseeched.
That apparently did help make Dumbledore's mind.
"I believe I have somewhat good news on that account."
"You do?"
"I do. It was why I was talking about Sirius – not Sirius Black the supposed traitor, but Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. Another old friend of yours, Remus, thought to be dead, re-emerged. Quite spectacularly, I might add."
"Who?"
"The person we all long believed to be the victim of Sirius' wrath – Peter Pettigrew."
"He is dead, Dumbledore."
"Well, the person in Alastor's captivity certainly is Pettigrew, certainly isn't dead, and certainly is a Death Eater, as evidenced by the Dark Mark on his left forearm."
Remus acted fabulously well to display the flabbergasted man who didn't know which way was up.
"How?" It was all he gasped.
"Alas! It seems we were all hoodwinked. I am about to start every proceeding to help free Sirius. Now, more than ever, Harry needs his godfather."
The sheer number of invectives and abuses Remus mentally hurled Dumbledore's way would have made a sailor blush. The man was unbearable. In that moment, Remus had seen past the smokescreens of the man who pretended to care. Or was insane. After all, no person who negated the two previous thoughts would behave in Sirius' and Harry's case – the order being interchangeable at any moment – as reprehensibly as Dumbledore had done.
Was it time? Perhaps it was. A retrospective look at Dumbledore's actions, often taken by the persona that every person seemed to be in awe of, almost always tended to paint him as a villain. That was something they knew he wasn't, so Remus had to be careful.
Then again they knew that Harry was safe and Sirius was the traitor.
"Well, please have it done fast."
"That was my intention. In the meanwhile, Remus, I need you to search for a suitable muggle home for Lily's sister."
"He was with her?" Remus asked, goggling at the man. "Are you insane? They hated each other! Petunia sent Lily a letter wishing "she never bred and produced more freaks like her!" You left him with her?"
"Really, Remus; that must have been petty animosity." Senility, obviously.
"If she has hurt him, I am going to break your nose."
Dumbledore had the audacity to chuckle.
"We shall meet them soon. Sirius will be freed in the next couple of days."
"I will get you an appointment in St. Mungo's just in case."
"You know how to cast a Dark Mark?"
"Yes," Ron admitted lazily as he bounced a rubber ball against the wall rhythmically. "We learnt that from an escaped Death Eater. We sent Mad-Eye another letter to ensure he is caught and scandal is avoided."
"You drew his attention?"
"No. A dead Ministry worker did."
"So you are not a Death Eater?"
"Are you fucking serious? No, you fuckwit."
"Yet you feel nothing about the fact that you murdered a child?"
"What are you talking about?" snapped Hermione. "We never murdered the little shit, as much as we wanted to – just his parents."
"You helped him?"
"Ron is my husband, and they were my kids," she reminded acidly.
"What did you do?"
"Young Draco Malfoy might have found himself on a boat to the Netherlands with absolutely no memory of his parents, his language or magic," she replied quite simply.
"Isn't that cruel?" Remus desperately argued.
"Not as much as murdering children," Ron pointed out. "He will be well-cared for. It's funny no? There will be a muggleborn Malfoy in Europe."
The werewolf was unable to get his head around the whole thing. He was just frantic. "Why did you do it?"
"I knew I had to," Ron replied with affected nonchalance. "There's nothing to tie me to it."
"You acted as if you were asleep!" Remus was attempting to evoke some emotion from the automaton-like man and woman.
"So? I doubt you'd have let us go," Hermione defended. "Look. It's done. There is one, or four less foul things in the world. Please. Let it be."
Remus had nothing to say really. So he changed the subject.
"They are releasing Sirius tomorrow. We might go to meet Harry."
Ron did not catch the ball as it returned. Hermione looked away from the book she held upside down and was pretending to read.
"I want to," Hermione said at last.
"But he might recognise us. Later on, I mean."
"Plus Dumbledore will be there," Remus pointed out.
"Maybe we can go now? Just give him some hope?"
"He will know. Dumbledore I mean."
"Let him. I have a few things to say to him."
"Let's go then."
And so they left, with Remus deciding to join in just to ensure they didn't get into too much trouble.
None of them was really prepared for the sight that met them. It was late evening, and the trespassers, who had managed to get to the back of the house (except for Remus, who was keeping watch), were having a horrid time as they watched through the kitchen window.
They watched in shock as a little Harry Potter (Merlin, when had he been so little?) was about to start cleaning up some dishes. Yes. A four-year-old kid was attempting to clean some dishes by hand, as a hateful, spiteful woman stood watch.
"He looks so small," Hermione remarked, having trouble going in there and lifting the little boy and making a run for it. "When was he last given anything to eat?"
The little boy attempted spiritedly to keep hold of the soapy dish. He looked with his large green eyes at the woman in a very timid manner. The dish was so large for his hands.
"Well, get on with it!" the woman snarled.
Little Harry dutifully returned to his job. Ron's supposedly non-existent heart broke for his best mate. This was how Harry had grown up. He knew he had had to help his mum with chores, but Petunia Dursley wanted the little boy to do the dishes. What wouldn't he give to just grab him, as his twelve year old self had done for the twelve year old version of this boy, and escape? His reverie was broken when the soapy crockery slipped from his hand and fell with a resounding crash.
"You utterly useless freak!" screamed Petunia shrilly. She advanced upon the boy and grabbed a dirty skillet out of the sink. "What did I tell you? You had to earn your keep, not make things worse! Why couldn't my bitch of a sister have died and taken you with her?"
Time froze for the two hiding adults as the skillet found Harry's back, before it dropped onto the floor. They watched the morbid scene, frozen, as Petunia proceeded to slap the now whimpering boy across his face and his back, before physically dragging him and throwing him into his cupboard.
Was it any wonder that Dark Lords so hated muggles? Ron turned to see Hermione attempting to break the door down. She never could see him hurt and at the moment, Petunia Dursley, and knowing what Vernon did to Harry, he as well, jumped to join Voldemort at spot number one on their common hate-list.
Ron wished he would have a blast of accidental magic, or wandless, or anything. Unfortunately, this wizard magic was warded off by the wards Dumbledore had set for Harry's protection. It turned out that they worked against physical aggression and ill-will against any resident of the house. It was a pity that they never took into account the idea that hurt could come from within.
At long last Hermione gave up and sat down before giving in to her tears and sobs. Ron tried to remain stoic, but couldn't hold it in anymore as he felt the full brunt of failure hitting him again.
Inside, Harry Potter cried in pain.
Outside, Remus Lupin hoped that nothing went wrong, and Dumbledore hadn't made so ghastly a mistake after all. For the dark creature warded away, that was all he could do.