Dispelling the Lies

by Indygodusk

Chapter 10: Catharsis and Confrontation in the Park

Everyone's eyes seemed to follow Harry as he left his room and walked down the hall to the nurse's station, some filled with prurient interest, some with hostility, and some with fear. Not many looked friendly, even amongst the aurors and nurses he knew professionally. Harry had made some serious mistakes lately, he could admit that now, but they had been mistakes innocent of bad intentions. The slander and cruelty in that newspaper article had been completely deliberate. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair.

Harry tried not to care.

He didn't do a very good job. His chest ached. He did not want to go through this again. Although it had been years since he'd felt so exposed, he still remembered how to stiffen his spine, flatten his expression, and hide his flinches. He hated it. It wasn't fair. The fickle wizarding public always did this to him, believed the slander and ignored the proof of his words and actions. Even people who should know better chose to believe the worst of him instead, as if that was easier. Soon friends and acquaintances would start avoiding him too. He remembered how this went. He should be used to it, but it surprised and hurt him every time.

Keeping his chin up, Harry walked with a steady pace, neither too rushed nor too hesitant, over to the desk to check himself out of St. Mungo's. Just as he finished signing the paperwork and turned to leave, Sirius and Neville appeared out of the lift and waved to him to come over.

Harry closely examined Neville for signs of injury as he got closer, but his friend seemed to be moving freely except for the arm sling. Glancing over at Sirius, Harry did a double take. His dad also wore an arm sling. Plus Sirius's nose was longer, drooping like a house elf's, and mottled gray. He'd have to ask about that, but first….

Heart pounding, stomach curdling, Harry stepped up in front of Neville, lowering his eyes and curling forward his shoulders. "Neville, I am so sorry." Harry's mind stuttered on a frozen picture of the dark night lit up by flashes of spellfire, Neville's upraised arm flayed, his mouth open wide as he screamed in agony and shock. Harry's fault. Harry's failure. "So so sorry. You know I'd never—not on purpose…." Harry pulled in a thick breath and fought the stinging guilt threatening to flood his eyes. "Sorry. How's your arm?"

"I'll be okay," Neville answered. The lift doors opened and Neville gestured Harry inside. Sirius clapped Harry on the back and followed silently. The lift doors closed. Before Harry could apologize again, the Auror amulet around Neville's neck chimed and changed color to show an urgent message and work summons. The damning silence above Harry's sternum where his own Auror amulet should be felt like a gaping wound. He wondered if he'd ever get his job back, if he even deserved to.

"You should get that," Harry said nobly, unable to keep from adding a second later, "Are you sure your arm's really okay? I'm sorry. Really."

Instead of checking his urgent message, Neville's face turned gentle. "I really will be fine," he said. "Now Draco and I even have matching scars to bond over."

Harry flinched hard. He should have learned his lesson the first time instead of using the sectumsempra curse again. Nothing good had ever come from it.

"Hey, no, accidents happen and this one saved our butts from the acromantula," Neville rushed to add, meeting Harry's eyes earnestly. Harry searched his face, but there was no anger or blame, only understanding. "Don't worry about it, Harry. We're good."

"You're a good friend, Nev," Harry said thickly, so grateful for Neville's easy forgiveness, even if he wasn't sure he deserved it.

Neville produced an over-exaggerated sigh. "Well, I'll never play the trombone on stage again, but I still forgive you." He bumped shoulders with Harry and sent him an exaggeratedly doleful look.

Shoulders unknotting, Harry nudged him back. "You don't play the trombone. And you still get stage fright, Neville."

Smirking, Neville snapped the fingers of his uninjured hand and pointed. "You're right. Phew, I'm fine then."

The lift stopped at a random floor and opened to let on a family of four. When they saw Harry, the mother's face blanched and she let loose a startled scream. Snatching up her children's arms, she yanked them back down the hall. The children started wailing. The father, double-chin quivering, fumbled out his wand and rapidly followed. Everyone on the floor turned to watch. It was a relief when the door finally slid shut again.

"Sheep," snarled Sirius, glaring coldly at the closed door. The lift went sideways and then up again.

Mood once more plummeting, Harry turned back to Neville. "Tell me the truth. Is there permanent damage to your arm?"

Neville's lips curved in a half smile as he shook his head. "No, just a few scars that'll win me points with the ladies and our coworkers. Everything else will be as good as new in a few hours, tomorrow by the latest. It was mostly surface damage, so I didn't even have to regrow any bones." The lift slowed as it neared the ground floor.

"Okay," Harry breathed, clenching and unclenching the wand hand hidden by his side.

"How about you? Are you okay?" Neville asked compassionately. "I tried to see you earlier, but the healers weren't letting anyone in, said you needed rest."

"I'm fine," Harry said brusquely. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his problems and screw-ups. Though hadn't that been what got him into this mess in the first place? Not talking?

Clearing his throat, he turned to Sirius. "So what happened to your arm? And why's your nose all big and gray?"

The lift dinged, the doors sliding open on the street outside the hospital. "Sorry, that's my cue to leave," Neville apologized as they stepped out onto the street. "I need to answer this work summons. It's probably Walpole needing another signature for that Death Eater file and abusing his mirror privileges, but I should be getting back anyways." Harry wanted to ask for more details, wanted Neville to listen to it in front of him, but he didn't have the clearance anymore and Neville must know that too. "I'll see you later," Neville said tactfully. Nodding farewell, he apparated away almost silently.

Harry clenched and unclenched his wand hand again, feeling powerless, but kept himself from drawing his wand just to do something he was sure to regret later.

Clapping his hand on Harry's shoulder, Sirius got them walking down the cobblestone street. The day should've matched his mood and been cloudy and gray, but instead, clear blue skies and a bright yellow sun arched overhead. Harry rolled his shoulders and forced them down, trying to keep them from hunching up around his ears the way they wanted to at the stares from passerbys.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Sirius open his mouth. Harry just knew it was going to be a question he didn't want to answer. He interrupted first, "So, you gonna tell me how you got hurt? Did you get jinxed on the stairs again? Or did one of your own pranks backfire?"

The distraction worked. Sirius rubbed his gray nose with the hand not in a sling and looked away. The tips of his ears went red. "I had to pee and got hit by a spell in the bathroom," Sirius mumbled. "Go ahead and laugh. This is like the ultimate in potty humor."

"Dad!" Harry snapped, unable to find humor in Sirius getting attacked again. Not in his current mood. "I thought you were going to be more careful about defending yourself!"

"I'm fine! Someone just bounced a spell off the mirror as the door was closing!" Sirius defended. "My bladder was bursting and I was already opening my robes, okay?"

"No, it's not okay! We're lucky you're not dead! What did the spell do?" Harry demanded, a kernal of fear unfurling in his gut at the possibilities.

Running a hand over his head, Sirius gave a long, drawn out sigh, "Horrible things, Harry. Horrible! It turned my nose into an upside-down elephant's trunk and my arm into a second trunk."

Panic fizzling into confusion, Harry blinked at him, almost tripping going down the curb as they crossed the street.

Tilting his nose up into the air pretentiously, Sirius sighed tragically. "I wouldn't recommend it. Here's a word of advice for you, young Harry. If you ever have to smell with two noses, don't do it in the men's room on the fifth floor. The cleaning charms are not up to snuff in there. At all!" He wrinkled his gray nose and shuddered with disgust.

"That's ridiculous," Harry huffed, torn between hitting Sirius and chuckling.

"I know!" Sirius flung out his hand. "My life! At least I should be back to my normal handsome self in a few hours once the potions absorb completely. Until then, I have to regrow the bones in my arm and walk around with a big gray schnauze. Hoshimi's mad too and feeling unnecessarily guilty. I have to hide from her while I'm so ugly in case she tries to break up with me in a panic."

They lapsed into silence, eventually turning down a deserted side street with a small park. The park gate had hinges that screeched as they pushed it open. Inside, naked branches arched overhead, shadowing the path and nearby pond with dark lines. The breeze wrinkled the surface of the pond, making it look like a crumpled up piece of dirty newsprint.

Words built up sourly on Harry's tongue. Holding them back became painful, but actually saying them might be worse. He kicked a loose pebble out of his path and rubbed the back of his neck. Sweat trickled down his spine, making him feel clammy. His last bath had been a long time ago. Harry loosened the ties on his cloak to let in more of the crisp fall air, but it didn't help.

The screech of the park gate sounded at his back. Harry glanced over, but no one was there. The empty gate moved slowly beneath the striped shadows of the trees, likely pushed by the wind.

Stopping by the small pond in the middle of the park, Sirius put his hands behind his back and looked at Harry from the corner of his eye. "You wanna finally talk about it?"

Harry grunted and kicked at a wet pile of leaves on the ground. "Not really."

"They wouldn't let me in to see you," Sirius said after a moment, a thread of pain in his tone as he looked across the water. "I was told you weren't seriously injured, but a bunch of people kept marching in and out of your room. Healer Roberts told me she couldn't stall for you anymore and that you needed to follow her advice, obviously assuming I knew all about it. Then rumors started swirling around the Ministry about your suspension and an unflattering article came out in The Prophet. You seen it yet?"

Harry flattened his lips and nodded.

"So," Sirius said slowly. "I don't usually trust the rumors when it comes to you, but I also noticed that your Auror amulet is missing. I'm worried. Please, talk to me, son."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry looked down at the wand fisted in his hand and confessed, "I screwed up."

Humming nonjudgmentally, Sirius gently prompted, "Well, not to toot my own horn—or elephant trunk as it were—but there's no one better equipped than me to understand royally screwing up. Why don't you tell me about it?"

Against his will, Harry's eyes squeezed shut and his voice went small. It became hard to breathe. "You'll be mad."

"Maybe. I'm famously hot-headed and far from perfect, though I'd like to think I've matured a lot over the years. I'll try not to be too much of an arse about it." Sirius moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Harry as they looked out across the pond. "No matter what, I'm on your side. We're family. Nothing you can say will change that," he said coaxingly.

Pushing hair out of his eyes, Harry told himself to just man up. "I got suspended," he admitted, saying the easier but still sucky part first. "I lost control of a curse and butchered three acromantula, sliced open Neville's arm, and almost injured a kidnapping victim."

Harry licked his dry lips. "That's bad enough, but this isn't the first time I've lost control out in the field. It's just the most splashy. I've been hiding—" sucking in a painful breath at the look on his dad's face, he focused instead on the rippled surface of the pond and forced himself to finish, "—hiding the fact that the damage to my magical core is getting worse."

Sirius jerked as if stabbed and sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. The faint wrinkles on his face deepened. His eyes went dark and wounded.

Now that he'd started, Harry just wanted to get it all out and be done with it. "At first it was just little things, cleaning spells going awry, Lumos spells needing three tries to work, but nothing serious. It didn't seem important and then when it kept happening, I didn't want to worry anyone. I thought I could figure it out on my own, but… but once I started paying attention, I couldn't pretend anymore. My problems were getting worse. It's become almost impossible to predict when a spell will come out normal and when it will be either too weak or too strong."

Pulling back his foot, Harry kicked a rock into the pond with a violent splash. "Even when it started affecting my work, I still kept quiet. Everything else in my life was going great. I didn't want to lose that. I still thought I could figure things out myself and not have to bother anyone. Healer Roberts noticed the problem with my magical core during my annual physical, but the damage done during my duel with Voldemort was unique. Despite that, she assumed I fit the usual slow progression of Fracturing Magical Core Syndrome over decades of life and let me convince her to hold off on reporting me. When I lost control yesterday and almost killed everyone, they could've suspended her too. Luckily she got away with only a slap on the wrist. The DMLE suspended me, but aren't going to charge me with anything, so that's lucky too I guess, though it doesn't feel lucky. There's no cure for FMCS, so maybe they thought that was punishment enough."

"Oh, pup," Sirius choked out, throwing his arm over Harry's shoulder to pull him to his chest. "Things really have gone arse over tit, haven't they son?" Burying his face in his Dad's shoulder, careful not to jostle the sling on the other side, Harry clutched the back of Sirius's robe and just breathed.

"They have," Harry said with a bitter laugh. He forced himself to step back before he succumbed to tears at the warmth of the embrace and let himself pretend things weren't that bad, that he wasn't alone in this. His whole life, it had always turned out that way.

And who'd want to volunteer to drown in the muck with him? Harry would get out of it too, if he had the choice. He couldn't blame anyone else for doing the same. Not Ron, his best mate in school who's friendship sometimes faltered, not his dead parents, who'd died trying to shield him, not the Dursleys, the harsh muggles who'd unwillingly raised him, and not Sirius, who'd been so emotionally and mentally damaged by incarceration with Dementors that it was a miracle he could function at all and had to be forgiven for the lost hours and days when he didn't recognize or trust anyone and his mind trapped him in either nightmares or nothingness.

At the end of the day, everyone left him. They couldn't help it. He was too difficult. Love and friendship didn't change the fact that he always ended up facing his darkest battles alone.

And he wouldn't blame Hermione for leaving him after this either. She'd probably be safer and happier with someone else. He was too damaged, too dangerous. What if one of his spells hurt her? He'd never forgive himself. Not to mention, what woman would want to be torn down in the paper just for associating with him? She'd endured too much unmerited punishment already in her life. The last thing she needed was to deal with more now, just when she was finally coming into her own.

"As if all that's not bad enough," Harry said, picking up a handful of dry leaves and letting them tumble through his fingers, "the papers once again have people convinced I've lost my marbles. You saw it! They insulted Hermione just because she's my girlfriend, called us both dark, and told everyone that Voldemort's back!" Harry fisted the last leaf with a crunch and began to pace. "Not only that, but that I'm helping Voldemort come back. As if I didn't spend most of my life fighting and destroying him, soul piece by soul piece. Voldemort is dead! I saw and felt him die. I know it! And I'm not a liar or crazy, but no one ever believes me!" he cried, only then realizing that he was shaking. His whole body was shaking, though he couldn't tell if it was with rage or pain. "They never believe me."

"That's not true!" Hermione's voice rang out from the empty air.

Shocked, Harry's eyes jerked over to see the brown and gray bark of a nearby tree shimmer into the shape of a person. Seconds later Hermione appeared. A Disillusionment Charm must've helped her to blend into her surroundings chameleon-like while she came closer, though he didn't know why she'd use it to sneak up on him.

Hermione ran forward and flung her arms tightly around Harry. "I believe you!" she declared fiercely against his neck, the cloud of her sweet-smelling curls brushing softly against his face.

Sirius's long fingers squeezed Harry's shoulder as he pressed in from the other side, his tall, lean form bent over them protectively. "You know I do, too. I believe you, Harry! I may be frustrated at you for," Hermione let go of Harry just long enough to thwack Sirius on the arm, "—ouch!—for not telling me the truth when this first started, but I understand why and I'm not mad," Sirius added quickly. "Whatever the case, I know now and you aren't alone in this anymore."

"I'm here too," Hermione said firmly. "You never should've hid your problems from us—I've been eavesdropping for a couple of minutes, so don't think to hide anything more now, Harry James Potter! I could've gotten so many books on this by now. So many! But I'll do that next. And I thought you'd been so unhappy and anxious lately because you wanted to break up with me and didn't know how, not that we should be talking about the state of our relationship right now." Hermione sucked in a quick breath and finished fiercely, "But no matter what happens, I am always on your side, Harry. Always. You aren't alone. And we will find a way to save you. You can count on that."

Abruptly it all became too much. Harry just… couldn't deal with it. Couldn't trust it. The bad, the good, all of it was crushing him. His eyes slammed shut, his lungs stopped working, and his body turned to ice. His teeth began to chatter.

Hermione crooned something wordless and pulled him into her body more firmly, surrounding and supporting him. "We've got you Harry, no matter what. We love you. You aren't alone."

Frantically trying to breathe, Harry's muscles clenched and spasmed uncontrollably. Was he going to pass out? What if he didn't? What if he let himself believe and it didn't happen? If he let himself lean and no one reached out to catch him before he fell? That pain might break him for good this time. Harry was going to shake to pieces. He was fracturing.

"We love you," Hermione repeated aggressively, as if daring him to disagree.

Jerking his face away to hide the tears, an injured animal sound escaped from Harry's throat.

Sirius yanked his floppy gray arm out of the sling with a growl and flung it around Harry's shoulder, thwacking him in the side of the head as he grabbed both Harry and the parts of Hermione he could reach in a rough embrace. Harry was pressed tightly in on either side, trapped, unable to turn away or hide the cutting sobs breaking free from his throat. Sirius dropped his mouth to Harry's ear and snarled, "You are loved, Harry Potter, and not alone!"

Those words broke the last fragile wall in Harry's mind. Hands clutching tightly at whatever he could reach, fat uncontrollable tears burst from his eyes, an explosive release of pressure like the draining an infected wound. The tight press of bodies squeezing in on Harry should've made him feel trapped, made it harder to breathe. Conversely it made his breaths come easier, made the tears cathartic instead of acidic. Cradled between Hermione and Sirius, it felt like they were pressing his broken pieces back into place and warding him from further harm, as if he was something precious they would never let go. The discomfort of their too-tight fingers made it all the more real, made him feel safe.

Harry's tears eventually slowed, his body gradually quieted and went limp. He let himself trust that they'd hold him up and not let him fall and they didn't. Neither Sirius nor Hermione let go. They didn't sigh with impatience or drop arms that must be burning with fatigue. Instead their grip actually tightened, the fingers pressing harder and deeper. Harry hoped they'd leave bruises, that later that night alone in the dark when his problems screamed and slashed from the depths of his soul, he could look at the dark marks on his pale skin, Sirius's longer and Hermione's shorter, and press down on the bruises to feel this sweet ache again, to remember this moment of shelter, remember viscerally that they might really love him in truth, that he might not have to be alone.

But every moment eventually comes to an end.

They'd been still so long, a pigeon flapped down and landed on Sirius's head with a coo. Startled, Sirius jerked and swore, Hermione squeaked, and Harry swayed, but no one let go. The startled pigeon burst into frantic flight. It winged up into a nearby tree and glared down at them disapprovingly, hopping on its branch and ruffling its feathers.

Breaking into slightly hysterical giggles, Hermione said, "Oh dear, I hope it didn't poop on you Sirius, but your nose is gray!" Her face was wet. She reached up unselfconsciously and wiped her cheeks.

Harry felt his lips turn up weakly as he squeezed both Hermione and Sirius wordlessly and then stepped back, releasing them all from the embrace.

Sirius frantically ran his good hand over his face and hair looking for sticky spots while his other flopped from his shoulder limply. "You're fine. The gray is just from that elephant trunk hex," Harry said, his voice rough. Reaching out, he carefully lifted Sirius's injured arm and put it back into the sling.

"Thanks," Sirius said, his own eyes suspiciously red. Clearing his throat, he looked up at the pigeon and pointed a finger. "Hey birdbrain! I may be tall, but I'm not a perch. Got it?" Unimpressed, the pigeon ignored him and preened beneath his wing. "Hey Hermione, are you a feline animagus by chance and, if so, are you feeling hungry?"

"Sorry, no luck," Hermione said, gathering up her dishevelled curls in her hands and twisting them into a mass on the back of her head, which she secured with a set of blue-green enamelled combs. Harry wished they were his favorite red and gold ones. He decided to steal them again at the first opportunity.

Sirius tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "Anyway, why were you sneaking up on us with a disillusionment charm?"

Blushing, Hermione looked away towards the pond. "Er, sorry, one my my coworkers, Dominic Baxter, borrowed a book on behalf of the Department yesterday, but then went home sick. The owner floo called my boss stridently insisting on getting it back today. Inconveniently, his officemate, Alphonse Atkinson, took off after lunch and so couldn't do it instead. Since I have the least seniority in the Department, they made me retrieve the book from Baxter's office and take it back. I actually saw Lady Malfoy at the owner's house, but I don't really know her so it didn't seem appropriate to say hi."

"None of that explains why you were invisible and eavesdropping," Harry pointed out, barely managing to follow her explanation.

"It's not important," she said awkwardly.

"Maybe you should let us be the judge of that," Harry pressed, eager to move on to a different topic besides his problems.

Running her fingers over her head, Hermione mussed her smooth hairstyle, making one side of her hair hump up as she started babbling. "Okay, so I saw the paper and really really needed to talk to you, Harry, to explain something, but then people started acting weird when they saw me, and a reporter tried to make me give her an interview, but she was awful and I didn't want to talk to her. You'd already left Mungo's so I tried you at the Ministry, where I ran into Neville coming into the lobby, and he told me you'd gone walking this way but that he had an urgent meeting and couldn't show me the exact spot. People kept pointing at me and gossiping, and someone actually followed me out of the Ministry, which was really really creepy, so finally in desperation I ran around a corner, disillusioned myself, and kept searching until I found you here in the park, which wasn't actually that hard to find because Neville gives really good directions. It seemed like a really heavy conversation so I didn't want to interrupt, but then I couldn't help myself and that's it."

"Have I ever told you that you have very impressive breath control?" Sirius asked with amusement.

Hermione sent him smirk. "I used to swim laps every morning in France, but I've gotten out of the habit here in England. However, a good explanation requires not being interrupted constantly, so I've kept up my conditioning."

Before the two of them could go off on tangents, Harry interrupted, "But what was so important that you really really needed to talk to me?"

Shuffling uncomfortably, Hermione rubbed her hands down her sides. "I can tell you later. Today's already been heavy enough. It'll keep."

Harry opened his mouth to argue more, but just then the park gate shrieked open and clanged against the fence. Looking over, he saw a team of eight Aurors come striding into the park, wands in hand. Harry's stomach clenched. As the group neared, he recognized Akeem Bass and Neville in the back of the group, both still sporting bandages from the fight last night. Bass looked like he was chewing on nails and Neville like he wanted to be sick. None of it filled him with confidence.

Squaring his shoulders, Harry reminded himself that he wasn't alone this time. He had Sirius and Hermione. If they tried to arrest him on some trumped up charges of colluding with dark wizards, he would swear an oath to the contrary in public with witnesses. He would insist on seeing the warrant and would read over the language and laws cited carefully. Harry would cooperate, but he wouldn't blindly go like a lamb to the slaughter. The rules would be on his side this time. He wasn't some powerless and ignorant kid anymore.

Plus, he had allies in high places. Hermione was a genius, Draco was cunning, Ron was brave, and as the Deputy Minister of Magic, Sirius had a lot of strings to pull and would burn the world to the ground for him. Hadn't Harry just allowed himself to trust in that very thing? That his dad, not to mention Hermione, would be there for him no matter what? Sirius and Hermione moved up to flank Harry on either side, reinforcing his thoughts.

As the squad of aurors reached them, they spread out around Harry's group, trapping them against the shore of the pond unless they chose to Apparate away. Neville and Bass moved to the center of the group, but neither man would meet Harry's eyes.

"What's this all about then, gentlemen?" Sirius asked in a pleasant tone of voice not matched by the muscle jumping in his jaw and the crazy glint in his eyes. Even if Harry hadn't been involved, Sirius had very strong feelings about people being falsely imprisoned considering what had once happened to him.

Harry realized he'd unconsciously dropped his wand into his fingers. He wasn't feeling as confident as he'd thought. In fact, there was a good chance this confrontation would end in violence.

"If you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to bring out a whole squad looking for trouble." Harry kept his wand pointed down, though it took effort when he saw Quentin Walpole getting twitchy out of the corner of his eye. That pissant probably hoped Harry would give him an excuse to attack. "So?"

Bass and Neville exchanged heavy glances and then Bass took a single step forward. "We're not here for you, Harry." Bass's bleak gaze touched on Harry's uncomprehending face and then moved to the side. To Hermione. "We're here to execute a warrant of arrest against Hermione Jean Granger on suspicion of colluding with Death Eaters."

"What? No!" Harry protested in shock and mounting rage, shifting to place himself in front of Hermione. How dare they go for Hermione to hurt him. How dare they! The grass at his feet crisped in the heat of his anger, releasing wisps of steam and pale smoke. The circling Aurors clutched their wands and shifted uneasily. They were right to fear.

Sirius stepped forward to join Harry in standing protectively in front of Hermione. "Do you have any actual evidence for that besides slanderous news articles and hearsay? I'd like to see this warrant for myself."

"I'm going to take it out of my pocket," Bass said, reaching slowly into his cloak to pull out the warrant scroll and pass it to Sirius. "No one has to like it, but we do have to do our job. The law is clear," Bass's voice was clipped. "Magicals are legally required to report any sightings of Death Eaters. Associating with or aiding Death Eaters is illegal. Hiding Death Eaters is illegal. You two know this legislation as well as I do, perhaps better."

Unable to find any fault with the language of the warrant, a thin-lipped Sirius threw it back to the Auror. The white scroll stood out starkly in Bass's dark fist.

Harry widened his stance. "This is insane! Somebody's grasping at straws with this. Hermione's my girlfriend and a muggleborn. She's probably never even seen a Death Eater, much less colluded with one!" Harry dropped his chin and glared. "You're not taking her anywhere," he vowed.

Face miserable but resolute, Neville pulled out a clear evidence bag and took a step forward. "I'm sorry, Harry, but you don't know all of the facts. Inside the acromantula barn they found the bodies of Death Eaters Macnair and Rookwood. This was found with the bodies. Recognize it?" Neville thrust out the evidence bag to hang damningly in the air.

The setting sun winked teasingly off the red and gold enamel of a woman's hair comb, gleaming except where it was smudged with dried blood, dirt, and scraps of hay. Of course Harry recognized it. It was Hermione's hair comb from Harry's favorite set, the ones he liked to steal for kisses, the ones they flirted with in public all of the time. As Harry's friend, it made sense that Neville would recognize it too.

The world tilted sideways.

"This isn't what it looks like!" Hermione's strident voice had Harry swinging around to look her in the eyes, hoping for a different explanation, for denial and innocence, but the recognition and panic in her face made his knees go weak. "I wouldn't—I didn't help them. This is just a misunderstanding!"

"But you admit that you were with these men at some point, Miss Granger. How do you explain not reporting that? You have to know what they are, what they've done. Why would you protect Death Eaters? Men who tried to kill your boyfriend and destroy our government?" Bass's eyes were full of anger and betrayal.

Face bloodless and eyes gone huge, Hermione cried desperately, "No! I wasn't protecting them, I was trying to prote—mmph!"

Sirius's large hand reached around Hermione's head to cover her mouth, smothering the rest of her explanation. He grimly yanked her back against his chest. Expression granite, Sirius flatly announced, "No matter what the evidence looks like, or her innocence or guilt, Ms. Granger is going to wait for her lawyer to be present before explaining herself. She's going to wait. Right?" He looked down sternly and waited until she nodded weakly before releasing her.

"Harry," she croaked painfully at whatever look was on his face, but Sirius cut his hand sharply through the air and Hermione's mouth snapped shut with a click.

Stepping cautiously up to Hermione, keeping Harry in the corner of his eye, Bass pulled out a tongue depressor. It was a portkey that would deposit her directly into a special cell in the DMLE. "Hermione Jean Granger, you are under arrest on suspicion of colluding with Death Eaters. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?"

At her anemic nod, Bass held out his empty hand. "Please hand over your wand." Breathing rapidly, Hermione reluctantly passed it over. Bass tucked it into his cloak with a grimace and held out the portkey. "Let's go."

Casting Harry a final pleading glance, Hermione didn't wait for his response, though he wasn't sure what it would've been if she had waited. Instead she quickly reached out and touched the portkey with trembling fingers. Hermione and Bass both disappeared.

Within seconds, the rest of the aurors had Apparated away from the park, all except for Walpole. "We'll be coming for your dark arse next, Potter," he hissed. Harry snapped his wand up into firing position. Eyes bugging out, Walpole flinched backwards and Apparated away with a pop, hopefully landing at his destination flat on his back.

"Harry, we need to go," Sirius urged.

Breathing hard, Harry gritted his teeth and wrestled for control. It wasn't coming. The grass at his feet turned black and the edges of his boots started to melt, releasing acrid smoke. Head down, Harry stomped past Sirius and waded into the pond, releasing great gouts of hissing steam into the air. His anger still grew. Harry screamed. Birds shot out of the trees. The mist turned orange in the sunset and billowed across the park, while dry leaves on the ground and in the branches above sparked and caught fire, turning the area into a microcosm of hell.

Sirius was forced to retreat to the fenceline to avoid getting burned. "Harry, I need to get my lawyer over to the DMLE and figure out what the hell is going on," he called out. "Are you coming?"

Harry chewed the air silently, but words wouldn't come. Just rage.

Rubbing his face hard, Sirius said, "Okay, calm down and then find me. Don't go over to the ministry, you hear me! Come to my house first."

Harry wanted to burn the world to the ground.

"I asked, did you hear me?!" Sirius snapped.

"Yes!" Harry snarled gutturally, legs still dry despite standing calf-deep in water and clouds of steam.

Nodding curtly, Sirius looked away, "Okay, I'm going to lea—wait, no, screw that. James and Lily would kick my arse for leaving you alone here like this."

Turning on his heel, he marched back through the burning leaves and splashed into the pond towards Harry. "I am your father and I am not leaving you alone. You are coming home with me right now! You can be angry in the bathtub if you need to, son, but I don't want you thinking you have to face this alone. You aren't alone and we'll get to the bottom of this together, alright?"

Reaching out, face screwed up in discomfort at the heat and dripping with sweat and condensation, Sirius grabbed Harry with his one good arm in a sideways hug.

At the touch, Harry's rage snuffed out, morphing into exhaustion. Warm water splashed up his legs, but the heat of his anger was gone. He didn't know what to feel anymore, what to believe.

He loved Hermione, he wanted to trust her, but at the same time, she obviously knew Macnair and Rookwood, had met up with Harry's enemies, and had kept silent about it. Why would she do that? Was there a good explanation or had she been planning to betray him this entire time? He didn't want to believe it, but that comb….

Turning into his dad's embrace, Harry buried his face in Sirius's shoulder and shook. His eyes stung, but no tears fell. Without Harry's magic to fuel it, the fires petered out, helped by the condensing fog that left everything soggy and dripping.

"I'm going to side-along Apparate us to the house," Sirius said tightly. "We'll figure this out. We will." He shook Harry in emphasis.

Feeling unusually passive, Harry just closed his eyes. A second later he felt a tug on his navel as magic yanked them away. He wished he could pass out and wake up to find this all a dream, but life had never been that kind to him. It was useless to expect that to change now.