I'M BACK! That's right everyone, and Lord Bro is here with me! Thank you all for your patience in my brief hiatus, it's been much appreciated on my part. I've decided that there will be nine chapters in this act, then Act Three will have five chapters and a brief epilogue. Not to worry- there are still plenty more chapters to go! Whew! As always, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing!
St. Mungo's Hospital, Late June 1996
"Alright. Bring him in."
The man in the chair turns around to face the window, nodding as he speaks. The woman at the consol looks back at the two standing behind her. The badge on her lapel clearly reads "Anna Jones."
"You understand that you're here solely to observe?" the witch says. Harry James Potter and Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore both nod solemnly, though she wasn't just talking to them. Anna Jones turns back to the window, then angles the microphone closer to her mouth.
"Alright, Smith, I'm sending him in now." Harry glances back at the people gathered around him- dozens of witches and wizards, medical and Ministry alike, have gathered to witness the interrogation of the former Lord Voldemort.
The large metal door slides open, revealing two dementors and a pale-looking man, brought down from his former glory. He looks unaffected by the two dementors.
"Why?" Harry asks, knowing Dumbledore will know what he's thinking.
"He does not remember," Dumbledore says, looking slightly disgusted at the dementors, and slightly amused at the way Lord Voldemort treats them.
"You can let go of me, I'm not going anywhere," Lord Voldemort says. "You people have been hanging around me ever since I got here."
"Please have a seat," Smith says pleasantly, gesturing to the chair across from him. Lord Voldemort sits, the dementors leave, and the metal door slides closed.
"I'm just going to be asking you a few questions, alright," Smith says calmly.
"Yes, fine, get it on with, I was busy examining a calendar of fancy hippogriffs the man across from me was in possession of. He calls himself Gilderoy, what a silly name!"
Harry snickers. If Hermione were here, she probably would have kicked him.
"What is your name?" Smith asks.
"Lord Bob Ramon Olbeck," Lord Voldemort answers proudly. "But my friends call me Lord Bro."
"Your given name," Smith clarifies, unamused.
"This is my given name," Voldemort says. "I gave it to myself."
Smith sighs.
"When did you arrive here?" he asks.
"About a minute ago," Lord 'Bro' says.
Smith sighs again.
"At the hospital," he says.
"Oh." Lord Bro thinks about this for a moment. "About, hmm, three weeks?"
"And have you remembered anything in your treatment here?" Smith asks.
"I remember my snake," Voldemort says. "And Trixie and Cissy and Lukey-Pookey and all the other Ramonettes. But other than that, no."
"Ramonettes?" Smith asks.
"Death Eaters," Anna Jones hisses, shuffling through the papers around her- notes on Voldemort's condition.
"What is your earliest memory?" Smith asks.
"Hmm," Lord Bro says. "When I woke up, saw all those horrid people in dark cloaks, and then saw my face in the mirror. Hideous."
Harry snickers again
"You remember nothing of trying to take over the world?" Smith asks.
Lord Bro shakes his head.
"I can't see why I would," he replies. "When Lukey-Pookey says that there's always someone to stop me."
"Who is this… this… Lukey… Pookey?" Smith asks, sounding like he's trying not to choke. This time Harry does laugh.
"He's the man whose house I stayed at," Lord Bro answers. "Oh, no, I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Now he'll be mad."
"Lucius Malfoy?" Smith asks, and Lord Bro nods vigorously. "He won't be coming anywhere near you, don't worry. What happened in the events leading up to this? You were given Veritaserum, no?"
"Yes, I was," Lord Bro says.
"Do you still have a desire to purge the world of Muggles and Muggle-borns?" Smith asks.
"Oh, no," Lord Bro says. "I don't at all. The man next to me, I think he's called Bodhi or something, he's a Muggle-born and he's wonderful! Only, he alternates between making dog noises and incomplete sentences…"
"Thank you, Lord Bro, that will be enough," Anna Jones says quickly into the microphone before he can go off on a tangent. "The dementors will take you back to your bed now."
"One question," Lord Bro says as he stands.
"Yes?" Smith asks. Harry snickers, anticipating the question that Dumbledore says Voldemort has been asking every hour, on the hour, for the two weeks and six days he's been here.
"Where is my snake? I want my snake."
