Warning: Mention of suicidal thoughts - i.e. I'd seriously rather be dead than do that and I'll find someone to help me end it.


Dispelling the Lies

by Indygodusk


Chapter 11: Hermione Doesn't Do Well in Prison

Hermione felt cold. Goosebumps covered her crossed arms. They'd taken her wand, athame, and outer robes, leaving her in a just a thin blouse and slacks. Shivering, she paced from wall to wall in her small white prison cell, bare of anything but a toilet in the corner and a bench that doubled as a bed bolted to the wall. There was nothing to distract her from her thoughts.

They'd tried to question her when she'd first come in, but she'd remembered Sirius's words and stayed silent until her barrister arrived, a Lady Ursula Teny on retainer to the House of Black. However, it shouldn't have mattered. The truth of her innocence was obvious. As soon as her disapproving barrister had given reluctant permission, Hermione had insisted on telling them all just what had happened that night. She spoke as clearly and succinctly as possible. She'd been a victim and had only been protecting herself and Harry. That should have been it.

So it had come as quite a shock when they'd thrown her back in this cold cell, a shock to Hermione, at least. No one else seemed surprised. Her barrister promised to come back first thing in the morning to discuss their options. After a sleepless night and barely touched food trays for both breakfast and lunch come and gone without getting any closer to freedom, Hermione's self-control was unravelling.

Although she knew the cold and silent cell was purposely designed to wear down resistance, she couldn't find the strength to fight the effect. She was cracking. Hermione had gotten used to always being warm with Harry around, gotten used to feeling safe with her curse gone, but now she faced the prospect of losing all of that.

The heartbreaking expression of betrayal on Harry's face kept thrusting into the forefront of her mind like a sharp dagger. She'd never wanted to hurt him. Now was the worst possible time for this to happen, especially with everything Harry was already going through. Hermione had been trying to protect him, but it had all gone wrong. Hermione always tried to do the right thing, no matter what the cost to herself. She just didn't understand why the cost always had to be so high.

And why Harry couldn't have trusted her instead of thinking the worst. Hadn't she earned at least that much consideration? Belief in her innocence until all of the evidence was presented? He hadn't said anything, but the expression on his face had been perfectly clear.

Although her body ached from a sleepless night spent pacing the narrow cell, Hermione couldn't bring herself to stop and sit down on the bench attached to the wall. The itch under her skin wouldn't let her, especially around her neck. Every time she sat and let her eyelids droop shut, she snapped back to awareness with a feeling of choking, her fingers scrabbling at the skin of her neck where she was fighting the feeling of a phantom choke collar tightening. Distantly she felt a sting from where she'd already drawn bloody lines with her nails, but it wasn't as sharp as it should be. Everything in her head felt off, either muffled or too bright without rhyme or reason. Hermione kept telling herself that it was all in her mind, that she was just going mental imagining the choke collar around her neck again, but the second she let her exhausted mind drift, the feeling came back and she found her nails picking at her skin just beneath the collar of her blouse.

Abruptly the sharp ring of a bell broke the silence of her cell, making Hermione jump. "Barrister Ursula Teny to see the prisoner," announced a muffled male voice. "Sit down on the bench with your hands beneath your thighs."

When Hermione didn't move fast enough, the overhead light blinked red green red and the order repeated more harshly, "Sit down on the bench with your hands beneath your thighs!" Sinking down onto the bench, which seemed to leech even more heat from her body, she made sure to pull the collar of her shirt up to cover the scratches on her neck before shoving her hands beneath her legs. She might be cracking, but she didn't need to announce that fact to the world.

Seconds later, the lock on her door clanked and groaned. The door swung open just wide enough to let in the lawyer from the day before. As soon as the woman stepped inside, the door swung shut again and the lock re-engaged.

"Hello, Lady Teny," Hermione greeted her barrister with forced composure. Lady Ursula Teny reminded Hermione of an egret. She was elegant and slim with feathered white hair, dusky skin, and sepia-colored irises ringed in dark brown.

Probably used to prison cells, the barrister seemed unfazed at being locked in with Hermione. She met Hermione's gaze and gave her a professional nod. "Sorry it took so long for me to come and see you again. Outside parties have been sticking their noses into the running of the DMLE and mucking up the works. I have a few clarifying questions for you and then we can talk options."

With that said, Lady Teny reached into her pocket and pulled out a restricted use wand with a bright orange tip, showing it had been preloaded with a limited number of spells approved for use around dangerous prisoners, and two small pieces of wood. Tossing the wood onto the floor, she enlarged them into a desk and chair. Sitting down gracefully, she pulled out three scrolls, two pots of ink, and several quills. "Ms. Granger, I'd like you to tell me again what happened that night. I'll stop you with my questions."

Voice raspy, Hermione told her story once more. The barrister listened with professional detachment. The high quality of Lady Teny's office supplies and the intelligent and pointed questions made Hermione think well of her competence. It gave Hermione hope that logic and reason would win the day and set her free. "...and so that's it. I don't see why I'm still in here and being treated like a dangerous prisoner." Her fingers drifted up to her neck and began scratching, but Hermione forced herself to stop and sit on her hands again, hoping Lady Teny hadn't noticed.

"Politics," Lady Teny said succinctly, making a few more marks on one of her parchments before putting down the quill and sitting back to look Hermione straight in the eyes. "I'm going to be blunt with you, Ms. Granger. As one of the best barristers in Britain, I'm going to do my best to get you off with no more than a slap on the wrist, but this is too high profile a crime to keep it as simple as it should be. The Ministry, even in its current incarnation, has a history of overreacting when either Death Eaters or Harry Potter are involved, and this has both. You also aren't titled or rich, and your rich friends are falling out of favor as we speak. In fact, your friendship with Lord Potter and Lord Black is the main reason this case is so complicated. A lot of people would like to attack them using you as a leverage point. I'm also sorry to say that prejudices still being what they are in this country, being muggleborn and female will count against you in a court of law. The fact that the dead bodies are Death Eaters should make this a simple case of self-defense, but there are people in high places who want to use your trial to suit their own agendas, so we're going to have to defend you on multiple fronts."

Pursing her lips, the barrister asked, "Next time you're questioned, do you think you could act like a fragile and powerless victim of circumstance?"

"What do you mean, act? I am a victim! I'm a good person who told the truth! I shouldn't be locked up for defending myself. This is ridiculous!" Hermione answered stridently.

Everything was spiraling out of control. Her breath came short. Ragged nails digging painfully into the underside of her thighs, she tried to keep from screaming. Surging to her feet, Hermione fisted her hands and paced the narrow path between her bench and the desk.

Sighing cynically, the barrister shook her head. "I thought not. Your strength of will and intelligence will come off as challenging, especially in this political climate. If you've been completely honest with me," she ignored Hermione's affronted glare, "then your best bet is to ask for testimony under veritaserum."

The word veritaserum rang in Hermione's ears, making the rest of Lady Teny's words sound garbled, like they were coming from underwater. Hermione's feet became too heavy to move and she swayed on her feet as the barrister explained. "Since it's expensive to make, they don't always approve its use, especially with cooperative witnesses - which we want you to be - but considering it touches on the former Dark Lord, his followers, as well as your association with Lord Potter, I think I can push it through."

"No," Hermione forced out as her throat became encased in a ring of ice. She struggled for breath. "No." Her tongue wanted to curl up to touch the roof of her open mouth, but she wouldn't let it. No.

Lady Teny's eyes narrowed. "Ms. Granger, you have to realize that it will be difficult to prove your story otherwise. As far as we can tell, there are no witnesses to anything between you leaving the chocolate shop and then arriving several hours later at Lord Black's party. There's nothing but your word to say you were a victim instead of a collaborator."

Although Hermione opened her mouth to once more try and explain, nothing came out. Her mind went blank. Liquid dripped from Hermione's nose onto her upper lip. For a frozen moment, it felt like a bloody nose again, just like the bloody noses she'd always gotten when she'd fought futilely against the Choke Collar Curse that had kept her silent and in pain for so many years. Wiping her nose, she steeled herself before looking at her fingertips, only to see the clear shine of normal snot, not the red of blood. Her arm dropped limply to her side in relief.

"I-I can't," Hermione forced herself to say. "If I take veritaserum, they could make me tell them anything and I wouldn't have a choice. I'd have no control. It would be like being under that curse all over again, an outside force trapping me, overriding my tongue. I can't do that again. I can't, please." Sobbing, she dropped to her heels and buried her head in her hands, rocking back and forth searching futilely for comfort.

It took Hermione several minutes to get control of her weeping. By the time she managed to stop, she expected her barrister to be gone, frustrated by her emotional and uncooperative client. Instead, Lady Teny was bent over her scrolls scribbling notes.

Pushing herself up to sit on the bench, Hermione wiped her face dry with the sleeves of her robe and took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall apart on you, Lady Teny," she apologized, voice hoarse and ashamed.

"Don't worry about it," Lady Teny said simply. "And in private, feel free to call me Ursula if it will make you more comfortable working with me. As your counsel, Lord Black told me a little about you when securing my services. Is the curse you're referencing the one that was broken last year by a conclave led by Lord Potter? The illegal Choke Collar Curse that tied you to the Dementor plane to keep you from implicating Prunellie Moreau for crimes including child abuse, torture, murder, and mind control?"

Pressing her lips tight together, Hermione nodded.

Ursula blew out an even breath. "Alright, I'll try to get the DMLE to take that into account. It should help that you cooperated fully as soon as the curse was lifted. In my opinion, the only legitimate charge we're facing right now is obstruction of justice by failing to report a crime."

Leaning back against the rough stone wall, drained, Hermione asked, "What happens if they convict me? I need to have all the facts, please. Just in case."

"I'm not ready to throw in the towel that easily, but if that's what you want to talk about, we can." Ursula closed one of her pots of ink and rolled up two of the scrolls. "There are several scenarios from worst to best case," she waited for Hermione's nod before continuing. "Brace yourself, and I don't think they'll be able to swing it, but absolutely worse case scenario, they send you to Azkaban for a few years until the political climate changes and we force through an appeal."

Hermione had to slap a hand over her mouth to trap the vomit trying to sprew from her throat. The world swayed. Swallowing the acid down painfully, she fought to stay conscious through the black spotting her vision. Dear Merlin, to be trapped with Dementors again. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't. She'd kill herself first. If she asked him to find a way, Sirius would grant her that mercy, even if he had to sneak in as a grim, slash open her throat, and ferry her to the other side himself. Wouldn't he?

Please, anything but Dementors.

"Ms. Granger! Hermione!" The barrister repeated forcefully until Hermione opened her dazed eyes and forced herself to focus. "I need you to breathe, alright, and listen. Hermione, that is very unlikely to happen! Less than a five percent chance, if even that, based on the circumstantial evidence."

When Hermione managed a faint nod, Ursula continued. "If we actually lose your trial, it's likely that they'll only convict you on one of the lesser charges. You might lose Ministry employment and/or face a fine. Further incarceration is very unlikely. However, if I can spin this right, and I am one of the best, you won't be convicted of anything. I honestly think I can get you out free and clear. Alright?"

Blowing out a breath, Hermione forced herself to speak. "Okay. What are my options besides veritaserum?"

"Would you be willing to give a pensieve memory? The spell is a simple one and minimally invasive."

Hermione nodded eagerly. "I can do that."

"Then I'll pursue that option next," Ursula said. "However, you should know that testimony given through pensieve memories still might require additional proof of innocence. I'll let them know that veritaserum is off the table, based on your previous trauma with spells that take away control of what you say."

"Why would they need more proof," Hermione frowned, restraining herself to a flinch at the repeated mention of the veritaserum and her curse. "If they see what happened in my memories, won't it prove that I'm telling the truth?"

"Ah, but memories, like books, can be edited to reveal only only certain truths." Ursula tilted her head condescendingly. "For example, I could show you a memory of a shopkeeper killing a thief while defending his store. A simple truth. However, if you asked the right questions, such as with the use of veritaserum, you'd discover that the shopkeeper was really the head of a criminal enterprise who had ordered a hit on a rival gang the day before that had killed four people, including innocent bystanders. You'd also learn that the thief was the hitman the shopkeeper had underpaid for the job, who'd broken in to steal what he felt he was owed. Finally, you'd discover that most of the money in the shopkeeper's safe came from dealing in illegal goods, including body parts from endangered and sentient creatures. Now the truth from a single chapter, a single memory, is not so simple. This example comes from a case early in my career. Do you see the difficulty?"

Hermione nodded unhappily and looked down at her wrinkled slacks. "I understand."

"Nevertheless, a pensieve memory is much stronger than a mere verbal confession," the barrister said bracingly. "Since we're the defendants, we will want to be very careful in where we start and stop the memory. We also don't want to give them carte blanche to access any of your other memories as they see fit, but, depending on how the events portray your actions, we should be able to argue for bail being set to get you out of here at the very least, especially if we can get them to empathize with your experience during the viewing. If you don't have any other questions, I'll go and get that set into motion."

"Sounds good," Hermione said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "Am I allowed visitors yet?"

"Not until I can get you moved to a less restricted cell, I'm sorry." Shrinking the desk and chair back down, the barrister stowed them in her pocket with her scrolls and quills. The orange at the tip of the wand turned white, showing that it was empty of spells and that the core had disintegrated. No reason for a prisoner to steal a useless wand, she supposed. Ursula gave a sharp rap at the door. "Keep your chin up, Ms. Granger. I'll see you soon."

Of course, that's what she'd said yesterday too, Hermione thought. The door clanked open and the barrister left. The door closed with a hollow boom. Absently picking at the scabs on her neck, Hermione resumed pacing her cell.


AN: This week has been rough. Too much snow! Sickness! No sleep because of coughing! Snow days for the kids! Bah. I'm ready for winter to be over. At least I'm not in the middle of the Polar Vortex like I used to be before I moved. That was still worse. Humidity AND cold makes everything worse.

However, I did get to try out Russel Stover Hot Chocolate, which is a pouch of little chocolate Santas instead of a powder. You melt them in hot milk. I had to take 2 generic lactaid pills because I'm lactose intolerant, but it was totally worth it. Yummy!

I'm also 2 months into an Amish Friendship Bread Starter and trying to find a reason to not give up on it. I've made a lot of good sweet breads, but I'm not convinced that I couldn't have made those without the living yeast culture. I was hoping it would be strong enough to make traditional bread, but you still have to add dried yeast to those recipes. I read that you could freeze it, but will I ever pull it out of the freezer? Grr.

Next chapter we finally learn what happened to Hermione at the end of the first chapter. I know a lot of you have been dying to find out. See you soon!