Chapter Forty-Nine: Drag the Villain Hither by the Hair
Remus: Now
The two men took a moment to collect themselves. Remus was very nearly as overwhelmed as Severus. He knew he'd been given something exceptionally precious. And perhaps it wouldn't have occurred at all if not for the enormous pressure they were under at the moment. But that is how diamonds were formed, after all.
He would have liked to have held the man for longer, but he could tell Severus' habitual need for self-control was reasserting itself, and they still had memories to view, besides. There would be a time for closeness later. "Are you ready to go back in?" Remus sniffed, pulling himself together. Severus was still a bit dazed but otherwise remarkably composed. When he nodded resolutely, Remus held out his hand again, pulling the wand from his pocket in readiness. All the reluctance had disappeared from Severus' grip when he accepted, and Remus wasted no time throwing them back into the unfolding drama of Harry's memory.
"I just don't understand how you can draw a crowd this size so quickly," Hermione said, bending to peek through a gap in the window shade of Ollivander's shop. Though there was a considerable amount of noise outside, the place was deserted. Or rather, it had been evacuated in anticipation of their arrival. "I mean...and don't take this the wrong way, Harry...but you aren't all that special."
"It's a good thing you're around to remind me how mediocre I am, then. Severus stopped telling me years ago." Harry was milling around as if bored, his back turned to them and his recently paired wand held tightly in his fist.
"Maybe he doesn't find you mediocre anymore," she proposed, still studying the gathering outside.
"Well, I really think his opinion of me depends on which skills I'm practising at a given moment."
Remus couldn't help but smile at Severus' blush. The man caught him looking and dropped Remus' hand, which he'd still been holding, but his embarrassment only lasted a moment. "He isn't wrong, you know," he shrugged. Remus grinned outright.
"Alright. The Ministry agents are in place," Hermione said, straightening as Harry turned to face them. She seemed to only just recognize the state of him and was mildly horrified. "You've made an absolute mess of your makeup," she tutted quietly, reaching into her purse to pull out a compact.
She'd done a masterful job of concealing his condition, and Harry had left Grimmauld Place that night looking very much like himself. His old self. Perhaps only those closest to him would ever notice the difference. Though of course, Remus had, and it had been bittersweet. He hadn't realized he missed Harry's glasses until he'd seen them on his face again. Still, it had been a shame to hide his new eyes behind so much glass, coloured and otherwise.
Remus glanced over at Severus to find him stricken. "That's right," he exclaimed softly. "You weren't there to see him off." The man couldn't seem to pull his eyes from Harry. He shook his head but was incapable of answering, and Remus grasped him reassuringly by the shoulder. "I know," Remus whispered. "I miss that version of him, too, sometimes."
Severus swallowed thickly. "I know he's still him," he admitted sheepishly. "But it reminds me of all the small ways he's not anymore." Remus understood what he meant, but he wasn't sure how to respond, so he simply didn't.
"You look like a racoon in negative," Hermione chided as she examined the damage to his disguise where Harry had rubbed at his contacts. She didn't move to apply the makeup she held, though. Instead, she looked in the direction of the still-present Ollivander.
"He knows, Hermione," Harry told her. Remus and Severus shared an uneasy glance. The old man wasn't one to spread gossip, and Merlin knows he was surely privy to his share of secrets. Still, it made Remus uncomfortable how quickly and easily theirs was betrayed.
"You're sure?" Hermione whispered anxiously.
"Positive," Harry sighed. "Just do whatever it was you did before that made me not look like a corpse and let's get this over with." Looking highly uncomfortable, Hermione did as she was asked.
"Okay," she coached as she dabbed fresh colour around his eyes. "Remember: You're recovering well. The investigation is ongoing. No comment on your Auror position. Thank you for your concern," she recited in sing-song. "Be mindful of your fangs," she added. "And don't forget to blink."
Harry listened to her instructions, turning increasingly sombre before taking the compact from her hands, despite her objections, and wrapping her in an unexpected hug. "Thank you, Hermione," he whispered shakily.
"Whatever for?" she asked, finally relenting and returning the embrace.
"For being you. For treating me like me," he replied quietly. It was a touching moment, and Remus quite forgave Hermione for keeping secrets from them. She had always done what she thought was best for Harry. It hadn't always turned out to be, but her intentions were always pure.
"How else would I treat you?" she asked with a small laugh as they parted.
"Like a monster."
Harry said it so plainly, it broke Remus' heart. Perhaps he felt monstrosity was inherent to what he was now, and all this messing about with Rainey in the woods was simply him embracing his suspected nature. Though surely he didn't think the same of Remus and Severus. He knew they had always striven to rise above their instincts, though each was turned with just as much violence and spite.
Hermione shook her head at him. "A person's actions make them a monster, Harry, not their physical condition," she said confidently. Harry didn't seem wholly convinced, but he didn't argue. "Now, are you ready?" she asked, setting a hand on the door handle. He nodded and, with a steadying breath and a practised smile, they opened the door to an excited explosion of noise and flashing lights. Severus and Remus followed them through the door before it could drift to a close behind them and stepped to the side where they could view the entire gathering, as well as Harry and Hermione.
"It's no wonder he bolted," Severus muttered, shielding his eyes from the incessant flicker of flashbulbs. Remus had to admit he found the relentless commotion of the crowd unnerving. And Harry's senses were newly and extremely sensitive. He was clearly overwhelmed though trying valiantly to pretend he was not. His artificial smile was still in place, but his eyes evinced the breathless terror of a cornered animal.
"Yes, alright!" Hermione attempted to shout above the racket. "One at a time, if you please," she said, addressing the row of reporters at the front of the throng. Their overlapping questions gradually staggered themselves, but not enough to allow Harry time to answer. The frustrated young man held up his hands to beg for quiet. Eventually, the questions stopped altogether, and everyone waited with quills at the ready for what Harry was about to say.
"Listen. I appreciate your concern," he loudly told the assembly in general, "but I'm doing fine. Still recovering but doing well, thanks. No, I'll not go into what happened. I'm not well acquainted with the Ministry's investigation, though I can say there is one. No, I'm no longer an Auror. No, I have no idea what I'll be doing…"
Remus was confused by Harry's sudden distraction, but when he turned to discuss it with Severus, he found him just as preoccupied. The man grasped Remus' arm as if in warning. "Virgin blood," Severus explained shortly, testing the air and peering intently into the crowd. Harry wore a more subtle version of Severus' expression. "Something's not right about it. It's old," Severus scowled, sniffing. "It's cold," he added, confused. He released Remus to stalk the periphery of the crowd.
"Harry. Do they have any leads on the possible identities of your attackers?" Remus heard a reporter venture as he moved to follow his companion.
"No," Harry began, still distracted. "Um...they…"
"There," said Severus, pointing out a seedy-looking young man in the crowd. "In his hand. Do you see that?"
"Is...is that a phial of blood ?" Remus asked. Severus nodded, equally incensed.
"They tried to trigger him in front of the cameras," he said through teeth clenched in anger. "The absolute bastards. I could murder every last one of them."
"If Harry hasn't already beaten you to it," Remus pointed out with chagrin. That certainly seemed to be Rainey's plan, but Remus still couldn't quite imagine the young man capable. Severus seemed to be thinking much the same thing.
"Harry's never had the stomach for that kind of violence," he scoffed. "He's used anger to his advantage before, but murder?" He shook his head. "He instantly regretted attacking Draco. And it took Albus' fall to inspire him to cast the Killing Curse on the Dark Lord himself. Loraina, on the other hand…"
The vagrant they were observing suddenly seemed frightened. His eyes widened and he began backing out of the crowd. Remus glanced back and realised Harry was staring directly at the man.
"Severus. He's spotted him."
They divided their attention between the two young men. Harry watched with them as the would-be saboteur capped the phial, dropping it behind him as he hurriedly shuffled down the street. Severus seemed to be torn between the impulse to follow and the desire to stay close to Harry. Where in the hell were the Ministry agents, anyway? They did not have a vampire's sense of smell, but surely they were watching the crowd for suspicious activity.
It didn't matter in the end. With a pop, they abruptly found themselves several meters from where they once were. It was disorienting. From the shadowed doorway of a shop one street over, they heard the sudden outcry from the crowd. Harry had Apparated Hermione with him. She wrenched herself free from his grip and stepped back, livid. "What on Earth! We're meant to calm people, not start more rumours," she shouted fiercely but quietly. "Harry, what have you-?"
"Shut up, Hermione, and just listen," he snapped, not even looking at her. His eyes were glued to the nearby alley into which the strange man had just disappeared. "It's them," he explained curtly. "One of them, anyway. I'm going after him," he said, peeling off his glasses and shoving them into Hermione's reluctant hand.
"Harry, no," she said firmly but was ignored. "Harry, just look at me for a moment." She was beside herself. Remus understood her frustration first-hand. "The agents will be here soon. We're not far from where we were. Surely they heard us Apparate. Just tell them what you saw and let them-"
"No," Harry barked. "We've talked about this, Hermione."
"But what am I to tell the others?" she asked, at a loss and increasingly undone by his stubbornness.
"Don't care," Harry said, fishing out his coloured contacts and tossing them to the ground. His eyes were painted pitch beneath, and Remus could swear he could see Harry's fangs peek from between his lips when he spoke. And then he was off. Remus barely had an opportunity to process his departure before he felt Severus seize him around the waist with a single arm and heave him up onto his hip. Remus scrambled to find a secure grip around the man's shoulders as he felt his feet leave the ground.
It was an awkward way to travel, but thankfully they didn't have to go far. Harry slowed as he moved down the alley, darting from shadow to shadow. Severus set Remus back on his feet, and the werewolf strode at his side in a straight shot to the end of the lane. Stealth was not necessary for them, and Severus seemed to have spotted their target through the dark. Remus didn't have the vampire's night vision, but he smelled the stink of fear wafting down the narrow stone corridor and followed it just as confidently. The vagrant had tucked into a nook on the side of a building, throwing terrified glances back the way they had come. Oblivious, he watched the mouth of the alley intently even as Harry passed him and re-approached from behind.
Harry stood silently at the man's shoulder until he slowly became aware of a presence behind him and turned, almost reluctantly, to look into Harry's face. He opened his mouth to scream, and then they suddenly were Apparated to the Shrieking Shack. Remus found it difficult to regain his bearings with the man's bellows echoing off the panelled walls.
After exhausting the first, the man gasped to scream again, tugging fruitlessly at Harry's unyielding grip on his wrist as Harry stood staring at him impassively. He backhanded the man to silence him, and Remus winced at the casual violence. He couldn't deny that he'd wanted to do the same since spotting the bastard in the crowd, but there was no passion in Harry's strike, despite that he almost knocked the man unconscious. There was something disturbing about his blank expression. It was not at all what Remus was accustomed to where Harry was concerned. The young man was compulsively expressive, even and especially when he perhaps should not be. This apparent change in him chilled Remus to the bone. Severus, too, regarded his Dearest somberly as if recognizing yet another small way in which Harry was no longer himself.
The vagrant hung dazed and quiet in Harry's grasp, and Harry had to shake him quite a bit before he was once again responsive. Then Harry propped the man up in a nearby chair, never loosening his grip around his wrist. He scrutinized his prisoner closely now that he wasn't flailing about. "What is your name?" Harry asked in a low, dangerous voice.
"Ti-Timothy," the man squeaked. He was visibly trembling.
"You know what I am, don't you, Tim?" Harry said, punctuating the question with a rumbling growl, his expression completely devoid of kindness. It had the desired effect. A dark stain spread down the inner seam of Timothy's trousers and he nodded with a whimper. Harry looked down at the arm he clasped and pushed back the dirty, sweat-stained fabric to reveal a badly executed Dark Mark tattoo.
"The bungling fools," Severus muttered in disgust, looking over Harry's shoulder at the thing. "As if pretending to be a Death Eater wasn't moronic enough, they haven't even drawn it correctly," he sneered. Harry looked equally disgusted.
"Then you know why you're here?" he asked.
"I don't know nothing!" Timothy averred. "Honest. I just do what they tell me."
Harry squinted at him doubtfully. "Were you in the factory?"
"No," he said, shaking his head adamantly. "I swear. I never was in no factory. Honest!" he added, the shrillness of it making it no more believable. He was trembling even harder now and whining softly. Harry remained calm despite Timothy's returning panic.
"Do you know who was in the factory?"
The man shook his head again. "Nobody does. Them that done it weren't allowed to talk about it. And word is they're scared, 'cause it didn't go like expected. Don't know if...if they're scared of you," he said with a gulp. "Or if they're scared of the Boss."
"The Boss?" Harry demanded, eyes narrowing to angry slits. "Who is it?" Remus stepped closer, as eager to hear the answer as Harry was.
But Timothy merely grimaced, unable to speak. Harry had unconsciously tightened his grip on his wrist. Remus could swear he could hear the man's bones grinding together under Harry's fingers and he winced, but Harry noticed his lapse quickly enough and loosened his grip again before repeating his question.
"Don't know that either," Timothy finally confessed in a small, frightened voice. "There's not many as do, and I don't know which they are anyway."
Severus huffed his frustration, seeming to be bothered less by Harry's new ruthless turn than he was by its futility. "He's a worthless goddamned lackey like the rubbish they apprehended weeks ago," he spat, pacing angrily behind Harry. He exhausted the space available and turned back to return to where Remus stood but was brought up short by something in the shadows behind the man. The werewolf turned to find Rainey leaning against the busted door frame with her arms crossed, an affectionate smile on her lips as she watched Harry shake down his captive. Both men scowled at her. It was impossible to tell if she was part of the memory or an unexpected observer until Severus stalked over to her. He went to grasp her by the shoulders, but his hands went through her as if she were made of smoke. With a sneer, they ignored her re-solidifying image and turned their attention back to Harry.
The young man took a deep, calming breath and addressed Timothy again. "Okay. Let's try something else," Harry said. The granite steadiness in his voice was unnerving. He pulled out his new wand, and Timothy began to panic again at the sight of it, twisting in Harry's grasp.
"Don't kill me," he begged, breaking into tears. "Don't Crucio me! Please. I swear, I swear!"
"Shut up!" Harry barked. Remus thought he saw his skin seethe ever so subtly, but Harry kept the wolf at bay. His patience was clearly wearing thin, though. "I'm not going to kill you," he assured the other young man, once again calm. Timothy stopped struggling but gave Harry a distrustful look.
"Promise?" he asked, seemingly unaware of the snot making its way toward his trembling lips.
"I promise I'll do no more to you than your friends did to me," Harry answered coldly. That, however, did not serve to pacify Tim. "I'm looking for a man," Harry explained. "And rather than describe him, I'm just going to show him to you. Then you can tell me who he is and where to find him, if you know."
Remus and Severus shared a confused glance, which Timothy mirrored, though he seemed to have sense enough to dread what was about to happen. His eyes widened almost comically when Harry placed the tip of his wand to his own temple. "'Ere. What you gonna do with that, now?" he asked nervously, squirming as the memory dangling from the tip of Harry's wand drifted closer to him.
"I told you," said Harry. "I'm showing you someone. And then you are going to answer some questions."
Severus grimaced with pained understanding. "Harry, what are you doing?" Though it was not the act the man seemed to be questioning, it was the motive. Remus, however, had no idea what was happening, and his uncertainty left him almost as panicked and dreading as Timothy.
The man tried to avoid the shimmering strand but buckled into stillness as Harry increased the pressure around his injured wrist. Harry allowed the tail of his memory to sink into Timothy's temple and he went rigid, his eyes glazing over.
"What's going on, Severus?" Remus asked anxiously. Harry had gone quiet, waiting for Merlin knows what. "I've never heard of this." Timothy began to twitch in response to some unseen stimulus, and Harry carefully followed the man's jerky movements with his wand so that the memory would not slip out of his temple.
Severus didn't answer straight away. He looked abashed. "He's forcing this man to live one of his memories," Severus finally confessed. "I've warned him against the practice, though I suppose this situation doesn't strictly qualify."
Remus was amazed. He'd used the Pensieve before, but it had never even occurred to him that memories could be viewed in any other way. Severus was well versed in mind magic, though, so of course he would be familiar with what was happening. "He's showing him his attack? I didn't even know that was possible."
"It's dangerous," Severus warned. "For the viewer. The memory becomes one of your own. But it does not belong. It has to carve out room. It leaves you damaged."
Remus felt a presence at his shoulder. Rainey had been drawn from the shadows to watch the process with fascination. Harry seemed bored. He didn't bat an eye when Timothy began screaming. They were the shrill, piercing screams of agonizing pain, so unlike the terrified shouts of earlier.
It was then that Remus realized the man must be feeling the pain Harry had felt when he'd been fed the potion, and he felt ill. He cast a distressed look to Severus who appeared near to tears himself. Judging by the cries, it had to have been truly excruciating. And Remus knew Harry had experienced this pain for days. Harry had moaned and writhed in his sleep, but his throat had been so damaged he couldn't express the true extent of his suffering. Remus hated that he'd had to go through such an ordeal, and he hated the bastards who had forced it on him. Perhaps Harry's cold cruelty wasn't such a leap, after all. Remus couldn't imagine he'd be any more compassionate if the same had been done to him.
Seemingly satisfied that he'd seen enough, Harry reclaimed the memory, carefully slipping it back into his own head as Timothy quieted and slumped senselessly in his chair. He seemed exhausted. Still grasping his wrist, Harry crouched to bring his face level with the other man's, drawing close enough for his whisper to be heard. "You know now what I've lived through. Can you imagine, then, what I'm capable of?" Timothy did not answer, seemed unable at the moment, but his eyes held a terror born of understanding. "Now," Harry said quietly. "Do you know that man? The one with the potion. The one who shot my partner." He waited patiently for an answer, never easing his unblinking stare as a single tear preceded Timothy's barely perceptible nod. "That's good, Tim," he said encouragingly. "We're making progress. Do you know his name?" Again, the man nodded.
"Willy," the man croaked softly, his voice still ravaged from his screams. "Willy Royal. They calls him Prince William. Or His Highness. They're takin' the piss, but he thinks it's a sign of respect, 'cause he runs an ickle gang o' pushers. Tosser," he snorted. "Right poofter if you ask me." Then he gasped and gave Harry a frightened, apologetic look. "Sorry," he muttered.
Harry smirked, and Remus wondered what the man had seen to give Harry away. The young man didn't seem to take offence. "Don't worry about it, Tim. Where does one find His Highness, Prince William?"
"Has some mates on Tooly," Tim rasped. "But one finds him pretty regular on Knockturn outside Moribund's."
"He's known all this time," Remus whispered. "No wonder he didn't seem impressed by Kingsley's report. He knew they were at Moribund's already."
"And it's also why he tried to get them to quash the Ministry investigation. He didn't want them getting there first," Severus said with a shake of his head. He hadn't been present, but Remus had briefed on the meeting the next morning.
"But he never investigated it himself. He didn't leave Grimmauld Place for days after this. Hermione and I practically bled ourselves dry because he claimed he didn't feel like hunting."
"He didn't have to go," Severus said, glaring at Rainey. She'd returned to her threshold, a conniving look on her face. "He had an accomplice."
Harry finally released Timothy's bruised wrist and rose to his feet, apparently done with him. "I don't want to die," the man whispered.
"I told you I wasn't going to kill you," Harry said, not kindly but sounding more believable now that he'd gotten what he wanted and was feeling less frustrated.
"They will," Timothy whimpered, his face screwing up with proper tears now.
Harry sighed. "Let's ask our friend about it, shall we?" he proposed.
"Our friend?" Timothy asked, confused.
Harry turned to Rainey. Remus wondered how long he'd known she was there. Timothy didn't seem to like the look of her, but then who did? She pushed away from the doorframe and sauntered over. "Well done, Lovely," she said with a nod.
"Do we send him with a message and watch them scramble?" Harry asked, as casually as if they were discussing takeaway. "Or do we take them by surprise?"
Cobs considered for a moment. "Surprise is always an advantage," she shrugged. Harry nodded his agreement. Then he lifted his wand, alarming everyone present. "Harry!" Rainey cried, throwing up a hand to caution him, but Harry was already sweeping his wand in Timothy's direction. Remus watched it descend, and the pit of his stomach seemed to drop with it.
"Obliviate," Harry recited calmly. Timothy's eyes clouded over and he went still. Remus' hand flew to his mouth. His relief was not relieving. He felt certain that before the night was over, he would eventually lose the battle to keep the contents of his stomach where they were. Rainey lowered her hand and slowly nodded, and Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "You thought I was going to kill him, didn't you?" he asked as if insulted.
Rainey stared at him a moment, then simply shrugged. "It occurred to me you might."
"I told him I wouldn't."
"And he and I are Slytherin," she said. "We are well aware how little an enemy's word is worth."
"But I'm Gryffindor," Harry argued.
She smirked as if she wasn't so sure anymore. "Perhaps. But all that means, really, is when you break your word, you actually think it's justified."
Harry put away his wand. "They'll still know," he said ruefully. "He was likely meant to report to someone by now."
"It had to be done," Rainey assured him. "They won't know what he told us, at any rate. They might suspect what you're looking for, but they won't be sure of that, either. They'll likely think he was simply sloppy and was caught. Which is what happened. It will be fine."
"So," Harry asked with a wince as if dreading her answer, "where is everyone?"
"They were in the Headmistress' office," she reported, drifting over to examine their captive. She seemed vaguely amused by the state of him. She prodded him gently but Timothy didn't respond in any way and she seemed disappointed. "But they've gone home to Grimmauld," she said with a sigh as she turned back to Harry, suddenly bored, "suspecting that'd be where you turn up."
"How bad is it?"
Rainey chuckled. "Well, no one is especially pleased, but they haven't filed a Missing Persons just yet." She gave Harry a wily, appraising look. "I was surprised you'd told the Granger girl."
"She didn't leave me much choice," Harry confessed. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I suppose she told everyone I'd gone arsehole hunting?" he said miserably.
"No, actually," Rainey told him as if she'd been pleasantly surprised by it. "That's how I knew what you might really be up to. You can tell she isn't comfortable with lying, but the others trust her more than I do and didn't seem to question her that you'd simply panicked and disappeared. But then they don't know about our little project, either," she added with a wink. "They likely think you ran somewhere secluded to grieve over your condition." She sneered. "How refreshing to find them wrong." She stepped closer, giving Harry a look he'd have to wash off later. "I suspected you'd want privacy, whatever you were doing. And I eventually found you here."
"I suppose I'd better go deal with all of that, then," Harry said resignedly. He looked suddenly exhausted.
"I'll take care of our friend here," Rainey offered, casually picking him up and tossing him over her shoulder. "You go calm Mother," she smirked. "We'll talk later, Lovely."
