sorry for the lack of updates, trying to stall and give myself as much time as possible to finish aphelion. i dont want to keep giving stuff away. although, those who read aphelion and speechless first do have a huge advantage over everyone who hasn't.
this plot keeps getting weirder, huh?
"The only thing you'll be drinking Lord Potter/Black is water," Slughorn said and handed him a glass goblet.
Hermione finally stopped strangling him with her tight hug and bush hair, "Why didn't you tell me?"
He shook his head, "Not here, Mione." Harry took a few sips of the water and set the goblet on the side table beside the couch, "I apologize, Professor, I should have known better. Thank you for saving my life, I owe you one."
"I'm afraid it is I who still owe you, Lord Potter/Black." He bowed his head and placed a hand on his chest, "You are the reason many of us are still alive and liberated."
"Yes, thank you, Professor. It seems every time one of them comes down here, they end up being poisoned." She mused, thinking of Ron's story of foaming at the mouth on the same rug some years before.
Harry sat at the edge of his seat, "Professor… what can you tell us about him?"
"Why are you here?" he countered immediately without pause before sipping his mead.
"We need to get into Professor Snape's old rooms." Hermione replied, "The Headmistress is unable to access that particular part of the castle."
He hummed in thought, "One wouldn't think it required hands-on assistance from the Ministry's finest."
Harry scowled, he'd forgotten he was dealing with a Slytherin, "Ministry classified."
"I know why you're here," He pointed to the offending object on the floor.
"Do you know where he is?"
"Do you know his last whereabouts?"
They both started their questioning immediately and her quill and pad at the ready.
He gave a sad sigh and looked at his goblet, "It's my duty. It's always been my duty. One, I'm ashamed to admit that I could have done better."
"What are you talking about, Professor?" they looked at each other, wondering why he was odd. At least more so than usual.
"To protect you, all of you." He replied sadly, giving them a pitiful look, "Promises are meant to be kept."
Hermione knew he was talking about turning a blind eye to a young Tom Riddle, initiating the students of his house, hiding the necessary details about the Horcruxes. "You did the best you could."
"Too little, too late!" he raised his voice angrily, pounding his fist on the arm of his chair, "I knew the boy wasn't safe at home. I should have done something sooner! No child should ever know the pain he went through."
The room got quiet; this was not how they thought their interrogation turned confession would go.
"We are a prideful house, you see. I tried talking to the boy, but he was so closed off and angry at the world." Slughorn took a much longer sip this time, "' I am my own savior,' is what he would always say, but he was only partially right."
"Partially?"
He smiled and sighed happily, looking into the flames, "She was the best thing that ever happened to him…"
The corner of Harry's mouth tugged, "My mum, you mean."
He tilted his head and narrowed her eyes, "Who?"
"My mother," Harry repeated.
He looked up in thought, "I'm sorry my boy, I don't recall who your mother is."
"Lily Potter nee Evans…" Hermione started and rolled her hands as if he were supposed to catch on.
"Porter! The Muggleborn one with red hair?" Slughorn's eyes widened in recognition and pointed to Hermione, "The one with the black eye."
Harry shook his head, fiercely, "What? No!"
Slughorn changed the topic suddenly, his eyes glazing over and looking to a spot on the rug, "They all had nicknames, you know?"
"Who did?" Hermione asked, giving Harry a side look. She was letting him know that their witness may be too intoxicated.
"The Order," he hiccupped, "since the very beginning they all had names. Your father had one…"
"Prongs."
"Do you know what they called me?"
Hermione leaned forward, "What did they call you, sir?"
"Judas. Rightfully so…"
Neither said nothing, taking a moment to glance at each other as they waited for him to continue.
"I tried, I truly did. Even before the war," he took another long drink from his goblet, "I arranged his apprenticeship, it was I who convinced Jiggers!"
"Sir?"
Slughorn sighed and slumped in his seat, "Yet, it wasn't enough. Certainly not worth the pain and suffering he'd been through. I retired early for him, you know?"
"You did?" she said in disbelief.
He nodded, "Yes, I knew he was spiraling out of control and would lose the shop. I offered to take on as a silent partner, opening up this role that would keep him off the streets and give him somewhere safe."
"But were we safe from him?" Harry blurted out, quickly shutting it as she elbowed him, "Sorry."
He looked up to Harry and smiled, a distant look in his eyes, "Seeing you tonight… brings joy in knowing that did something good."
Hermione put a hand on Harry's shoulder and rubbed it gently, "Yes, he made it out alright, didn't he?"
Slughorn looked off to the distance and muttered, "He did… and I kept my promise."
"Sir?"
"It's late," he said suddenly, standing up to usher them to the door, "I have things to finalize, and you have rest to catch up on."
They awkwardly jumped to their feet when he did, unprepared for the sudden movement, "Oh, yes."
"Thank you for your time Professor," Harry shook his hand, "Perhaps we can stop by tomorrow and go over some more things?"
"You should be getting bed rest, Lord Potter/Black," Slughorn was back to his perky drunk self, "not wasting your talents on a prison with no locks."
"So, we'll reach out if," Hermione was cut off by the door being promptly shut in their face, "alright…. Nice seeing you."
Harry looked down at her, "I know he's always been rather odd, but doesn't he seem worse?"
"He's drunk, Harry. I'm surprised we got as much as we did, let alone him being able to save your life in his condition." She brought it back around to the elephant in the dungeon, "Speaking of…"
"It's late," he stopped her, "Let's get you home, and we can talk about this tomorrow."
Usually, she would argue with him until she dragged it out of him, but their Professor was right, he needed his rest. "Alright, but it's I who will be taking you home."
Muffled yelling and banging could be heard from outside the Minister's office. Everyone in the bullpen was standing or sitting still as they stated at the wooden door where the noises came from. They waited in horror as two of the famous trio were getting their arses handed to them by the boss.
Inside the office, Harry and Hermione sat straight in their chairs with their jaws clenched shut and their eyes glued forward as Kingsley continued to berate them.
"Do you have any idea how much shit we would be in if this got out to the public?!" Kingsley pointed to the door, angrily, "You're my two best Aurors- you made the bloody law, and you broke it!"
"But, sir-"
"Don't cut me off, Potter! I'm not finished," he pointed at him to remain silent, "Leaving evidence behind is one thing, but leaving behind a deadly fucking piece of dark magic is past the point of verbally reprimanding you!"
Hermione's eyes went wide, she bit her lip before asking, "Sir, we fully accept responsibility, but termination is rather harsh!"
"Agreed." Harry added, "Besides, Slughorn is a member of The Order. The mask was safe with him."
"He makes a point, sir; the Ministry considers The Order a branch of the department. Firing us would be unnecessary."
Kingsley rounded on her next, "Not when discussing negligent homicide!"
"WHAT?!" Harry shot out of his seat, "What the fuck do you mean, Kings?"
"Park your arse, Potter!" he challenged him, "Else, I cuff you there!"
Hermione tugged him by the sleeve, "Sit down, Harry. Let's not get worked up."
Kingsley pulled the mask out of the top drawer of his desk along with a letter, "As much as I hate to say it, Granger is right."
She winced at the sharp sting of him using her last name rather than first. They remained silent as he continued, hoping they still might have their jobs after this.
"I'd very much like to fire you, hell if this got out the all of Britain would want me to can your arses. What the hell were you thinking? Potter, you know better than anyone that even those in The Order cannot be trusted. Did you even test him?"
"Er…"
"You're fucking with me." Kingsley scowled and leaned forward on his desk.
Hermione finally spoke up, "Sir, Harry had a medical emergency. A reaction to some of the potions that Madame Pomfrey gave Harry after he put the mask on."
"Merlin Potter! You put the bloody thing on?!" Kingsley stared at him.
"We didn't have any other way to open the letter!" he put his hands up, "We got another lead by the way."
"I don't care about your bloody leads! I care about the dead Professor at Hogwarts last seen by you two!" Kingsley started to rant, "You left a cursed object with a known alcoholic, he put the mask on and was unable to get it off. He passed away sometime the early hours this morning."
"Merlin…" Hermione put her hands to her mouth and leaned forward on her knees.
"Bloody hell," Harry ran a hand through his messy hair, "Why did he do it? He wasn't that bloody stupid."
"Agreed." Kingsley said solemnly, "Which is why I'm not firing you."
"Oh, thank god," Hermione breathed, "but why?"
Kingsley threw the mask and the letter at them, "It was an obvious suicide, he knew what he was doing. He was laying peacefully in his bed with the mask on, his hands folded together, and this letter addressed to you two on his bedside table."
Harry picked up the envelope, "This case just keeps getting weirder and weirder."
"You think that's weird? He sent his last will and testament to Gringotts right before he died," he brought out an officially sealed scroll and laid it out on the desk, "He signed everything he owns to a 'Lord Severus of House Prince', as I said he was drunk."
Harry read the letter to himself,
'Miss Granger and Lord Potter/Black,
If all your heroes are martyrs, shouldn't you be the same?
Eternal Gratitude for bringing me peace,
Potions Master, Head of Slytherin,
Horace Eugene Flaccus Slughorn'
He passed the note to her next, "What does that mean?"
"I was hoping you could tell me; it was addressed to you." Kingsley shrugged and gave him an annoyed look, "does any of it pertain to what you spoke of last night?"
"No, sir." She replied, "I take it, we still have our jobs because you were able to cover this up."
Kingsley held up three fingers, "I had to obliviate three house-elves and I am now in debt to McGonagall for keeping this under wraps. It's a bloody miracle you were smart enough to go in the cover of night. There's no one there to report the Ministry had anything to do with this."
"What are they telling everyone?" Harry asked and ran another hand through his hair. He couldn't believe Slughorn killed himself, they had just spoken to him less than twelve hours ago!
"He passed in his sleep, of old age, naturally." He explained, "Not uncommon in wizards who have an affinity for the dreamless drought and mead."
Hermione gasped, "You're spinning it to make him seem like a drunk!"
"He was a drunk, Mione." Harry pointed out.
Kingsley pinched the bridge of his nose, "From now on, no more fuck ups. I've got enough on my plate with Weasley harassing the female quidditch players in their locker room."
"Oh, Merlin," Harry groaned, "I'll talk to him."
"Your bloody right, you will. You owe me that much!" Kingsley snapped, "Now get your arses to the funeral! This gives you the perfect excuse to be on campus and look into Slughorn's chambers or Snape's for a lead."
