Okay, an extra long chapter fro two reasons. First, I just had a lot I wanted to get in here, but splitting it up would have made it two short chapters, and that's never fun. And second, because I took so darn much time to write it. I'm sorry. I had rather hoped to have this out last week, but then a friend came to visit and I had obligations to keep… and then my boyfriend proposed to me, so I've been giddy and calling all of my family and being to annoyingly cheerful to get the tone right for this story. I hope you like what I give you, and please don't leave me after you read this chapter.
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"He's hiding something."
Truer words were never spoken.
Vernon Dursley had not been exactly easy to track down. An impromptu vacation had followed the visit from Dumbledore and Snape, causing Remus and Kingsley to spend several hours tracking them down. This only began to heighten their suspicions. That the man had barely been civil when they knocked on the motel room door is an understatement. He was a down right degenerate. The man looked Remus up and down, taking in the graying hair and haggard appearance, and announced that he had no spare change to give before slamming the door closed. Remus knocked again and called through the thin wood.
"Mr. Dursley, my name is Remus Lupin. I'm here to ask you about your nephew." Hurried whispers reached the wizards' ears before the door was thrown open again and a large mountain of a man launched himself at the thin, pale, former-professor. It's hard to tell whether Dursley would have launched himself on the smaller man had he known a) he was a werewolf, b) two days before a full moon, and that c) werewolves are not happy when large men attack them unprovoked, especially when said werewolf is trying to find the missing son of his best friend and has reason to suspect said large man is the reason the boy is missing.
Seeing Lupin's eyes flash dangerously as the wolf threatened to surface, Kingsley whipped out his wand and leveled it at the great Muggle's chest.
"It's really not a good time of the month to attack him, sir." Dursley looked at him with utter shock, having not even realized there had been another man there.
"You brought a bodyguard too, huh?" Dursley snarled at Lupin, eyeing the bald black wizard.
"Believe me, Dursley," Kingsley answered coolly, "he wasn't the one I was protecting." He motioned toward the door of the motel room with his wand. "Shall we go inside? Or do we question you out here where everyone else can hear?"
"YOU WILL NOT COME IN!"
"All right," Kingsley answered. "I am Kingsley Shacklebolt. I am an Auror for the Ministry. I'm here with Mr. Lupin to question you on the disappearance of your nephew and the charges of assault against that boy."
"Vernon, for God's sakes, let them in." A pale horse-faced woman appeared in the doorway. Lupin could have smelled the fear on her, even if Moony weren't fighting to put an appearance. Dursley's face turned red, but he walked back into the motel room, followed by Kingsley and Remus.
"Not a good time of the month?" Lupin asked softly as they followed him.
"Was I lying?"
"No, but you could have phrased it differently."
"Probably," Kingsley answered with a shrug. "But so long as I didn't have to watch you rip his throat out with your teeth, I don't really care." Lupin sighed and followed the Auror into the room.
The room was fairly small, containing two small beds and a dirty couch. Several suitcases were stacked in the corner under an old television locked on a shelf near the ceiling. The wallpaper, lime green pinstripes, was peeling in places and showed evidence of water damage. The horse-faced woman had sat on the bed farthest from the door and was holding a rather large trembling boy of about Harry's age, though with blonde hair and a piggish face.
"Is there anyone else in the room, Mrs. Dursley?" Remus asked the woman.
"Do I know you?" she replied, eyeing him carefully.
"We've met. I was friends with your sister and her husband in school. Now, is there anyone else here?"
She shook her head as Kingsley checked the bathroom, pulling the door closed and checking the empty wardrobe. Lupin locked the door and pulled the curtains over the window.
"What do you people want?" Dursley demanded. "I told the Headmaster at that school-."
"We know what you told the Headmaster," Lupin assured him. "But we think you know a little more than that."
"Are you calling me a liar?"
"Yes, I am." A murderous look crossed Dursley's eyes, but Lupin ignored it. "Sit down, Mr. Dursley." Dursley took a step forward. Kingsley's wand was already trained on him, but Lupin slid his own out from beneath his robes. "Sit down, Mr. Dursley," he repeated coldly, "or I will see to it you never stand again." Kingsley's eyes slid over to Lupin, but he said nothing as Dursley dropped himself onto the bed nearest the door. Lupin met Kingsley's eyes and nodded.
Kingsley Shacklebolt stared at the normally placid and controlled man for a moment longer as he began to pace the room, seeming more like a caged animal than his bookish academic self. The Auror found himself wondering if Dumbledore had presumed incorrectly when he assigned Lupin to attend to keep everything calm- especially with the full moon so near. But then, the heightened senses might yet be of help. These few seconds had given him time to relax and slip into a mood for interrogation. Calm, precise, calculating.
"How is your Latin, Mr. Dursley?" Kingsley asked as he removed a small vial Snape had given him from his robes. When the large man snorted, Kingsley continued. "This is called Veritaserum. Veritas is Latin for truth. Can you guess what this does?" Dursley made no answer. "Three small drops of this rather potent potion will cause you to answer any questions we pose you truthfully, even against your will. We can ask you about your business dealings, your finances, you infidelities, and you will tell us the absolute truth. We, however, have no interest in those things. All we wish to know about is a certain young man who was placed in your care, but has now vanished." He glanced at Dursley who had paled violently. "You look pale, Mr. Dursley. Surely you have no reason to be nervous, as you've already told us everything you know. Or perhaps not?"
"Get. Out. Of. Here." His voice was low, but trembled with anger. Kingsley smiled, despite himself. Partly, because smiling at this point gave the appearance that he was greatly going to enjoy forcing the serum down his fleshy throat and demanding all his innermost secrets, and partly because he knew he was going to enjoy forcing the serum down his fleshy throat, as the Auror had heard and seen enough to know that Snape was right: this man had done something violent to the boy.
"Mrs. Dursley," Lupin broke in, "why don't you and your son take a walk? Twenty, thirty minutes, perhaps."
"Not without-."
"I really must insist, Mrs. Dursley. Neither you nor your son want to be here for this." He unlocked the door. "Oh, and before I forget-." He waved his wand toward them. "Lumos. If you talk to anyone about what is going on in here, the tip of my wand will extinguish. Remember, your husband is still here with us." He smiled innocently at them as the woman gasped and ushered her son out the door. Lupin locked the door and met Kingsley with an amused smile. He hadn't been a Marauder for all those years without learning a few tricks.
Time to proceed with the plan. It was a simple plan. Feed Dursley the serum and question him on the last night Harry had been in his house. Of course, Dursley did not cooperate. Lupin had to put him in a full body bind so Kingsley could administer the required drops into his throat. The seconds ticked by slowly as the serum took affect. Finally, Dursley, staring glassily ahead, was ready. And then the plan, the simple plan, the calm plan, the non-violent plan, crumbled.
Dursley began recounting the events of the night of Harry's disappearance under the effects of the serum they had forced down his throat. He described in detail how he had beat the boy after he argued with Dudley, the Dursley child. Even Kingsley's (who had seen and heard everything after hunting Dark wizards) skin crawled as the man described in detail how Potter gasped for breath, coughing and sputtering as blood filled his lungs or how his body twisted in the air as he was thrown down the stairs.
The man was so maddeningly calm, an effect of the serum, Kingsley knew, when he pronounced the inevitable truth.
"Where is Harry now?" Lupin had asked.
"He's dead. I wrapped his body in a blanket and drove it out to Cranleigh. It's in a field near the A281."
Kingsley felt as if he had been doused by cold water. This ugly mound of flesh had killed Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. He did what Voldemort could not, in a fit of rage and abuse. He murdered an unarmed boy, for, from what he had heard of the boy, had Potter had his wand, this man could never have overpowered him.
Then Lupin snapped. Had the Auror not been preoccupied with his own disgust at the man before them, he probably could have stopped him. Had he wanted to.
Lupin pitched himself across the room, his fist connecting squarely with Dursley's nose. His great head whipped back against the back of the chair, his nose spouting blood. Lupin had hit him a second time before Kingsley could drag him away.
"Let's go, Remus," he said, his long arms still restraining him around the chest.
"I'm done," Lupin told him, holding up his arms. "I'm done. I won't hit him again."
"You weren't supposed to hit him the first time," Kingsley told him, releasing him and leaning over the bleeding Muggle. He flicked his wand, repairing his crooked nose and cleaning the blood from his face and shirt.
"He's lucky I just hit him," Lupin said, rubbing his throbbing knuckles. "I wanted to hex him into next year." He shook out his hand. "Merlin that hurt! Now I remember why I left the fighting to James and Sirius." He glanced back at Kingsley. "How long until the effect of the serum wears off?"
"He's got some time yet, but we need to get back. Report what we've heard."
"Fine." Lupin answered. "Leave him. When his wife comes back, she can ask him a few questions as well. He'd deserve it. He deserves worse." Lupin and Kingsley disapparated from the room.
Hermione found Ron in the only large tree of the walled garden behind Sirius' house. He was sitting on one of the higher boughs of an apple tree, with one knee pulled up to his chest and the other hanging down, dangling several feet above Hermione's head. She had seen him up there several times since they were told of Harry's disappearance. Hermione was worried. It was unlike Ron to be so distant and quiet. Even when he was mad at her during their third year, he had been much more vocal, even if it wasn't toward her.
She called his name several times, but when he didn't respond, she began the slow trek up through the branches, silently wishing she had been a bit more boyish as a small child. Instead, she had spent more time reading about trees than actually climbing them. By the time she reached him, she had skinned both knees, all the knuckles on her left hand, cut the palm of her right, and had a hairful of twigs and leaves. She thought of none of this as she plopped herself down on a neighboring branch, careful not to fall out of the tree she had spent so much time climbing.
"You found me," he said, almost too softly for her to hear.
"It wasn't too hard," she answered. "I could see your hair as soon as I came outside."
He forced a smile that plainly told her he was in no mood to laugh. Hermione sighed and looked out over the landscape Ron had been staring at. She could easily see into the windows of the second story, were they not so far from the house itself. The garden below was wild and unkempt. Ordered patches of herbs and other useful flora had long been strangled into nonexistence by weeds and long grass. It was all nicely green, but rather too chaotic to be a decent wizarding garden.
"This is very peaceful," she told him.
"Yeah. I found it yesterday when I needed a quiet place to think."
"You think?" she asked curiously, hoping to get some kind of reaction. Instead, she received another weak smile. "Oh, come on Ron! I'm trying really hard here! The least you could do is make your smiles a little less forced!" When he didn't answer, she sighed and turned toward him clumsily, nearly falling out of the tree until his hand shot out sideways and grabbed her arm, steadying her on her perch.
"'Mione, maybe you shouldn't be up here," he said, eyeing her position carefully. "You could break your neck if you fall."
"Ron, I'm up here because you've been up here all day. I'm worried about Harry too, but sulking up in this tree isn't going to accomplish anything. Besides, I thought- I thought maybe we could do something fun together to take our minds off other things."
"I'm not in the mood to do homework."
"I'm not talking about homework. I thought maybe you could help me with my flying."
"You hate flying," he said, eyeing her cautiously. "Besides, I'm not sure we'd be allowed, being in a Muggle neighborhood and all."
"Well, I'm not very good at it. I thought maybe if I were better-." She waved a dismissive hand, teetering on the branch. "Besides, I asked Sirius, and he said so long as we don't go over the height of the house, we shouldn't be seen outside the protective barriers."
"You're serious?"
"Yeah." If Mrs. Weasley had managed to raise six boys like she did, she probably knew something about setting broken bones and treating concussions. "Help me with my flying."
"Alright." An actual grin broke out on Ron's face, the first she'd seen since early the previous day, making the whole trip up the tree worth it. He quickly scrambled down the tree, followed much more slowly by Hermione, who he helped from the lowest branches. "Come on. I'm sure you can use Ginny's broom." They turned and raced toward the house.
Lupin made his way up the narrow staircase of Number 12 Grimmauld Place and stopped outside the closed door of the highest room. It was the bedroom of Sirius' late mother, and now the coop for Buckbeak, the hippogriff. Remus knew he'd find Sirius there without having to ask Mrs. Weasley, who waved her hand toward the staircase when he said he would fetch his friend.
Without knocking, Remus pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room, his attention drawn first to Buckbeak, stepping about nervously at his entrance, then to the dark shape shifting suddenly to the right.
"You're back." A simple statement.
"I am."
"Did you find him?" Sirius stepped away from the wall, seeming decidedly unsteady on his feet, but gaining his equilibrium quickly. Unshaven stubble shadowed his jaw and cheeks, and a faint odor told Remus his friend had not showered that day.
"Come downstairs, Sirius. We'll explain what we learned to everyone at once." He turned so Sirius would follow him, but the other made no movement.
"Something's wrong. What is it, Remus?" When his friend did not answer, Sirius grabbed his arm. "Damn it, Remus, tell me! Where's Harry? Where's my godson?"
Pulling his arm from the restraining grip, Remus frowned at his best friend, but that faded at the grief and worry that had settled in Sirius' countenance.
"Come downstairs, Sirius. You will hear everything, I promise."
"What did you do to your hand?" he asked, eyeing Remus' bleeding knuckles.
"I thanked Mr. Dursley for his time."
Sirius raised an eyebrow, his mouth twisted in a half-hearted smirk.
"You hit him? I'm proud of you-."
"Don't be," Remus cut him off. "I'm not."
Ron and Hermione were surprised to see that Ginny was looking for them. She stood on the landing motioning for them to come into her room where they found the twins awaiting them as well.
"What's going on?" Ron asked, looking at his siblings.
"Lupin and Shacklebolt are back," George informed them from his cross-legged position on Ginny's bed. "Lupin went to find Sirius, and we think Shacklebolt is contacting the rest of the order."
"We're waiting for the meeting to start," Fred continued. "Mum's been prowling, so we figured it would be best if she couldn't find us to assign more cleaning."
"Did you see them when they came back?" Hermione asked. "Did they look hopeful?"
"We couldn't really tell-." She broke off as two sets of steps made their way down the stairs. "Lupin and Sirius," she whispered.
"Ginny, go ask mum to braid your hair."
"What? Why?"
George rolled his eyes.
"Just ask her, and take a look around all innocently and see what's going on. Find out if everyone's here yet. She won't suspect you of spying."
"Oh. Okay!" She jumped up and they heard her bounding down the stairs stop abruptly. Then, her footsteps returned, accompanied by another well-recognized set. The door opened in came Ginny and Mrs. Weasley.
"Stay in here, Ginny," she was saying. "We're trying to have a very important meeting downstairs. I'll braid your hair later tonight, but not now."
"Mum," Ron said, his face slightly pale, "Did they find Harry?"
"I don't know yet, Ron. The meeting is just beginning, but I know we will keep looking until we find him." She was silent for a moment, then swept forward and embraced her youngest son. "Don't worry, Ron. The Order won't let Harry stay missing for long." She released him and addressed the rest of her brood. "Stay up here and out of the way. You can help us best by not being underfoot right now."
"What if they don't find him?" Hermione asked, drawing an annoyed look from the twins who desperately wanted their mother to join the meeting and leave them to their spying.
"We'll find him, Hermione," she told her. "We'll find Harry." She smiled reassuringly, reminded them to stay upstairs, and retreated to the meeting. The five counted to a hundred before sneaking out on the landing with their Extendable Ears.
"- under Veritaserum. His descriptions were disturbing to say the least." It was Kingsley Shacklebolt speaking. "Apparently, the morning began with an argument between Potter and Mr. Dursley's son, Dudley. Mr. Dursley stepped in and hit Harry repeatedly, then dragged him upstairs. He threatened to choke Potter, but was unnerved by his calm. They had words that ended in Dursley severely beating the boy."
"Words that ended in-." It was Sirius, and he seemed unable to finish the statement. "What words-."
"Calm down, Sirius," Lupin told him. He sounded worried and angry at the same time.
"How severely?" Sirius demanded.
"Severely," Shacklebolt answered. "Hit him, kicked him, stomped on him. Specifically, he said he stomped on his hand to break it. Didn't want him using magic. However, Harry was conscious, even able to stand, although, from the description we received, he was hurt pretty badly."
Apparently, Sirius tried to interrupt again, because Dumbledore spoke up.
"Please, let us hear out all the information first. I have a feeling we have not heard the worst of what is to come." There was a moment's silence.
"You haven't," Lupin said. "Harry was able to stand, even take a step or two. At this point- at this point, Dursley grabbed him, telling him he no longer wanted him in his house and threw him down the stairs."
There was a collective gasp, and an audible sob from Mrs. Weasley.
Shocked, Hermione ventured a glance at Ron. His skin was now completely white, his eyes wide and unfocused as he stared ahead, holding the flesh colored tube of the Extendable Ear to his own ear. George caught his sister's trembling hand as the room downstairs became silent again, as if everyone needed to hear what was next, but neither Shacklebolt nor Lupin wanted to speak.
"Please, continue," Dumbledore said.
"Harry hit the steps near the bottom, and when he came to a rest, he wasn't moving." Their former DADA professor, who always seemed as calm as Snape, though a hundred times nicer, was far from calm. His voice was tight and breaking as he pronounced the final words. "He's dead. Vernon Dursley killed Harry Potter."
Silence settled over the entire house. Then, there was a commotion downstairs. Mrs. Weasley was sobbing. Someone yelled Sirius' name, chairs scraped across the floor, and directions were shouted. The spies on the landing, however, heard none of this. Their eyes were focused on each other, and mostly on Ron, whose breathing was rapid and shallow. He seemed unable to stand without supporting himself on the banister. His light brown eyes stared, as if in an unseeing daze, his lips slightly parted.
"Ron," Hermione said softly, laying her hand on his shoulder. She herself felt weak from this unexpected news, but Ron, Ron looked positively ill.
He flinched at her touch, awoken from a trance, and stared at her as if he had never seen her before in his life. Drunkenly, he shrugged her hand away, staggering backwards until his feet met the steps. Without a word, he fled, taking long, frenzied strides that engulfed several steps at once, and disappeared into his room.
The others were too shocked by the news and Ron's reaction to realize that the door downstairs had opened, until Ginny's Extendable Ear was yanked from her grasp, and Mrs. Weasley's shaking, but very angry voice bellowed up the staircase, "FRED! GEORGE! GET DOWN HERE!"
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Wow, I felt like that just took me forever. I'm sorry if anyone seems ooc here. I was trying hard. I know I have Lupin hitting Dursley, and I debated that for a long time, but in the end, I had to have it there. I honestly don't think anyone can listen to the murder of a young man, and not feel violent toward the offender, especially when the boy is the son of his best friend. I needed someone to hit him, and as Sirius couldn't do it, Lupin had. I don't know if I made this clear, but Lupin hinted that it was a conscious decision to hit him with his fist, because if he'd have used his wand, well, Dursley would not have been left in any kind of decent shape.
Plus, I really don't think Lupin and Snape are all that different at the core (deeper than personality), especially after the 5th book. I thought it would be interesting to have similar reactions toward Dursley.
PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME AFTER THIS CHAPTER!!! I PROMISE IT WILL BE WORTH YOUR WHILE!!! DON'T FORGET, WE HAVEN'T SEEN VOLDEMORT, BEEN TO SCHOOL, SEEN THE DURSLEY'S PUNISHED, OR FOUND HARRY'S BODY. I STILL HAVE LOTS TO WRITE!!!!