Disclaimer: Sigh HP: Still not mine.
Chapter 22
Percy sat on the edge of the cot, watching as Harry fitfully slept. The Aurors had brought him in nearly two hours ago, and although they claimed he'd been hit by the stunning spell only once, Percy was beginning to suspect it had been more than that.
As the Aurors had debriefed Minister Fudge in his office, Percy had eavesdropped with a sinking heart. Things had not gone well. His mother and siblings had been stunned, possibly injured in the raid. Percy sat, feeling his stomach burn and clench with stress and ran a weary hand through his red hair. This was not what was supposed to have happened. They were just supposed to take Harry in for *questioning*, not interrogation. But now he was in a holding cell sitting with Harry, wondering if what he'd done had been right, knowing it had felt right at the time.
He'd never meant for them to raid the Burrow; just go and bring Harry in for questioning. Percy looked at the pale and exhausted boy before him and wished he hadn't had to sign the papers… but he had. There were too many unanswered questions, and as much as he loved his family, Harry was too evasive and well guarded by the rest of the Weasleys for Percy to have a candid conversation. And people's lives could possibly be on the line.
Harry stirred, and opened his eyes in confusion. Percy automatically handed him his glasses, and watched with a sinking heart as Harry struggled to loop the legs of his glasses over his ears despite his trembling hands. With a start, Percy realized Harry's lips were blue.
"Percy?" Harry asked with a raspy voice. Percy nodded his head.
"Harry, are you cold?" he asked. Harry nodded and shrugged.
"I'm always cold," Harry replied. Percy
stood from his cot and looked around the holding cell. He hadn't understood why the Minister had
insisted Harry be kept there like a criminal.
After all, it was under the Minister's reassurances that Percy had gone
along with this at all.
"We just need to question the boy, Percy. That's all. Dumbledore's got his hand in everything, and honestly I need to trust Harry's answers before I can let him be. There are too many unanswered issues surrounding Diggory's death… and now you tell me Harry's response to the Daily Prophet article… " Minister Fudge had said. Percy sighed as he went to the cell door and knocked.
"Yes?" The guard asked on the other side.
"Harry needs some blankets," Percy said, then turned and looked over his shoulder at the sickly boy who was now struggling to sit up. "How do you feel, Harry? Do you want anything else?" Percy asked, smiling to try to reassure him.
"Some water would be nice, thank you," Harry replied politely. Formally. Percy frowned as he relayed the message and returned to Harry's bedside. His black, tousled hair clung to his forehead wetly.
"Are you scared?" Percy asked, intending to try to calm his fears. Harry seemed remarkably composed, despite his tremors. The only outward sign of fear that Percy had noted was Harry's jumpiness at every little sound. His eyes would widen and he would clench his fists. Otherwise, Harry's face remained relatively impassive. It's odd to think a fifteen year old boy can behave like this, Percy thought. He of all people *knew* what fifteen year old boys acted like. He'd had an abundant amount of experience with his brothers, and of all the adolescent behavior he'd prepared himself for… this isn't it.
"Yes," Harry replied, staring at Percy intently. Percy flinched under the gaze. "Why are you here, Percy?" Harry asked frankly. Percy started. Oddly, there wasn't really accusation in the question, just curiosity.
"I'm here to try to make you feel more comfortable," Percy replied, surprised. "Of course I would be here."
"But you're *why* I'm here, right?" Harry asked, his eyes solemn. Percy frowned as he looked intently at the boy. This was an odd conversation indeed. Harry had certainly pieced together quite a bit already.
"That's right. I'm why you're here. But it's only to ask some questions I know you don't want to answer," Percy said. "I'm sorry I have to push it, but we *have* to know. There are strange things afoot, and I've got a feeling you know more about it than you realize. *And we need to know, too, Harry,*" Percy said, emphasizing his words as he reached out to pat Harry's hand. Harry didn't move, and his face remained thoughtful. His hands were like ice. Percy frowned at the tremors that ran through Harry's body.
"What *is* wrong with you? Have they figured that out yet?" Percy asked bluntly. Harry shrugged, turning his eyes away.
"They're still working on it," Harry replied, then jumped as the door to the cell opened. Percy quickly took the blanket and pitcher of water from the guard and nodded gratefully as he closed the door.
"It's okay, Harry. See, they even brought blankets. That's not so bad, is it?" Percy asked as he approached the cot. Harry didn't look up.
"Then why is there a guard outside my door? I *am* a prisoner, right?" Harry asked softly. Percy sighed and sat the pitcher on the floor. The only furniture in the room was the cot. There was no nightstand for the water, so Percy was forced to set it at his feet.
Taking both ends of the blanket in his hands, Percy whipped it over Harry's bed and let it drift onto the cot, reaching over Harry to insure he was covered completely. It reminded him of his time as Prefect at Hogwarts, and of Harry when he'd first arrived, so lost and timid, yet stubborn and trying to be brave at the same time. Abruptly, Percy placed a hand against Harry's face. Harry flinched slightly, but did not pull away. He was ice cold. Percy tucked the blanket snugly around the boy. Perhaps what you *really* need is to be at St. Mungo's.
"Sort of," Percy replied to Harry's question, trying to find the right words. "This is as much for your protection as ours. The Ministry certainly doesn't want to draw attention to the fact that we've brought you in, and I know *you* would hate for the Daily Prophet to get wind of this," Percy explained, trying to reason with Harry. Harry looked at Percy thoughtfully.
"This isn't a waiting room, is it?" Harry asked. Percy sighed and closed his eyes.
"No. It's not," Percy replied.
"Then what is it?" Harry asked, although his eyes said he already knew the answer. In truth, he was beginning to give Percy the heebie-jeebies.
"It's a holding cell," Percy answered reluctantly.
"For criminals?" Harry asked. Percy nodded.
"Am I a criminal?" Harry asked Percy.
"No, Harry. You're not a criminal. But you've got to answer some questions," Percy persisted. He looked around the room in discomfort. He wished the Ministry had gone to a little bit of trouble to make the place less… prison like. Even a small nightstand and a chair would have helped.
"Do you think I've done something bad, Percy?" Harry asked quietly. His face held no expectations. It was as if Harry had simply asked about the weather.
"No, Harry, I don't," Percy replied. And in truth, he didn't. Harry just had a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and his unwelcome celebrity placed him in situations others weren't privy to.
"Do you believe me when I say that Voldemort's returned?" Harry asked. Percy flinched at Harry's blatant use of the name.
"Crikey, Harry, why do you have to say the name? It's You Know Who!" Percy said in discomfort.
"You didn't answer the question," Harry replied softly. Percy froze. No… he didn't believe that You Know Who had returned. He had no doubt that Harry had witnessed something horrible when Cedric Diggory was killed… but he didn't believe it was *him*. Perhaps some loyal followers, but not *him*.
"I think you *believe* he's returned, Harry. I'm just not sure if he really did," Percy replied, trying to be honest while still not insulting him.
Percy leaned over and poured some water into a small glass from the pitcher beside his feet then raised up and handed it to Harry. Harry tentatively took the glass in both hands and Percy watched as water sloshed over from all sides, dampening the blanket he'd rested over his legs and torso. Harry tentatively raised the cup to his lips, his eyes squinting in concentration as he struggled to hold his hands still. Half the water didn't even make it to his mouth, and Percy watched the boy in front of him with mounting horror. What the bloody hell was wrong with him, and why wasn't he at St. Mungo's?
"Here, I can help…" Percy offered, reaching out to take hold of the glass. Harry pushed it into Percy's hands and turned his face away, blushing fiercely. He dabbed the edge of the blanket against his wet face and chest and sighed.
"No, thank you," Harry replied, leaning away from Percy, refusing to let him help Harry to take a drink. Percy leaned forward, concerned. After all, he'd said he was thirsty, and he certainly looked like he needed the water. Harry struggled to scoot further away from Percy, raising his one hand in a trembling physical manifestation of refusal. "Please, I'm not all that thirsty anyway," Harry insisted. Percy hesitated, recognizing the look of shame on Harry's face. He's embarrassed. Percy nodded, and set the glass back at his feet.
"Harry…" Percy began. Harry stopped him with a look.
"Percy, who do you work for?" Harry asked abruptly. Percy frowned. Is Harry still a bit… wrong from the stunning spells?
"The Ministry of Magic of course…" Percy replied. Harry shook his head.
"No… I mean… Do you know about them?" Harry asked, his eyes searching Percy's intently. "Are you a part of it?" Harry asked.
"A part of what?" Percy asked, confused.
"Do you know what's been happening?" Harry asked again. Percy nodded.
"Of course I do. Wizards and witches have been disappearing at an alarming rate…" Percy began. Harry shook his head impatiently.
"Percy… What would it take for you to believe me when I tell you Voldemort's returned?" Harry asked. He'd begun to speak more clearly. Percy wondered if he was beginning to feel a little better. Harry's eyes seemed unnaturally bright and intense.
"Please, don't…" Percy began. Harry interrupted.
"Yes, yes," Harry nearly rolled his eyes in annoyance at Percy's protest of using the word 'Voldemort'. "What would it take for you to believe me?" Harry asked. Percy frowned. "You didn't believe me at the Burrow. What more will you learn here that you couldn't there?" Harry asked. In truth, Percy had just wanted the chance to ask his questions freely, without interruptions and without scrutiny.
"I just…" Percy began. Harry shook his head.
"If I took Veritaserum, would you believe me?" Harry asked. Percy was shocked.
"No! Harry, no one's going to give you Veritaserum. You're too young, and you're not in good health," Percy said, appalled. Harry looked at Percy and his eyes seemed very old. Percy stopped speaking. What are you getting at, Harry?
"Are you sure?" Harry asked. He certainly didn't sound sure himself. Percy nodded. Excellent. Now I can begin to try to allay Harry's fears.
"That's why I'm here. No one's going to give you Veritaserum. This won't be an interrogation. I'll be with you the entire time. I promise," Percy said. Harry looked at Percy with a haunted expression.
"You promise?" Harry asked, his voice nearly a whisper. "And can you keep that promise?" Percy nodded his head vigorously.
"That's why I'm here," Percy replied. Harry looked at him intently. Voices sounded outside their door, and with the speed of a snitch Harry's hand streaked out, trapping Percy's hand in his own. Harry's grip was surprisingly strong. Crikey!
"Percy… Promise me something," Harry asked, his voice desperate. Percy nodded, his eyes sliding to the door in distraction. It seemed the Minister was coming.
"Okay, Harry. What?" Percy asked, patting Harry's hand, then working to disentangle himself so he could greet the Minister at the door.
"Promise me you'll make sure they find out the truth. Will you do that? No matter what happens, can you make sure they find out the truth?" Harry asked again, his voice nearly begging.
"Certainly, Harry. That's what we're all here for, isn't it?" Percy said, finally disengaging Harry's hand from his own. He'd left red marks on Percy's forearm. Percy was getting quite uncomfortable with this exchange. What sort of nonsense has the rest of his family pumped in the boy? Harry was clearly terrified something bad was about to happen.
"Remember. You've promised," Harry said solemnly, but Percy had already turned away to greet the Minister at the door.
**********************************************************************************
Minister Fudge stepped into the holding cell, his eyes searching for the boy eagerly. They landed on Percy Weasley first, who'd evidently been sitting on the edge of his cot talking to the boy. Percy Weasley approached Cornelius, who frowned in disapproval. In truth, the Weasley boy annoyed him. He was far too prissy and do-gooder for Cornelius' tastes. He clearly had an idealized notion of what *right* really was. Perhaps he'll learn in time… If he survives the upcoming storm.
Percy Weasley's eyes widened at the entourage of people that followed at Cornelius' heels, and his mouth dropped open at the sight of the chair that two Aurors carried with them. Cornelius sighed. As meticulous as the Weasley boy is, he certainly isn't adept at reading between the lines, is he? Cornelius thought in annoyance. Ah well. That's why *he* is doing what he's doing. Who else did he think I requested the chair for? Percy had signed the papers for it.
"Minister Fudge, I thought you said…" Percy began. Cornelius raised his hand to silence him.
"Relax, Mr. Weasley. This is necessary to be able to weed truth from fiction. I've brought a trusted colleague, Dr. Happensdam from St. Mungo's, who will be here to monitor the administration of Veritaserum and its affects on young Mr. Potter here," Cornelius said, putting on his most reassuring smile for both occupants.
"Sir, you said…" Percy tried to interrupt again. Cornelius glared at him.
"Mr. Weasley, are you questioning my judgment in this matter?" he asked Percy dangerously.
"No sir, but I am suggesting it's not a decision you…" Percy tried to say.
"Mr. Weasley, is it?" Dr. Happensdam interrupted. Percy turned to look at him. Cornelius took the opportunity to take a close look at the Boy Who Lived. He currently was watching as the Aurors set up the Interrogation Chair in the center of the room.
The Interrogation Chair was a bland, innocuous wooden chair with metal bands at the head, neck, wrists and ankles. Cornelius had once been told it looked similar to the electric chair American muggles use to execute their criminals. Cornelius wondered if Harry Potter would recognize it as that. It seems he does, Cornelius thought in satisfaction. Fear makes for a powerful motivator. The boy's face was nearly chalk white as he watched the proceedings, his eyes darting from the chair to Percy and sneaking glances at Cornelius. That's right, Harry. Now Dumbledore's duplicity will be revealed, Cornelius thought as he watched the boy. He suppressed a shiver as Harry's eyes appeared to widen in fright. As if he'd heard Cornelius' thoughts. But that can't be, can it? Cornelius' eyes narrowed as he watched the boy closely. Several guards placed six simple chairs facing the Interrogation Chair before retreating.
"Yes?" Percy replied to the doctor, frowning. "What exactly are you a doctor of?" Percy asked, his voice edgy. He was already beginning to get suspicious of the doctor. Cornelius sighed. Why must everyone insist on doing things the hard way?
"It's done, sir," Adams said, putting the finishing touches on the chair. Cornelius nodded his head at the Auror and smiled gratefully.
"Thank you. Shall we begin?" Cornelius asked to the men around him.
"Actually, my specialty is in Enchanted Animals and Toxins," Dr. Happensdam replied. Percy's mouth dropped open in shock. Cornelius sighed, wanting to slap his palm against his forehead. So much for that ruse.
"Then how will you be able to…" Percy began, not noticing Cornelius' look at the two Aurors behind him. With his eyes, he directed them to Percy. They nodded, and quickly took Percy by the elbow.
"He'll be just fine, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps you should just sit tight for now. It will all turn out right in the end," Cornelius said as Adams pressed Percy against the wall and muttered a binding spell, pinning him there. Then Aurors then turned to Harry, who'd automatically tried to scoot back further on the cot although he'd long ago run out of room, his eyes wide in surprise at what they'd done to Percy.
"Don't worry, my boy. You'll be just fine. Just tell me what you know…" Cornelius said reassuringly as they placed The Boy Who Lived in the Interrogation Chair. Of its own accord, the chair grew straps which it quickly wrapped around Harry's arms, legs, neck and head, effectively pinning him in place even as Adams snapped the metal bands shut. Harry's face was rigid with tension, but still he struggled to maintain some semblance of calm. The boy was a bit freakish, really. Cornelius glanced at a man who'd remained in the far corner of the room since he'd arrived, a small table floating behind him. Cornelius cleared his throat in annoyance.
"It's alright, Lane. The boy's just frightened, but we're all here for the same reason," Cornelius said reassuringly. The Quill Recorder hesitantly stepped forward, his eyes darting from Percy to Harry. He truthfully looked like a child himself, although his reputation was impeccable. Once his seal of approval was on a scroll, no one questioned its integrity. He's perfect for this job.
"Sir, if you're going to have a doctor here, why not get a doctor who's…" Percy asked, his face frantic. Cornelius sighed again, feeling the weight of his position on his shoulders. They just refuse to understand… All of them.
"Dr. Happensdam is perfectly qualified to monitor this administration," Cornelius replied. "Lane, please, set up your spells. Let's get this over with. Clearly the boy isn't well," he encouraged the timid man. Lane stepped forward reluctantly, and directed the table to sit beside the Interrogation Chair. With his wand, he set up the quill and parchment, and began to place the anti-tampering spells that would insure his recordings could not be interfered with. Cornelius waited until the man appeared done. He didn't bothering to listen to all the spells that had been placed for recording purposes; the man was a professional after all, but he did seem to carry on for some time, before finally finishing, prepared to begin. He nodded at Cornelius once. Lane then turned his eyes to Harry. Cornelius sighed at the pity he read in Lane's eyes. One more to deal with, he could already tell.
"Sir, I would like to lodge a formal protest. I thought…" Percy interjected yet again. Harry turned his eyes to Percy, and an entreaty for him to be quiet was clear. Cornelius smiled, although his patience was running thin. The Boy Who Lived has it right. He could certainly teach the overly confident Mr. Weasley a thing or two.
"You thought wrong, Mr. Weasley. This is regarding the safety of the wizarding world. Do you think I wanted him here just to ask questions and judge for myself whether I thought the boy was lying or not? Please. He's already proved an adept liar. No… There's only one way for me to know whether or not the boy is telling the truth. Now please don't make me cast a silencing spell on you. I had hoped you would aid me in questioning him," Cornelius said. Percy shut his mouth, but a muscle on the side of his jaw twitched animatedly. "Thank you," Cornelius said and nodded to the doctor.
"Now, Mr. Potter, this isn't going to taste pleasant…" Dr. Happensdam began. The Interrogation Chair already knew what to do next. Straps snaked out from the back of the chair and wound around Harry's lower jaw. As they constricted, Harry's mouth was pried open. With a tear dropper, Dr. Happensdam dipped into a vial he'd pulled from his robe pocket. Squeezing it full, he placed a single drop of the fluid on Harry's tongue. Harry began to shudder as the Veritaserum took control. Cornelius glanced at the doctor.
"Only one drop? Are you sure he will be telling the truth?" Cornelius asked. Dr. Happensdam shrugged.
"It says three drops for adults. Considering the boy's size, this should be plenty," the doctor replied. Cornelius frowned.
"Then you don't know for sure?" Cornelius pressed.
"Minister…" Happensdam said dryly. Cornelius scowled at his colleague's tone. "As you well know this is not my area of expertise …" Dr. Happensdam replied, annoyance evident on his face. Cornelius suppressed an angry growl. This was not an acceptable answer. It took me far too long to get a hold of the boy. He was going to make damned sure the answers he got he could guarantee were true. Because it was likely he wasn't going to get a second shot at it.
"It's okay, Harry. I'm right here. You're not alone," Percy called, and Cornelius rolled his eyes in annoyance at the melodrama, finally casting a silencing charm on the annoying boy.
"Doctor… Give him an adult dosage," Cornelius instructed. In truth, he wasn't sympathetic to The Boy Who Lived. So he's lost his parents. So had Cornelius. You don't see anyone giving *me* a parade at the tragedy, do you? The boy had already proven himself a headache for the Ministry, what with all the additional wards and spells they had been forced to keep in place to protect the boy until recently. He'd proven far more effort that Cornelius felt he was worth, and he *certainly* didn't appreciate the squeamishness of those around him when it came to what he'd decided needed to be done.
Lane shot Cornelius a distressed look, but said nothing. Percy Weasley, pinned against the wall, was struggling against his bindings admirably. "Mr. Weasley, do you want me to have to stun you?" Cornelius asked impatiently. Percy froze, then shook his head hesitantly.
There was no need to trap Harry's jaw now. "Harry, open your mouth," Dr. Happensdam instructed. Under the Veritaserum, Harry obediently did so, his eyes glazed. The doctor placed two more drops on Harry's tongue and waited a few moments for it to take effect.
"Now, Mr. Potter…." Cornelius said eagerly, settling himself in the chair right in front of Harry. "Are you responsible for Cedric Diggory's death?"
*********************************************************************************************
Harry's mind screamed in pain as the potion flowed through his veins. Fire, burning acid… Harry felt his body spasm and begin to convulse against the bindings, effectively choking himself and straining muscles and tendons against the ever constricting bindings of the chair.
"…hold him…" A voice somewhere in the distance called. Harry couldn't think, he could only feel, and his body no longer felt like his own. He'd hoped the Veritaserum would be more like an exaggerated version of the Imperius Curse. That the 'letting go' sensation would happen, and that would be that.
They'd warned him of the side effects, but Harry had made up his mind, and it was too late now. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he choked against the straps, his head rattling against the wood of the chair and his hands scratching claw marks into its arms.
Sirius, Harry's mind cried, for this is what he held to. This was who he'd done this for. He was dying, he knew it, and if *this*… the truth about Sirius, could be revealed, then it would all be worth it. But Harry couldn't help it. Through all the pain the potion burned into his skin, all Harry could think about was how he wished he were still with Sirius and Remus at the Burrow, and how he wished this hadn't have happened.
More straps snaked around Harry's body, effectively beginning to immobilize him completely. When eventually Harry's body stilled, Fudge leaned forward and asked again…
"Are you responsible for Cedric Diggory's death?" Fudge asked, his voice unphased by Harry's convulsions.
"Yes," Harry replied. Percy looked shocked.
"How?" Fudge asked, his eyes alight with anticipation. As Harry began to explain all that had happened during the Third Task with a monotonous voice, Fudge's expression darkened and grew angrier and more frustrated until finally he smacked Harry across the face. "Liar!" Fudge said, enraged. Harry watched, an idle spectator in his own mind, as Fudge grew so angry that his face turned bright red, and when he spoke spittle spattered Harry's face.
"No," Harry's distant voice disagreed. Dr. Happensdam came behind him.
"Cornelius… He's telling the truth," Dr. Happensdam said.
"No. Give him more of the Veritaserum. He's fighting it. Look at the seizures he had. It's all a sign that he's fighting it. He's the Boy Who Lived. Of course he can fight the Veritaserum. What was I thinking?" Fudge said, enraged.
"No, I won't," the doctor replied. Harry noted Percy's expression. His face was wet with tears, and he still tried to struggle discretely against the binding spell. Harry watched as Percy locked eyes with the man called Lane. Fudge and the doctor were arguing over what to do next and didn't notice the exchange between the two men. Percy slid his eyes to the quill still rapidly taking down each word that was uttered, then nodded to Lane. Lane nodded once, briefly. Harry felt too tired to speculate, and in truth he seemed to be beginning to numb up, as if he could no longer feel his limbs.
Evidently some sort of resolution was come to, for Fudge returned his attention to Harry. "So tell me, Harry. What do you know about the wizarding disappearances that have been occurring lately?" Fudge asked.
Harry began to recount his dreams, wishing he could find a way to swallow his tongue or otherwise refuse to continue to talk. Harry explained, still in a toneless voice, of his shared visions with Voldemort. The nightmares flashed before his eyes as he relived each and every one, specifying details. The look on Fudge's face was that of the proverbial cat who'd swallowed the canary.
When Harry had finally finished, the room was stunned silent. Even the Aurors in the background, obviously loyal to Fudge, were shocked. Fudge, however, stood up quickly and walked to the cell door, knocking once. The guard outside opened the door, and Fudge stepped out into the hallway for a moment before returning inside. He was whistling cheerfully.
Nausea made Harry begin to feel ready to vomit, and the tight strap against his neck certainly wasn't helping his gag reflex. Harry's body began to shudder again and he tried to blink the sweat that dripped into his eyes. After a few moments, more footsteps echoed outside the door. The guard opened it up, and Harry watched in horror as Anne from his dreams stepped inside the room, blinking in bewilderment. Fudge strode over to the little girl, resting a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.
"Thank you for coming, Anne. I've got someone I want to see if you recognize. Can you do that for me? Can you tell me if you know this person?" Fudge positively oozed calmness and confidence. Anne looked around the room and her eyes widened in horror at the sight of Harry in the chair. Harry felt like screaming in rage inside. How can you do this?! She's just a child? At least take the straps off me first, can't you see you're terrifying her?!
"Ghost!" the little girl exclaimed and ran towards the chair. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at Harry, her little hand trying to wrap itself under Harry's trapped fingers. She frowned at the blood on his fingertips.
"Anne, have you seen this boy before?" Fudge asked the little girl. She nodded, her pigtails bouncing innocently as her eyes searched Harry's.
"What's going on, Ghost?" she asked quietly. Harry was touched by the nickname she'd given him. Under the Veritaserum, he was compelled to answer, much to his horror.
"They're interrogating me," Harry replied. She blinked in shock.
"Why?" she asked.
"They want to blame me for your family's death," Harry replied even as Fudge stepped forward, pulling the girl away from Harry.
"That's not true! He saved my life! He was a ghost, but he still helped me, and you're hurting him!" Anne cried as Fudge forcefully pulled her away from Harry, nearly lifting her as he steered her towards the door.
"Yes, but did he save your family?" Fudge asked smoothly. Harry felt shame writhe in his stomach. He hadn't been able to spare her the pain he himself had had to endure. He felt horrible now for how pleased he'd felt to have saved her. He should have been able to do more. He should have been able to save her parents, too.
"He couldn't," Anne replied, and somewhere in the back of Harry's mind a sob of relief stole over him. She didn't blame him for her family's death. She doesn't blame me.
He was so relieved that he didn't notice Anne was gone after protesting loudly about Harry's innocence until Fudge had returned to crouch in front of Harry, a feral smile on his lips. Only Harry seemed to notice the whispered words Lane uttered, and the scroll that abruptly appeared in Percy's hand, which he quickly shoved up his robe sleeve with his fingertips. The rest of the men in the cell had their eyes trained on Harry, and he knew what was coming next.
"Harry Potter, by the powers vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, I hereby charge you as an accomplice in the recent disappearances of certain wizards and witches within our community, as validated by an eyewitness and testimony under Veritaserum and by order made by the Ministry of Magic under section 58(7) and (8) of the Wizarding Criminal Procedure and Investigations Act of 1996. You are to be held without bail in Azkaban until such time as a court date can be set for your arraignment before the Ministry," Fudge said triumphantly. Harry felt his nausea finally begin to overwhelm him, and watched in horror as Fudge walked up to Percy and placed his wand against Percy's temple.
"Oblivate," Fudge said, even as the doctor did the same to Lane.
Harry had done his best. He'd tried to help, and failed Sirius. That moment of defeat was the most profound Harry had ever felt. So many things he'd tried to do over his lifetime, and failed. He had failed Cedric, he'd failed Sirius, and he'd failed Dumbledore. His blood had raised Voldemort.
Harry had wanted so desperately to try to help, and it had all just been a waste. I would have been better off handing myself over to Voldemort. At least it would be quicker. He'd so badly wanted to be able to live with Sirius, as they'd discussed so long ago. Harry knew in his heart that it could never be. He just wasn't wired to be happy. Good things just didn't happen to him very often. Hogwarts and the discovery that he was a wizard had meant so much to him, but the home he treasured in Hogwarts Harry understood would only be temporary. He'd graduate, and move on.
The home Sirius had promised was permanent, and would exist no matter how old Harry was. The home Harry had wanted to give Sirius was one where his godfather could walk the streets in peace, enjoy holidays and pubs, travel Diagon Alley with Harry before school terms, shopping companionably. He'd wanted to give Sirius some measure of peace, where he wouldn't always be a wanted man and could begin to try to heal from all he'd endured.
Harry felt tears flow freely down his face and realized that he'd long ago stopped caring what happened to himself, but that he cared very deeply what happened to Sirius, Remus, the Weasleys, Dumbledore, his friends... And now there was no longer anything he could do for them. Harry's eyes closed in defeat as the Veritaserum finally began to completely overwhelm him, and he heard nothing more.
TBC…
Colleen: I'm so glad you like it! Yes, Harry's such a beautiful character to write. He's so sad and yet still so hopeful. He's not really bitter about his childhood, even though it still causes him pain. It's more about loneliness. Yep, I really wanted to characterize Dumbledore as more than either with or without a twinkle in his eye. He's so much more than that. He's a lot like Snape… it's all internal, and if we didn't hear it from *his* thoughts, it's likely we never will. I'm not sure if I'll have the courage to give his POV. It's better to witness him from the outside.
Balizabeth: Thank you very much. I absolutely agree with you. I also like your thoughts on writing. Thanks for the kind compliment about Lupin and Snape. I've found that Lupin is actually a little more difficult to write than Snape. Lupin is really easy to slip into 'teacher' mode, so to keep him fleshed out without making him martyrish is hard to do. After all, he's gone through so much, and continues to do so. He's a strong character with a lot of regrets. I adore him.
Kate the Great: You got me there. Here's a cupie doll, because I'm busted. Sorry about that. I do intend at the end of posting this story to go back and correct all these little things I missed. Please disregard, and assume that it takes a really long time to prepare for a World Cup, so the concern is still merited. 8-) Glad you like it. Lots more angst to come.
SparklyPrincess: Yep, you're right. Read my caveat above. 8-) You found me out!
Badger Lord: I'm so glad you liked that. Sometimes *that* kind of internal pain is really hard to depict from the inside. I'm glad you didn't think it too shallow.
Dazdnconfusd730: All is forgiven. 8-)
Dark Luna Angel, anonymous, Sherylyn, sk8reagle (very true), Me (see, I updated), SpiderGirl05, AllAboutMe, Anti Pasta, Cassie (Thank you! g), Tempest Princess, Centra-gal86 (g), Shadow Ladi (I've been accused of that before… Me too, though. Poor Harry), Endriago Luna (You'll have to wait and see… 8D), jenny (here you go), ratgirl (I'll need to look into that), malexandria (thanks!), psychochick (I'm really glad you like him. He's my favorite. Oh, and I thoroughly intend to finish g), Amy, Minerva-Severus-Dumbledor, Caroline (YAMW: You are most welcome), FirePixie28, Kimmy, WeasleyTwinsLover1112, Hyper Princess, Slytherin Sweetheart, WhetherRose (I look forward to hearing more from you! Thank you.), Japangirlcarley24 (G), Ashley (Is this soon enough? No, wait. Don't answer that.), Von (timing is everything), Kore (thank you!), venus4280, Kranberries, Teigra: Thank you all so much for your kind words and reviews! The consensus is in: Percy's a prat. 8-) I'm glad you're enjoying it. More to come.
Lothey: Hmm. Very insightful review all the way around. I agree. How *can* he survive? (Do keep in mind Snape's potion actually put Harry into a deeper state, hence his ability to actively participate. The earlier ones are more indicative of what… Doh. I'm stopping right there. Stinker! You're right. He doesn't have a lot of time. I agree. I feel the same way about all that Harry goes through, then bouncing back and everything's just 'peachy'. It's not plausible. Just like we *know* he'll be changed after the Third Task. Interesting predictions, though. Only time will tell… 8-)
Tanya: Personally, I don't think there will ever be a time Harry doesn't think of others first… unless he's being clueless, which he has been known to do. Rarely, though. He's so sensitive. Yeah, I definitely don't envy Remus. Personally, I think it's a draw, but only because Sirius has already got 12 years of suffering on him anyway (Dursleys vs. Dementors… hmmm. Maybe they're more equal than I thought.) Yes, Sirius is what Harry's clinging to. If he loses it, Harry's got nothing (in his eyes). Thank you very much for the kind compliment. Please keep recommending it! 8-)
Nicky: Yes, here is where it begins. Hehehehehe. glows Thank you so much. I treasure your comments. It was definitely one of the smarter things I've ever done… Posting my stuff. The validation has given me the ability to be critical of my own work without being sensitive. It's an important distinction. So, you got it. No one *ever* gets to tell me otherwise. I'll just delete their reviews snickers.
Moonriter: giggles Here you go. I'm so glad you like it. I personally love the details too. I mean, there are only so many plots in this world. Boy meets girl, bad vs good, personal growth, etc. Everyone does them, and only sometimes does something completely unique come along (I adored the concept of Groundhog Day. That was brilliant, even though it too is about personal growth). So it's the details that make you *care* more, make it seem more real. I'm glad you like it.
Wonder: G I'm a sponge. I just can't seem to get enough of the kind compliments I've been getting about my writing. It means SO much to me. Thank you! 8-)
-_-: Well, I never said it was a sleeping potion. But he was so upset, they felt they couldn't leave him like that. Hang on to your stress ball, though.
Lothey: I'm glad you liked Snape here. Personally I got a kick out of having him contemplate getting struck by lightening just for the sake of his potions, but no one else has seemed to comment, so this must be an opinion of two (you and me). You know, I've thought that same thing. After writing them… How will I feel reading them? Only time will tell.
Nexus: You'll see…