Disclaimer: Harry Potter… Adored, but not owned. Alas…

Author's Note: I won't be able to send out notifications until this evening. If you see this and didn't hear from me yet, I really still am letting people know. I just couldn't wait to post! 8-) Enjoy, and as always, please read and review! G

Chapter 23

Percy sat at his desk, completely numb. He read, once again, the formal charges against Harry that he was supposed to process and felt his mind go oddly blank. How can this be? When did this happen? I was supposed to be there. Why didn't the Minister summon me when they brought Harry in? Percy kept asking himself. He'd been at his desk the entire time. It wasn't as if he were hard to reach. That's all he *ever* was. At his desk. Filing. Copying. Percy pushed angrily away from his desk, rolling his chair backwards and scattering the organized pile of papers in front of him.

He'd overheard the reports about what had happened at the Burrow, and his heart had broken. They weren't supposed to *assault* the Burrow. They weren't supposed to hurt his family. They were only supposed to bring Harry in for questioning. How did this happen? He refused to acknowledge the tears he knew were threatening to fall, yet again, at the realization of what had occurred. Of how completely he'd failed everyone. And now Harry was going to Azkaban.

It was the most insane, bizarre, ludicrous idea Percy had ever heard of. Harry was sick. He'd been sick since Percy's father had rescued him from the Dursleys. He was fifteen years old, and most definitely *not* Voldemort or Sirius Black.

But Lane's report was right in front of him. The testimony spelled it all out. Minister Fudge had administered Veritaserum to a fifteen year old boy, who'd then admitted to being an accomplice *after the fact* in a slew of recent wizarding disappearances, and who'd admitted guilt in the death of Cedric Diggory.

Percy shook his head, resting a trembling hand on the bridge of his nose to try to ease the pounding headache that caused his brain to buzz as loudly as the lighting in his office. Harry didn't kill anyone. Percy knew that. He knew it with the same certainty that he knew there was magic in the world and that dragons were real.

So what happened? Percy wondered for the thousandth time. You've been hoodwinked, friend, his brain said helpfully. Percy shook his head, even as the obvious spoke to him. What kind of a man gives an ill, fifteen year old boy Veritaserum and then sends him to Azkaban to await a hearing? Only the hardest criminals are sent there before sentencing. How can this be happening? Face it, old chap. Your dad was right, Percy's other voice said cheerfully, as if it were gloating.

"No," Percy uttered aloud, his breath hitching at the sobs that still threatened to overtake him. "No!" Percy said again, feeling angry and like a fool; a complete and utter fool. He slammed his fist against the desk angrily, not caring at the odd popping noises that sent waves of fire up his nerves to his brain. Abruptly, Percy stilled as he looked at his rapidly bruising hand. Or, more appropriately, at the scroll that had popped out of a hidden magical pocket he'd placed in his robe sleeves years ago. It held any number of useful things, usually essential items for protection against Fred and George, who found Percy to be their favorite victim. Prissy Percy, he remembered idly as he looked more closely at the scroll before him with a mounting sense of dread. It had Lane's seal of authentication on it.

****************************************************************************

Arthur sat in a quiet booth in the back of the Three Broomsticks awaiting his arrival. He sipped absently at a soda with cherry syrup. His stomach certainly couldn't handle anything stronger at the moment. Merlin.

"I've got to talk to you. Alone. In private," Percy had said, his voice oddly stiff and formal coming from the fireplace that evening. Madam Pomfrey had George recuperating upstairs nicely, Fred and Ron hovering at his side. Molly was currently resting on the couch after drinking a potion to ease the aches of the multiple stunning spells she'd endured. Ginny was in the kitchen with Hermione, fixing the family meal. Thank Merlin Ron was not in the living room, or the conversation wouldn't have happened, Arthur thought absently.

"Where and when?" was all Arthur had asked. In truth, he didn't even know how to begin with Percy. They'd never quite connected properly. Even though Percy had always been bound and determined to follow in his father's footsteps in the Ministry, there'd always been a… distance between them. Arthur had seen it early on, and tried to rectify it. But it always remained. It had taken many years to finally realize what the barrier had been between Percy and himself, and it pained him to acknowledge it. His son was ashamed of him.

The teenage disapproval and belief that parents really don't know *anything* had never disappeared with Percy as it had with Bill and Charlie. There had come a time in both the older boy's lives when they'd come to appreciate their family as it was. Percy never had. In Percy's eyes, Molly was too smothering and Arthur was a naïve, blind follower of Dumbledore. Arthur's love and fascination of all things Muggle was a source of embarrassment for Percy, and his inability to rise within the Ministry ranks frustrated him. Because he knows how hard you work, Arthur reminded himself. He suspected that a lot of Percy's bitterness stemmed from the fact that Arthur worked incredibly hard for the Ministry, Dumbledore, and the things he believed in with little to no recognition for what he'd done. In Percy's eyes, Arthur's life work had become nothing more than a waste of time.

Arthur sighed as he took another sip of his drink. He loved Percy. In fact, he was proud of Percy's stiff pride and unbending determination to do things *his* way no matter what. But now his pride had done the unthinkable. He'd put his family in jeopardy, and he'd hurt another human being. And deep down, Arthur was terrified to learn the real reasons behind *why* Percy had done it. Please let it not be for advancement, Arthur prayed silently. Let it be some misguided intention, or blind beliefs… Anything but ambition. Arthur didn't know how to reconcile the boy he loved with the decisions the young man he'd grown up to be had made. Thank Merlin Molly hadn't woken up to see him in the fireplace. At the moment, she would have likely hexed him on sight then alternated between cursing and smothering him until he recovered.

Arthur refused to think about how his family was doing at the moment. They'd been devastated. That's an understatement. Arthur knew the numbness he felt now was simply because he still had things to do. This is the course I've set for myself. I'll have a good stiff drink and a cry later, when George's awake, Molly's better, and Harry's safe. Things needed to be discussed, options looked at, regarding Harry. Arthur was going to pay Dumbledore a visit after this… whatever this is… with Percy.

Percy entered the Three Broomsticks, his lips pursed as his eyes darted about the room, clearly searching for his father. Arthur had chosen a secluded booth in the corner. Whatever Percy wanted to talk about, he'd been serious about wanting privacy, so Arthur had accommodated. Percy's eyes landed on him, and Arthur was surprised at the stark relief he read there. Percy quickly crossed the room, absently placing an order with Madam Rosmerta before sliding onto the seat across from him. Arthur watched his son quietly for a moment before nodding.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," Percy said. Arthur frowned. His voice sounded odd and strained.

"I did," Arthur replied.

"I didn't know who to talk to," Percy continued.

"You can always talk to me," Arthur said. Percy looked up, his eyes distraught. Arthur hoped Percy understood the ramifications of what he'd done, but he'd wait. He wouldn't accuse. It was better to let Percy unfold what the meeting was about before he began placing blame. Although he wanted to throttle his son at the moment in frustration. How could you do this?

"I didn't think… after…" Percy began. Arthur waited for him to continue, refusing to fill in any blanks. "I… I didn't think they'd do this…" Percy said, and Arthur felt alarm. They'd had Harry in custody now for nearly half a day. Surely things haven't gone that bad in just a few hours.

"What, Percy?" Arthur interrupted, trying to corral his son's random statements.

"I didn't think they'd use Veritaserum on him…" Percy said, and Arthur nearly stood up in alarm.

"No. Percy, what…" Arthur said in alarm, his worst fears realized. Percy began to cry openly now as he reached into his robe sleeve. For one horrible, haunting moment Arthur froze for fear Percy was reaching for his wand. That Percy was about to arrest or attack his own father now, too. Arthur forced his hands to be still, for the blood to quit pounding in his ears as his son slipped out a scroll and placed it in front of his father. Arthur reached forward tentatively to open it, his hands trembling with the rapidly fading adrenaline that now left him exhausted and drained. Please, whoever hears these prayers, let me never have to doubt my own children again, Arthur thought and suppressed the shame now threatening to rise up in place of his fear at doubting his own flesh and blood.

"I don't remember any of this," Percy stated as he now seemed to realize his face was soaked with tears. He scrubbed at them irritably with the sleeve of his robe very much like he had as a little boy as Madam Rosmerta placed Percy's gillyweed on the edge of the table, her eyes averted to allow her customers' discussion to continue uninterrupted before quickly retreating back behind the bar. Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat and unrolled the scroll.

"Is this really…" Arthur asked, suddenly recognizing the seal. Percy nodded.

"How are they, dad? Are they okay?" he asked, his face stark with guilt. Arthur wanted to shout for joy that his son had asked. It broke Arthur's heart how desperate he was for any proof that his son still cared, that what Percy had done mattered to him. But it did.

"Your mum got hit with quite a few stunners there. She didn't want to let Harry go alone. George was hurt the worst. His leg was broken in numerous places, and he hit his head pretty hard falling down the stairs. Madam Pomfrey's seen him already, though, and says he'll be up and around tomorrow morning," Arthur said, not pulling any punches. Percy *had* to understand what he'd done.

"They weren't supposed to do anything, dad. They were just supposed to…" Percy said, but Arthur didn't hear the rest of Percy's words because he'd begun to read Lane's transcription of what had taken place in Harry's interrogation, for that was most certainly what it was. Arthur looked up at Percy with haunted eyes as the events unfolded. Poor boy. What have they done to you? Poor boy, was all Arthur could think of until he came to where the scroll ended. Azkaban. They're taking him to Azkaban. Arthur watched as his son dissolved into quiet sobs. "He promised…" Percy said between hiccups. Arthur forced himself to remain in his seat, not to reach out to comfort his son. Percy needed to learn this lesson, and learn it well. Arthur didn't know if he could endure having it repeated.

"Oh, Percy. What have you done?" Arthur asked his son sadly, not really expecting an answer, and took off his glasses for a moment to wipe at his own tears tiredly, massaging the bridge of his nose where the nosepieces felt like they'd left permanent indentations.

"I couldn't stop them. I don't even remember this, but I've run all the tests. It's true. Lane can't remember it, either. But this is really his. He even put additional magical signatures on it, along with a certifiable wizard timestamp to insure he had it all recorded. *This* is what they want me to process," Percy said and produced a nearly identical scroll, which Arthur quickly scanned with growing alarm.

"And he wants this released to the press?" Arthur asked, shocked. He'd feared this day would come, had prepared himself for it in every way he could think of, yet it was still a shock. How can anyone do this to a child? Percy nodded.

"He's already on his way, dad. I… I don't remember anything. I don't remember seeing him, or any of this conversation," Percy said, his face desperate. "I've got to undo this, dad. I've got to stop them…" he said, his voice several octaves higher than normal from the stress. Arthur raised a hand tiredly.

"You learned a long time ago Percy that it takes a lot longer to fix something than it does to break it," Arthur said sternly to his son. "There's nothing you can do at the moment to help Harry. He's going to face the Dementors, and indirectly it's because of you," Arthur said, trying to drive the truth home. He knew Percy felt responsible, but would he be accountable for his actions? He'd come to Arthur with the scroll. Would he be willing to see it through? Would he be willing to acknowledge his own folly? It's time to choose sides, son. This isn't a game. Percy looked shocked at Arthur's statement.

"But I never…" Percy objected. Arthur raised a hand to stop him.

"So you've read the full testimony?" Arthur asked. Percy nodded. "Do you believe Harry? Do you believe us?" he pressed. Percy leaned back in his chair, his eyes glancing at the empty booths around him nervously.

"What are you asking, dad?" Percy said softly.

"Do you believe You Know Who has risen?" Arthur asked. Percy looked profoundly uncomfortable.

"I…" Percy began, and Arthur growled at the back peddling he suspected was about to take place. Arthur slammed his fist against the table angrily.

"They gave him Veritaserum!" Arthur hissed, ignoring the surprised looks from a couple of regulars at the bar. Percy was looking everywhere but at his father. "If you can't believe *that*, then you're as bad as Fudge. And you're going to have to stop calling Harry a liar, because it's not that he's lying, it's that You. Don't. Want. To. Believe," Arthur said with enough force to stun Percy into stillness. His eyes were wide in shock and his mouth hung open in a small 'O'.

"Then it's true. No, dad, I *don't* want to believe him, but you're right. How can I refute what's been said all along? What poor Harry recounted in such awful detail? Merlin. Those dreams, that's what he's been seeing, and I just made him relive it," Percy said weakly. Arthur refrained from reminding his son that Harry was about to do that on a permanent basis until they found a way to get him out of Azkaban. There was such a thing as rubbing salt in the wound.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Arthur asked his son. Percy sat in silence for some time. The range of emotions that played across his face were complicated, and Arthur decided to let them play themselves out. This was an answer that had to come *completely* from his son, without any of his father's prompting. Arthur sipped at his cherry soda, forcing his face into a mask of calm and stillness that clearly began to annoy his son.

"What? What do you want me to say? That I was wrong? That you're right? There. I said it," Percy said angrily. Arthur blinked at his son, refusing to rise to the bait. "What? What do you want from me?" Percy asked, turning his guilt into aggression and anger.

"Nothing, son. Nothing," Arthur said, and took a huge gamble in making a motion to stand. Percy's hand streaked out and grabbed his father's wrist.

"No. No, dad… No, I'm sorry. Don't…" Percy said, struggling through his own emotions. "Don't go," he finally said quietly. Arthur nodded and took his seat again. "I'm in. I got Harry into this, and I'll get him out. Whatever it takes. It's clear Fudge is out to cover his own arse, and that he's setting Harry up. He must have performed a memory charm on Lane and myself, so first I'll need to try to break it. Can you help me with that?" Percy asked, finally calming his emotions as he faced the task at hand. Arthur nodded.

"This could mean your job," Arthur said solemnly. Percy nodded.

"Suddenly it doesn't seem to matter as much, does it?" Percy asked with suddenly wise eyes, and the shared knowledge between father and son finally bridged a barrier that had been between them for far too long.

"No, it doesn't, does it? Come on, I've got someone who I think can help with those charms," Arthur said, standing up. The drink that Percy had ordered remained on the table, untouched. As the two strode out into the summer night, Percy automatically turned in the direction of Hogwarts. He knew where to go.

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Remus Lupin walked the passageway tiredly back to the Shrieking Shack, his mind whirling at the latest news. He'd gone to assist Dumbledore in breaking the memory charms on Percy, and had learned far more than he'd wanted to. That's one story I'm not going to be relating back to Sirius any time soon, he thought. In truth, Remus was having a difficult time not sinking to the floor and curling into a ball. Although his ribs had been healed for nearly a day now, the remembered shock and pain of Harry's expression as he insisted on letting himself get captured brought a twinge to Remus' chest. Foolish, brave, stupid, naïve Harry… Remus wanted to cry.

Forcing his mind back to the present, trying not to let his own feelings of failure overwhelm him, Remus contemplated how he was going to help Sirius. Percy had proven to be amazingly cooperative, especially once the memory spells had been broken.

Of course, apparently Harry had been more aware of the possibility of his failure to convince the Ministry than even Remus had realized. He'd made Percy promise to bring the truth to light.

As Percy had spoken Harry's words, Remus felt chills zip up and down his spine at the promise Harry had extracted from Percy, no matter how cavalierly Percy had given it. In essence, Harry had created a sort of wizard's oath between them, sealing Percy's devotion to a cause he'd refused to believe in so cleverly that Remus realized even Arthur might not understand the full ramifications. But Dumbledore certainly had by the expression Remus saw flash briefly across his face as Percy related their conversation.

By making it clear Harry was placing his trust and his life in Percy's hands… Remus exhaled forcefully. He'd been forgetting to do that recently. Breathe. Dumbledore was going to visit the Burrow in several hours, to discuss the paperwork Percy was about to smuggle back for the rest of the Weasleys to begin the arduous task of looking for where the bodies were buried. Literally.

It was impossibly frustrating for Remus to believe that the proof of memory spells and the tampered testimony Fudge had submitted against Harry were not enough to free him immediately. We need a chain of evidence. The Ministry is too far gone now, too entrenched in their own lies. It was going to take more than just one thing to topple this administration. For that's what we now have to do. It was no longer a matter of steering clear of Fudge and doing what they felt they must. Now Fudge was as much a part of the problem as Voldemort… and people were dying because of his refusal to acknowledge Voldemort's return. His blatent disregard for the safety of the wizarding community in the face of the recent Death Eater attacks officially placed blood on his hands. By allowing the public their false sense of security, the public wasn't being given the chance to properly try to protect themselves, to take extra precautions.

Remus opened the door to the Shrieking Shack hesitantly. It was silent inside. Magically locking the door behind him, Remus tentatively stepped into the bedroom. Sirius was awake, his eyes flat and unseeing as he stared at the wall in front of him and absently stroked an orange cat who was blissfully purring on the bed beside him.

Remus stopped abruptly. That's Hermione's pet, Crookshanks. He'd sealed the shack behind him, and Sirius didn't have a wand. How had Crookshanks gotten in, and more importantly, what was he doing there? He certainly was a long way from home.

"Sirius?" Remus asked, his soft voice still sounding too loud in the silence of the room. Sirius didn't answer, but Crookshanks turned to face Remus, blinking his eyes contentedly for a moment before turning back to face Sirius. He had an oddly liquid purr, as if it didn't just come from his throat, but from deep within his lungs as well. A purr muffled by water, Remus thought distractedly. Crookshanks and Sirius had developed an odd connection, Remus suddenly remembered. Hermione's pet had even tried to protect Sirius from Harry's wand, Remus recalled. Sirius stayed where he was, not looking up or acknowledging Remus' presence at all.

Remus crossed the room to sit on the bed beside his friend, his mind desperately searching for what the right words would be to bring him back. Sirius had awoken from the potion Remus had given him to cry and scream seemingly for hours before finally stilling into silence. His face was slack, his muscles loose, as if he were beginning to emotionally shut down. Sirius had been in the same position on the bed when Remus left him nearly two hours ago… minus the cat… No… kneazle, right? Hmmm. A mix, if I remember correctly, Remus thought distractedly, amazed at the randomness of his own thoughts.

"Sirius," Remus said again more forcefully, reaching out and placing the flat of his hand against Sirius' cheek, turning him to face Remus. Sirius didn't resist.

"How could this happen? We had him, Moony. He was safe with us. Now he's… he's…" Sirius said, his eyes searching Remus' face. He must have read something there, for abruptly his entire demeanor changed. He looked into Remus' eyes and suddenly stilled. Defeat and sadness turned into something else, and Remus suppressed showing the alarm he felt at Sirius' expression. "They've used it, haven't they?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. The Veritaserum.

For all of Sirius' bluster and noise, Remus was well aware that *this* moment was when Sirius was at his most dangerous. Sirius furious or howling mad could eventually be reasoned with. This face Sirius presented now Remus had only seen a few times in his life, and in truth it terrified him. Infinitely more dangerous. Only death would stop Sirius once he chose a direction. Remus took a deep breath to calm his nerves, frantic for what he was about to say to be right, as he locked eyes with his best friend. Even Crookshanks stopped purring as if sensing all of the undercurrents to Sirius' tone. The cat looked between the two of them as if he were following the conversation and understood what the two men were saying.

"Padfoot… I'm going to say this just once, but it's important for you to really try to listen," Remus said, leaning forward so that he and Sirius were nearly nose to nose, so Sirius could see the sincerity and intensity of what Remus was trying to convey.

"Harry's not dead. He's alive. As long as he's alive, we have *got* to do everything in our power to help him," Remus said, willing what little hope he had into his friend. Sirius blinked.

"How is he…?" Sirius whispered, his voice a soft hiss. Who do I extract vengeance on? Who pays for what they've done to my godson? Remus knew to be his real thoughts.

"He's still alive…" Remus said, emphasizing his point again. Besides, he didn't want to have to utter the next sentence. Sirius guessed anyway.

"They're sending him to Azkaban, aren't they?" Sirius asked, his voice expressionless. Remus nodded, not daring to speak. "It's because they know Harry won't last long there. Probably not more than a week at the most," Sirius stated matter-of-factly. Remus cringed at the brutal truthfulness of the statement and nodded. He know better than most just how badly the Dementors affected Harry.

Sirius nearly leaped off of the bed as Crookshanks savagely scratched Sirius' thigh, tearing straight through his pants. Remus jumped back in surprise, but Sirius began to laugh… The laughter fluctuated in pitch so dramatically that Remus froze, stunned at how maniacal his friend sounded. How frightening. If he'd laughed like that after his confrontation with Pettigrew, no wonder the witnesses had been terrified.

"You're right, aren't you little fellow?" Sirius asked the cat affectionately, his voice still deadly, scratching underneath Crookshanks' chin fondly even as Remus watched blood begin to flow from the scratches on Sirius' thigh.

"Sirius?" Remus asked, unsure how to proceed. Sirius was beginning to really disconcert Remus.

"He's still alive. We haven't much time. Can you keep up?" Sirius said as he seemed to unfold from the bed with cat-like grace, standing on the mattress before nonchalantly stepping to the floor. His face was as intense and focused as when Remus had first seen his friend in the Shrieking Shack over a year ago. After he'd broken Ron's leg.

"I'll apparate when I can't," Remus replied in determination, standing. He was heartened by his friend's response, but knew they were all on borrowed time. Remus might not be in the best of health, but his enhanced senses and strength in a fight could prove invaluable... And he was certainly no slouch in the hexes department.

Besides, this time I'm not letting Harry go, Remus thought, wishing Harry could have stayed with him instead of the Dursleys for the thousandth time, pushing his regret aside and using his friend's grim determination as a model. He looked at the escaped convict before him and felt the wolf rise within him once again, stirred by his protectiveness and need to help both Harry and Sirius. This was his *family* in every sense of the word. Even if it killed him, he'd keep up with Sirius. Sirius nodded in satisfaction.

"Wormtail was here," Sirius said. Remus felt his breathe whoosh out in surprise. Sirius nodded, smiling gleefully, even maniacally. "This little guy's been tracking him," Sirius said, nodding his head fondly towards Crookshanks, who was seated at the edge of the bed with his fluffy tail curled daintily around his feet. Remus refrained from asking the question: Can you talk to him? How do you know? "We have a scent, Moony and a window of opportunity. Harry wanted to prove my innocence by talking about Pettigrew. So let's find something the Ministry can't hide… Well, um… as long as we guard it…" Sirius suddenly stumbled over the irony of his own words, losing his momentum, grinning dangerously at his own statement. For the Ministry has indeed been hiding the bodies, haven't they? Remus nodded. Time to shine some light on the Ministry's dirty little secrets. "Produce Pettigrew and everything else the Ministry has argued crumbles," Sirius said.

"Actually, we also have falsified scrolls and altered memories as well. It's not enough on its own, but in combination…" Remus said. Sirius nodded in satisfaction, although there was no humor in his smile. Remus felt as if he'd dodged a silver bullet when his friend didn't ask to read the transcripts. He knows what happened. Momentum at its most dangerous.

"Perhaps our own Minister would like a taste of Azkaban?" Sirius asked, and Remus' eyes widenend. It was certainly true that he'd violated so many regulations. Remus smiled evilly in return. Yes, he'd be happy with that outcome. Very happy.

TBC…

Colleen: Very true. Ignorance is bliss indeed.

Nicky: I'm working on it. Sorry it's taking so long. I've got revisions first. 8-) This is where it all comes together, so I'm going to have to work a little harder to make sure it all works. The chapters are still coming though… just a little slower. g

Kimmy, CherryStain, Moonlight, sk8reagle (A bad guy. An accomplice, if you will. Thanks!), Nexus, Moonywolf, Amy, Allocin (All will be revealed… Thank you!), baasheep (Thank you! g It's amazing what lengths someone will go to to preserve their own behind at the expense of others, isn't it? Now, I wouldn't do that… ahem), Caitlin, Teigra, Sakura Le (Thanks!), FirePixie28, Angels Kiss-G, Dark Luna Angel, Amadeo, -_- (You'll see…), malexandria (I understand your sentiment. Conspiracy theories abound.), Seeker-2000 (Wow. I appreciate that! Thanks!), Anti Pasta, OmegaNY (You'll see…), Centra_gal86 (No Howlers, please ducks in fright), dazdnconfusd730, sherlock 2k (giggles I've had most of it in my head, but to get these later chapters to work I did have to outline it. Good luck yourself!), kapies, Anoni (lol Yes, I haven't been bored at all with this story. In fact, it's a bit of an addiction. g), Me, Hummingfox (Hmmm. I'll have to check. If I didn't, I'll try to address soon. That would certainly end the story, wouldn't it? Thanks!), Bridgie (I try to do about one a week), Lindsay, Coconut-ice agent h/h (Hmmm. Let's see if I get this right cracks knuckles: HTML is a markup language that is used to create hypertext and hypermedia documents on the World Wide Web incorporating text, graphics, sound, video, and hyperlinks), Tempest Princess (blushes I'm working on it.), Badger Lord, Bumblebee Bucy (By all means, please do!), Star Light, Rosethorn8706 (G Yeah, I snuck that doctor in. He presents nicely, but Percy sniffed him out pretty quick, didn't he? Too bad he wasn't as suspicious of his boss. Why thank you!), SpiderGirl05, Harrylover (steps away from the computer nervously… Actually, for all that the magical world is much more fun than ours, there is an inequity. Any environment that will throw a man in prison for life without even a trial, who will ostracize and discriminate against werewolves, who will allow Lucius Malfoy to be a prominent citizen and not even try to stop Draco from saying horribly maligning, discriminatory things… You get the picture. Keep reading. Lots of developments ahead), KookKandyGrl eep, Michelle, Jenna, Becca Black (Me too), Kranberries, ratgirl (Yes, his prospects at the moment aren't good, are they?), Anna-mathe (bwah hah hah. You'll see.), Lei Dumbledore (G Thanks!), mnemosyne, Phoenix (You'll see), Elvin Goddess, Anonymous G, Kate the Great (g ), Anne (I'm working on that), LittleEar BigEar's sis (Oh, thanks! I'm trying), Vlana, Jenna: Well… The consensus is in. Everyone wants Fudge torture. G I'm glad you liked the chapter. Lots more to come. Maybe even a little comeuppance… 8-)

Gracie: Thanks you. I try to do it about once a week. Hang in there! Here's a tissue…

Moonlight Yellow: Wow. I appreciate that. Snape was a little difficult at first, but he has the ability to take over. His sense of humor has been creeping into my everyday life (in my mind, not out loud.) Perhaps I'll need to wear sweeping black robes for Halloween just to get him out of my system. Hmm. I didn't mean to portray Harry childlike. I have issues when his behavior doesn't match his age in other fics, so I've been trying to keep that in line. I perceived that he's still horribly sick, has just woken up from being stunned, knows that this is it and things aren't looking so good. His confidence at the moment has been stripped away, and all that remains is to try to get something good out of bad situation. Shortly, hopefully you'll see the other side of that. I hope to keep the unexpected going, so hang in there! Hmm. Hadn't thought about that POV. Don't think I can do it now, though. Too late in the story. Sorry. It's a clever idea, though. Nope, have no fears, I do what pleases me. I do take suggestions and helpful criticism, though. Thanks very much. I hope I don't disappoint.

Lothey: I'm so sorry about your computer. 8-( Thanks for noticing that. He's only fifteen after all. Even he can't last without hope forever. I'm working on that… We'll see. 8-)

Sky Chief: Keep in mind that poor Harry's currently not in the best of health and feeling a tad downtrodden. When push comes to shove, his spirit's still intact, though. His fire remains. I understand, though. Harry's not about martyrdom as much as inner strength. It's what makes us all want to protect him as he himself doesn't truly realize how bad he has it.

Silverleaf: True. The hardest part I've found in life is the waiting. When things happen, for good or ill, at least they're happening. Treading water sucks. As by now I'm sure you're realizing, this is a darker story. But as it gets darker, hopefully there will also be hope. Hang in there. How's that for a bone? 8-)