Chapter 2: Manipulations
I sat alone at a table in an obscure cafe about a block from The Leaky Cauldron, wondering not for the first time why I had sent that owl three days ago. It would have been so easy to ignore. The chattering around me, though oddly soothing in that I was not a part of it, did nothing to settle my apprehensions.
Jay was to blame for this. Of course, I shouldn't have tried to explain my problems to him either. But that was beside the point at the moment. He gave me advice, and for some odd reason beyond my control I had listened.
At least he had pointedly ignored the owl. That could have been a bit harder to explain than, "The world's best manipulator has targeted me." And that basically summed up my situation.
I looked around the small shop again but saw no one I recognized. Sighing, my head turned to the window. A slight drizzle had begun. It surely reflected my mood. I didn't want to be here. I wanted to leave my past as just that, and move off into obscurity in the Muggle world. I did not want to be manipulated into teaching for a year.
Teaching? Perhaps Dumbledore *had* gone senile in his old age. Yet, my mind unwillingly wandered to the D.A., the pride I had felt at those meetings and the satisfaction I had of passing on knowledge to others. Perhaps it wouldn't be that bad.
What had I just thought? I arranged this meeting only to settle my mind and tell Dumbledore, or whomever he sent, that I was no longer a part of the Wizarding World. I did not want my flat bombarded with owls. And neither, I believed, did Jay for that matter.
The door opened and I turned towards it. Remus Lupin appeared worse for wear. Hair gray beyond his years, deep lines shone from his face. The man wore a smile, though, that betrayed the years of sorrow in his eyes. His Muggle clothing was about as threadbare as his robes had been the last time I had seen him.
He scanned the room, eyes passing over the darkened customer near the window. I happened to be that customer, though, and as much as it amused me that I hadn't been recognized for once, I wanted this over with. I raised my hand slightly off the table, and he caught the movement. Realization dawned and he weaved his way through the patrons towards my corner.
Dumbledore really knew how to make this difficult for me. I couldn't be as short and curt as I wanted to be on this matter with Remus. Damn him for thinking this through all too thoroughly. Many nights had my thoughts strayed to the werewolf. And now here he was, willing to talk and give me advice, to hand me Dumbledore's offer that became harder and harder to refuse with each passing minute.
He sat down opposite me without a word, his smile faded. Taking out a larger envelope of the same customary yellow parchment, he handed it to me.
"All the details for you. It's a magically binding contract, by the way, for one year," he said quickly. So, Dumbledore had put him up to it.
I raised an eyebrow, and his smile from before returned.
"Why me?" I asked the question right out.
His concern showed through. "Albus doesn't want you to suffer like you have been, Oedipus."
So, they also knew my name. A clever way at telling me that they'd been watching me.
"Don't worry," Remus assured as he saw the look on my face. "As far as I'm aware, only Albus knows. And you could be Professor Lee for all he cares."
"I mean," I amended my question, "Why does he think I'm capably of such a thing?"
"That's a rather obvious answer," Remus tried to shrug off my question. I glared and he continued. "I remember a certain Dumbledore's Army which points to you being a more than competent teacher. Also . . . Well, you know you're Defense. That's sort of obvious."
Damn Remus for being so likable. It was impossible to scowl at his remark. "It's not like I needed much Defense in the end, though. . . ." I kept the images at bay, no need to relive those right now.
"Do you mind if I ask . . ." His sense of curiosity prompted the question, but that of privacy stopped him from finishing it.
"How?" I took the initiative to finish it for him.
"Yes," he confirmed, nodding.
I sighed. Remus opened his mouth to apologize for asking. Better sooner than later someone would have to know, I resigned.
"I didn't," I said quietly. He closed his mouth.
I paused, long enough for his confusion to settle in. My hands twisted together painfully.
"I gave him mercy," I explained a bit more. Another pause before I elaborated. "I had the chance to kill him, but I couldn't do it. I turned my back and when he tried to kill me, the curse rebounded onto him. Added to his recent Wizard's debt, it was enough."
"He died by his own hand," Remus whispered to himself.
"I would like to think so." I said. I didn't voice to him that I took the fault because that would lead to his rationalizing against me. I'd been through all the reasons before (Prominent factors being that he was a homicidal psycho and had only died because he'd tried to kill me.) and I had no intention of going through them again. My mental state was in enough stress as it currently stood.
"I'm sorry," Remus said sincerely.
His sympathy cut though to me even though I did my best to block it out. I tried to tell myself I didn't want his sympathy, but I did want it. After so long, I needed it. I needed someone to know what happened that night. I wouldn't admit that to myself, though.
He then handed across the table something I never expected to see again, keeping it carefully shielded from prying eyes. Thunder rumbled threateningly outside as I picked up the thin stick of polished wood. That couldn't be a good omen. Nonetheless, I grinned for the first time since receiving that owl.
"Where --?" I began to ask, but couldn't form the question.
"Albus was keeping it. That night he picked it up before the Ministry's crew arrived and could confiscate it as evidence. Its brother was destroyed --"
I nodded, dejected as the images flashed through my mind: Me dropping my wand as I turned my back, Voldemort's curse unable to leave the tip of his. . . .
The wand seemed as happy to see me as I it. It was collecting fresh power from the surroundings and a surge of power flowed through me. Before the power reached the point of needing release, I quickly stashed it in my back pocket. At Remus's knowing smile I shook my head in amusement.
"Come on!" I said in mock outrage. "The only person who ever lost a buttocks that way was Mundungus himself."
Remus merely rolled his eyes. A barrier seemed to shift from between us, and though neither of us spoke, the silence following was that of friends.
"So," Remus said after a few minutes, trying to sound professional and failing miserably. I raised an eyebrow in interest. "Have you given this . . . er, offer . . . much thought?"
"Three days of nothing else," I answered. "And I'm no closer to reaching a decision than I was when I began."
Remus wasn't helping my piece of mind at all on the choice in front of me either. My intentions for the meeting had been to prove myself just how much I did not want to return to the Wizarding World, say a resound "no", and never look back. These had been thrown out the third story window the moment I saw Remus enter and now they were currently being run over repeatedly by the Knight Bus. Amazingly, they were still screaming to be saved. I spent so much effort in avoiding this world, and now this werewolf made my resolves waver. And Dumbledore had planned this.
I had wanted to confirm that the Wizarding World did not need nor want me. I wanted to abandon it just as it had abandoned me. But proof against all of this rested in Remus, now sitting before me. Remus, whom I had left without a second thought and hadn't even cared to say Goodbye. And this man was willing to forgive me all that and more. He showed me no malice or hurt, merely understanding. And, damn it, understanding was what I needed after so long.
Why hadn't Dumbledore sent Snape? But my thoughts wavered once more. He could have easily sent the packet with an owl, too. And it's easier still to turn down an owl than an actual person. He had planned all of this and calculated all my reactions, the bastard, and there was no way I could get out of this now. Even as I knew I was being manipulated, I couldn't stop it.
I faltered in my thoughts. Dumbledore was flat out telling me, through this, that I had no better choice to make. But I couldn't accept that just yet.
"I just . . ." My mind stumbled for words. "I just need someone to tell me that I made the right choice."
I avoided Remus's eyes, and stared instead into my swirling coffee. Hypnotically beautiful in the stormy din of the cafe.
"You did," Remus said. In his tone I could tell that he wasn't just telling me what I wanted to hear. "If only because it was your own, you made the right choice. But you can't avoid your past forever. As sure as you felt it when you touched your wand, you are a wizard. If you want to leave Harry Potter behind, so be it, but don't forget who you are inside because in the end that's all that matters."
He paused, trying to get my eyes to look up at him. When I didn't movie he continued: "I ask you for Sirius's sake, Harry--Oedipus. Come back . . . under any name. Just don't keep on denying yourself who you truly are."
I looked up into his eyes. They revealed all the pain he'd suffered, physically and mentally, his whole life. His hand dealt in life had been much harder than mine, and he still managed.
He, also, was singled out in the Wizarding World for an aspect he could not control. He had lived as a Muggle. It made his transformations at the time so much harder than normal. In the Muggle world, there are no healing potions to help the day after. Slowly, his health had diminished until he had resigned himself to his fate as an outcast and returned to the hidden world. Shortly after, Dumbledore offered him the same post I was being offered now.
"Have you slept recently?" He asked, taking me by surprise.
I thought that would have been obvious to anyone who saw my appearance. At my startled expression he smiled. Like he had done with my wand, a vial was pushed casually across the table. Snape's sharp writing proclaimed: "Dreamless Sleep -- SS 8/03"
He shrugged. "You have to admit, there are advantages."
"How many people does Dumbledore have trying to recruit me?"
"I doubt Snape knew of the circumstances or the receiver, otherwise I may not have passed it on to you ."
"That's reassuring," I said sarcastically. His mischievous grin showed that he, also, had thought of along the same lines of "accidental" poisoning.
He glanced quickly at his watch.
"Another meeting?" I asked. He was willing to talk all day, but I wanted an excuse to be alone -- even if it were Remus's own.
He scowled at my playfully. He hadn't wanted me to see the glance.
"Luna Lovegood --" He went to explain, but I cut him off.
"The Wormtail article? Dumbledore sent it to me." I added at his questioning look.
"Yes. I expect Albus wants to remind you of the yet unresolved. And of what you can possibly help with -- he has some interesting theoretical ideas that I'll leave him to say. As far as I can tell it involves a transfer of power or something connected with the Dark Mark and your scar -- "
I could feel his eyes scanning my forehead.
"Muggle make-up," I said, not wanting to draw it out.
He saw my discomfort and switched the topic back. "Anyroad, I want to remind Luna of your interview with Skeeter where you listed the Death Eaters you knew of. Wormtail was overlooked at the time. I don't even know if that name is on any of the Ministry's "lists." Also, I want to give her an anonymous alternative account for Sirius's innocence. It can't hurt. The Quibbler's reputation is starting to change, at any rate. But it can wait if you want to --"
"No, you should go. It can do some good and Luna's not one to stand up."
"Are you sure?"
Well, I wouldn't have said it otherwise. I nodded. "I need to think . . ."
"Albus'll need your answer . . ." He offered a kind smile. Those smiles always got to me. My resolve was failing fast and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
"He already knows it," I said resentfully. As an afterthought added, " But, I'll give him it formally soon. I just . . . don't want to admit it yet. Mental overload, I guess."
"Sleep on it." He motioned towards the vial as he stood up to leave.
We shook hands formally, but he pulled me closer, laughing lowly.
"Hope to see you soon, Oedipus."
"Either way," I replied. I had left Remus once and wouldn't do it again--I blamed the smile.
He left and I followed soon after. The rain had increased slightly; it didn't strike me as a pleasant sign.
I walked for a bit, removed from the crowd around me, lost in my own thoughts. They all smiled ignorantly and went along with a life of their own choosing. I considered rejecting it all out of spite, but that wasn't a satisfying reason for my conscious.
The world around me went on with the day, but could not be a part of that no matter how hard I had been trying these last years. My past haunted me still. It always would.
Remus was right, I could not deny myself who I truly was. I could not be a part of the Muggle world. He knew this from his own life. No matter how hard I had tried these last years, my past still lingered on the edge.
So, my option came down to a clear yea or nay.
Nay: I would go on with this, wander with no destination in mind, hide from my past, face my dreams and my turmoil at night. But, this was my own choice. Here no one knew my name and I was just another face in the crowd (A crowd I could not be an active part of). I liked the anonymity. Also, I wouldn't have to face Dumbledore's manipulations.
Yea: I would go to Hogwarts, teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, reenter the Wizarding World, sleep at night. Not to mention the people I had left behind without caring for, Remus being the main figure among them. Perhaps others would reenter my acquaintances, or perhaps not. Also, anonymity was possible. Oedipus Lee was far away from the last pictures of Harry Potter (Longer hair, hidden scar, different glasses, dulled eyes . . . and it had been five years since anyone had seen Harry Potter) and if I presented myself in such light, no one would be the wiser.
But I didn't want to turn back. To face my past would be a bitter turn after locking it away for so long. And the society of the Wizarding World would never learn from its mistakes. So much better to let it rot behind me instead of in front of me. There was nothing I could do to stop it. I wondered, briefly, if Hermione had yet figured this out.
There was also Voldemort's power. I felt that hidden power stir within me even now. It had surged when I touched my wand. And that power drew me to it; The Dark I harbored inside was inescapable. It was so pleasurable in its absence of morals, so addicting. I didn't know if I would be able to keep the Dark suppressed inside me if I once again used my wand. Could I take that risk?
I saw dingy sign for The Leaky Cauldron out of the corner of my eye. The presence of the building only separated me more from the Muggles around me. Without a second glance, I passed it by.
Could I go back again even for Sirius's sake?
I sat alone at a table in an obscure cafe about a block from The Leaky Cauldron, wondering not for the first time why I had sent that owl three days ago. It would have been so easy to ignore. The chattering around me, though oddly soothing in that I was not a part of it, did nothing to settle my apprehensions.
Jay was to blame for this. Of course, I shouldn't have tried to explain my problems to him either. But that was beside the point at the moment. He gave me advice, and for some odd reason beyond my control I had listened.
At least he had pointedly ignored the owl. That could have been a bit harder to explain than, "The world's best manipulator has targeted me." And that basically summed up my situation.
I looked around the small shop again but saw no one I recognized. Sighing, my head turned to the window. A slight drizzle had begun. It surely reflected my mood. I didn't want to be here. I wanted to leave my past as just that, and move off into obscurity in the Muggle world. I did not want to be manipulated into teaching for a year.
Teaching? Perhaps Dumbledore *had* gone senile in his old age. Yet, my mind unwillingly wandered to the D.A., the pride I had felt at those meetings and the satisfaction I had of passing on knowledge to others. Perhaps it wouldn't be that bad.
What had I just thought? I arranged this meeting only to settle my mind and tell Dumbledore, or whomever he sent, that I was no longer a part of the Wizarding World. I did not want my flat bombarded with owls. And neither, I believed, did Jay for that matter.
The door opened and I turned towards it. Remus Lupin appeared worse for wear. Hair gray beyond his years, deep lines shone from his face. The man wore a smile, though, that betrayed the years of sorrow in his eyes. His Muggle clothing was about as threadbare as his robes had been the last time I had seen him.
He scanned the room, eyes passing over the darkened customer near the window. I happened to be that customer, though, and as much as it amused me that I hadn't been recognized for once, I wanted this over with. I raised my hand slightly off the table, and he caught the movement. Realization dawned and he weaved his way through the patrons towards my corner.
Dumbledore really knew how to make this difficult for me. I couldn't be as short and curt as I wanted to be on this matter with Remus. Damn him for thinking this through all too thoroughly. Many nights had my thoughts strayed to the werewolf. And now here he was, willing to talk and give me advice, to hand me Dumbledore's offer that became harder and harder to refuse with each passing minute.
He sat down opposite me without a word, his smile faded. Taking out a larger envelope of the same customary yellow parchment, he handed it to me.
"All the details for you. It's a magically binding contract, by the way, for one year," he said quickly. So, Dumbledore had put him up to it.
I raised an eyebrow, and his smile from before returned.
"Why me?" I asked the question right out.
His concern showed through. "Albus doesn't want you to suffer like you have been, Oedipus."
So, they also knew my name. A clever way at telling me that they'd been watching me.
"Don't worry," Remus assured as he saw the look on my face. "As far as I'm aware, only Albus knows. And you could be Professor Lee for all he cares."
"I mean," I amended my question, "Why does he think I'm capably of such a thing?"
"That's a rather obvious answer," Remus tried to shrug off my question. I glared and he continued. "I remember a certain Dumbledore's Army which points to you being a more than competent teacher. Also . . . Well, you know you're Defense. That's sort of obvious."
Damn Remus for being so likable. It was impossible to scowl at his remark. "It's not like I needed much Defense in the end, though. . . ." I kept the images at bay, no need to relive those right now.
"Do you mind if I ask . . ." His sense of curiosity prompted the question, but that of privacy stopped him from finishing it.
"How?" I took the initiative to finish it for him.
"Yes," he confirmed, nodding.
I sighed. Remus opened his mouth to apologize for asking. Better sooner than later someone would have to know, I resigned.
"I didn't," I said quietly. He closed his mouth.
I paused, long enough for his confusion to settle in. My hands twisted together painfully.
"I gave him mercy," I explained a bit more. Another pause before I elaborated. "I had the chance to kill him, but I couldn't do it. I turned my back and when he tried to kill me, the curse rebounded onto him. Added to his recent Wizard's debt, it was enough."
"He died by his own hand," Remus whispered to himself.
"I would like to think so." I said. I didn't voice to him that I took the fault because that would lead to his rationalizing against me. I'd been through all the reasons before (Prominent factors being that he was a homicidal psycho and had only died because he'd tried to kill me.) and I had no intention of going through them again. My mental state was in enough stress as it currently stood.
"I'm sorry," Remus said sincerely.
His sympathy cut though to me even though I did my best to block it out. I tried to tell myself I didn't want his sympathy, but I did want it. After so long, I needed it. I needed someone to know what happened that night. I wouldn't admit that to myself, though.
He then handed across the table something I never expected to see again, keeping it carefully shielded from prying eyes. Thunder rumbled threateningly outside as I picked up the thin stick of polished wood. That couldn't be a good omen. Nonetheless, I grinned for the first time since receiving that owl.
"Where --?" I began to ask, but couldn't form the question.
"Albus was keeping it. That night he picked it up before the Ministry's crew arrived and could confiscate it as evidence. Its brother was destroyed --"
I nodded, dejected as the images flashed through my mind: Me dropping my wand as I turned my back, Voldemort's curse unable to leave the tip of his. . . .
The wand seemed as happy to see me as I it. It was collecting fresh power from the surroundings and a surge of power flowed through me. Before the power reached the point of needing release, I quickly stashed it in my back pocket. At Remus's knowing smile I shook my head in amusement.
"Come on!" I said in mock outrage. "The only person who ever lost a buttocks that way was Mundungus himself."
Remus merely rolled his eyes. A barrier seemed to shift from between us, and though neither of us spoke, the silence following was that of friends.
"So," Remus said after a few minutes, trying to sound professional and failing miserably. I raised an eyebrow in interest. "Have you given this . . . er, offer . . . much thought?"
"Three days of nothing else," I answered. "And I'm no closer to reaching a decision than I was when I began."
Remus wasn't helping my piece of mind at all on the choice in front of me either. My intentions for the meeting had been to prove myself just how much I did not want to return to the Wizarding World, say a resound "no", and never look back. These had been thrown out the third story window the moment I saw Remus enter and now they were currently being run over repeatedly by the Knight Bus. Amazingly, they were still screaming to be saved. I spent so much effort in avoiding this world, and now this werewolf made my resolves waver. And Dumbledore had planned this.
I had wanted to confirm that the Wizarding World did not need nor want me. I wanted to abandon it just as it had abandoned me. But proof against all of this rested in Remus, now sitting before me. Remus, whom I had left without a second thought and hadn't even cared to say Goodbye. And this man was willing to forgive me all that and more. He showed me no malice or hurt, merely understanding. And, damn it, understanding was what I needed after so long.
Why hadn't Dumbledore sent Snape? But my thoughts wavered once more. He could have easily sent the packet with an owl, too. And it's easier still to turn down an owl than an actual person. He had planned all of this and calculated all my reactions, the bastard, and there was no way I could get out of this now. Even as I knew I was being manipulated, I couldn't stop it.
I faltered in my thoughts. Dumbledore was flat out telling me, through this, that I had no better choice to make. But I couldn't accept that just yet.
"I just . . ." My mind stumbled for words. "I just need someone to tell me that I made the right choice."
I avoided Remus's eyes, and stared instead into my swirling coffee. Hypnotically beautiful in the stormy din of the cafe.
"You did," Remus said. In his tone I could tell that he wasn't just telling me what I wanted to hear. "If only because it was your own, you made the right choice. But you can't avoid your past forever. As sure as you felt it when you touched your wand, you are a wizard. If you want to leave Harry Potter behind, so be it, but don't forget who you are inside because in the end that's all that matters."
He paused, trying to get my eyes to look up at him. When I didn't movie he continued: "I ask you for Sirius's sake, Harry--Oedipus. Come back . . . under any name. Just don't keep on denying yourself who you truly are."
I looked up into his eyes. They revealed all the pain he'd suffered, physically and mentally, his whole life. His hand dealt in life had been much harder than mine, and he still managed.
He, also, was singled out in the Wizarding World for an aspect he could not control. He had lived as a Muggle. It made his transformations at the time so much harder than normal. In the Muggle world, there are no healing potions to help the day after. Slowly, his health had diminished until he had resigned himself to his fate as an outcast and returned to the hidden world. Shortly after, Dumbledore offered him the same post I was being offered now.
"Have you slept recently?" He asked, taking me by surprise.
I thought that would have been obvious to anyone who saw my appearance. At my startled expression he smiled. Like he had done with my wand, a vial was pushed casually across the table. Snape's sharp writing proclaimed: "Dreamless Sleep -- SS 8/03"
He shrugged. "You have to admit, there are advantages."
"How many people does Dumbledore have trying to recruit me?"
"I doubt Snape knew of the circumstances or the receiver, otherwise I may not have passed it on to you ."
"That's reassuring," I said sarcastically. His mischievous grin showed that he, also, had thought of along the same lines of "accidental" poisoning.
He glanced quickly at his watch.
"Another meeting?" I asked. He was willing to talk all day, but I wanted an excuse to be alone -- even if it were Remus's own.
He scowled at my playfully. He hadn't wanted me to see the glance.
"Luna Lovegood --" He went to explain, but I cut him off.
"The Wormtail article? Dumbledore sent it to me." I added at his questioning look.
"Yes. I expect Albus wants to remind you of the yet unresolved. And of what you can possibly help with -- he has some interesting theoretical ideas that I'll leave him to say. As far as I can tell it involves a transfer of power or something connected with the Dark Mark and your scar -- "
I could feel his eyes scanning my forehead.
"Muggle make-up," I said, not wanting to draw it out.
He saw my discomfort and switched the topic back. "Anyroad, I want to remind Luna of your interview with Skeeter where you listed the Death Eaters you knew of. Wormtail was overlooked at the time. I don't even know if that name is on any of the Ministry's "lists." Also, I want to give her an anonymous alternative account for Sirius's innocence. It can't hurt. The Quibbler's reputation is starting to change, at any rate. But it can wait if you want to --"
"No, you should go. It can do some good and Luna's not one to stand up."
"Are you sure?"
Well, I wouldn't have said it otherwise. I nodded. "I need to think . . ."
"Albus'll need your answer . . ." He offered a kind smile. Those smiles always got to me. My resolve was failing fast and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
"He already knows it," I said resentfully. As an afterthought added, " But, I'll give him it formally soon. I just . . . don't want to admit it yet. Mental overload, I guess."
"Sleep on it." He motioned towards the vial as he stood up to leave.
We shook hands formally, but he pulled me closer, laughing lowly.
"Hope to see you soon, Oedipus."
"Either way," I replied. I had left Remus once and wouldn't do it again--I blamed the smile.
He left and I followed soon after. The rain had increased slightly; it didn't strike me as a pleasant sign.
I walked for a bit, removed from the crowd around me, lost in my own thoughts. They all smiled ignorantly and went along with a life of their own choosing. I considered rejecting it all out of spite, but that wasn't a satisfying reason for my conscious.
The world around me went on with the day, but could not be a part of that no matter how hard I had been trying these last years. My past haunted me still. It always would.
Remus was right, I could not deny myself who I truly was. I could not be a part of the Muggle world. He knew this from his own life. No matter how hard I had tried these last years, my past still lingered on the edge.
So, my option came down to a clear yea or nay.
Nay: I would go on with this, wander with no destination in mind, hide from my past, face my dreams and my turmoil at night. But, this was my own choice. Here no one knew my name and I was just another face in the crowd (A crowd I could not be an active part of). I liked the anonymity. Also, I wouldn't have to face Dumbledore's manipulations.
Yea: I would go to Hogwarts, teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, reenter the Wizarding World, sleep at night. Not to mention the people I had left behind without caring for, Remus being the main figure among them. Perhaps others would reenter my acquaintances, or perhaps not. Also, anonymity was possible. Oedipus Lee was far away from the last pictures of Harry Potter (Longer hair, hidden scar, different glasses, dulled eyes . . . and it had been five years since anyone had seen Harry Potter) and if I presented myself in such light, no one would be the wiser.
But I didn't want to turn back. To face my past would be a bitter turn after locking it away for so long. And the society of the Wizarding World would never learn from its mistakes. So much better to let it rot behind me instead of in front of me. There was nothing I could do to stop it. I wondered, briefly, if Hermione had yet figured this out.
There was also Voldemort's power. I felt that hidden power stir within me even now. It had surged when I touched my wand. And that power drew me to it; The Dark I harbored inside was inescapable. It was so pleasurable in its absence of morals, so addicting. I didn't know if I would be able to keep the Dark suppressed inside me if I once again used my wand. Could I take that risk?
I saw dingy sign for The Leaky Cauldron out of the corner of my eye. The presence of the building only separated me more from the Muggles around me. Without a second glance, I passed it by.
Could I go back again even for Sirius's sake?