Chapter 6: Harry, Murderer?

After the SuperFly, Harry took part in race after race. In the three weeks of the holidays before the Andros term started, he didn't go four days without taking his place on the starting grid. He wouldn't be able to race while at Auror college, of course, but he had promised to practise in his free time and anyway, there were plenty of holidays.

It was now the Friday before Harry was due to leave for Andros. He had won in the last race, a quick ten-lap track affair, and was now celebrating with Ron and Hermione at a table in the Leaky Cauldron.

"I'm not looking forward to when we do racing in Physical Training," smiled Ron. "We'll be thrashed."

Harry grinned back. "Oh, I'm not that good. Half a second slower and I wouldn't have won the bronze."

Ron grabbed an abandoned copy of the Daily Prophet from the next table, and scanned the back page. "Eleventh in the table," he murmured. He turned over. "Look! A piece on you!"

Harry looked. Sure enough, the paper had run a story detailing his rapid rise to the top sporting levels in the past few weeks.

"Number twenty-second in the world already," Ron commented. "Not bad after –"

"Eight races," Harry supplied.

"Yeah," said Ron. "Eight races. And in the top three in seven of them."

"Don't let all of this get to your head, Harry," Hermione cautioned. "You have packed all your college stuff, haven't you?"

"Yes," said Harry. "Professor Gabriel's picking us up tomorrow."

"I know. Ron has told me."

"Yeah, of course."

"Isn't there any real news?" asked Hermione.

Ron turned over to the front of the newspaper. "Oh yes, that murderer's been captured. One who killed that old witch." He scanned the article "He went into a Muggle café, and was spotted by a wizard!"

"Anything else?" Hermione questioned.

"Well – er – the ICW are proposing this new law, and some Muggle walked into a dragon reserve and got away and told everyone about it – and Floo Network employees are threatening to strike … the usual."

"Yes," agreed Hermione. "Give it here." Ron passed her the newspaper, and she started reading it intently.

Harry drained his glass. "Get us some more Firewhisky, Ron," he asked. "I think I can handle another bottle – just a small one."

"Ogden's?" asked Ron.

"Yes, please."

Ron got up and went over to the bar. He returned a minute later with a steaming bottle of fiery liquid, and poured it into glasses.

"That guy's going to get a long time in jail," he said, gesturing towards the newspaper, which was now obscuring Hermione's face.

Harry remained silent.

"You okay?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied, and paused. Then, "I killed him, didn't I?"

"Who?" asked Ron, who obviously had no idea of what Harry was talking about.

"Voldemort," said Harry strongly, with a tinge of anger. Ron shuddered involuntarily. "Who else? He's dead, because of me! I'm a murderer."

Ron held his hands out, palms upwards, and mouthed a few indistinguishable words. "Er – it's happened Harry. That was ages ago. Put it behind you."

"I tried," said Harry. "I've spent the last year trying to ignore the fact that I killed another human being."

"He wasn't human, Harry, he was a mutant!" laughed Ron, but stopped when he saw the look on Harry's face. "Okay, I get your point. Er – Hermione?"

She looked up, annoyed.

"Harry's convinced he should be sent to jail, or executed, or something," Ron explained. "Tell him – tell him he had no choice."

"Harry –" began Hermione. "He was trying to kill you as well, remember? It was self-defence. Erm – you've coped with it all this time, surely you've realised that? Look – he killed loads of people. Your parents!"

"Two wrongs don't make a right," said Harry. "I still killed him."

"Not really," said Ron slyly. Harry looked up.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well," Ron paused for effect. "It's not like you used Avada Kedavra, or stabbed him, or strangled him or anything. You just used Legilimency to make him remember all the kind and loving things anyone had ever done to him and –"

"He couldn't cope," finished Hermione. "See. Had it been any normal person, he wouldn't have had a problem."

Harry nodded, but he didn't feel any better.

"Look Harry, if Pettigrew hadn't intervened at the last second, he'd've killed you. You'd never have got that chance to get rid of him."

"Yeah."

"And just think –" said Ron, "if he was still alive, I'd be dead, and you'd be dead and Hermione'd be dead and most of Hogwarts would be dead, and –" He broke off. "You saved hundreds of lives."

"Nobody's charged you with anything, have they?" Hermione observed. "It was a war. You have to do these things!"

Harry was thinking about how different everything could have been. What if Pettigrew hadn't knocked Voldemort to the floor at just the second he was about to curse Harry, and made him lose his wand, not to mention his concentration? What if Draco Malfoy hadn't chickened out when his father had ordered him to kill Ron? What if Dumbledore hadn't broken free from his enforced enchantment at just the right time to come to Hogwarts, as Voldemort's Death Eaters were either trying to escape or trying greedily to take the position of their former master?

"I suppose you're right," he said.