39. The Art of Deduction
Harry smiled at the little squeal of happiness from the small boy who just had gotten his dream bedroom. He watched as the boy ran across the floor and jumped up into the big, soft bed amongst clouds and flying creatures on the walls. There were dragons, Hippogriffs, Fairies, Pixies, several types of winged horses, some people on brooms, birds, even some Thestrals flying lazily around on the soft, blue walls. The boy hugged the dark blue duvet to his chest and watched as a big Chinese Fireball dragon flew by on the wall next to him.
Harry had had to learn quite a few new charms to be able to make something like this, but the result was good, and brittle happiness radiated off the boy and the two parents in the doorway. It was less than a week since the funeral for their other child, an older girl that had died in the Battle of Hogsmeade, defending her baby brother with her life. She had died a hero, and that meant shit to the grieving family. Sure, they were happy that they still had a living child, but having survived the war until the peace treaty had been signed, they should by rights had two. They should never have lost their daughter.
And there was nothing Harry or anyone else could do about that enormous grief. He had gone to the funeral, to all the funerals, together with Voldemort, Astoria and Draco. He had attended the meetings where they discussed how to stop it from ever happening again. And he had raised this house in Hogsmeade for them the first chance he got, after the new ward stones for both the tent camp and the village were done … And it was not enough, it would never be enough. The grief would fade with sufficient time, it always did, somehow, but the loss would leave a hole in their life for as long as they lived. Always remembered, always missed, always held so very dear.
"Thank you, Mr. Potter, thank you so much!" The boy jumped out of the bed and ran towards Harry, but seeing the tear-streaked faces of his parents, the boy suddenly remembered his sister again, and he froze. Tears abruptly started streaming down his face.
"Agatha would have … would have liked it too, and she … she would have liked a room of her own," he mumbled, sniffling. "She never had that …" He blinked through the tears. "She never got that …"
"You are allowed to be happy, even if your sister isn't here to share the happiness with you," Harry said in a low voice and put one knee on the floor to be closer in height to the boy. "She loved you, there can't be any doubt about that. She would have wanted you to be happy, when you can, even if she isn't here with you."
"Oh yes," the mother said through her tears. "She would have been so happy for you, my darling boy, so happy to see you smile."
The boy ran to his mother and burrowed his face into her robes. She hugged him hard and the father looked at Harry.
"Thank you so much for all this, Mr. Potter. It does not … it does not solve … anything … but I, we, hope that it will make it easier to find some sort of new normal. In a while."
"Yes," Harry agreed and got up, "in a while. I will see you all in the village square in about forty-five minutes?"
"Absolutely. I need to learn to cast the Patronus Charm," the father said decisively.
They all knew that things might have been different if the tent camp had been able to get help faster. In such situations every single minute counted. Harry would make very sure to not sound like he blamed anyone when he began the instructions. People didn't need to feel more guilt than they already did.
"Not everyone will be able to learn, but when I'm done with you all, it will only be those that truly don't have enough magical power and thus cannot learn, that can't cast the charm. Everyone else will cast a corporeal Patronus so calling for help will be easier, even if I have to train you for the next seven years."
The Dementors were gone for good, or if they suddenly should appear somewhere again, Harry had no compunction whatsoever with using Fiendfyre on the creatures again. No one deserved to live close to those creatures, absolutely no one, and now everyone was scarred and broken after a long war. Anyone would be a veritable feast of grief and pain for the Dementors. No, Harry would exterminate them as many times as he had to, or Hermione would be more than happy to do it for him if he couldn't get away to do it. Hell, she probably would beat him to it, anyway. It was her abhorrence for the creatures that had opened his own eyes, after all.
Getting people to learn the Patronus Charm now was for a different kind of defence.
"Thank you," the mother said, and Harry nodded at her before he left the new building, Draco and Susan at his sides and Severus trailing them. Harry didn't much like the man, but he seemed to have discovered the art of shutting up during the war, and didn't try to be agonistic anymore. Harry suspected that Voldemort or Astoria had had something to do with the man's improved attitude, but he didn't care, he just wanted to be spared his scathing remarks.
They went to the new tavern in Hogsmeade, The Purple Dragon, The Dragon for short. Harry had laughed when Astoria had informed him that there had been a vote, and that The Purple Dragon had won by a mile. The sign above the door was, of course, a purple dragon figurine that flew around in the air and now and again spat jets of flame. It was a bit of excellent spell work.
Inside the tavern Draco led the way to a corner booth and sat down, Harry sat on the same bench with Susan opposite them. Severus sat down on a chair next to the wall, so as not to be cornered and have a good view of the people in the tavern and the people who came in. They had already made their order before they went to build the last house for the day, so the food and drink was served within minutes of their arrival.
Draco had told Harry that he had gotten orders from Astoria, both as his superior in the Death Eaters and as his wife, to make sure that Harry both rested and ate during the day. And Susan had admitted that she had been asked to take on nagging duty, if Harry got stubborn, seeing as Astoria herself was cooped up in meetings at the Ministry and Susan had the afternoon free. Faced with such adversity as that, Harry had bowed out as gracefully as he possibly could. He had rolled his eyes a time or two, but Susan hadn't had to nag at him to take a breather.
The food was a simple stew and fresh baked garlic bread, but it was both tasty and filling and Harry drank the butterbeer slowly, enjoying every sip. It was the first he had had since the day he got married. The brewery was about ready to begin mass production again, but still people could only order so much at any given time, and the bottles were smaller than before. The price should be possible for most people to pay, at least now and again.
Voldemort had made a deal with the goblins of Gringotts to give out loans with a lot smaller fees than usual. Harry wasn't certain, but he believed Voldemort had given the goblins some kind of treasure in return to get them to lower the fees that much. However, he was absolutely certain that these loans made it possible for people to open shops and begin new ventures, or build up old ones, and thus rebuild the Magical World of Britain.
They were all almost finished eating when Severus stiffened and got to his feet. Harry looked up and saw a face he knew, but didn't particularly like.
"Dodge, what a surprise," Severus drawled, his wand held loosely in his hand.
The elderly wizard just sneered at him before focusing on Harry. The sneer transformed into a white-hot rage, but because Harry didn't see him draw his wand, he simply kept his own wand drawn under the table, and pointed at Dodge. No need to begin the hostilities, when the hostilities would start soon enough.
"We trusted you! Albus trusted you!" Dodge hissed. "Damn traitor!"
"Mr. Dodge," Susan began, and Dodge sneered at her too.
"You are a disappointment to your aunt, to your whole family! They died fighting your new leader! How can you work for him!"
"I'm not as much of a disappointment for Amelia, as she is for me, let me tell you," Susan said icily. "And I'm doing what's right, what's best, for my people. The very same thing Harry did."
At that Dodge turned to Harry again, and Susan winced.
"We trusted you, you were supposed to save us! Not turn your back on us!" Dodge was almost shouting.
"Get out, Dodge, there is nothing and no one for you here," Severus said, and Susan nodded and started getting to her feet, probably to show Dodge the door.
"I did save you, as best as I could," Harry told Dodge without batting an eye. He was used to being shouted at by people that believed they knew him and what he should do with his life, better than he did. After all, he had been shouted at, blamed and belittled in one form or another his entire life.
"It was rather late, I will give you that, but now you are safe to live your life as best you can. Same as anyone and everyone else, regardless of affiliation and blood status," Harry continued.
"They will kidnap children! Has anyone told you that! They will kidnap the Muggleborn children! Take them away from their family, forever! Family is important!" He was shouting now, and Susan had taken his arm and tried to turn him away from Harry, but she stopped when Harry got to his feet and stepped up to Dodge.
"Is that what you told yourself when you saw a too small boy, bruised and battered and looking for scraps of food in the bins, all the times you shadowed me as a child? Hmm, Dodge? Family is important? But how they treat their child is not, is that it?
"I know that the Muggleborn children will be placed in suitable magical families, I also know what kind of safety net they will get; after all, that was one of my recommendations to the peace treaty. Non-magicals should not raise magical children; they don't have enough knowledge and understanding of their child's circumstances to do so. And for every incident of accidental magic that occurs around non-magicals, we run a higher risk of being discovered by them.
"So no, Dodge, I did not turn my back on the magical society, even if my actions are not what you would have liked. I did what I had to do to save the most people I possibly could."
"By fucking a monster! Your parent's murderer!" Dodge spat in Harry's face. "They would roll in their graves if they knew!"
Harry removed Dodge's mouth with a silent curse and dried the spittle from his face.
"I know that it's pedantic, but technically, he was their killer, not their murderer. They were combatants in a war, they knew the risks. If he had managed to kill me, he would have been my murderer as I was a child, but my parents were his sworn enemies, not civilians. They had made their choice in the war they fought."
Dodge's eyes shot hate right at him and he tried to make noise without a mouth. It didn't work very well.
Harry had thought about it a lot over the years and talked it over with Hermione several times, and decided that this was a stance he actually was comfortable with. Even if other people were not. He could still hate the fact that his parents had died protecting him, still hate that they hadn't run from the county and left the war behind, still hate that he never got the chance to know them, but it had been war, and Harry knew very well what war did to people.
"I'm going to enjoy a few more minutes in peace before I start the lesson. Do you have him alright, Susan?" Harry asked.
"Of course, I will be right back. Oh, do you want to press charges for harassment and assault? He is old enough to know that he can't go around spitting in people's faces."
Dodge tried to jerk free of Susan's grasp, but didn't get anywhere.
"Would he be more likely to get a fine or community service?" Harry asked.
"Community service for a first offence, I believe. Most likely he would be put to cleaning rubble or painting a new building or something like that. Probably without magic."
"Sounds good, go for it. Tell me how it goes when you know?"
"Sure, sure, be right back."
Harry sat down and drank from his butterbeer. He really wanted to enjoy it for a bit longer. Maybe he should look into getting himself a butterbeer now and again, instead of the wine and harder alcohol the others mostly favoured. It tasted really good warm in the winter months.
Not long after, Susan came back, and they found their way to the village square where the Patronus instructions would take place.
"Susan, would it be possible for me to join you at the Ministry when we are done here?" Harry asked while they walked.
"I have a meeting at five, but I'm free until then. Business or pleasure?"
"Business, I'm afraid. I kind of promised Dragon to look into the child-murder case and inform her if I found anything interesting."
"Harry, you dragged Dragon into this! I know she was there; I even saw her from afar, but Harry … that's not healthy …"
Harry winced, knowing very well what Susan was talking about. But there was no way in Hell that he wouldn't do this. And not just because of Dragon. "You know how she gets when there are children involved, I couldn't very well not offer. She might … she might do something much more drastic …"
Might, he thought dryly. There was nothing uncertain about it.
Susan drew in a deep breath and let it go. "Is there a timeline?"
"No, I simply told her I would look into it."
That too, was true, but he wouldn't stop looking until he found something. He would have begun looking before now, if he truly had believed that he would be allowed to. But now … now he knew that he was allowed to lead in battle, allowed be a warlord, so then he would assume he was allowed to do this too, until a certain someone told him otherwise.
This was worth the risk.
"That's good, at least, I have heard rumours about what happened last time she got too much into something, even if I wasn't here then."
"You do know that you are talking about the dragon as if it's a person, don't you?" Draco said conversationally from Harry's other side.
"She might not be human, but please believe me when I say that she very much has a personality," Susan said pointedly. "One that's better not riled, as she is, as you pointed out, a bloody big dragon!"
"Does her race have a name?" Draco asked.
"I can't answer that," Harry said.
Draco opened his mouth and Harry added, to forestall an interrogation.
"The only thing I can tell you is that her race is absolutely nothing like other dragons. Think about the difference between a wolf and a werewolf. One is an animal, and the other is not at all, for all that they look alike once a month. I'm quite certain Dragon is more than capable of outsmarting me, of outsmarting all the four of us combined. She isn't one we want to be annoyed at us. And the killing of children, younglings, is one of her weak spots. The words 'killing frenzy' comes to mind." Harry shuddered, and that was not at all affected. He was, in general, not afraid of Dragon, but he knew when to be wary.
"Very well," Draco said after a beat. "But you do know that there is already a massive investigation into this? I believe there are more Auror's on this than there are on everything else combined."
"As there should be," Susan said.
"I know, but I gave my word," Harry said, "so I have to try. I will never be able to face her again otherwise."
I will never be able to look myself in the mirror again, either, not that it is easy as it is. There is so much blood on my hands. So much.
Draco nodded and they reached the square where almost the whole village had gathered for their first lesson in the Patronus Charm. Harry had circulated informational pamphlets about the charm for a few days, both here and in the Magical District in London, and in a few days he would have a similar lesson in the Magical District. This he would continue doing for the foreseeable future. One lesson at each place, every other week.
Harry cast Sonorus at himself and stopped in front of the gathered magicals.
"Alright you lot, let us go over the basics and then try the charm. The Patronus Charm takes a lot of magic so if you are unsure if you are capable of casting it, come by me and I will check you out. If lack of power makes it hard for you to cast it, you are free to go." Harry knew that this was where he would lose the most people. After all, at fifteen he had tried to teach about fifty school children to cast the charm and when he was done, almost twenty of those hadn't been able to cast it, because of power. "If you have enough power to cast it, I want you to work at it for at least a year before giving up for any other reason. Most people use about six to eight months to learn. I will teach anyone who is capable and willing to try, for as long as they need.
"Now, the general consensus is that you need a happy memory to cast the Patronus, and sure, a happy memory works, but so does simple happiness, even hope for or a wish for happiness. Use what makes you happy, even if it's something that never happened. And yes, I know that both happy memories and general happiness is hard to come by nowadays, but don't let that stop you. Happiness can be true contentment, relief and self-satisfaction. Hell, I'm able to cast a Patronus from the memories of surviving a particularly vicious battle, the relief was that great. Happiness comes in many shapes and forms. What would make you happy today? Questions?"
One woman's hand shot up.
"Yes?"
The woman took one step forward. "Mr. Potter, what about those of us that has a … penchant for Dark magic? Are we even able to cast such a Light charm?"
"Sure, if you have the power and the will. In a typical group of people about two in five won't be able to cast it because of power. One in five won't find the focus or the will, but the last two will be able to cast it given enough work and time. What kind of magic you usually use or what affiliation you had in the war is of no matter."
The witch swallowed and he could see doubt in her eyes.
"The rumours about Dark magicals not being able to cast a Patronus is Light propaganda," Harry said in a mild voice. "Yes, we are born with different magical cores, but that only signify what kind of magic we will find easiest to cast, and most spells are neutral anyway, so it doesn't matter. If you have a Dark core, you might find it a bit harder to cast a Patronus, but far from impossible and even if you never succeed, you won't be punished by magic for trying."
The witch nodded and stepped back. There were no more questions after that.
The instruction and practice continued for another hour and a half before Harry broke it up. Several people could already conjure a non-corporeal Patronus, but almost seventy people had been released from trying because they simply weren't strong enough. Harry knew there would be more people that weren't strong enough, but if they wanted to try, then Harry wouldn't stop them. They might end up surprising both him and themselves, given the chance.
It wouldn't be the first time.
Harry, Draco and Severus followed Susan to the Ministry, but Severus and Draco agreed to stay outside Susans office, so Harry could talk with Susan alone. He got copies of all the information Susan and her Auror's had gathered since the murders started, no less than seven big boxes with parchment. Harry thanked her and went back to the Manor.
He nodded at Draco and Severus before he found his way to the wing he shared with Voldemort. The man was at the Ministry, so Nagini was the only one in the wing. After going through eight rooms, Harry found one that suited his plans. A big drawing room with several big windows and little in the way of paintings on the walls or furniture. After getting help from Dobby and Opal, the walls were bare, and the only furniture was one big table in the middle of the room with four chairs.
Opal and Dobby popped back in after Harry sent them away with thanks, and with a defiant look Opal put an enormous, shaggy green carpet on the floor beneath the table and chairs. Dobby looked mutinously at Harry while setting a tea set with scones and biscuits on the table before snapping his fingers so the fire in the cold fireplace roared to life and spread warmth through the room. Both elves bowed and popped away without a word.
Harry smiled and poured himself some tea. He was beginning to not only respect and like, but also love the house elves, just a little bit, for wanting to take care of their people, and him, and not taking no for an answer when they did that job.
After a short tea break Harry began to sort through all the information he now had on the child murderers and what they had done. Before dinner he knew all about the places and families they had hit since their gruesome crusade had begun.
During the next day he found the facts about how every attack had happened. How they had attacked, how they had gotten through the protections, what magic they had used and how the defenders had tried and often failed to keep them back. He got so mentally and emotionally exhausted by reading about the different carnages that he asked Voldemort for a break as soon as dinner was over, and fell asleep in the man's arms, yet again. He had almost gotten used to it by now, as it happened nearly every time he asked for this kind of break. He didn't mind anymore, neither did Voldemort. Harry had made sure to ask him about it.
The same happened the three following days while Harry worked his way through all the information and put it up in his own system on the walls of the room he had chosen to work in. Voldemort didn't complain about the fact that Harry used him as a mental crutch. Only once did he ask if Harry maybe should let the Auror's do their job and do something else himself. When Harry told him about the promise to Dragon, and the fact that he did it for his own peace of mind too, even if that peace of mind was in the future and not right now, Voldemort let it rest.
Deep in the back of his mind Harry noted how good it felt to be respected for his choices by someone else than Hermione. It had happened precious little during the war by anyone in an equal or higher position than him, and even less while he grew up.
After a week of almost continuous work, Harry knew who had been killed, where and when they had been killed, he knew what magic had been used and he knew what tactics had been employed. He knew the name of the five culprits that had been killed in the Battle of Hogsmeade, as that was the only time anyone had been killed or detained, not that those who had survived their detention survived long after that. Harry still didn't know how the suicides had performed that piece of abhorrent magic. He knew that whoever was behind this was both very knowledgeable in magic and wards, a good tactician and absolutely above average in magical power.
Now it was time to look at why. If he assumed that this was one group - and he had to assume that, for two equally big groups with the same goal could not possibly be able to hide its members this long -, then he had to assume that they had a reason for suddenly killing children after so many years of war. Why children? Did they want to end Britain's Magical World once and for all, exhausted by war and strife? Was every child killed a child of their enemies? How could that be, when children from both sides had been killed?
He thought about it for some days before he made contact with Susan and asked about all the information the Ministry had about all the children that had been killed in the war, before the first attack of the child-murderers. She came with the information herself, but held back the box when Harry reached for it.
"You know something," she stated, looking into Harry's eyes.
"No, I don't, not yet."
"Will you tell me when you do? I am the Head of DMLE, if you recall."
"If I can, I will, but I … might not be able to." After all, he had promised Dragon, and he wasn't certain about anything at this point.
"We are not at war anymore, Harry, none of us can take the law into our own hands any longer, no matter how much we might want to."
Harry nodded, but didn't say anything. Susan knew him, she knew Dragon, she knew that he would not make a promise just to break it later. So, he would not make a promise at all, this time.
Susan grimaced and gave him the box. "I'm still mad at you for using Fiendfyre around civilians like that."
"You know I can control it. Coffee on me next week, or when I get my head out of this project? I have gotten an offer for making and furnishing a new restaurant in the District and they are willing to wait until I'm able to do it. We can meet up that day, maybe?"
"Of course they are willing to wait for The-Boy-Who-Lived to do the task, that's a lot of free advertising right there. Tell me when, and I will do my very best to be there."
Harry nodded and Susan left. Minutes later Harry was buried in the new information, and he hated every moment of it. His name was on one of the lists. The list of people that had lost children close to them. He still remembered the day he had gotten the message. It was one of the top five of the worst days during the war, right up there with the day he thought he would lose Hermione to the curse which ultimately took her eye. It had been an attack on Diagon Alley. The Dark had started it, but the Light had answered in a way that quickly made the battle spin completely out of control.
He had not been there. He had not been able to help. To protect …
Two of the civilian casualties that day had been Nymphadora and Teddy Lupin. Tonks, as she still had preferred to be called, had withdrawn from the fighting only months before, because Andromeda had insisted, and had even threatened that she wouldn't take care of Teddy for her, when Tonks went out to fight. Andromeda had been there, that day, and as far as Harry knew, she was still alive. He doubted that she did well, when she had lost both her husband, her daughter, and her grandson in just a few years. Both he and Hermione assumed Remus to be dead. Neither had heard anything from him since the funerals and it was too easy to get yourself killed during a war when you were mad with grief.
There was a lot of children's names on those lists, even before the child-murderers.
A lot.
Harry went over the lists with a fine-toothed comb, several times, and checked names up against lists he had made that first week and made new lists.
He would turn every stone a hundred times, if that was what it took to figure this out and stop it.
XXXXX
Four weeks after the Battle of Hogsmeade, Harry sat with his face in his hands and tried to remember how to breathe. He had to be wrong. He couldn't possibly be right, but … No, no, there was no chance he had this right, it just couldn't be …
He looked over the final list he had made. He knew that the child-murderers could choose to attack again at any time. Their loss in the last battle might make them more daring, more desperate. If he was right, he couldn't hold on to this information. He couldn't.
But he couldn't be right. That wasn't possible.
And still …
Still …
He began to sort through all his papers, all his lists, and found the pertinent ones. He gathered them all in one box and shrunk it and warded it heavily before he grabbed a piece of blank parchment and a quill. After a hesitation he wrote the note.
Darling,
I have been looking for clues for weeks now and I am afraid I have found some.
Please go through these for me and tell me I'm wrong.
Please tell me I'm wrong.
If not … go fetch.
With love, always,
H
Harry hesitated and closed his eyes for a moment before he wrote a postscript. He had to give a hint as to what he feared, after all, without giving too much away, in case the owl was intercepted. The postscript would also make it obvious that it was he who sent the package.
P.S. When a good man goes to war. **
The only message Harry had sent Hermione so far was a Patronus on her birthday, because nothing would stop him from doing that. He knew he could send Hermione messages through Susan, because while they hadn't talked openly about it, the fact that Susan and Hermione were in contact it had been mentioned in passing.
But that had never been their plan. Their plan had been for the long haul, for when they could get in touch and stay in touch, openly. So far, he hadn't really dared to think about it, because it had been too far into the future and thinking about it would hurt too much, but now … Now he was ready to hope that it would be possible, soon.
This letter might not be what he most wanted to send to Hermione in the first real message he had sent her in months, but needs must. Hermione would understand better than anyone else possibly could. Besides, this message, and the timing, was close to perfect. Up till this point he had been uncertain about whether or not he was allowed to have company outside the people who lived at the Manor, but now he met Susan at least once a week, outside of official meetings and work. No one had ever tried to stop him or tried to question him about what they talked about. Of course, it was possible that Hermione wasn't on the approved company list. But if this owl was intercepted and Harry was questioned about it, he could honestly tell them that he wanted Hermione's view on this problem.
It was a test, in more than one way.
And now he dared to hope in a way he hadn't before. In a way he hadn't hoped at all back in the beginning of the marriage. Hermione had been the one to hope, the one to plan, the one to tell him that things would work out, because she refused it to be otherwise. She had been able to say that, to hold on to that hope, even after a bloody and brutal war.
She was a wonder.
He missed her. So much.
After tidying up his notes and emptying the whole room, Harry went to the owlery and sent the message and the small box with a pale, beautiful barn owl.
Then he went to Astoria's study and knocked, she answered immediately, and he went in.
"Harry," she said with a gentle smile, "ready to join the living again?"
"I don't know," he sat down heavily in a chair across from her desk. "Do I look alive?"
"Yes, but also quite exhausted."
Harry nodded. "Want to do some rounds with duelling cards after tea? It's been weeks since last time, and I … need to not think for a while."
She studied him for a long moment. "I would like that very much."
Now all he could do was wait.
A/N:
**This is from a Dr Who episode that was first aired in 2011, which is, in terms of this story's timeline, after this chapter. I decided that Harry and Hermi are fans of both fantasy and science fiction shows and books, and that the real-life timeline is unimportant. Hope that works well enough for people.
And yes, this means that the time for reintroducing Hermi in Harry's life is getting closer. Not there just yet, but we are getting there.
Thank you so much for the comments, the favs and the follows! They are much appreciated! I love to hear what you think about the story and the characters! It makes writing this story even more fun! Each and every comment makes me smile!
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