Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything in the HP Universe.

AN: Thank you all for reading, following, favouring and reviewing. You all deserve hugs and salted-caramel ice-cream.

In the last weeks my beta, a-bit-of-madness, and I edited the nine chapters so far and finally we caught up and can present you a new AND already beta'ed chapter.

Many many thanks and hugs for a-bit-of-madness, with her help I think the story is flowing so much better.

I only wanted to say that I am still working on all my stories, but November is a really emotional bad month because of the unexpected death of a young family member two years ago, therefore I only had the energy to go over the beta'ed chapters a-bit-of-madness send me and edit them. But now I am on a four weeks holiday from my very demanding job and can relax and I hope to get back on track.

Have fun reading and I wish you all a wonderful Christmas time.

On with the story.

Chapter 10: Ron's letter

Severus found Lucius in his favourite tea room of Malfoy Manor, parchments in hand and tea at his side.

"Lucius, care for company?"

The blond looked up, greeted him with a nod and a gesture to sit down, while putting his reading material on top of a pile of parchment and books covering a side table.

"Work?" Severus eyed the parchment.

"In a way. I looked through everything I need to give to my solicitor to present my case in front of the Wizengamot. Depending on the outcome of today's trial I will contact him tomorrow."

"How do you think the Wizengamot session will go?" Severus enquired, calling for a house-elf to bring him some coffee with a shot of rum - he needed something stronger then tea in the moment.

"Long and nasty," Lucius said with a grin. "I have no doubt that Dumbledore will try to take control of the trial the moment he realizes who is standing before him and try to find a loophole in the law to prevent our Lord from being declared innocent. But having Madam Bones on our side is certainly an advantage. She convened this emergency meeting and will present the case. That she was willing to do it immediately shows the evidence Lord Nott presented her with was at least good enough to warrant a trial, if not totally convincing. I am sure she is highly displeased with our Lord, but she will see that the law is followed to the letter." Lucius smirked.

"It could also mean that Madam Bones wanted to take the opportunity to bring our Lord to justice," Severus pointed out.

"I think it is both, but in the end, she will see that the law is upheld, and I doubt that our Lord would have went this way without one hundred percent fool proof evidence."

Severus sighed and sipped his coffee, the warmth of the drink and the alcohol soothing his nerves. "I really hope so, my friend."

They sat together and talked about Severus newest research interest and Lucius' plan to invest in a new, young racing broom company. At one point a house-elf brought the afternoon tea, with sandwiches, pastries and cake.

"Tell my son that his godfather is here and that we are having afternoon tea. We would appreciate his presence." Lucius addressed the house-elf, who's huge eyes became even larger as she interlocked her long fingers in worry.

"Tally can't do this. Tally is sorry. Tally can't follow master's orders." The house-elf's voice pitched and quivered.

"Why not?" Lucius snapped at her impatiently.

Severus sighed as Lucius snapped at the elf. The man had no patience for house-elves who did not follow orders immediately, even if they had a good reason not to, or with house-elves in general.

Narcissa was the one who had the most contact with their house-elves. She oversaw the household, the household budget, the daily work, the workers and house-elves and the punishments if one was needed. He never bothered with the elves as long as they did their job adequately and followed his orders.

But if they dared to disobey him, he was known to lose his temper. Disobedience was something Lucius could not tolerate or handle, especially from someone so far beneath his notice. Severus always had the impression that servants and house-elves were on equal level to the furniture, if furniture could talk, for Lucius. He spared them no thoughts and had never understood that a happy and well-treated servant was a loyal servant.

Severus had thought that the blonde had at least learned after the debacle with one of his house-elves a few years ago. He did not know exactly what had happened, only that the elf disappeared afterwards, and that Potter had been somehow involved. Potter again…

Severus shook his head and shifted his attention back to the house-elf.

"Master Draco has locked himself in the Library. Tally's bringing him food but not allowed to disturb further. Master Draco's orders. He's not to be disturbed."

At least Narcissa had managed to teach her house-elves better speech patterns than the average house-elf, for which Severus was grateful. The Hogwarts elves often caused him a headache.

Lucius looked surprised. "Locked in the Library?"

The elf nodded, and his big ears flopped up and down. "Yes, Master Lucius."

"To do what?"

"Tally does not know. Master Draco not telling."

Lucius exchanged a glance with Severus and waved the house-elf away.

"Perhaps some especially difficult homework?" The blond mused, Severus could not supress a snort at that and reached for the teapot to pour himself a cup, adding a lemon and a little bit sugar to it.

"Please, Lucius, you know that Draco is one of the top students in his year and I know what summer homework was assigned. He told me last week that he finished it all already. Perhaps an individual or private project?"

"Easiest way to find out would be to ask him."

"You know your son. If he is obsessing over something he will not be in a good mood when interrupted. Let's wait till Dinner, if he has not emerged from the Library by then, we will talk with him. I do not want to encounter an angry Draco. He will be ranting and whining if we disturb him in whatever he is obsessed with in the moment." Severus shuddered a little.

Draco's tantrums were as legendary as his obsessions.

Lucius inclined his head, then smirked at his friend. "Do you remember when he was five and was absolutely certain that you were a vampire?"

Severus laughed. "Oh yes, he was completely convinced with the idea. Followed me whenever he could and tried to explain that I did not realize it so far. He went so far as to forbid me to go outside in fear I would crumble to ashes under the sun."

Both men laughed at the memory.

"Or when he was ten and certain you had Veela ancestors?" Severus grinned and took a sip of his tea.

"Oh yes, I remember that particular phase. Drove Narcissa and I absolutely mad. He barricaded himself in the library and went through all the Malfoy family records. He was devasted when he could not find Veelas in our family tree." Lucius smiled. "Didn't speak with us for days, as if it was our fault."

"But the biggest obsession so far is certainly Potter, it's been going for five years now and even as a child he loved to hear the stories of Harry Potter," the Potions Master sneered. "He can't leave him alone in school, always tries to get a reaction out of Potter, always tries to be better. This bloody school rivalry destroyed more than one cauldron during my class. Why Draco wants the attention of Potter is beyond me. I certainly would be happy to never have to interact with the arrogant prat ever again."

Lucius groaned. "Don't remind me. Every letter since first-year Potter is mentioned at least twice, complaining and whining about him. It certainly doesn't sound like a typical school rivalry relationship. If Potter had been a girl, or grown up in the old ways, I already would have contacted his guardians and negotiated a betrothal contract with them, just to get Draco to shut up."

"Merlin forbid!" Severus looked horrified by the mere idea. Lucius only laughed at him.

"What? Draco's letters really sound more like he is trying to pull Potter's pigtails." Lucius' expression grew pensive. "Now that Potter is under the protection of our Lord, perhaps I can stir Draco to start a friendship with him. Even if our Lord is sane now, after the disaster at the Ministry the Malfoy's standing in the inner circle is a little shaken. And as we have to play our role of being forced into his service for the public, it would not hurt to be on better terms with Potter."

Severus still looked horrified at his friend. "But Potter wants to disappear."

"You think Dumbledore and our Lord will allow this? He is our Lord's Horcrux. Yes, he wrote he would try to destroy it, but if he really could he would have done it already. Why would he carry a soul-shard of his parents' murderer with him for longer than needed? He would have gotten rid of it at the first possibility. But he did not, he kept it, and sent all the other soul pieces back. As he is a living being like Nagini, with their own souls, I don't think you can separate the soul-shard from the carrier's soul. To destroy such a Horcrux you would have to…" Lucius' head snapped wide-eyed to Severus, who frowned not catching on immediately.

Then realization hit him. "You don't think he will…?"

"What do you think, Severus? You know the boy better than me."

Severus pondered several moments about this.

"No… no, I don't think Potter would go this far. He is much too Gryffindor for this. He is too arrogant, he has all this fame and bathes in it. Why should he throw it away? He has his adoring fans and everything. Why should he throw away his perfect little life? Nothing so far hinted that Potter has suicidal tendencies, neither how he behaves at school and nor anything he put in his letter." Severus assured his friend and himself, but he saw that Lucius was not completely convinced and a nagging feeling, that they had overlooked something, remained in Severus.

They were silent for a few minutes, eating sandwiches and drinking tea. Then Lucius looked at the grandfather clock and grinned.

"They should be in the middle of the meeting by now. I wish I could have witnessed Dumbledore's face when our Lord walked into the chamber, I'm certain it was priceless."

Severus chuckled. "It would have definitely made my day."

Marvolo walked behind Thaddaeus and Madam Bones to the trial chambers of the Wizengamot. The talk with Madam Bones had gone very well.

Oh, he saw how she struggled with herself, with her hate for the name Lord Voldemort, and tried to separate him from the wizard who had terrorized wizarding Britain for so long and killed members of her family. She was not succeeding entirely.

He also saw that she was displeased when she couldn't find any fault in their evidence, or his behaviour. There had been a nearly murderous glint in her eyes when she realized that she couldn't find anything to convict the man who had been Voldemort.

But he also had seen her will to uphold the law, despite her suspicion and personal opinion.

The background story he had spun with Lord Nott was perfect, after all the best lies always contained more than half the truth.

The medical report had not been hard to produce. After Severus had left, Marvolo had called one of his minor Death Eaters, Henley Fawley. He had put on glamours to look snake-like again and ordered him to bring his younger sister, Healer Aurora Fawley. The man had been terrified but had obeyed.

Miss Fawley was not a marked Death Eater, but her brother, her father and her uncle were, and she had helped previously when healing had been needed. She was not his usual healer, but Marvolo had remembered she specialised in dark curses and mind magic.

The young woman had been revolted by his appearance and had a hard time hiding it, which he could not fault her for, and had sworn an oath of secrecy on her life and that of her family. Then everything had been taken care of rather quickly. He had dissipated the glamours, explained to her what he wanted and needed in the medical report, and had even explained the soul splitting to a certain degree, as she performed the necessary medical screening spells.

It was not a surprise that the Horcruxes had left some residue dark magic, so all in all the medical report had not been modified much and was quite accurate.

The Pensieve memories were a different matter altogether. It was very hard to tamper with memories.

The trick was not to change something obvious in the memory, but to disperse the parts nobody should see and put something from another memory in their place. The memories couldn't be artificial, as it would never look natural, but merging one or two memories to fill the gaps left by the vanished parts formed natural looking memories, because everything used was natural, even if they did not originally belong together.

Only a wizard with exceptional skills in Legilimency and Occlumency could ever even try to attempt this, thankfully Marvolo was just such a wizard.

Nobody but himself knew the difference between the real memories and the fabricated ones, and it hadn't looked like Madame Bones or Lord Nott, who had watched them before he went to the Ministry, had noticed anything suspicious.

He had visited India once and even the half-muggle, half-magical village- which had been utterly disgusting. There had even been a cave, but he only had found a dark grimoire in it. Nothing of interest.

The memories containing the incidents in the Ministry and afterwards were harder to put together, because even while possessing Potter he had not realized his own insanity.

He had actually pondered quite a while how to fabricate them, but in the end the solution was as simple as it was brilliant.

He had contact with a sane mind and a whole soul during the possession, and he had seen some of Potters memories, especially as he drove him out with his ridiculously overwhelming feelings.

How someone could feel so much and not go insane was beyond him, even now, when he himself had his ability to feel emotions back, he shuddered a little at the memory. The emotions filling the boy had been so overwhelming and uncontrolled, like a brewing storm, if he had lingered any longer, he was sure he would have been swept away.

He simply used some of the feelings and memories from Potter to fill in the gaps, as they were his own and showed how he had seemingly regained his sanity due to the contact with the boy.

It had worked brilliantly, and Marvolo had a hard time suppressing the smug smile. He needed to maintain his calm mask. It would do him no good to look too confident, or arrogant.

This was important, his whole demeanour would have to be perfect. He had to convince them that he was shocked and felt responsible for the things Lord Voldemort had done, but that nothing that had transpired had been his choice.

The Wizengamot members were already seated when they entered the chambers, and Marvolo's gaze swept over the faces quickly. Narcissa was sitting on the Malfoy seat, just as he'd anticipated, but he didn't linger on her, only continued to find the one face he wanted to see.

Ah, there…

Dumbledore's face was priceless as he caught sight of who entered with Madam Bones and Lord Nott.

The old man went very pale, his mouth opened in shock, or perhaps because he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Marvolo was not even sure if he was breathing.
Oh, how he wished the old goat would choke on one of his lemon drops.

He settled beside Lord Nott on one of the two chairs in the middle of the court room, Madam Bones took her own assigned seat, prepared to explain the reason for the emergency meeting.

Dumbledore, as it seemed, had found his breath again and stood up from his seat.

"Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore calls the seventh Emergency Wizengamot meeting in the year 1996 into order." He tapped his wand thrice on the Wizengamot sign on the desk before him. Wards sprung up and closed the chambers off. Nobody would be able to enter or leave now, either by muggle or magical means.

Dumbledore took his seat and gestured to Madam Bones, seemingly calm and collected, but Marvolo saw the flicker in his eyes and how he tried not to look at him.

Good, it seemed Potter had informed the Headmaster that he had tried to give him back his sanity, but Dumbledore appeared unsure as to if he should believe the boy. The old man tried to gauge if he was sane or not and he was unsure. Was Lord Voldemort sitting before him or Tom Riddle?

He would be in for a surprise, because Marvolo had decided, that he was neither.

"Madam Bones, you have the floor."

Marvolo heard the slight quiver in the old man's voice and smiled inwardly.

Let's see what other reactions he could bring forth from Dumbledore.

Ron glanced around the corner to the open kitchen door, straining to hear where his mother was. The kitchen was silent and when he stepped inside, he saw it was empty. After lunch, his mother had made him degnome the garden – again, and then sent him to do his summer homework, but he could not concentrate. His mind just kept drifting to the pile of letters from Harry. It was so strange and out of character for his best friend. Yes, they exchanged letters, but Harry had never written to all the members of his family. And so many letters the same time?

Technically he shouldn't be sending any letters at all, but Ron knew that Harry was going crazy at the Dursley's, like last summer when nobody had contacted him. When Harry had exploded shortly after arriving at Grimmauld place, Ron had realized how forgotten and abandoned his best mate had felt.

And now – now Harry was left alone again, after losing Sirius.

Ron shook his head, he did not understand the Headmaster's decision to send Harry back to the Dursley's and remind them to keep sending letters to a minimum. Did he not realize the damage it would do?

They had told him that it was a bad idea. That Harry needed to be with people who love him, who understood his grief for his godfather, but Dumbledore had only assured them that Harry would have all the support and peace he needed at home.

As if home was with the Dursley's, Ron snorted silently and shook his head. He knew something was not right and he was worried. The pile of letters only confirmed it.

So, where did his mother put the letters? She had picked the pile up before setting the table for lunch, but where did she put them?

Ron glanced around the kitchen, his eyes finding the drawer where his mother often put magazines, newspapers or correspondence which had been laying on the kitchen table. The letters lay on top of today's newspapers and Ron quickly grabbed the one meant for him, closed the drawer and left the kitchen, the letter hiding in his pocket.

When he was safely in his room, he opened it, unfolded the parchment and settled on his bed to read.

Dear Ron

I am sure you are wondering why I am writing to you and your family. Let's say it's complicated.

First, I must confess something. You remember when we were sitting in the hospital wing at the end of the term? Hermione mentioned the prophecy and that it was a pity it broke.

I couldn't tell you in that moment, but it didn't matter that it broke. Dumbledore told me what it contained, because he knew the content all along. He was present when it was spoken. He told me after we came back from the Ministry.

It talks about the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, born to those who defied him thrice, born at the end of July. It says the Dark Lord will mark him and that neither can live while the other survives.

The gist of it, is that I either will be killed or have to kill Voldemort.

Voldemort had only heard parts of it, that was the reason he attacked on Halloween fifteen years ago and because it backfired, he is – or was – obsessed with learning the whole content.

But Ron, I found a way to fulfil the prophecy without becoming a murderer!

I am sure Dumbledore would have never agreed with my plan, so I told no one and went ahead with it. If you read this, it means I was successful.

The great snake-face is no more, I vanquished him, like the prophecy told.

It does not mean he is dead. You know I am no murderer.

I simply vanquished the safety net he had set up to prevent himself from dying, and I found a way to give him back his sanity.

The safety net he had built was based on parts of his soul, split from the main part and stored in objects, which led to insanity and dehumanization. I found a way to destroy these objects and the soul shards merging with the original one in his body did the rest.

There is only a soul piece left in Nagini, which can only be removed by killing her.

Even if he is an arrogant, power-hungry and sadistic git by nature, he is at least nearly mortal again and can comprehend the shit he's done.

Not even he can approve of the methods he had used to follow his goals. You know I was in his head a lot last school year. So, all the pain and the horrible visions were good for something in the end, because without the connection I would have never found the method to vanquish Lord Voldemort.

The connection via my scar is based on his unstable soul and the killing curse I survived and is also part of this safety net he built, even if it was unintentional.

I will attempt to sever the connection shortly. I want to be completely free of everything. The connection will be destroyed, the prophecy fulfilled, and I hope, Riddle will stop being so homicidal.

If not, kill the snake. Then Riddle will be mortal again, and the Order can defeat him.

So, let's see how he will behave. He was actually a real bastard down in the chamber, but that was only a part of his soul, and I'm not sure how sane it was after being enclosed in a diary for so long.

I know it's not the perfect solution, but the only other would have been for me to kill him. And yes, he may be the murderer of my parents and so many other people, but still, the thought of killing another living being did not sit well with me.

I mean, I couldn't even work up enough hatred to cast a successful Crucio at Bellatrix, and she killed Sirius.

That's not the only reason I'm writing you, though. I… it's really hard to spell it out, but I'm going to try.

Ron, I can't take it anymore. I had a lot of time to think here at the Dursley's without any contact to a decent human.

Now that it's out that I in fact did not lie the whole last year, I am sure the hero worship will sky rocket. I hate it. One second, I'm crazy and going evil, and in the next I am their hero again. I can't take it anymore.

Additionally, I found out some hard truths about Dumbledore and as much as I love and respect him, there are just some things I can't forgive, and I can't stand the thought of having to face him. It's as much his fault as it is mine, that Sirius died.

He made so many mistakes, while making decisions for all of us. I understand that he had a lot of responsibilities, but while thinking of the greater good, he overlooked the actual people.

He was the one to leave me at the Dursley's doorstep. You know how much I hate them, but you don't know all of it. The Dursley do not lock me in and withhold food sometimes, that's the way it always is when I'm here.

I never told you because I was ashamed. The Great Harry Potter, couldn't even protect himself from Muggles…

And Dumbledore left me there and never gave it a second thought. Yes, he has a war to prevent and win, and as the leader there is no one better, but as the one responsible for the welfare of children, he is abysmal.

Think about all the things that have happened since we attended Hogwarts, and then think about what he or any other of the teachers there have done.

What did he actually do for us while Umbridge terrorized the school and tortured students? Nothing!

We were told to keep our heads down and that was it!

So, as hard as it is, and I really will miss you and Hermione more than anyone, I've decided to disappear. I will lay low and vanish and try to come to terms with everything.

I will miss you. You are my best friend, the first friend I ever had.

Did I ever thank you for sitting with me on the first ride to Hogwarts? No?

Then, thank you Ron. You are a good friend, no, you are the best!

Even when we've had our conflicts. I understand how hard it can be to be my friend, and I know you are still ashamed of your actions in our fourth year, but don't beat yourself up over it. There is nothing to forgive. We are all sometimes overcome by our negative emotions.

You were always overlooked as the youngest of the Weasley boys and don't think I did not hear the snide remarks of some of the other student.

But your parents love you, everyone can see it. You are not the leftover son, the son they only had because they still hoped and tried for a girl.

And you don't have to be like your brothers. Be yourself! I like your brothers, but my best friend's name is Ron, not Bill or Charlie.

You have talents none of your brothers have. You are a brilliant strategist, you only need to learn to use it more often outside of chess games. You are brave and kind, generous and honest, funny and protective.

Even if you don't have much, you willingly shared everything you had with me. The most precious of all – your family. I cannot put into words how much that meant to me. I love your family, thank you for inviting me to be part of it.

I know this sound like a goodbye and it is one, even if it is not meant forever, but I have to disappear, my tolerance for the wizarding world is at its end at the moment. Please don't hate me for it.

Love you,

Harry.

Ron stared dumfounded at the letter, trying to make sense of everything written in there.

"What the…" he whispered.

His eyes scanned the letter again, trying to read in between the lines, to find the things Harry did not want to say and perhaps did not even meant to say.

He had the nagging feeling something was not right.

He felt a short spark of anger when he realized that Harry knew of the prophecy and had not told him before, but it vanished when he thought about when he'd learned the contents. And Dumbledore had known all along? Why had he not told them earlier? Why not the moment You-Know-Who had been back?

Had they had known about it, they could have understood what the weird dreams Harry had been having were. Perhaps they even might have realized that the Department of Mysteries had been a trap.

It certainly explained the obsession You-Know-Who had with the Department of Mysteries and Harry.

Why had Dumbledore kept such important information to himself? Had he not trusted the Order and Harry?

And even if You-Know-Who had learned about the prophecy, would that have been really so bad?

He was already obsessed with Harry, or he would never had taken such drastic measures to assure he had his blood for his resurrection. Would the contents of the prophecy really have made a difference? He thought not.

The information about You-Know-Who was horrifying. Really? Splitting his own soul to prevent himself from dying? Ron's stomach felt queasy from only thinking about it.

His eyes narrowed as he read over the vague explanation of the scar connection. Harry was definitely hiding something. Something important.

He read the letter again and the uncomfortable feeling grew.

Something was definitely not right.

No, something was most definitely wrong, and he intended to find out what. So, he did the only logical thing in this kind of situation.

He wrote a letter to Hermione.

AN: Thanks for reading, let me know what you think.

Many thanks for a-bit-of-madness for helping to improve my grammar and spelling.

First published: 19th of December 2018