Chapter 60: Letters
After a long day at the Ministry, Hermione sat down on her bed. Setting a book against her knees, she laid out parchment and took her quill in hand. She paused, staring into space for a moment as she tried to settle her mind.
Prime numbers…let's see…2, 3, 5, 7, 11…
After a few minutes counting, when she was somewhere in the 300s, she stopped.
It wasn't working.
Hermione's jaw clenched, her head spun. Everywhere she went, there were terrified people, and she had to be Pleasant, Heroic Hermione, the girl fazed by nothing. But this second skin felt like nails grinding on chalkboard. She needed a place she could relax, and there simply wasn't one.
Desperate, she grabbed her quill and scribbled madly. She poured her thoughts, feelings and fears—all the things she wished she could say—into her letter to Harry.
She read the letter over, crying softly, until the thoughts had quieted in her mind. Then she folded the letter up and put it into her pocket, wiping the last tears from her cheeks. Finally, she pulled out another piece of parchment and wrote her real letter.
Dear Harry,
Good evening! Guess I ought to tell you what I've been up to. Nothing, nothing and more nothing. I wonder what we'll do tomorrow?
In other news, the food here is great. Yesterday, the cooks announced the schedule for this week and it only includes 4 days of fried fish. Last week, we started a betting pool on which days we would NOT have fried fish. I've…err…lost 4 times so far, but I'm feeling good about next week!
Anyway, how's your own investigation going? I hope your lab assistant hasn't died from boredom yet…
Five days and eleven hours after his decision to help Harry, Neville's conviction was starting to waiver. It was currently 5:30 am, and Neville was laying in his dark bedroom, unable to sleep. He suspected Harry was also up, pacing his room and writing in one of his journals. Neville knew if not for curfew, Harry would never have left his lab.
Neville rolled over, observing the small patch of light coming in through the window. The situation had gone from weird to somewhat alarming. Harry refused to go to class. He took his meals in his lab and hadn't left at all to shower and bathe. When Neville asked the last time he'd changed his robes, Harry responded, 'Isn't that what cleaning charms are for?'
At this point, Neville was beyond concerned about Harry's mental health, but at least his seclusion had been somewhat productive. So far, this is what Harry had figured out:
1) The explosion was caused by a cursed acid potion, located in the far right corner of his closet. This particular potion was not explosive unless it became annoyed, which would not happen because Harry's wards kept it permanently asleep. That meant someone had ripped through the warding and agitated it so much it blew up in rage.
2) Aside from the orb, several other items were missing from his closet. According to his logs, he was missing a crystal fruit, colour changing ring, sound catcher, a squarish circle, and a dragon blade dagger. All of them were labelled as artefacts from his Hogwarts' quests, though Harry had no idea what any of them did.
3) The perpetrator had left no discernible DNA evidence, at least none that Harry had found. That meant they either did not enter the closet to steal the items (aka levitated them out), or the 2000 degree blast of cursed acidic air destroyed the evidence.
4) Harry had 459 items in his closet to examine, and the process of combing through every single item he owned for evidence was sheer torture for him. He more than once declared that if his eyes didn't give out his brain would.
Neville, as usual, had done nothing but observe Harry working all day, so naturally he couldn't sleep at night. He was often awake well before sunrise, just like he was now. Yet Harry, in spite of his breakneck work pace, also had trouble sleeping. Neville knew this because every morning he found Harry pacing outside his lab, his arms folded with dark circles under his eyes.
Shifting to his side, Neville stared at his bedside table. He'd barely seen Daphne in the last few days. She understood why Neville was busy, but he was starting to feel the separation painfully. Hufflepuff or not, he was finding it hard to be loyal to both of them at once.
As the darkness outside his window slowly lightened, Neville figured his day of doing nothing was about to begin. He thought of that table of 459 items, of which Harry had examined 213 so far. Neville had offered more than once to help examine DNA evidence, since he was fairly experienced at using a microscope. Harry rejected him, gave him some spiel to justify his decision, but Neville had been so furious it barely registered.
Maybe this will be the day I tell Harry I won't do it anymore, thought Neville, as he did every morning. He was 99% sure he wouldn't, but it was nice to remember he could say no.
As soon as dawn touched the sky, Neville rose and dressed. He ran a comb through his hair and did a quick brush of his teeth, but didn't bother with breakfast. He knew Harry would have house elves bring a tray into his lab for Neville, though he barely ate any himself. That was convenient, at least, and showed Harry did care about his friend's comfort.
Before leaving his room, Neville wrote a short message to Daphne, and then another to his Gran. He was a little worried he hadn't heard back from her yet, but there was nothing he could do besides wait. Neville went downstairs, passing a few snoring paintings and whispered voices from the early risers.
As Neville entered Harry's lab, he stopped short. His friend was rummaging in his bookshelf, grabbing a couple books and shoving them into a bag. Harry's gaze snapped to his, green eyes bright with raw, determined fury. "Neville, I thank you for all your help, but today shall be your last day." He moved to the table and picked up a letter, passing it to him.
"What?"
"I've only a few days left to prove my innocence, and I've decided to pursue another tactic. If you do not see me in person by 1:00 pm, then please give this letter to Headmistress McGonagall. Apologies for not giving you advance notice. Please secure the room for me, you know what you need to do. I'm out of time or I'd do it myself."
As Harry walked off, Neville wheeled around. "Where are you going?"
"To conduct the next stage of investigation," said Harry, not slowing his pace at all. "Interviews."
Neville's mouth hung agape, and didn't close until Harry was out of sight.
Remus had always been a light sleeper, ever since he was young. When a bump or noise would wake him, he would lay very still with his eyes closed. Then he'd turn on his side, making sure to face away from the window. Even with the darkest curtains, there was still a chance light would bleed through, and he could not fall back asleep if he saw the moon.
But on this grey morning, when he woke to the sound of footsteps, he turned from the window to see the Boy-Who-Lived standing outside his doorway. He stood with folded arms, leaning casually against the frame. In the dim light, it was hard to see the boy well, but the anger in his voice was unmistakable.
"Hello Remus. Sleep well?"
Remus sat up, the thin blanket falling to his waist. "Harry? How did you…" He stopped, then sighed and rubbed his head. "It's 6:15. Why are you here?"
"I'm here to talk," the boy replied. "Your top secret research—or whatever you're doing—has made you rather hard to get a hold of lately. I'm surprised the Ministry doesn't ward your sleeping quarters more heavily, considering what a precious resource you are. But then again, I suppose we make do with poor warding when needs must."
Remus sighed and rose from his bed. He hastily donned his robe, and decided being caught in his pyjamas was the least uncomfortable thing about this situation.
Harry watched the whole affair, like a guard watching a prisoner eat his last meal.
"You know why I'm here," Harry said. "So let's not waste time. But before you speak, don't forget that if I am a dreaded dark wizard working with the Factionist cabal, then I am more than capable of defending myself. But if I'm not, then I'm just an innocent student talking to a Ministry employee. Either way, there's no point in hostility. Best to keep things civil, yes?"
Sweet Merlin, thought Remus. He really thinks I'm his enemy.
Remus straightened and stood up. "Very well, I was about to get up anyway. Come in and I'll make you a cup of tea."
"I'll stay out here thanks," he replied. "Don't feel comfortable in a stranger's room alone, my parents warned me it was a big no-no."
Remus went to his tiny stove and lit the fire, setting the kettle on top. Remus told McGonagall to cut off Harry's access to the castle wards. Bugger all, it was supposed to remain a secret, but of course he knew. The boy was smart and cunning, and he hadn't come to talk. He was here for battle.
Waving his wand in a smooth motion, Remus examined the doorway. "I could release my wards and let you pass, but I see you've already broken them. You also set up your own barrier, but I can't tell what it does. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Harry."
Harry was silent a moment. "I wouldn't have taken down your wards if I had another choice. Alarms blaring and Aurors swarming is not a good environment for a productive conversation. My warding is a temporary measure, and I'll replace yours once I'm done, with improvements. Like I said, I just came to talk."
"But why do we need a barrier in the first place? Did you honestly think I would attack you?" said Remus, turning to look at Harry.
"Why no, Remus—I'm the one who would attack you," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't forget, I'm in cahoots with the Factionists, willing to risk the lives of everyone I love to support a cause that hates me. I destroyed my own property and killed thousands just to make Bellatrix smile. Doubtlessly, there must have been a myriad of evidence to convince McGonagall to get rid of her best and only warding expert, so I'm sure whatever you provided her was quite convincing. I'm not sure why I haven't been shipped off to Azkaban yet, maybe they're all full up, but at least you're here to stop me from committing any more treason, right? A werewolf guarding his child prisoner, that's not suspect at all."
Remus sighed. "I see your point. I suppose I can see how my actions could be interpreted that way. I am sorry—"
"Sorry? I don't want an apology, I want an explanation. I've spent the last four days trying to figure out why you would sabotage me, and I've honestly tried to give you benefit of the doubt, but…no, it doesn't compute. Unless someone is withholding information from me, the only logical answer is that one of us is working for the bad guys, and it isn't me. You're a rather good spy, I'll give you that. You've deceived everyone—the Ministry, McGonagall, Tonks…"
Remus turned to Harry, who was regarding him with shrewd curiosity.
"Now, if it were my decision, I'd leverage what I know and who I know force a confession from you. However, I'm going to give you a chance to come clean willingly. Tell me the truth. Why did you tell McGonagall I'm involved with the terrorists? But be careful how you respond, I will only accept complete honesty, not half-truths and lies. Ignore that, and well…we'll be having a different sort of conversation with a lot more participants."
Remus shook his head. This was his fault. He had waited too long to make a decision, and it had led to this. But the troubling thing wasn't just how badly their relationship had deteriorated, or the fact the boy had him trapped in his room. No, it was how much worse things were about to get for Harry Potter.
The kettle began to whistle. As Remus poured his tea, Harry looked silently on, an intense glare burning into his eyes.
There was the right thing to do, telling the Ministry and letting them assess the threat Harry posed. Then there was what he'd wanted to do, which was wait, find more conclusive evidence, then share it with only Minerva and Harry. It seemed the most humane way to handle the situation. Yet by coming here, Harry not only forced Remus' hand, but was also starting to change his mind.
The boy was careful. He had set up at least one warding barrier without alerting Remus, and probably several more that were harder to detect. But strangely, the boy was taking no precautions against Legilimency or mind control. Remus had long suspected that Harry was trained in mind magic. He could sense Harry probing at the surfaces of his mind, chipping at his Occlumency barriers through emotional attacks. He had vastly underestimated Harry's abilities in this area, which meant he'd also underestimated Harry's value to the enemy.
He would break through eventually, and before then, Remus needed to act.
Regardless of how he felt for Harry, the boy was simply too powerful. He was a master warder, which meant Remus and Minerva alone could not contain him if he decided to run. His Occlumency skill also meant it was impossible to know if he was telling the truth, even if they did question him with Veritiserum. There were a lot of reasons why that was a problem. And if Remus and Minerva could not manage Harry, then…he had no choice.
"Harry," said Remus. "I have something to tell you. How you respond afterwards will determine exactly what happens to you."
He raised his eyebrows. "If I didn't know we were having a civil conversation, I would say that's a threat."
Remus blew on his tea, while he tried very hard to keep his hands steady. "After I tell you this, the Ministry officials will arrive. They will have some questions for you. You will likely be detained, and I do not know what will happen then. But before that happens, I feel as though owe you this."
His entire body went rigid, his hands squeezing. "I see," he said. "What is it that you owe me?"
"The truth," said Remus, setting the cup down without drinking. "About what I told McGonagall…about what is really happening to you. The truth is, you aren't working with the Factionists, but they are working with you."
Harry stared at Remus, and he took the moment of silence to collect his thoughts. "Mind magic is one of the hardest kinds of magic to detect, but you can find traces of it once you know what to look for. Missing moments of time, locations frequently returned to at odd hours, compulsions to do things you wouldn't normally do. And I'm willing to bet you've experienced all of these things...you just don't remember it."
"What?"
"I've reason to suspect you are under an influence spell, Harry. A powerful one. I can count on one hand the wizards able to cast such a spell, and I—"
Remus stopped as Harry's body fell to the ground with a thud.
He stared for a fraction of a second, his thoughts cycling. Why did he fall? Did he plan this? He could be trying to trick me.
A second later, he realized it didn't matter. He rushed toward the sick child, knelt down and checked for signs of life. Everything seemed normal. Harry had collapsed in the middle of his doorway, tripping the barrier. Remus suspected this would lead to repercussions later, and that in a minute or so he would no longer be alone.
Remus was about to carry Harry to the bed when he noticed a piece of paper sticking out of his pocket that said "Read Me."
A bit confused, Remus plucked the note out of Harry's pocket and unfolded it.
Dear Remus,
Greetings. What was the last thing Dumbledore said to you? Please write it below.
After a few awkward seconds, Remus realized what this letter was asking, and who was asking it. Taking his quill, he wrote the answer with trembling hands.
Trust Harry. He is our only hope.
Remus watched with wide eyes as his letters disappeared, replaced with a long message. After reading it, he stood still for a very long time, his eyes scanning it over and over in shocked disbelief.
He didn't want to believe it—this was too insane—but there was more. A vial filled with silvery liquid slipped from the letter into his hand, along with a hidden location in the castle.
It looked like, finally, Remus had his evidence.
He let out a shaking breath, staring at the boy on the ground. Remus needed time to examine, think, process. But within seconds, the Aurors would be here. With moments to spare, he fished his time turner out of his trunk, and spun it twice. There was work to be done, and not much time to do it. He would go to this hidden location and get to the bottom of this.
By the time Harry's back up arrived, Remus had stowed the note in his pocket, and his entire world had changed.
When Harry awoke, he saw pale stucco over his head, and felt a sickening sense of déjà vu.
I passed out. Again.
He sat up, his head pounding as he scanned the room of St. Mungos.
And I lost time…again.
As his vision cleared he saw Remus sitting beside him, and a few pieces of the puzzle snapped into place. They'd been alone in his room when he passed out, which narrowed the range of suspects down to one. Harry reached for his wand on the bedside table, and Remus made no move to stop him, nor did he raise his own wand when Harry aimed his. His arm felt weak, but he refused to let it tremble.
The last time he'd ended up in St. Mungos, he'd felt a vague sense of disorientation, like some force wanted him to forget. This time, alarm bells were blaring in his head. He knew something was wrong, and he had a strong suspicion the man before him was responsible.
"Oh no you don't," said Madam Pomfrey, snatching the wand from his hand. He gave her a wounded glare, but it had no effect. Harry needed two seconds to think, and he couldn't do it lying defenseless in front of his enemy. Still, though losing his weapon was annoying, at least Madam Pomfrey's presence was a shield preventing Remus from trying anything.
"What happened?" asked Harry, annunciating each syllable. "And why am I here?"
"You had a nasty fall," said Madam Pomfrey. "You knocked yourself out on a warding line, most likely—"
"Is that what he told you?" asked Harry. "Or is that what the evidence suggests?"
"Harry," said Remus. "We need to talk—"
"Madam Pomfrey," interrupted Harry. "Am I well enough to leave now?"
The look she gave him would have terrified Salazar Slytherin himself.
"You have a concussion," she said firmly. "And as this is now your second time visiting the infirmary in the last month, you will stay until I am certain you won't hurt yourself again!" She headed for the door. "I've other patients. Remus, watch him and make sure he remains on bedrest."
"What?" barked Harry, as she left the room. "Madam Pomfrey—"
The door closed behind her, and they were alone.
In the seconds of silence that followed, Harry grabbed his wand again, levelling it at Remus. The man simply stared at him quietly, hands folded in his lap.
"We were alone," said Harry. "I did not do this to myself."
"No, you did not," said Remus. "It was me. I knocked you out and I obliviated your memory."
Harry's grip on his wand tightened. "Why?"
Remus did not respond right away, turning instead to look out the window. "I will tell you, but first, I've a confession to make. The last time you were knocked out, I was the one who brought you to the infirmary."
Harry didn't move. "Is that so?"
Remus nodded. "I'd planted a tracker on you, so I was immediately informed when you collapsed. I wanted to help you, but could not let you know I was watching. So I charmed a house elf to go in and take credit for your rescue."
"Interesting. I see you're carefully wording your answers, so I'll ask plainly. Did you knock me out?"
"No."
"Do you know who or what did it?"
He shook his head. "No, and I don't have any evidence to prove it. I'm sorry, you'll just have to take me at my word."
His mind raced. "Fine. So, you charmed a house elf to come to our rescue? You never went into the room to check on me and Hermione?"
"Well, actually…I did," said Remus. "I healed as many injuries as I could, made sure you were safe for transport, and then charmed the elf."
"Why not just wear a hat?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Or glasses." He folded his arms. "You could put on a nifty little disguise, then Apparate Hermione and me into the infirmary incognito. Or better yet, turn yourself invisible and you can dispense with disguises. It definitely makes more sense than using mind magic on a house elf."
"The house elf gave me a scapegoat," said Remus, shrugging. "I was a bit paranoid."
Harry rolled his eyes. He wished he could call him out for lying, but his brain offered a different suggestion. I suppose in emergency situations, you go with the first option that pops into your head, not the cleverest one.
As much as he hated to admit it, everything Remus said tracked with his understanding of what happened. He'd have to double check his books, but influencing a house elf to clean didn't exactly seem hard, so it might be the work of a few seconds…
"Let's say I believe you," said Harry. "Your explanation still begs the question, why were you watching me?
"The Ministry asked me to," said Remus. "My task was to make sure you weren't working for the Factionists."
The revelation hit him like a ton of bricks. "Di-did they have reason to suspect me? Aside from slanderous propaganda that's straight out of the Quibbler? No nevermind—that's not fair to the Quibbler, at least their stories are the entertaining sort of ludicrous."
Remus shook his head. "Even if the Factionists ascribe to the worst possible interpretation, prophecy is not propaganda. But to answer your question, yes there was reason to suspect you. After what happened in the Hogwarts Quest, the Ministry wanted a report on you, Hermione and Dean. After our investigation, we found your mental aberrations seemed more extensive and alarming than the others. It was something the Ministry wanted to examine further, so they sent me."
Harry was silent a long moment. "Mental aberrations?"
"Clouded spots in your mind. Mental blocks where there shouldn't be. That sort of thing."
Harry forced himself not to react. That was Occlumency. He was skilled enough at hiding his thoughts that normally there'd be no "mental aberrations," but the near death experience must have weakened him. In that case, he was beginning to understand why the Ministry had concerns. Innocent students typically didn't have anything to hide.
"So you were supposed to…watch me? Spy on me?"
"Yes. I was to report everything I learned back to the Ministry, and they would decide what to do."
There were a lot of questions he could have asked, but the first thing he said was, "Is that why you befriended me?"
Remus sighed. "Yes and no. Harry, I hated every moment of my assignment. I don't like spying on others, and I know for a fact there are some Ministry officials who would use any evidence I found to destroy you. Suffice it to say, I did all of my work with great reluctance. I did enjoy your company and frequently wished it didn't come with other obligations."
Harry's mind was spinning, trying to see if there were any holes in his explanation, anything that might prove an ulterior motive. Why was Remus telling him this now? "So…what about telling McGonagall not to trust me with the wards?"
Remus opened his hands. "It was just a precaution."
"Against what?" Harry shook his head. "You're a logical person, you know what that precaution cost. You wouldn't have made that call unless you had a serious reason. Did you find evidence of more 'mental aberrations?' Because if you did, then I would really, really like to know."
"I had…suspicions," said Remus softly. "I feared you were working with the Factionists. My evidence was circumstantial, but it was enough to exercise caution. I told McGonagall to give me a week. I planned to gather more evidence and then take you in for questioning, but you beat me to it."
"That still doesn't explain why I passed out and why my memory is gone." He gripped his wand. "You say it's not related to the first incident, the one in my office, but I'm seeing too many similarities. Passing out, loss of memory, and lack of even halfway decent answers."
"Well, if you want the recap of what happened, here it is," said Remus. "You entered my room and used Legilimency on me. I sensed it, knocked you out. I then woke you, bound you, and used several spells and potions restricted by the Ministry to enter your mind. This interrogation was completely against protocol, by the way, and I will be severely punished if they ever find out. When I found the information I wanted, I erased the encounter from your memory."
Harry looked out the window, where the sun was barely risen in the sky. "So let me get this straight. You used battle magic on a student in Hogwarts—which would have triggered castle alarms—then spent the next two minutes interrogating me before the Aurors arrived? I hardly consider that a thorough investigation, even by Ministry standards."
"You're forgetting that I'm a Ministry spy and provisioned with the appropriate tools. Using what is commonly known as a Spimster Wicket—you know them as Time Turners—I was able to conduct my investigation before the Ministry officials arrived with questions."
"Okay but—so that could work," said Harry. "But only with several complexity penalties. After interrogating future me, you would have had to hide while past me was warding your room. I checked the surrounding area for people, so the only place you could have hidden where I might not have spotted you would be under the bed.
"Furthermore, I know you've used Legilimency on me before, so why wait until today to interrogate me? If you'd explained your concerns, I would have let you question me. And why even bother Obliviating me if you plan to tell me everything later?"
Remus was silent a moment, hands folded on his knees. His face was pale and drawn. "To be completely honest with you, most of my decisions were made in panic. I'm not a proper investigator, Harry, I'm just an academic. For months, I watched you and found all your actions to be completely normal. Then…one day the Factionists attacked Hogwarts, and nothing seemed safe or normal anymore. I was looking for something I could do to protect the school, to protect Tonks. I needed someone to blame."
"And you chose me," said Harry.
Remus nodded. "I'm not proud, Harry, but it made sense at the time. I thought I could gather more evidence against you and present the case to the Ministry, but then you confronted me. You warded my room, used Legilimency to enter my mind. I couldn't let you do that, I had secrets to keep, but I was trapped in my room and it was only a matter of time.
"I knocked you out, only realizing afterwards this was a mistake. Regardless of what I said or did, the Ministry would take us both into custody and send one of us to Azkaban. I'd left myself with only six hours to prove you innocent or guilty, and hide the evidence of what I'd done, make it look like an accident. So I did what I had to do, needlessly complicated as it might be."
"But why Obliviate me, Remus?" said Harry. "Why not let me help you?"
"Because you tried to enter my mind, I don't know to what extent. Protocol says I erase your memories of the encounter. They also say I report you to the Ministry so they can conduct a thorough investigation, but in the end I decided not to."
There was a moment of silence.
"I suppose that means you found me innocent of all wrongdoing?"
"Well…let me put it this way." Remus smiled at Harry. "Before you woke up, I spoke to the Headmistress. I told her my evidence against you was unfounded and circumstantial, that you were neither guilty nor working with the Factionists. I also said that you'd be doing more good working in the Headmistress's office than behind a school desk. It's up to her to decide if that's what she wantsto do, but I've done what I can to fix the wrong that I have done."
"So…you changed your mind? Just like that?"
"I did. Would you like me to interrogate you again, just to be sure? I could still call the Ministry interrogation squad."
Harry shook his head. "Not necessary. But I am wondering why it took you so long to realize the Ministry is inept and that you shouldn't worry about breaking their rules."
"What can I say? I'm a stick in the mud. And again…I'm sorry." His smile faded. "I overreacted and you paid the price for it."
Harry shrugged. "Well, yes you did, but…I think in your case I might have been overly cautious too. And if I was protecting top secret information, I would also have cut you off without a face to face conversation. There's too much risk of a data leak."
"Still," said Remus. "Anything I can do to earn your forgiveness?"
Harry thought about it. "Well, in the spirit of breaking the rules, why don't you buy me a drink? I could use a scotch."
Remus chuckled, placed a hand on Harry's arm. "If there is time, I certainly will. For now, I've said what I need to say, and I have a few things to do. Rest well, Harry."
Remus left the room, his smile fading. He had just lied to Harry Potter.
Not everything he'd said was a lie; in fact, most was true in some fashion. He did rescue Harry and Hermione by charming a house elf. He was sent to Hogwarts to spy on Harry for the Ministry. Remus had gathered evidence that Harry's mind was compromised, and he had now dismissed that evidence and chosen to hide it from the Ministry.
But the reason he had done so wasn't because he'd read Harry's mind and found him innocent. Rather, he'd found evidence that changed the entire narrative. Remus had never acted in a panic, and his evidence against Harry wasn't purely circumstantial. Harry was being influenced and manipulated—just not by the Factionists.
Remus's entire meeting with Harry had been calculated to hide this manipulation— as the letter had advised him to. Harry will need to be convinced that his mind is his own. He must not suspect that someone has influenced it, or all of our carefully laid plans could fall apart. This will have grave consequences not just for him, but for the world.
The world was in a grave state if this was the best solution, the one that ensured their survival. He'd spent hours this morning trying to disprove the evidence, and he couldn't. This was the narrow path, and he had to help clear it. To do so, Remus would defy the orders of the Ministry, not to mention all common sense, it that's what it would take to save everyone.
There was one downside, however. The evidence that convinced him was detailed enough that now Remus was a liability, a weak link in the chain of secrets. Before he could do anything about that, however, he needed to see Minerva.
He ascended the stairs and entered her office, and she rose at the sight of him. "You talked to Harry? How is he?"
"I did, and he is well." He saw her visibly relax. "I just told him that I spoke to you about putting him in charge of castle defence. He has the mind for it and the skill, and you won't find anyone more loyal."
She blinked. "You…no longer suspect him of Factionist influence?"
"I do not," said Remus, shaking his head. "The only one influencing Harry is himself, of that I am certain."
"This is…good news," said Minerva, her face clouded in confusion. "But Remus, you were so adamant last week that he would put the school in danger. You said you'd gathered alarming evidence that he was under mind control. What changed?"
"Well, we agreed I would take a week to confirm my findings," said Remus. "And in that time, I found new evidence, enough to convince me that Harry is definitely on your side. However…" He bit his lip. "As much as I would like to, I cannot share this evidence with you."
"And why not?"
He sighed. "Because it must be kept secret. In fact, after this meeting, I must go into seclusion. I will go to the Unspeakables, show them what I've learned. They will be able to determine if this is the truth, and prepare us to handle what is coming."
Minerva was very quiet. "Remus," she said softly. "What is Harry involved in?"
"I…I really wish I could tell you. All I can say is to remember what Dumbledore told us, and to think about what is happening now. You know the signs we have seen, England is in turmoil and it…won't end well. But our enemy is not the Factionists, and it never has been. Time itself is against us, and Harry might be the only one standing between us and total annihilation."
Minerva shook her head. "Harry, for all his talents, is still a boy. I will not value a prophecy over common sense. If the end of the world is to happen soon, and he is our only hope, then we are truly lost. And besides, if we take the prophecies at their literal interpretation, Harry's 'destiny' is to destroy the world, is it not?"
"Yes, but the one to destroy the world is also the one who can save it. And as for the rest of your concerns…Harry is not just a boy." He ran a hand through his hair. "Minerva, I think it's time for each of us to make a choice. I'll go to the Unspeakables, but it will take them weeks for them to verify my evidence, and you might have to make a choice before then."
"You would have me trust Harry with the wards," said Minerva, her voice tight. "After you told me his mind is compromised. Forgive me if I don't wish to do something so drastic based on evidence you won't tell me."
"I know," said Remus. "And if that is your decision, I understand, and I hope it is the right one. But I'll ask you, remember what Dumbledore told us, about Harry and his path. I believe his advice is more true now than ever before, and I trust him more than any evidence, more than any prophecy."
He turned to leave. "I care for you Minerva, both you and Harry. I really wish I could tell you more, but for now…think on what I said. We will talk again soon."
When Remus left, Minerva sat for a minute with her head in her hands. Her brain felt like a buzzing swarm, like she might snap at any moment. Remus was right about one thing—this was her decision to make. She couldn't make it without her own evidence.
Minerva stood up and went to her mantle of magical objects. She whistled a tune, and one of the boxes opened. Inside were all the letters that Dumbledore had left her before his disappearance, some of which she had not yet opened.
Gathering them up, she carried them back to her desk and began to read.
That evening, Harry sat down in the Ravenclaw common room, got out his quill and penned his letter.
Dear Hermione,
Your letter was very amusing, you've certainly got plenty of free time to come up with jokes. But I've got one better. Ready? This morning, Remus offered to buy me a drink. We're celebrating our decision to become partners in crime. He is going to break you out of the Ministry, and I'll be the driver.
No, but really, we've had a talk. Long story short, there were some misunderstandings. Remus has interceded for me with a certain someone, and I'm still waiting to hear that person's decision. I'll stalk both of them if I have to.
To be honest, I don't know how to feel about this situation. I thought it would make me happy, but I feel rather confused. There's a lot to think about. But more than anything, I wish you were beside me so I could hear your response right away. I want to know what you think, what your advice would be. I can't wait to see you, hear your voice, and tell you everything I can't say through a letter.
He stopped, quill pausing over the line. He thought of the last time he told her good news, how he laughed and spun her around. The memory was beautiful, and his heart ached as an intense fear and longing come over him. It was how she always made him feel, joyful and terrified.
The truth was, he missed her far more than he was letting on. He wanted to see her, hold her close and refuse to let her go until he'd covered her with kisses and caresses. But it wasn't fair to say that after his cold rejection; it would only hurt her.
Harry dipped his quill and kept writing.
I also wish I could see you because I sense you're hiding something. It's easy to be cheerful on paper, but what's really going on in your mind? So please, tell me how you really feel. I hope you trust me enough to burden me with your problems, just as I've unburdened myself on you. Don't worry about hurting me or stressing me out—I'm a big boy, I can handle it.
Anyway, back to business. As a thank you for your counsel, I promise to make you cookies. Hopefully that will get the taste of fish out of your memories. I don't want to get your hopes up too much, but I do happen to have a very nice baking recipe in one of my spell books—
At that moment, someone crashed into the common room.
"Harry, there you are!" The boy gasped. "I need to talk to you."
"Neville?" Harry sat up. His friend was breathing hard, as if he'd run up the entire flight of stairs. "What's wrong?"
"I can't explain it, you just have to see it. Clean up your things and meet me in the Herbology lab! Come on, before curfew starts!"
Neville ran out of the room and after a few blinks of disbelief, Harry followed.
