Chapter 52 - Evidence
Harry's back collided against the cold dungeon wall, letting out a grunt as his legs wobbled. Snape was at the other end of the room, back against his desk. The two glared at each other, the tension was almost suffocating.
"Improvement, Potter," Snape sneered. "But still sloppy, I've said that Occlumency is a very precise art and the Dark Lord is much better in Legilimency than me."
"I threw you out, didn't I?" Harry retorted, finding his balance once again.
"The point is not to throw me out, Potter," Snape spat. "But to prevent me from even entering in the first place. Occlumency is not a game of tug-o-war, it is an art of deception, which is why you need to empty your mind. You have not been practising what I've taught, you are merely employing parlour tricks."
Snape climbed to his feet and steadied himself, shooting him a nasty look before heading to the Pensieve where he withdrew his memories before every session with Harry. The wisp of silver flowed from the stone basin back to Snape's temples.
"Leave, we will continue this next week," Snape ordered.
Harry left the office hastily, all too grateful to be away from Snape. The session had been dreadful in particular, it was almost impossible to empty his mind. The image of him executing another person had been etched to his mind the moment Snape uttered the words 'empty your mind'. As a result, the raw panic of Snape seeing his mind pushed him to throw Snape's Legilimency off with repeated succession, utilising every trick Anne had taught him.
The thought of Anne brought up more ugly memories, memories which were not even complete. Harry had avoided her since that night, the conflict in his mind preventing him from facing her. It was hard, a tight pull in his gut that had left him waking up in the middle of the night, coated in sweat. There was constant weight on his shoulders, a constant reminder he killed someone. It had been that way since Cedric. Now, it only got worse.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. At least the lessons with Snape had been growing shorter, there was a DA meeting he had to prepare.
"Why are you alone, in the middle of dungeons, shaking your head like an absolute loon?"
Harry turned to the source of the mirthful and slightly teasing voice, already imagining the amused grin before he was met with the sight of Astoria. True to his guess, the third-year brunette had a grin on her face, an eyebrow lifted in puzzled amusement.
"Just leaving the dungeons," Harry replied flatly, turning back to his path out of the dungeons. "And I'm pretty sure it's my own business as to what I do."
"That's harsh," said Astoria, quickening her steps to catch up with Harry. "I've got time to kill, so I'll tag along."
Harry glanced at Astoria, the girl had caught up to him now, hands clasped behind her back. A silence settled as they walked out of the dungeons, Harry leading the path towards the stairway in the direction of the Room of Requirement.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Harry asked warily.
"I'm meeting Anya later, but that's not for anytime soon," Astoria shrugged, her words an indicator that Anne was not attending the coming DA meeting. "So… what are you doing?"
"None of your business."
"Ohhh… are you heading to that super secret club of yours?" Astoria grinned, wiggling her fingers. "Off to fight the evil dark lord no one has ever seen?"
"Sure," Harry grimaced, one of his eyes twitching. "And Voldemort does exist."
"Yes… all evidence points to that illuminating conclusion," Astoria replied with a teasing note.
Harry stopped in his tracks, the stray thought in his mind slamming into his head. The recollection from Snape siphoning wisps of silver from temple to basin surfaced from his bubbling thoughts. He turned to Astoria who had been staring at him in confusion.
"Would a Pensieve memory count as solid, hard evidence?" Harry asked, the idea in his mind solidifying.
"Not… necessarily," said Astoria, her countenance switching swiftly from joking to neutral. "Memories could be tempered with."
"Do you think I'm someone who would do that just to sell a story?" Harry stared at Astoria challengingly.
Astoria paused for a moment, stumped by Harry's vehemence. Slowly, she shook her head, mouth closed shut. Harry nodded in slight satisfaction before changing his path in the direction of the Hogwarts grounds.
"Wait at the seventh floor staircase," said Harry, plotting the next several steps of his plan, glad that he kept the mirror Sirius gave him in his robes. "I'll show you."
"Eh?" Astoria squeaked. "Show me what?"
"What happened the day Cedric died."
XXXXX
Multiple lacerations crisscrossed the body, burns stained the flesh and the torso held sickly green patches which could only have been caused by magic. Dried blood and the purple discolouration of skin were clear signs that the person had long been dead.
Amelia stared at the body of her subordinate in disbelief. The surreal detachment of mind from reality hit her hard. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, it felt like the war all over again. It was an unsuspecting mood which had begun brewing last summer: the Dark Mark in the World Cup, Cedric Diggory's mysterious dead at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, the Black Mark's sudden entrance into Britain, Edinburgh becoming a temporary warzone and Death Eaters breaking out of Azkaban.
Now, an Auror she had known and trusted for her entire career was killed on a mission. Surrounding the corpse was a mix of Aurors and Healers, investigating the body for any scraps of valuable information. Rufus Scrimgeour approached her, giving a solemn shake of the head.
"Report," Amelia said tersely.
"Cause of death is basically what you can see, Madam Bones," Scrimgeour grunted. "Various injuries inflicted until he eventually succumbed. Healers estimate the time of death at one o'clock in the morning."
"Veritaserum?" Amelia asked.
"Trace amounts in the blood and saliva," Scrimgeour nodded. "Several other potions in the blood and saliva too. Poisons, suppressants, some unidentified. Based on the decomposition of identified potions, time of ingestion of potions was at midnight, possibly earlier."
"Torture and interrogation," Amelia voiced the conclusion she made an hour ago.
"Aye," Scrimgeour agreed. "This leads to the next question, what information were they fishing for?"
Amelia could already make an educated guess. Lestrange and Sterling were caught during their mission, meaning that Stanning and company knew about her investigation. Amelia cursed under her breath, taking consolation at the fact one had survived.
"I've spent most of the time here, has Sterling woken up?" Scrimgeour asked. "He was still unconscious when I left St Mungo's."
"Yes, there was nothing much for him to say," Amelia replied. "He has no memories of the past twenty-four hours, likely a Memory Charm. I've got several Auror trying to fix that issue. I might have to ask the Department of Mysteries for help."
"Someone patched him up good, looking back I'm surprised we'd even find them let alone with Sterling being alive," Scrimgeour commented. "Seems the situation is a lot more complicated than I had first thought. What were the two of them doing? They'd seldom be together unless it was duty."
Silence. Amelia weighed her options.
"Madam Bones?" Scrimgeour narrowed his eyes.
"Off-the-books assignment," Amelia sighed, drawing her and giving it a discreet flick. Scrimgeour was strict and stubborn enough to not be a potential traitor, Amelia could guarantee that. The next step was getting the man to keep his nose out.
"For?" Scrimgeour asked, noticing the spell which prevented them from being eavesdropped.
"Edinburgh," Amelia replied. "I didn't like the fact that the Aurors stationed in Edinburgh Castle were unable to act."
"Traitors?" Scrimgeour's eye twitched. "Just like the war all over again."
"Rufus, I'll handle this one," Amelia insisted. "Just let me know if you notice anything strange, I don't need you to start a crusade."
"Fine," Scrimgeour sighed. "It's getting late, I'll write the letter to his family. Always the worst part of being a superior."
"I'll do this one as well," said Amelia, staring at the dead body for a moment before snorting. "And knowing his family, they'd write me a letter of thanks."
She left the room, disapparating back to her office to begin on the letter. As words formed from the tip of her quill, Amelia was deep in thought. Sterling had gotten out alive. More than that, he had gotten out with his injuries healed. Placing herself in the enemy's shoes, there was no discernible reason to ever let Sterling live, even with the memories wiped clean.
There had been a third party, someone who rescued Sterling but came too late for Lestrange to survive. As for Sterling's modified memories, someone wanted their identity concealed. She signed off the letter and set it aside, deciding to owl it in the morning. Summoning a file with the flick of her wand, she looked through her own personal report on the case she had assigned Lestrange and Sterling to. She had been doing her own digging while her Aurors were in the field.
She made her choice, heading out of her office and disapparating to Auror Training Ground C, designated headquarters for the Russian Aurors under the St Helensworth Agreement. Entering the main office, one of the Russian Aurors looked up from his desk, dressed in the standard black mask and blue combat robes.
"I presume you're looking for Senior Auror Sergei?" the Auror spoke before Amelia could. "Follow me."
Amelia's suspicion rose ten fold, giving the Auror a curt nod and following him. Sergei was in his office, sitting in his customary wheelchair with his customary Auror escort behind him. The stout man took the cigar out of his mouth and released a stream of smoke from his lips.
"Madam Bones," Sergei greeted, gesturing to the empty chair in front of him.
Amelia looked at the pieces of paper scattered on his desk. "You were expecting me," said Amelia, it had been a statement, not a question. "And last I've known, I have yet to even release the news."
"I have ears," Sergei stated simply. "I also have contacts."
"Was it your men who rescued my Aurors?" Amelia asked.
"No," Sergei shook his head. "A friend of mine."
Amelia could hear the honesty in his voice, and his statements aligned with her suspicions. She pulled out a piece of parchment, sliding it to Sergei. He picked up the parchment and read its contents.
"Information I've gathered," Amelia crossed her arms. "Wizarding companies have been set up in Britain for some time, with transfers of money matching some of my Aurors. These companies have been linked to Wizarding Russia's internal affairs. Headed by a certain man named Leo."
"Ironic," Sergei snorted.
"Not just that, some of your Aurors have been visiting these companies. Further digging reveals that a number of your Auror are under their paycheck."
"You've done your work, it seems," Sergei nodded.
"I know my way around Gringotts, galleons always leave a paper trail," Amelia gave a vicious grin. "Ties to Russian noble houses, ties to front companies. You need to watch your Aurors more than I have to watch my own."
"I know," Sergei raised an eyebrow.
A silence settled between the two, Amelia gathering her thoughts as Sergei continued reading through the piece of parchment.
"I propose a joint task force, an unofficial extension of the St Helensworth Agreement," Amelia said sharply. "After all, we appear to have a common enemy and we both need to weed out people in our ranks."
It made the most sense, Amelia could deduce that Sergei required assistance to deal with his enemies. Enemies already within the Russian's own Auror Corps and now spreading into hers. Furthermore, having an additional wing which combined expertise from two Auror Corps would be immensely beneficial to have at her disposal. After all, there was a slew of escaped Death Eaters hiding in Britain.
However, there was a large hurdle in Amelia's plan. In an environment as corrupted as the Ministry of Magic, securing the power and funding was an issue. The Wizengamot held too much power and was filled with Purebloods looking out for themselves. The other position of power was Fudge, a case of its own tier. As for funding, Amelia knew Wizarding Britain to be one of the most financially powerful communities, the issue lied in the corruption amongst government spending. She was the Head of the DMLE, which happened to be in the government. An alternative was an extra-governmental organisation, but that was simply not her method of doing things.
It was a game of cards and she needed a better hand.
Sergei looked her in the eye, taking a deep drag of his cigar. He pocketed the parchment and gave his escort a nod. The Auror drew his wand and gave a swift flick, the paper on his desk assembled into a neat stack and slid towards Amelia.
"Then I suggest you begin picking your men."
XXXXX
Harry jogged up the steps of the stairs, a vial in his hand and within it contained a mass of silver mist. Astoria was leaning against the handrails of the stairs, giving a small yawn. She raised an eyebrow at Harry's appearance before pushing off the handrails.
"You really shouldn't make a lady wait, Potter," Astoria said genially before pointing a finger at the vial. "What is that?"
"Pensieve memory," Harry smirked.
"Is it yours?" Astoria asked.
"Of course," Harry shot the younger girl a glare. "Come on, follow me."
I need a room with a Pensive. I need a room with a Pensive. I need a room with a Pensive.
They made their way to the corridor on the left, towards the Room of Requirement and walked around the corridor for three times. Astoria's face of confusion gave way to surprise as she saw a simple on the corridor where there had not been one.
"Where did that come from?" Astoria blinked, bewildered by the manifestation. Her question was ignored by Harry who opted to open the door and usher her inside.
The room was plain and bare, bearing a similar appearance to a Hogwarts classroom, albeit without the desks, chairs and blackboard. In the centre stood a small platform and resting atop it was a Pensieve, a smooth stone basin with runes inscribed around it.
"What is this?" Astoria strolled to the centre of the room, looking around as her attention was fixed more so on the room than the Pensieve. Harry trailed behind her, making a beeline for the Pensive. A spark of realisation reached Astoria's brown eyes and she spun towards Harry. "This is the room you use as your clubhouse?"
"Don't call it a clubhouse," Harry grimaced, uncorking the vial of memories and tipping its contents into the Pensieve. He inspected the swirling mist and saw no glaring issues, none that someone as inexperienced as him could spot. "Here, stick your head in."
"How in Merlin's name did you even extract your memory?" Astoria frowned, looking at Harry from head to toe in an attempt to solve her question.
Harry refused to answer, gesturing at the Pensieve and looking at Astoria expectantly. Astoria gave a slight pout before bending over the stone basin and sinking her head into the mist of memories. Harry crossed his arms and waited, not intent on reliving at memories for the sake of accompanying Astoria.
Muttering a silent thanks to Sirius, Harry waited. He had used the mirror Sirius had given him, choosing to keep it on him at all times, much like the Christmas gift Anne had given him. A quick exchange on the two-way mirror was all it took for Harry to give Sirius his request. Sirius had been more than willing to meet up with him at the Hogwarts grounds in short notice. It had been nostalgic, watching the large black dog come out of the Whomping Willow.
Sirius also had not asked for any reason when Harry requested him to extract the memories of Voldemort's revival. His godfather had simply given a nod and went to work, the short meeting culminating in a vial of memories and a tight hug from his godfather being parting ways.
It had been half an hour before Astoria pulled her head out from the silvery mist, hands pushing against the Pensieve as she launched her backwards. Landing on her rear, her face was one of disbelief and shock. She turned to face Harry, the colour from her face drained away.
"That was… You-Know-Who?" Astoria muttered. "He's back… he's actually…"
"I thought you had discussed this with Anya the last time you challenged me?" Harry raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Well… all Anya said was that you had no reason to lie while the Ministry had every reason to," Astoria slowly climbed to her feet. "She told me to use my own judgement, and while I didn't think you would lie… you can't deny anyone would be sceptical."
"I mean… for our generation… You-Know-You was just a bedtime story, something to frighten us when we were young," Astoria gave a humourless chuckle. "Just like the Tale of Three Brothers or The Warlock's Hairy Heart. But seeing Cedric just… the Killing Curse… it's real… it's…"
Harry sunk into his own thoughts as Astoria's words trailed off. He was back at the graveyard. He was back in a nameless room. The same glassy eyes were staring at him.
"Hey," the voice brought him back to his body.
Astoria was inches away from his face, tiptoed to compensate for the difference in height. Her eyes seemed to be staring into his soul.
"Alright there, Potter?" Astoria asked softly.
There was a minute of silence as Harry tried to find his reply. Astoria stayed on her toes, looking patiently at him until he finally found his voice.
"Yes."
Satisfied, Astoria moved back, her heels back onto the floor. She looked at Pensieve, now apprehensive of the innocuous wisps of silver. She turned back to Harry, a newfound resolve taking over the apprehension.
"The Ministry isn't ready for this," Astoria stated bluntly.
Harry had to hold back a humourless chuckle of his own, appreciating the shift in topic. He would gladly rail against the current state of the Ministry.
"I've been saying that for some time," Harry snorted. "Why else do you think I started training other students on proper defence instead of the shit Umbridge teaches."
Astoria gaped at Harry before shaking her head and pacing about the room.
"Potter, no offence but training a group of students is not an ideal solution for this," Astoria declared heatedly, shaking her arms in disagreement. "That was an organised group with resources and experience. We need the Aurors to prepare as well."
"I wonder what Dumbledore's been doing," Harry crossed his arms, the words slipping from his mouth sardonically. "I'm sure Fudge was tripping over himself improving the Aurors and Hit Wizards."
Astoria paused in her steps, looking away abashedly. She bit her lip and furrowed her eyebrows while Harry watched on, waiting for the opportunity to be done with this. He had proven his point after all. However, when Astoria finally spoke again, her sharp reply caught him off guard.
"What did Dumbledore do?" Astoria tilted her head in question. "He hasn't done anything but give publicly embarrassing statements to the Ministry. Alright… maybe there were things he did behind the scenes but they haven't been all too effective, haven't they?"
Harry stared at Astoria in disbelief, he had not been expecting much, maybe a halfhearted apology. Instead, she had challenged him back adamantly.
"And how do you propose we accomplish what Dumbledore couldn't" Harry asked doubtfully.
"Did Dumbledore ever use this Pensieve memory of yours?"
"No, I thought you said memories could be modified."
"Hmm…" Astoria bit her lip once more. "Is there anyone in the Ministry… who would be neutral… not corrupt… powerful position… capable."
"A long list you have there, Greengrass," Harry quipped dryly.
"Shut up," Astoria retorted. "There has to be someone at least in the Wizengamot who would believe you, someone wouldn't automatically declare your memories as modified and give it some degree of consideration."
"Madam Bones?" Harry threw out the first name he thought of. "She declared me innocent during my court hearing in front of the entire Wizengamot."
"You were in a what!?" Astoria exclaimed in shock before shaking her head. "No, that's besides the point… wait… Madam Bones!"
A smile lit up in the girl's face as she continued her pacing of the room. She was shaking her finger, muttering to herself before she stopped and clenched her fist, saying a hush and excited 'yes!' to herself.
"It will be very difficult to set up a meeting with Madam Bones, she is the Head of the DMLE after all. But… maybe-"
"I'll ask Susan Bones to help," Harry interjected. "She's close with Madam Bones from what I know."
"Nice," said Astoria, the smile on her face growing wider.
"What's your plan?" Harry asked warily.
"Well…" Astoria drew out the word impishly before placing a finger on her lips, her whimsical side resurfacing in full force. "If you manage to get that meeting, you'll find out. Even disregarding that, it will still be good to show hard evidence to the Head of the DMLE."
Harry let out a groan as Astoria gave a cheery wave before leaving the Room of Requirement. He checked his watch and realised that his DA meeting was about to start soon, the early birds would no doubt arrive at any moment. With thoughts still wandering, Harry got about preparing the room for the DA meeting, the Pensieve basin vanishing only to be replaced with target dummies.
Ron and Hermione had been the first to arrive, helping him with setting up the room. Soon, the rest of the DA arrived, eager faces looking at him. A mix of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, all of them students. Though he was a student just like all of them, Harry suddenly found himself very out of place.
Like a stain of black, a blot.
Envy crept to his mind as he saw their excitement, he wished he could wound back the clock and feel the same. Harry began to understand, he began to understand the looks that the adults would give whenever the war was discussed. When Ron asked Mr Weasley about the Dark Mark, when Harry himself asked Sirius about the fights he had with the Death Eaters.
Harry himself only had it in several moments in his life, contained in sporadic bursts of hours; the people who first fought Voldemort endured it for years. He remembered telling Hermione that it was not about memorising spells, that it was down to guts and the reflex, the ability to think and act under pressure.
A chuckle escaped his lips, the dawning realisation of how unprepared the people in front of him were had begun to set in. Then, a sigh, he had agreed to the DA for the purpose of preparing them. Harry did not even know if he was prepared, but compared to Umbridge, he knew he was their best shot.
"Uhh… Harry?" Hermione waved her hand gingerly. "We're waiting."
"Right," Harry nodded, a few in the DA had mastered the selection of spells he had taught, they could start preparing for the next step. "For today, I'll be trying something new. Those of you who haven't properly mastered the spells we've been learning can continue to practise. As for those who have gotten the spells down, you'll be taking turns duelling with me."
"We already do duels while practising spells," said Zacharias Smith. "What's so special about this one?"
Harry paused for a moment, taking the time to properly visualise the objects and surroundings he wanted the Room of Requirement to conjure. The walls of the room began to shift and morph, the DA members looking on with curiosity. Harry already knew, duels were seldom held on a wide open platform in a real fight. It was a forest or a tight corridor, where the enemy could hide from sight and movement was much more limited.
A pitch black robe materialised in Harry's hands, its design unique from the usual wizarding robes, followed by a mask. The design was based on his memory but Harry figured it was the closest to the Death Eater regalia he could ever get.
He flung the robe over his shoulder and slid his arms through, placing the mask against his face. The lights in the room dimmed and behind Harry formed a replica of one of the streets in Diagon Alley. The ceiling became that of the Hogwarts Great Hall, altered to show an open night sky.
Suddenly, every member understood what was special about the duels Harry was proposing.
"We formed this to get to prepare and understand what it's like fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters," Harry said with a steely edge. "You can't really learn to swim without being in water, but I want all of you to get a taste. Those not confident can- no, should back out. Otherwise, we can take turns in pairs, the idea is that you should never face a Death Eater alone."
Many of the DA members returned to the usual routine, training their spellwork and accuracy. Only a portion approached Harry, who gave a look over at them. He had to send a handful back - Colin Creevey had been disappointed - knowing that they were not up to scratch.
"So… who wants to go first?"
There was a silence among the few who opted to stay, nervous glances being thrown at one another. Harry would not fault them, it meant they were cautious.
Surprisingly, it was Neville who stepped forward. Harry chided himself at the surprise, the fellow Gryffindor had grown leaps and bounds since joining the DA. Hermione joined in a second later, a nervous but determined look on her face.
"Alright then," Harry nodded. "I move to the other side, we start when I shoot red sparks into the sky."
"Wait!" Hermione raised her hand. "We should have viewing platforms."
"So that we can let everyone see us get stomped?" Ron asked, earning a small wave of laughter from the crowd.
"No! So that we can learn from others' mistakes."
"Sure," Harry shrugged, turning to leave. "I'll leave that one to you, Hermione. Also, there's no restriction on spells used."
They got into their positions, Harry could not see where Neville and Hermione were as the mock street he made was not straight. He raised his wand and fired the red sparks towards the 'sky'. Taking a deep breath, Harry rehearsed his next steps in his mind, noting the spells he was about to use. He had given them the order to use everything in their arsenal, he would expect them to stick to nonlethal spells. On the off chance they bothered using lethal spells, Harry would not complain, he needed the practice.
There was no way he would ever look Anne in the eye if he could not do that much. There was no way he would ever survive Voldemort if he could not do that much.
He stalked down along the side of the street, his movements and sense much sharper than it had ever been in months, the peculiar feeling of misplaced familiarity.
"Homenum Revelio," Harry flicked his wand, shifting his position as soon as he received the feedback from the spell.
Neville and Hermione walked down the middle of the street, one watching left and the other watching right. Harry stayed behind the wall, waiting for the two to come as close as possible. As they crossed an imaginary line Harry had drawn out, he darted out from his position.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry roared, his voice altered by the presence of his mask.
The jet of green light shot from his wand, surging towards Neville. Both of them froze on the spot, faces turning pale as their legs locked stiff. Harry's spell hit Neville squarely on the chest, throwing him onto the floor.
Hermione gave a cry of panic, aiming her wand and firing a Stunner wildly. The spell missed by a wide margin as Harry advanced, concentrating on his next spell.
"CONFRINGO!"
A bolt of fire left his wand, colliding against the mock shop behind Hermione. Harry gave a mental twist of magic and the bolt of fire morphed into a shower of embers and sparks. Hermione leapt for cover, all sense of decorum abandoned as she landed onto the floor with a grunt.
It was not lethal, Harry doubted had the ability to nonverbally cast Incendio to such a degree. However, the purpose was not to inflict harm, it was to expose to the other a sense of pressure similar to what Harry himself had faced too many times.
"Impedimenta!"
This time the aim was true, the spell flying directly at Harry. He blocked it with a Shield Charm and replied with a Revulsion Jinx. He gave no incantation, allowing Hermione's psyche to assume the worst as the purple spell left his wand. It hit Hermione in the shoulder, forcefully wrenching her from her wand. She hit the floor once more, wand clattering a distance away from her. Fear gripped her as she looked up at the dark figure.
"That was alright, you managed to get a grip and fight back in the end," Harry gave a nod, relaxing his stance immediately.
The sentence came abruptly and Hermione gaped in disbelief, turning to Neville only to find her partner barfing slugs onto the floor. The boy was in obvious discomfort but clearly alive.
"T-that w.-wa… that wasn't a…" Hermione stammered, causing Harry to take pity on his friend.
He reached out a hand and pulled her up, summoning her wand before casting the counter-curse on Neville. He turned to the spectator platforms the Room of Requirement had created at the behest of Hermione, only to find wide-eyed stares.
"Really puts the 'die' in Diagon Alley, innit?" George commented, easing the tension as a nervous wave of chuckles broke across the DA.
"Who's next?" Harry's blank response brought the tension back.
Slowly, the portion of DA who volunteered all had their turns, with the rest of the DA occasionally watching a few of the matches. Harry had been mercilessly harsh, using loud bangs and flashes of lights on top of the spells, all to put pressure on his opponents. Nearly all of them froze up the first time a 'Killing Curse' was sent their way, but there had been improvement after each turn. Harry could only hope that such training would effectively translate during a real fight.
Nobody had managed to beat him, the closest had been a joint effort by Neville and Luna - whom Harry had practically deemed as the dark horses of the DA. The Gryffindor-Ravenclaw duo had been the only ones to use lethal spells like the Reductor Curse without hesitation. By the end of the session, there was a stark difference in exhaustion between those who fought Harry and those who did not.
"Uhhh… Susan, mind if I have a word?" Harry approached a group of Hufflepuffs. The students had begun leaving in small groups back to their common rooms and Harry decided to act on Astoria's request before it slipped his mind.
"Sure," Susan Bones nodded, following Harry to a corner of the room. "Is this about my performance during the duel?"
"No, you did fine," Harry grinned automatically. "It's something else. Your aunt's the Head of the DMLE, right?"
"Yeah…" Susan replied hesitantly. "Why?"
"Is it possible for you to set up a meeting between me and Madam Bones?" Harry asked. "I've some information regarding Voldemort that I should show her."
"Oh, sure," Susan nodded in understanding. "I'll send an owl to her, but I can't promise anything."
"Thanks," said Harry. "Umbridge is watching the owls, so make sure your letters don't reveal much."
Susan gave another nod before rejoining her housemates and leaving the Room of Requirement. As was the tradition, the last to leave the place was him with Ron and Hermione. Harry checked the Marauder's Map before giving Ron and Hermione a thumbs up.
"Your sister didn't come for this one, huh?" Ron shoved his hands into his pockets, filling the silence.
"It's fine," Harry shook his head with a grimace.
"Also, what were you talking about with Susan?" Hermione asked.
"Just getting…" Harry started before trailing off, an idea forming in his head. He shook his head slightly, not intent on dragging his friends into Astoria's schemes. However, the idea he had was worth sharing. "It's personal."
Hermione raised her hands calmly in defence. "It's alright."
"But I have a question for you, Hermoine," said Harry. "Did what I say, did what Dumbledore say, ever end up in public ears?"
"Not that I know," Hermione replied. "Dumbledore spoke about it only during several Wizengamot meetings before the Daily Prophet started its campaign."
"Is there any way to let the public know?" Harry asked, it was one thing to show evidence to the Head of DMLE, but getting word to the public would be immensely helpful. Even if the public believed him to be crazy.
"I'll need to think about this," Hermione hummed thoughtfully.
As they gave the Fat Lady the password and entered their common rooms, the trio headed for a cluster of couches. They took their seats and Ron stretched his arms immediately.
"Today was brutal," Ron chuckled. "I'm completely knackered. Harry, don't bother waking me up tomorrow, I'll skive History if I have to."
"It certainly had a different pace," Hermione shot Ron a glare as Harry snorted. "I had thought we were moving on to learning a new spell but this… this was honestly terrifying."
Harry stopped in his step, guilt and confusion mixing into an uncomfortable miasma. It was because of Anne that Harry made such a shift in tempo, there was no doubt of that. He was scared, he was anxious, of all the things that now seemed too insurmountable for him. To take another life, Anne had given him that burden and Harry had subconsciously tried giving it to the DA as well.
"Did I push the DA too hard?" Harry sighed, running his hand over his messy hair. "I'm not sure if that was the right thing to do… I mean… it's not really fair to expose this much to students."
Was he doing this just so that others could feel a semblance of his pain?
"Harry, you're a student too," Hermione reminded.
Was he that shallow?
"And a messed up one at that," Harry grimaced, regret seeping to his voice. "No one should go through what I have and… I don't think I should have placed that pressure on all of us."
"But that was real fighting, innit?" Ron shrugged. "Merlin, I'm not saying I enjoyed getting thrown around like a garden gnome but it was a good lesson."
"Yeah, Ron's right," Hermione nodded in agreement. "Voldemort's back after all, and if the Ministry doesn't get their act together… I think it's better that we go through this under your supervision than in an actual Death Eater raid."
Harry released another tired sigh, burying his face in his hands.
"Mate, it's alright," Ron slapped Harry in the back. "We'll follow your lead, the rest of the DA will too."
"It's not that," Harry muttered. "I'm just worried a time will come where we will have to kill. All of us."
