Chapter 66 – Paying the Piper
After they had set up the body of the snake where it would undoubtedly be noticed the next morning—taking great care to remain unseen—Harry and Ginny retreated from the vicinity of the manor, once again hiding themselves behind the sparse foliage and rolling hills of the region. The hollow in which the battle with Nagini had taken place had apparently been enough to hide them from the notice of Voldemort's followers. No one had come out to discover the reason for the fracas—the entire event appeared to have gone unnoticed.
Or perhaps Voldemort's followers were as lazy as Snape had suggested. Privately, Harry thought that it would have been strategically sound to have had the environs patrolled by his forces, but either the Dark Lord was too arrogant and confident in his own infallibility, or he had simply not thought to initiate such an effort. Was it perhaps a failing of the magical world in general to ignore such things? Harry had long known that there were things about his new world which made little logical sense, but he thought that a simple thing such as keeping an eye on one's surroundings would be obvious. Regardless, Voldemort had paid a heavy price for this oversight that night.
"Harry, let's get out of here," Ginny said where she waited by his side.
Glancing at Ginny, Harry noted her fearful looks about the area and the slight tremble, though he didn't know whether it was in response to the cool temperature, or the horror they had just survived. The memories of this place would forever be with them both, Harry expected, but she was right—it was time to leave it behind and allow them to become just that—memories.
"All right," he told her.
Grasping hold of the parchment which was still in one of his pockets—though it had become rather crumpled—he took hold of her hand. With one last look about the area, he activated the portkey, and they were both whisked away from Voldemort's hideout.
But if they had any intention of returning to their dorm rooms undetected, that idea was done away with the moment they arrived in Hogwarts environs. Harry barely had time to draw his wand and search for any threats in the night. What he found, however, was something completely unexpected.
A light sprang up moments after they landed, and under that light, Harry could see two stern-faced men, one holding his wand aloft to provide the light streaming from it, and the other holding his wand pointed out at the two teens. It was clear from the grim looks fixed upon the two that these men were unimpressed with something, and with a sinking feeling, Harry was certain he understood what had happened. Their absence had been noted, and now it was time to pay the price for their actions.
"Mr. Potter?" the man covering them with his wand queried. "Miss Weasley?"
Straightening his posture, Harry lowered his wand. "Yes, that's us."
The Auror—for that's what Harry now thought the man was, lowered his own wand in response and approached them, peering at them critically.
"Looks like you've had an adventure tonight," the man said after studying them for a moment. "I won't ask you where you've been, though. There are lots of people looking for you, and I expect you'll have to answer quite a few questions before the night is through."
As it was nothing less than he had expected, Harry nodded tightly, and allowed the two Aurors to escort them back into Hogwarts. They were marched away from the entry hall and up the stairs, and Harry guessed—correctly, it appeared—that they were taking him toward the Headmaster's office, as he would have expected, knowing that Dumbledore would be aware of their absence. There was no one else in evidence in the hallways—the hour being very early in the morning before any students would be moving about, especially since it was a Saturday—not even other Aurors searching for him. Harry supposed that made sense, considering the fact that Dumbledore would have known that they were not at Hogwarts.
The gargoyle was standing to the side of the stairway, allowing access to the Headmaster's office, though Harry had a sinking feeling that even the stone statue was staring at them with reproach. Climbing the stairs was the work of a moment before the door had been pushed open, and Harry and Ginny were guided into the room. The array of faces which met their return caused Harry's prior feeling to be magnified substantially—not only were the Delacours and the Weasleys there, but Hermione and Fleur, those Weasley siblings who attended Hogwarts, Sirius and McGonagall were all present. And all watched as Harry and Ginny entered the room, and their expressions did not take a genius to interpret. Clearly they were in a whole heap of trouble, not only from the adults and leaders of the school, but also from their friends, and Harry's ladies. This would not be pleasant.
But knowing that Nagini was now no longer a threat, and that Voldemort was now down one more horcrux, Harry raised his chin defiantly and glared back at the sea of accusing faces. The silence their entrance prompted lasted a split second before it seemed like everyone began talking at once.
Hermione and Fleur approached him and each one put their arms around him, while Ginny was caught up in the midst of her family, while everyone spoke at once. The Delacours soon approached, clearly wanted to be assured that Harry was indeed well, and after a close inspection—provided by Apolline—he was pronounced fit and ready to stand trial for his deeds. Only Dumbledore, who watched them all closely, McGonagall, who looked on with an implacable expression of disapproval, and Sirius, who appeared to be so mad he could spit nails, kept themselves aloof from the scrum. And the general cacophony of those speaking all at once kept Harry from truly catching any of the words which were spoken.
After Harry and Ginny had been deemed fit, the Headmaster cleared his throat, quieting the room.
"Thank you, Auror Stinson," he spoke to their two escorts. "Where did you find them?"
"Just outside the ward boundaries, sir," the Auror replied. "We were returning to the entry hall to report on our search, when we noticed them there."
"And how did they get there?" Sirius asked.
"I'm not sure. They were already there when I noticed, so I can't be certain."
"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Thank you for your efforts tonight. Please ask Director Shacklebolt to stand down the search. I will inform the Minister tomorrow when I have learned from our two wayward adventurers where they have been."
Bowing, the two men left the room, leaving Harry and Ginny at the dubious mercy of everyone else in the office. Not that the Aurors could have been persuaded to support them, Harry suspected. If Shacklebolt and the Minister had been involved, it was likely most of the Auror department had been rousted from their beds to search for them.
With the departure of the Aurors, all attention focused on Harry, and though he attempted to appear unaffected by their examination, he could not help but feel intimidated.
"You look like hell, Harry," Sirius commented, though the hard look of barely suppressed anger seemed to belie his seemingly joking statement.
"I feel like it," Harry replied.
"Then perhaps you should share the reason why you have returned in such a state, and where you have been all evening," the Headmaster prompted. "And perhaps most importantly, you should explain why you decided to run off without permission."
"We've been…" Harry paused, looking at Professor McGonagall, knowing he had to be careful. "I went to deal with a problem which required my attention."
"Is this regarding your specific problem, Harry?" Dumbledore queried.
"Yes, sir," Harry replied.
In an instant Dumbledore had his wand out, and the series of privacy spells issued forth, protecting the office and the information about to be discussed. "Then you may speak openly. Given the events of the night and suspecting that you may have done something rash with respect to the Dark Lord, I felt it was only prudent—and fair—that Professor McGonagall be informed of your specific dilemma, especially since she is a key member of the Order and was the first staff member to be notified of your absence."
For the briefest of moments, Harry felt his ire being raised. Being a horcrux was his problem—his and Ginny's. Should they both not have some say over who was given the information about so sensitive a subject?
A moment later, however, his anger had deflated. There was no reason for it after all, as Harry was certain that the Professor could be trusted with his interests, not to mention the fact that the oaths would ensure her compliance. And besides, he was just too tired to work up a head of steam for something which really did not matter.
"We're waiting, Harry," Jean-Sebastian prompted him, and his tone was anything but patience.
For a moment Harry considered what exactly he should tell them, wondering if it might be better not to come up with something, rather than admit to the truth. As soon as the thought entered his head, he rejected it, knowing that they needed to be informed about the destruction of a horcrux. Besides, they would find out the truth soon enough, and Harry was not certain he could obfuscate effectively given how tired he was.
"We went to kill Nagini," Harry finally replied.
"Come again?" Sirius asked, his tone incredulous.
"Nagini is—was—a horcrux," Harry explained, and though he tried to keep his tone even, even he would admit that a touch of impatient arrogance found its way into his voice. "We all suspected this. Anyone who killed the snake risked becoming a horcrux themselves, so I decided that I needed to do it. So I went and found it and killed it. Voldemort has one less horcrux now."
If Harry thought that this declaration would focus attention away from the fact that he had gone out without asking, prompting a manhunt in response, he was destined to be disappointed. A room of incredulous glares met his declaration, and the already angry faces darkened even further.
"Now let me get this straight," Sirius grit out. "You decided on your own that Nagini needed killing and that you were the only one who could do it. So you snuck out of Hogwarts, leaving everyone wondering what in Merlin's name had happened to you, traveled all the way to Voldemort's lair, found a great big ruddy snake who never leaves the Dark Tosser's side, and managed to kill it. Do I understand you right, or have I missed something in the translation?"
The fireplace flared at that moment, and the Minister stepped into the office. Noting the tension in the office, not to mention Harry, seated by Ginny, with the entire room focused on them, she immediately came to the correct conclusion.
"This would have all the appearance of an inquisition," she stated to no one in particular.
"If you stay long enough, it might be followed by a public flogging," Sirius muttered, to which the Minister grinned mirthlessly.
She took an empty seat and turned to peer at Harry and his confederate. "I will assume that you were just being asked exactly where you were tonight. I will admit that I am curious as well. Would you care to answer?"
"Apparently, Minister," Jean-Sebastian interjected, "Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley were out hunting snakes tonight."
The Minister glanced over at Jean-Sebastian with a raised eyebrow. "Can I assume that you are talking about a particular snake?"
"Maybe Harry should tell us himself," Sirius said with disgust.
All eyes—or at least the few not already focused on him—returned to Harry, and he felt compelled to respond, "Yes it was Nagini."
"Not to cast any aspersions on your truthfulness or your intelligence," Sirius spat with a healthy measure of disgust evident in his voice, "but are you sure that it was Nagini? I'd hate to think you went to all this trouble to gut some poor garter snake who was just minding his own business."
Harry's nostrils flared in anger and he glared at Sirius. "Hello. Parselmouth here. Yes I'm certain it was Nagini—I can talk to snakes, you know."
"You'd better moderate your tone, Harry," Sirius snapped. "You might find yourself washing dirty cauldrons and cleaning toilets until you're ninety!"
"Let us all settle down a little, shall we," Dumbledore interposed himself into the argument. "I understand your anger, Sirius, but I believe we need to handle this in a rational manner and not allow our emotions to get the best of us." The Headmaster paused for a few moments as he regarded Harry severely. "I believe you owe us all an accounting, Harry. Please, tell us what happened tonight."
Feeling drained and wanting nothing more than to go to his bed—even a shower could wait until morning!—Harry nonetheless understood that he would not be allowed such a luxury until he assuaged their collective curiosity, and likely accepted his punishment. Therefore, he launched into his story of the events of the night, and knowing that the Headmaster would almost certainly be scanning him with passive Legilimency, Harry was as truthful as he could possibly be. He spoke not only of how he had come to the conclusion that he needed to be the one to kill Nagini, but how he had learned of the snake's absence and had left the school when he had had the chance, through to the arrival outside Voldemort's lair, to the search, and finally the battle and the slaying of the snake. The only things he left out were the manner in which Ginny had joined him—he was more than willing to take most of the heat for her in thanks for her help and support (not to mention that it had been his idea in the first place)—and the assistance Snape had given. The man had actually been of some assistance, and Harry would not betray him for his trouble, regardless of what Snape's motivation may have been. He only hoped that Dumbledore had not been able to detect his omission.
At the end of his explanation, while there was understanding, there was even more anger in the faces of those who confronted them.
"Now then, shall we handle this one point at a time?" Jean-Sebastian took up the inquisition. "First, you opened your connection to Voldemort multiple times for the purpose of spying on him, when you were expressly told not to. Then, you left he school grounds without permission, taking Miss Weasley along with you, I might add, into uncertainty and danger. Then you stalked the Dark Lord's own familiar, an animal which was strongly suspected of being under a powerful magic which made her even more deadly than she would usually be. And finally, you engaged in a running battle with said snake, barely surviving the night without major injury or death, all within close proximity to where your greatest enemy who desires your death above all other things could have seen what you were doing.
"Have I missed anything?" he demanded. "Or is there some other wonderful piece of insight you wish to provide us with?"
Knowing that Jean-Sebastian was on the verge of lashing out even more than he already was, Harry forced his own responding anger down, and responded dispassionately.
"No, sir. That pretty much covers it."
Jean-Sebastian's expression tightened even further in fury, though Harry had taken pains not to appear glib. Any explosion of ire was interrupted, however, by Ron suddenly inserting himself into the conversation.
"What I want to know is why you dragged my sister into this, Potter," he hissed.
"Shut it, Ron!' Ginny snapped. "Harry didn't drag me into anything. I went along uninvited and essentially forced him to let me stay there."
Harry glared at Ginny, but she rolled her eyes. "I'm not letting you take the heat for me too, Harry," she told him, her tone a little prim. "You didn't invite me, and everyone needs to know that."
"That's all well and good," Arthur Weasley said, directing a stern glare at his daughter. "But I would suggest you be silent, Ginny. You're in just as much trouble as Harry."
Meekly, Ginny looked down at her hands folded on her lap. Harry, though, continued to look defiantly back at the array of accusing faces. He had only done what needed to be done, and though he had broken rules and put himself in danger, it had been necessary. No one else could have done it safely. The punishment would be severe, he was certain, but Harry would not shirk from what he knew his duty to be. And that duty consisted of seeing Voldemort defeated, and ensuring that those he left behind were able to live in a world without his ideals threatening their very existence.
"I would like to know how you even managed to find Voldemort," Dumbledore stated, peering at Harry intently. "Furthermore, how were you even able to travel there in the first place? You seem to have left that out of your recitation."
Knowing that Dumbledore could potentially pick up his thoughts—though he knew he was becoming proficient in Occlumency Dumbledore had decades of experience in Legilimency—Harry lowered his eyes so that the Headmaster could not look into them and produced his shrunken Firebolt from his pocket. "I do have a means to get around, and I have a connection with the Dark Lord."
"Riding double?" Jean-Sebastian asked.
"I'm good at flying," Harry replied simply. "I can handle a passenger, and the Firebolt doesn't even sweat it."
"We all knew that you could be reckless, Harry," Sirius stated, "but this takes the cake, even for you. You seem to have the idea that every problem needs to be taken care of by the great Harry Potter, and that a little jaunt out on one of your adventures will solve everything. I can't tell you how disappointed I am in you."
Harry felt fury overtake him and he stared at Sirius as though daggers from his eyes were impaling Sirius where he sat. "Seems to me my adventures have saved this school more often than not," Harry retorted. "In fact, I seem to remember you benefiting directly from my adventures. In fact, if I had not gone out on an adventure in my third year to save your butt, you would have been a Dementor's lunch!"
"The point is," Jean-Sebastian interjected, forestalling any further response from Sirius, "that you have this consistent pattern of flouting the rules whenever you deem it necessary, and that you throw yourself into danger without a second thought."
"I gave it plenty of thought," Harry exclaimed defensively. "I planned exactly how I could find the snake and kill her."
"And you almost got killed yourself," Jean-Sebastian pointed out.
Harry threw up his hands in frustration, and when he was able to look back on the events of that night, he knew that his fatigue had dulled his senses and he had said exactly the wrong thing in response to Jean-Sebastian's accusation.
"You people all seem to forget that I AM GOING TO DIE!" Harry thundered. "I've got this stupid horcrux stuck to my soul, and it's not going anywhere.
"I'll do anything to see that bastard defeated! If I had died tonight and still managed to defeat Nagini, I would consider it to be a fair trade. At least then Voldemort would be vulnerable."
From a few seats down Hermione burst into tears and rose to her feet to confront him. She appeared almost wild as she glared at him, tears running down her cheeks, even while the fire of anger and disappointment glowed from those glorious eyes. In her indignation and anger, Harry was idly struck by the thought that she had never before looked so beautiful.
"Are you so willing to die?" Hermione demanded. "In fact, it appears that you're eager to accept death."
"I'm not eager to die, Hermione," Harry said, immediately on the defensive again.
"I don't know that I believe you," Hermione retorted. "You know, we may have an idea now of how to remove the horcrux from the two of you. But I'm not certain I want to continue to have anything to do with you even if we can remove it, if you've got a death wish."
With a final contemptuous glare—which startled Harry as much as her words—Hermione turned and ran from the office leaving those remaining in silence in the wake of her departure.
Harry did not know what to think. A solution to his problem had been found? How, and by whom? And more importantly, could it possibly give him the life that he even now so desperately wanted? A glance about the room revealed a group of pitiless glares, and for the first time, though Harry had known that what he had done was risky and dangerous, he began to see that these people had all agonized over his disappearance, and the fact that they could not know what had happened to him.
For the first time that evening, Harry see past the self-righteous justifications he had built up in his mind, and understand the selfishness which had led to his actions. And for the first time that evening, Harry began to feel ashamed of what he had done.
Silence descended over the room after Hermione fled, and for the first time that evening, Fleur could see a bit of remorse on the face of her betrothed. Nodding grimly to herself, she was heartened to finally see that he was coming to an understanding of his actions and how they had affected everyone around him.
But it really was, she supposed, part and parcel to Harry's character. He was generous to a fault, loving, and fiercely protective of anyone he considered to be his friend—doubly so for both Hermione and herself—which had been his primary motivation for what he had done that night. But he was also stubborn to a fault and he tended to believe, as Sirius so aptly, but inelegantly, put, that every problem which came along required his personal attention. And perhaps the most disturbing, he thought nothing of putting himself in harm's way. But this fatalism which had set Hermione off was a relatively new facet of his character—or at least Fleur had never seen it before. Fleur had seen him transform from a somewhat angry and moody young man into the happier and more content version she now saw him as. Perhaps the fatalism had been there before, though she did not think so. It was maybe unsurprising, considering what he had had to live with for the past months—and especially the past few weeks—but that did not make it any less troubling.
When the silence was broken, it was the Headmaster who spoke up, and while his words and manner were stern, his expression was kind and understanding.
"Harry, we all understand that this has been difficult for you; and Miss Weasley, of course," he said with a glance and a smile at Ginny. "No one doubts your sincerity, and certainly no one can doubt your bravery and your desire to see Voldemort defeated.
"However, there are times your judgment does come into question. Miss Weasley undoubtedly exercised poor judgment herself when she insisted upon accompanying you on your mission, but you were the instigator of the entire affair. You must accept responsibility for it."
"Yes, sir," Harry responded. "I never thought anything different."
Dumbledore nodded. "That you know that is good at least. Now, I think with the emotions which have been unleashed tonight, extensive discussion on the matter can only be counter-productive. However, there are a few things I would like to clarify before we send you both to your beds for what remains of the night."
Though Harry appeared as though he wanted this night to finally end, he nodded gamely.
"The first question I have is about Nagini. Now that she is dead, we need to be certain—was she a horcrux?"
"Yes, sir," Harry replied without any hesitation.
"How do you know?" Sirius queried.
"Other than the fact that an indistinct form rose from her corpse and screamed bloody murder when it couldn't find another host?"
Glances were exchanged around the office, but it was left to Ron to voice what everyone there was thinking.
"Bloody hell, Harry."
Harry nodded, but he did not say anything further.
"I guess that's clear enough then," Sirius said, nodding to Dumbledore.
"Obviously, it is a good thing that the snake is dead," Dumbledore inserted into the conversation. "However, I do have a few more questions for you. First, are you sure you went undetected by Voldemort's forces?"
"Yes, sir," Harry replied. "Most of the fight with Nagini happened in a small depression—I'm pretty sure that it hid most of the spellfire from the manor. Besides, no one ever showed up to investigate."
"Very well. Also, what are the chances that Voldemort will discover the death of his familiar?"
Fleur did not miss the glance shared by Harry and Ginny, and she was pretty certain that no one else did either. No more than they missed the spots of color which showed up on Harry's cheeks.
"I'd say it's pretty much guaranteed, sir," Harry finally answered.
"Oh," Sirius asked. "Do tell."
"Well…" Harry began, though clearly reluctant to tell them what he had done. "We… umm… may have… uh… impaled the body on… umm… on a… stake out in front of the manor Voldemort uses as his base." Harry's final words came out in a rush, and more than one eyebrow raised in response.
"May have?" Jean-Sebastian drawled as Sirius chortled.
"I must admit," the Marauder said while chuckling and shaking his head, "you've certainly got stones, Harry. I'm pretty sure your dad would be laughing uproariously at the prank you've just played on Voldemort. Or at least he would be after he and your mother got through tanning your hide for going off half-cocked like that."
Trust Sirius to let go of his anger and turn Harry's actions into a prank, though Fleur had to admit that his words had the effect of lessening the tension in the office. What Harry had done was still reckless and irresponsible, but Fleur had to admit that Nagini being gone was certainly a thing to be desired. At least he had made it through alive. She certainly could not question his determination or resourcefulness. All other considerations paled in comparison to the fact of his safe return, though she was still angry with him for what he had put them through.
"Getting back on topic," Dumbledore interjected, though he did not appear angry over the interruptions, "that may have been a very rash thing to do, Harry, though I suppose we should assume that the Dark Lord would have discovered it sooner or later."
"Perhaps," the Minister said, glaring at Harry. "But I can assure you that Mr. Potter's adventure tonight will almost certainly result in a fresh wave of attacks."
"That it will. And I don't doubt, given your reaction to Voldemort's intense emotions, that it will not be pleasant when he discovers the snake."
Harry blanched, but he nodded tightly. "The thought had occurred to me too, sir. It's nothing I haven't handled before."
"I think you're underestimating just how furious he will be," Dumbledore replied, but he let the matter drop.
"Then one final thing and we can all seek our beds." He gazed steadily at Harry. "Miss Granger was indeed correct when she said that she had thought of a potential way to rid you both of the soul shards you host. She has told me of her idea, and I believe that it may be possible.
"However, as the night is growing long everyone is tired and still overwrought, I believe we should have that discussion once we all have had a chance to rest and restore our equilibrium after tonight's excitement. Are we agreed?"
A general murmur indicated the consensus of the group, and they began to break up and go their separate ways, the Minister and the Weasleys and Delacours to the Floo, while everyone else began making their way to their own quarters. Of course it was Sirius who had to get one last dig in before Harry was allowed to leave.
"Are you two able to find your way back to Gryffindor tower, or do I need to escort you there myself?"
Harry smiled wanly. "Believe me, Sirius, I don't have the energy for any more adventures tonight."
"Good," the Marauder replied. "I'd hate for you to get lost on your way back to your bed.
"And don't think that just because we've tabled the discussion for tonight that there won't be consequences for your escapade."
"I never thought so for a moment."
With a tight nod, Sirius stalked from the room, leaving Harry in the company of Fleur and the Weasley children as they followed him out and down the stairs to the corridor below. They began walking away from the office, and the group was silent for several moments before Ron spoke up.
"Harry, look, I'm sorry I said that about Ginny. I know you'd never put her in danger."
"It's fine," Harry replied, looking tired and dispirited. "You're right. I should have made her come back."
"I didn't give you a choice and you know it," Ginny said, a hint of irritation coloring her voice.
"I suppose not," Harry replied. "You know, I should be getting used to it anyway. Fleur and Hermione invited themselves along to the Ministry when they were supposed to stay here, so you doing the same shouldn't have been that much of a surprise." Falling silent for a moment, Harry frowned. "How did you know what I was planning, anyway?"
Ginny shrugged. "Knowing what I do about you and seeing your state of mind, I kept a close eye on you. I didn't know what you were planning, but you looked like Christmas had come early when Fleur left to get Hermione, so I figured you were up to something. You were so intent on getting away and making sure you didn't run into anyone, that you were pretty lax about making sure you weren't being followed."
"But I checked behind to see if anyone was following all the way down to the entrance hall."
"You did," Ginny agreed with a smug smile, "but you weren't specifically on the look out for someone disillusioned. It was child's play to keep up with you."
Harry eschewed a response, merely contenting himself with a shake of his head at his own single-mindedness.
"You know," one of the twins said in a conversational tone, "you, Hermione and Ronnie here have pulled some crazy stunts since you came here, but this one has to take the cake."
"I can't dispute that."
"The point is, you should really take us along," the other twin said with a grin. "We're beginning to feel left out."
"I'll keep that in mind," was Harry's wry reply. "The next time I have an idea for a crazy mission which I'm not sure I'll survive, I'll be sure to let you guys know."
"Merlin forbid," Fleur interjected, having had just about enough of their bantering. "I certainly hope you've learned your lesson."
Harry did not reply; he just shook his head and continued walking. A moment later she heard him murmur, "I guess Hermione's pretty mad at me."
Fleur rolled her eyes, fixing him with a look that screamed "You think?" The looks he was receiving from the Weasleys were even more blatant than the one Fleur had fixed him with.
"You guys go on ahead," she said, grasping Harry's arm and pulling him to a stop. "I think I'd like to have a word with Sir Snakeslayer here."
"Oops, looks like she's mad at you Harry," one of the twins ribbed.
"Better hope she doesn't fry you on the spot," said the other. "She's almost as scary a witch as our Hermione."
"I heard she can toss fireballs at will."
"All right you two," snapped Fleur. "Bugger off!"
The twins grinned and left, dragging their younger siblings along behind them. But as they retreated their bantering continued to echo back down through the hallways.
"You know, brother of mine, I know that Harry's a special case, but I think I'll settle for one girl."
"Two seems to be a little too much," agreed the other twin.
"I hope Harry comes out of this unscathed, even if he kind of does deserve to be skinned alive…"
Fleur rolled her eyes, and focused her attention on Harry, ignoring the retreating Weasleys. Harry appeared as though he would have preferred anything but to have another conversation in which he would rightly expect more references to his adventurous evening. But Fleur had no intention of castigating him again for what he had done that night—he had heard enough from Dumbledore and the others, and she was certain that Harry knew what all of them thought. It was of course related, but Fleur wanted more to make certain that he understand her feelings, and Hermione's too.
"Harry, I want you to know that Hermione and I are very upset with you," she began without preamble. "We both know that this horcrux business has been hard on you, but you don't seem to realize that it has been hard on us too."
Seeming like he wanted to disappear at that moment, Harry nodded his head, but did not raise his eyes from where they were studying the floor.
"Wanting to see Voldemort defeated is a very noble goal," Fleur continued, "but you don't seem to have considered what it would do to us if you were to go off on an impulsive suicide mission and not come back. It would be even harder on us if you left on your own without telling anyone, and got yourself killed. Can you even imagine how we would feel if you disappeared and we found out later—from Voldemort himself, Merlin forbid—that you had died? That is why Hermione and I are so angry."
"But you're still here while Hermione ran off," Harry replied, and though it might be the hour or his fatigue making him act that way, his tone was sulky.
"Don't even start on that, Harry James Potter," Fleur chided. "I'm also two years older than Hermione, with two years of growth and maturity under my belt, and when I saw how upset she was, I knew that I had to hold back my anger and make sure you understood just how angry we both are. Trust me—I was ready to follow her out the moment she left."
Harry nodded, and Fleur thought she saw a measure of defeat in his demeanor. "Good," she thought to herself grimly. "Maybe he'll think twice next time."
"But do you know what the worst thing is?" she demanded, for the first time allowing some of the anger she had been suppressing to show. "The worst thing is the fact that you've given up. That is the hardest part of this to deal with."
Startled, Harry looked up at her, a spark of his earlier anger showing on his face. "I haven't given up!" he shot back. "I told you—I'll do anything to make sure you and Hermione can live in a world where Voldemort is gone."
"And that's where you still do not understand what we're saying!" Fleur replied, her voice rising. "Of course you haven't given up on defeating Voldemort—I have every confidence in the world that even if it took a thousand years, and all you had at your disposal was your bare hands, that you'd fight Voldemort until your last breath. I have no doubt of that.
"What you've given up on is your own future. I'll admit that the situation with the horcrux has been very difficult and it seemed hopeless, but you've never tried to look for a way around it, even when Remus, Dumbledore, and especially Hermione, a girl you claim to love, spent days searching for an answer, sometimes to the detriment of their other responsibilities, and even the need to attend to basic functions such as eating and sleeping. That's what you've given up on. You've given up on us! You've given up on your future with me. You've given up on your future with Hermione."
"I just…" Harry began, but he stopped and passed a tired hand before his eyes. He did not try any further to defend himself, and in truth, his position was indefensible. He seemed to see that now.
"I want you to know that both Hermione and I love you very much," Fleur continued, softening her voice and drawing close enough to him to place a hand on his shoulder. "But we can't live like this. Do you remember just before we learned of the horcruxes when you assured me that you loved me and that neither Hermione nor I would be favored?"
Harry nodded his head, though he still did not look at her. "Do you know that I had seriously been considering asking my father to cancel the marriage contract?"
His head shooting up, Harry gazed at her incredulously. She had finally managed to induce him to look at her.
"I was afraid that I would always be second best, and I didn't want to live that way. I know now," she continued right over him when he tried to interrupt, "that you would never have allowed that, and I'm grateful for that reassurance.
"But you're doing it all over again. And this time, it's yourself that you're putting ahead of both of us.
"Well Hermione and I cannot live with a man who has a death wish. And if you continue this way, you'll drive both of us away. We don't want to live without you and we want you to fight for us as aggressively as you fight against Voldemort. You say that you will do anything—including sacrificing your life—for us. You need to understand that we will also do anything for you.
"And most importantly," she concluded softly, "we want you to live for us, as much as you are willing to die for us. We want you to fight for your life, not lay it down needlessly."
Having had her say, Fleur watched Harry's reaction, and what she saw gave her some hope. The words she had said to him had been hard—probably as hard for him to hear as they had been for her to say, if the tear tracks running down his cheeks were anything to go by. But the words had needed saying. For all that he was generous and kind, Harry was also as selfish a person as she had ever met in some ways. His actions that night had been the height of selfishness.
After allowing Harry to think about things for a few moments, Fleur stepped forward and brushed her lips on his cheek. "I'm going to find Hermione and try to talk to her. I want you to think about what I've said. Then we can talk tomorrow."
At Harry's nod, Fleur walked away, leaving him in the hallway. In truth she felt that neither she nor Hermione would sleep that much tonight—Hermione's anger had been impressive, and she knew that it would be difficult to bring Hermione down from that plateau of fury. Even more, the events of the night had shaken her, and she knew that she and the younger girl would have much to speak of before they would find any rest. With that in mind, she stalked off, noting that Harry made no move to follow her. Hopefully he would make his way back to his dorm that evening, but Fleur decided it would be best to leave it up to him.
For all that Harry Potter was utterly exhausted, it was perhaps unsurprising that he slept very little that night. He stood in the hall thinking about what Fleur had said for some time before he had wearily trudged the rest of the way up to the Gryffindor common room, and after being let in by a sleepy fat lady, made his way up to the dormitories before collapsing in his bed, managing only to divest himself of his clothes in advance.
When he was still awake over an hour and a half later, he gave up on trying to sleep and made his way to the showers, intent upon washing the grime left over from the killing of the snake from his body. Twenty minutes of scrubbing later, and he was beginning to feel almost human again, and hopeful that the taint of Nagini's blood had finally been removed. Then, not wishing to even move, he had turned the temperature of the water up as far as he could stand, and had then leaned up against the wall of the shower, allowing the water to flow down his body as he considered the events of the evening.
If he were to be honest with himself, Harry was feeling about two inches tall right then. The anger that had kept him in its grip since learning of the nature of horcruxes had fled, leaving behind a bone-weariness and a heartsickness of which he felt he would never be truly free. The bitterness of the direction his life had once again taken and the hopelessness of feeling that he was being denied a life that he had desperately wanted had now fled, and it was not because of the news of a possible solution. It was in fact tied to the impression he had had that killing the snake was supremely important and simply must be handled by himself. He still understood all the reasons he had used to justify his actions in his own mind, but that understanding did not allow him to escape one simple fact—that Fleur had been correct in everything she had said to him.
Again, Harry forced himself to be honest in his assessment of his actions. He had pursued Nagini for truly selfish reasons, not the least of which had been self-pity and anger at his lot in life. Not once had he truly considered Fleur and Hermione's position or feelings in all of this, and his actions had clearly borne out that truth. And now Harry felt like a complete cad.
And the inescapable fact of the matter was that Harry did love both girls. In fact, he loved them both to distraction, and that, at least in part, had fueled his actions. But Harry now knew that he had been misguided. Fleur was completely correct—he had never for a moment considered just exactly how the whole business had affected both girls, so caught up he was in what he was feeling, how disappointed he was, and how angry he was. It was a pretty poor way for showing how he felt for the two of them, he who claimed to love them both above all others.
Throughout his time in the shower, to the time when he finally got out and toweled himself off, to when he made his way down to the common room to sit morosely on the sofa in front of the fire, Harry's mind never once left the subject of how he had acted the past days. By the time he fell into an exhausted sleep on the sofa, he had come to a conclusion: he owed both girls an apology. And more than that, he owed them an apology which was heart-felt, which would be followed by a change in behavior. For he knew that if he continued to think only of himself, that he would eventually lose both of them. And that was a far worse fate than dying to ensure Voldemort's defeat, or giving his body up to the Dark Lord.
The expected anger over the link made its presence known before Harry had managed to grab even two hours of sleep, and the resulting pain had been far more than he had ever before felt. His screaming had awoken most of Gryffindor tower who, while most of them had no idea of his problem or of his connection to the Dark Lord, had at least been around him enough to know that such a horrible pain in his scar was not a good thing. Luckily in this instance, the pain caused by the intrusion, coupled with the exhaustion and mental strain, caused Harry to pass out very quickly. The last thing he saw as he lost consciousness was the faces of the two girls most dear to him, as they called his name with panic in their voices. At least they still loved him, despite his stupidity, he thought as he drifted off into the ether.
Something just did not add up.
As Sirius chewed over the events of the past evening and Harry's explanation after he had returned, Sirius was convinced that Harry was lying about something. Or more accurately that he had left something out of the telling.
Oh, Sirius was well aware of the fact that despite how infuriatingly impulsive and heedless of his own safety Harry could be, and how stubborn and pig-headed he often acted, one thing he was not was a liar. If he had lied about something—or omitted something—he would have done it because he felt that it was necessary to protect someone. The question, though, was who. It could not have been Ginny—she had been neck deep in his adventure after all—nor could it be any of his usual friends, as none of them had been involved in his scheme for once.
Most of the explanation had made sense, even, from a certain point of view, Sirius had to admit, Harry's insistence that the snake could not have been killed by just anyone. The fact that he was essentially correct that the snake's death would make whoever killed her into a horcrux did not excuse what Harry had done, but Sirius did understand the thinking, much though he decried the execution. Everything else in his recital seemed to make sense, and there was not much to hide in truth.
The more he thought about it, the more intrigued he became of Harry's account of the manner in which he had traveled to Voldemort's lair. Sirius was certain that Harry could easily have learned when the snake was to be out—he had seen the Dark Lord in his dreams and in visions enough to know that part of the explanation was definitely plausible. But the idea of following the link to assist him in seeking Voldemort out? That was what Sirius was having difficulty with. Sirius had never heard Harry suggest that he could determine any sort of direction or distance between himself and Voldemort, and that explanation had come out of the blue. When he thought of how Harry had explained…
Sirius's eyes widened at the thought. In fact, Harry had not explained himself at all. When Dumbledore had asked how he had managed to travel to the Dark Lord's locale, Harry had produced his Firebolt and had mentioned the fact that he had a connection to Voldemort. However, he had never explicitly stated that he had used those tools in order to find him and travel there. He had implied it, but he had never come out and stated it.
Now, that in and of itself was not enough to indict Harry in Sirius's eyes. But the fact that he had gone off on such an adventure on his own, only taking Ginny Weasley, was enough to make him suspicious.
But then that was another problem with the story. Ginny had invited herself on their little jaunt and had given Harry no choice. If Harry was truly intent upon leaving her behind, could he not have simply gotten on his Firebolt and hightailed it out of there? What had she held over him? Surely the possibility of his being caught out of the castle had not concerned him, as he had to have known that it was a possibility—and even a probability, considering the pitiful attempts he had made to cover his tracks. The only way Sirius could think that Ginny might have been able to have forced him to allow her to stay, would have been if they had already been outside Voldemort's base and she had refused to go back to Hogwarts. But that would hardly have been possible if they had gone by broom. And besides, now that he thought of it, Sirius was certain that Ginny had spoken about how she had "gone along and refused to come back." That suggested that they had only had this discussion at their destination, and implied some other method of transportation.
If so, how had he gotten there and how had she managed to sneak along without him knowing? He was too young to apparate and did not know how in any case, and the Floo was out as well for obvious reasons. That left travel by portkey, and Sirius was relatively certain that Harry did not have the ability or the knowledge to make a portkey at this stage of his life. So if he had gone by portkey, then someone else would have had to have made it for him. Could Harry have managed to convince someone to make a portkey for him? And if so, how could they have known where to direct the portkey to deposit him? Even Harry could not have known exactly where Voldemort's base was until he actually arrived there. And there was no one else who could have told him…
Suddenly a stony expression fell over Sirius's face at the thought that there was indeed someone who knew exactly where the Dark Lord made his abode. Someone who despised Harry and everything he stood for, and would not have been at all sorry had Harry been killed by Nagini.
Why this person would have given Harry the location Sirius was not certain—the fact that Harry would have approached him at all boggled Sirius's mind—but the circumstances fit. And he could think of no other explanation how Harry could have gone to Voldemort's lair. And the more he thought about it, the more he thought that Harry's answer simply did not make sense. If Harry had simply followed some sort of trail to Voldemort's lair by means of his Firebolt, even with the broom's speed, it would have taken much more time than he had had available. Sirius was not certain exactly where Voldemort was holed up, but he was certain that it would have taken several hours minimum by Firebolt to get there, which belied Harry's claims of looking for the snake for some time, before finally finding it and killing it after a protracted battle.
No, Sirius was certain that he had stumbled on the truth of the matter, and he did not like the implications at all. It was also clear that he could not allow this to lie—there was someone else in the castle at that exact moment who would need to be called to account for their actions.
Thus, early the next morning, after Sirius had been called to attend his godson in the hospital wing—it was likely for the best that Harry had passed out, as Sirius was certain that unconsciousness would do him some good after the previous night—Sirius went looking for the man whom he hated above all others in this world, promising himself that he would pay if what Sirius suspected was the truth.
He found him, in the potions office.
In a scene reminiscent of when Sirius had confronted Snape just after the holidays, Sirius slammed the door opened and walked though, his eyes immediately falling on the person of the Potions Professor. He stalked toward the man with determination, not to mention murder in his thoughts, sizing the little bat up. Though Snape made no overt response to his entering the office, he appeared to Sirius to be less than surprised at the intrusion.
"It seems to me that we've played this little drama out before, Black," Snape drawled as Sirius approached his desk. "To what do I owe the honor of your almost taking off the door to my office for a second time this term?"
"A simple question, Snape," Sirius ground out. "Did you, or did you not, supply Harry with the location and the means to take on Voldemort's pet snake last night?"
A pregnant silence fell over the room as Snape met his gaze evenly. Sirius had to give it to the bastard—he was one cool cookie. Then again, Sirius supposed he would have had to be in order to fool Voldemort for as long as he had. The knowledge almost made Sirius respect the man. Grudgingly.
"Why do you think I would do such a thing?" Snape finally asked.
Sirius gave him a caustic sneer, one, incidentally, very much like the expression he had often seen on Snape's face. "Shall we count the reasons? Actually, I think that only one really matters—the fact that you loathe Harry and everything to do with him. How's that for starters?"
"Not good enough," Snape replied. "I've made no secret of my hatred for the little toe rag. But I do want to see the Dark Lord defeated, regardless of any other considerations. If he's all that you say, then sending him off to be killed by the snake would defeat the purpose, wouldn't you say?"
"And you believe that prophecy stuff?" Sirius scoffed. "I thought that you considered him devoid of any redeeming qualities, and incapable of fulfilling the prophecy."
"You and Dumbledore seem to believe it."
"What I believe and what Dumbledore believe are completely different from what goes on in that diseased chasm you call a mind." Sirius glared at Snape, allowing all the dislike and contempt he had for this man flow out through his expression. "Now I will ask you again—did you give Harry the means to get to Voldemort's hideout?"
Snape paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, his tone was conversational—or as conversational as he had ever heard from the man. "You're wrong, by the way. I didn't give him the location because I hate him. I did it because Potter's arguments were persuasive, and because I thought he had a chance."
At Sirius's narrowed gaze, Snape laughed. "Don't go for intimidation, Black. I'm not intimidated by you. I am telling you because I knew it would not stay hidden. I doubt Potter has an ounce of cunning in him, and I knew that someone would figure it out before long. That it was you is… unfortunate. I was expecting the Headmaster, to be honest."
"You greasy, disgusting, inhuman bastard!" Sirius growled, brandishing his wand, his thoughts whirling in disgust for this poor excuse for a man. "No doubt if Harry had killed Nagini and died in the process, you would have gotten a stiffy out of it, wouldn't you?"
Snape sneered. "Your rather crude language aside, the thought had occurred to me. Unfortunately, I can never seem to count on Potter to get anything right."
By this time Sirius was almost seeing red, and the urge to strike Snape down was almost becoming a physical need. The former Death Eater simply watched him with a knowing smile pushing the corners of his mouth up. It was at that point that Sirius almost lost it and cursed the foul git. But Snape was not done with his taunting.
"Oh come now, Black. You know how I feel about the boy. Surely this cannot be that much of a surprise to you."
"Your feelings?" Sirius ground out. "No. That you would actually act on them does surprise me to a certain extent. Aren't you violating your vow by doing this?"
A snort met his query. "My vows ensure my cooperation in working to ensure that the Dark Lord is defeated and that I won't pass the wrong information off to him. There is a component of my life debt to your arrogant friend which ensures that I must look after his loathsome son. However, I can interpret those oaths to a certain extent, and in this instance, the need to defeat Voldemort allowed me to give Potter the location, as he was very clear that Nagini must be dead for the Dark Lord to fall. His argument that he must be the one to do it was… persuasive.
"Now," Snape said, standing and placing his hands on his desk, a mirror of Sirius's own posture, "are you going to do something about it, or are we simply going to continue to trade insults?"
"I don't know how you live with yourself," Sirius rasped. He was an inch away from cursing Snape and only a supreme effort kept his wand, clutched in his hand leaning on the desk, from being trained on the spot directly between Snape's eyes.
Snape barked a humorless laugh. "You know nothing," he spat. "I live for the Dark Lord's death. Revenge is all I have left."
"Why would you even care?" Sirius jibed. "Your kind hates her kind. Wasn't she just another one of the cattle to you?"
"You know nothing!" Snape repeated. "She was the best friend I ever had."
"Only friend. And she wasn't even that after you called her a Mudblood."
"An insignificant event."
"Not to her."
"It matters not," Snape said dismissively.
But something about this whole situation bothered Sirius. He was aware of the fact that Snape desired revenge for Lily's death, but he appeared to be taking it more personally than simply a matter of Voldemort killing his friend. That and the fact that he was insinuating that his public repudiation of Lily and her background was an insignificant event. It had been anything but insignificant, Sirius was certain.
And then Sirius knew.
His sudden journey to understanding must have been clear in his face, as Snape laughed hollowly. "So you have finally made the connection?"
"It was you," Sirius replied in a low and menacing voice. "Dumbledore said that a Death Eater had overheard part of the prophecy and taken it to Voldemort. You told Voldemort the prophecy, set him on the Potters. You were the one who killed your only friend."
"Now you understand why I hate myself."
"Hate yourself?" Sirius demanded. "You gave her up to him. Why?"
"I didn't even know who the prophecy was talking about," Snape replied. "How could I have known?"
"But you would have been happy had Voldemort killed Harry and James but left Lily alive."
"I don't deny that."
Those words ringing in his ears, Sirius for a brief moment thought that living with the knowledge of what he had done had to have been Snape's greatest punishment.
But he could not allow this to pass. To do so would betray James and Lily and the son they had given life to.
His wand snapped up and a curse issued from it almost as quick as thought. Snape was ready for him, though, as the curse impacted against a shield that Snape had erected, before Snape released a volley of his own at point blank range.
Backing up to give himself a little room, Sirius avoided Snape's curses and immediately went on the offensive, snapping off several more attacks that the Potions Master neatly avoided. Within minutes the desk behind which Snape had been sitting had been reduced to kindling, and parchments and potions ingredients were strewn about the classroom, which was quickly becoming a war zone.
"What is the meaning of this?" a voice rose above the din.
Sirius, however, ignored the Headmaster as he continued to press Snape, sensing that he was getting the better of the man. He smiled grimly as he continued his attacks, noting that his impression of his ability to outclass Snape was being proven correct. The Potions Master was having increasing difficulty fending off Sirius's attacks, and his own responding curses were becoming fewer, and easier to avoid.
A moment later, Sirius had him. An overpowered stunner blew through Snape's weakened shield, narrowly avoided by the man, and leaving him open to counter attack. The disarming spell hit Snape and discharged his wand from his hand. Sirius ignored the flying wand and stepped forward, pressing his own wand into Snape's neck.
"Are you ready to face judgment for your sins, Death Eater?" Sirius ground out.
"Do what you will," the Potions Master said as he gasped for breath in the aftermath of the short but fierce duel. "You can't do anything to me that would be worse than what I've lived with all these years."
And Sirius knew that Snape was correct. Though fifteen years had passed since the incident, the man was still tortured by the knowledge of what his actions had led to. It was a sad existence, Sirius decided, and far beyond what he had ever thought to be Snape's punishment.
"Sirius, I believe you should lower your wand," Dumbledore said from behind him.
"It was him, Albus," Sirius said, his eyes never leaving Snape's. "He is the one responsible for James and Lily's deaths. But I suppose you already knew that."
It was a brief moment before Dumbledore responded. "I did."
"Bloody buggering nundu droppings!" Sirius growled. "You knew and you allowed this… this… thing to get close to Harry?"
"He has always been an arrow in my quiver, Sirius," Dumbledore replied. "I told you I would do anything to see Voldemort defeated. And besides—his life debt to James ensured he could not hurt Harry himself. It also forced him to protect Harry to the best of his ability."
"But it didn't prevent him from making Harry's life miserable."
He heard Dumbledore sigh. "I regret that. Had Harry told me about it earlier, I would have seen that it stopped. I should have done more to make certain it didn't happen. At the very least I should have seen what was happening. I suppose I was too focused on making sure Voldemort is ultimately defeated."
"Yes you should have protected Harry better. But now is not the time to discuss this, though I warn you that this conversation is not closed."
Ignoring the Headmaster, Sirius glared at Snape, his eyes almost boring holes into the man's skull. That Snape kept control over his emotions was evident, but the self-loathing that Sirius had always known existed under the surface was there for anyone to see. It was that more than anything else which convinced him that Snape was serving the punishment which was far more severe than anything Sirius could do to him. Even if Sirius killed him, death was too kind for one such as Snape. No, making him live with his actions was far worse than giving him the oblivion of death, regardless of what awaited him beyond the confines of this life.
"I want you to know, Snivellous, that you are the lowest worm crawling on the face of this earth, and I would like nothing more than to usher you into the next life to face Lily and James. I'm sure they have many things they'd like to say to you right about now.
"However," he continued when Snape made no reaction, "I'm grateful to you for giving me this little insight into your head, twisted and diseased though it is. The only reason your life is not forfeit here and now is because I believe it a greater punishment to force you to continue to live with your actions. I pray that it torments you all the miserable years of your life, and that when you move on to your next great adventure that the punishment only continues.
"If you do everything you can to fulfill your end of the bargain and defeat Voldemort, and then if you resign once he is gone and never come near Harry again, I will defer your judgment until the time that you die and Lily can see to your disposition. I guarantee it will not be pleasant."
"I am compelled by my oaths," Snape replied simply. "And once this is all done, I will be quite happy to be as far away from Potter as I can contrive."
Sirius stared at him for a few more moments before he lowered his wand and nodded. He turned to leave, before another thought struck him.
"Snape?" he said.
When the other turned to him with a sneer, Sirius clenched a fist and hit Snape as hard as he could on the jaw, sending the man careening into the wall behind him, and then sprawling onto the floor.
"For your crimes you will have to answer to Lily and James," Sirius rasped. "That was for Harry."
Then turning, Sirius stalked from the room, sparing neither Dumbledore nor Snape another glance. He flexed his hand as he walked, noting that his knuckles had already started to bruise. Perhaps a quick visit to Madam Pomfrey was in order. But regardless of any discomfort he felt in his hand, he had to admit that Neville and Ron had been right when they told him about how they had kept Malfoy cowed the day he had assaulted Hermione. There was certainly something satisfying about physical violence as opposed to using one's wand.
Updated 07/03/2014