Hello, sweet people, thanks for reading :) I hope this story isn't coming along too slowly and you aren't disappointed the slash hasn't started even though we're already three chapters in. We will get there eventually. I am a (fanfic) writer, not a pornographer.
So, chapter three...
When the war ends mourning comes. Fred is buried in a quiet funeral at Shell Cottage, and everyone who knew him well is present except George, who is for the first time not at his twin's side. The ceremony is extremely painful, with anyone who tries to say a few words to send Fred off breaking down mid-speech. Sentences hang in the air and die. Finally the four Weasley boys present heave the coffin up and into the ground, and the garden closes over Fred, and Mrs Weasley gives one last shuddering sob into Arthur's chest. Ginny plants a sunflower over the grave and after that there is only the eternal sound of the sea sighing sadly in the distance.
Late in the afternoon Harry rises from his nap and borrows Bill's broom to go flying. It's a particularly lovely day in Cornwall. The fog is lit up by the sun, and he is weightless in it, free in more ways than one, no longer a wanted man. He glides up and down the cliffs in figures of eight for a while, weaving past instead of through flocks of seagulls but startling them anyway, then dives off the cliff and deep into the fog, emerging only inches away from sparkling sea water. The spray drenches him immediately. He spots land some ways away, in the form of a narrow beach stretching from one cliff face to another. He makes his way to it and hops lightly onto the sand before he realizes he's not alone.
"Hey Harry."
It's George, emerging from the camouflaging shadows of the cliffs.
"George- I'm sorry- I didn't realize you were here."
"It's okay, I could use a bit of company." George dusts off a rock and perches on it. "Nice idea, that," he says, pointing at Harry's broom.
"Oh, yeah, it's been a while," Harry says, settling down on the sand at George's feet. "I missed flying. How did you get down here?"
"There's a trail leading all the way down. It's pretty far from the cottage, but I've been walking all day."
They watch the sea in silence. Harry picks up a stick lying at his feet and stabs it repeatedly into the sand.
"Drilling for oil?" George asks, and Harry laughs.
"Was mum alright at the funeral?"
"It was very hard for her - for all of them, really," Harry says, "but I think she's doing better now."
"Good," George says, "I hope she understands why I wasn't there. I think we bury the dead to forget them, and I couldn't forgive myself if I forgot him."
Harry doesn't know what to say to this. He hugs his knees to his chest and they lapse into silence again.
"So Voldie's back, huh?"
"His younger self is back."
"That boy in the Great Hall, yeah?" George gives a low whistle. "Who would have thought?"
"I don't know how it could have happened. Neither does he, apparently."
"Well it's not your problem anymore, is it? It's a question the Ministry and the Wizengamot will have to answer before they try him."
"I suppose," Harry says doubtfully. "Somehow I feel responsible, though."
"Why?"
"Because I'm the only one who knows him." He tells George about Dumbledore's Pensieve and the Tom Riddle he met in it. George is a good listener, surprisingly open, interrupting Harry only to ask questions.
When Harry has at last helped George bridge the gap between Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort, George looks away thoughtfully.
Then he says, "Sounds like he was a manipulative cunt from the start."
"Yeah," Harry says ruefully.
"But who knows, maybe he wasn't always destined to be a mass murderer."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
George Weasley gets up and walks slowly towards the sea, his hands in his pockets and his back bent like there's a weight pressing down on his spine.
"Don't you want him dead?" asks Harry. "Everyone seems to want him dead."
George turns. Shrugs. "I wanted to kill him when I found out who he was. I would if it would bring back the people who've died because of him. But it won't, so anger has no place in it."
He asks if he can borrow the broom for a quick fly around the feet of the cliffs before dinner. Harry gives it to him and watches him dart away.
They return to find Shell Cottage has come to life. Warm light is streaming out of every window in the house, music is audible from the garden, and when they step inside they are greeted not only by the Order but by some of their friends at Hogwarts - Neville is there, and so is Luna - and even a few Hogwarts professors (a suspiciously giggly McGonagall raises a glass of firewhiskey to Harry from across the room). Mrs Weasley rushes towards them and explains anxiously, trying to read George's expression, "I thought it'd be nice to have everyone over and celebrate," and George says gently "It is very nice, mum," and lets her sweep him tearfully into her arms.
All night the music plays and the butterbeer flows. The party reaches a climax when a very flushed Hagrid stands on a chair and starts bellowing out a drunken song, but then the chair splinters like a toothpick and everyone stops singing along and falls over laughing (except Fleur, who was fond of the chair) and Hagrid has to be led aside to a sturdier armchair by the fireplace, where he falls asleep. Gradually people start leaving or nodding off to sleep. Luna, too, is asleep by the fire, a string of glowing fairy lights tangled in her golden hair.
Harry gets up from his bridge game with Ron, Hermione and Neville, leaving Charlie to play in his turn, and approaches Arthur and Kingsley, who sit at the dining table talking in low voices over butterbeer. They look up and smile when he sits down beside them.
"Hullo Harry," says Kingsley cheerfully. "Good party?"
"Yeah," Harry says. "It's good to see everyone so happy for a change. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about your post-war plans."
Kingsley and Arthur exchange looks.
"Specifically the interrogation of Tom Riddle. I want to help."
"Harry I'm not sure how you can-"
"I'm the only one alive who's seen Voldemort before he was Voldemort - Dumbledore showed me his memories of Tom Riddle. I want to be there when you question him, I think I know what he's like better than anyone else."
"I don't think it's very safe, Harry," says Arthur quietly, and before Harry can object, he says, "Not in the sense of physical safety- we've taken every precaution to ensure he has no access to magic, and his cell is under constant surveillance by the Order, but I think he's aware you have a weakness and he will prey on that."
"What weakness?" Harry asks, outraged.
"Kindness."
"And you don't think he deserves any?"
"If it puts you in danger I would say no."
Harry stares at Arthur. "I don't mean to sound arrogant, but I've grown up quite a bit in this war."
Arthur sighs unhappily. "I'm sorry Harry, I didn't mean to patronize you." He looks to Kingsley for help, but Kingsley seems to have changed his mind. "Harry's right," he says, "he's of age. He has more experience than anyone his age, in fact. And we need all the help we can get. There's a lot to be done even though the war's been won. We have prisoners of war to rescue, more Death Eaters and mercenaries to track down, a Dementor and a Giant population to keep in check…" He rubs his forehead.
"Alright," Arthur concedes. "But Harry you can't question him alone. Either Kingsley or I have to be there with you"
"Fair enough."
Day One of the Interrogation of Tom Marvolo Riddle
4 May 1998.
Persons involved:
A.W.: Arthur Weasley
H.P.: Harry Potter
R.H.: Rubeus Hagrid
T.R.: Tom Riddle
R.H.: I'm gonna leave you to it. Holler if you need anything, I'll be right outside.
A.W.: Thanks Hagrid… Ah, excellent, the quill seems to be working.
T.R.: Hello again Harry Potter.
H.P.: Hello Tom.
T.R.: I was hoping I'd see you soon. There's something I think you might be interested in.
H.P.: What is it?
T.R.: You can't see it from all the way there.
A.W.: Careful, Harry.
H.P.: It's okay Mr Weasley.
H.P.: How curious. He's got a scar just like mine, except it's on his side. Does it hurt when I touch it?
T.R.: It doesn't. I've never felt any sensation from it.
A.W.: Ahem. Moving on... Mr Riddle would you please take this.
T.R.: Veritaserum.
A.W.: Yes, we would just like to confirm a few statements you made previously.
T.R.: I understand.
A.W.: Well whenever you're ready.
A.W.: Tom Marvolo Riddle has just taken Veritaserum, as witnessed by Harry James Potter and Arthur Weasley. Mr Riddle, please state your name and birth date.
T.R.: My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. I do not know if I was ever born in the usual sense of the word.
A.W.: Were you previously Vol- Voldemort?
T.R.: Other people say that I am, but I cannot say this for sure.
A.W.: Why is that?
T.R.: I do not feel the personality of Lord Voldemort is contiguous with mine.
A.W.: Please elaborate.
T.R.: Perhaps we are more alike than I think. But I cannot identify with the emotions of his I experienced in my dream. My purpose is different from his. I do not seek world domination. I do not want to kill Harry Potter.
A.W.: What is your purpose?
T.R.: To stay alive.
A.W.: What is your affiliation with the Death Eaters?
T.R.: I have none. At night I hear their screams through the walls but we have never communicated.
A.W.: Do you have any information on the whereabouts of Florean Fortescue or Mundungus Fletcher?
T.R.: Florean Fortescue was tortured and killed in a particularly brutal manner because he was thought to possess something of interest to Lord Voldemort. I do not know the whereabouts of Fletcher.
A.W.: How do you know what happened to Florean?
T.R.: I dreamt through the eyes of Lord Voldemort.
A.W.: What is the extent of your magical powers? Are they the same as V- Voldemort's or his teenage self?
T.R.: I cannot tell without a wand.
A.W.: Any questions Harry? The Veritaserum will start to wear off soon.
H.P.: What are your intentions towards me and the Order?
T.R.: I intend to persuade you of my innocence.
A.W.: Would you hurt Harry if it helped you to escape?
T.R.: Yes it would be in my interests to do so.
H.P.: What would you do if we set you free?
T.R.: Go into hiding. Thwart assassination attempts. I have already received many death threats, including from that oaf who guards this cell.
H.P.: Hagrid is not an oaf.
T.R.: That is debatable.
A.W.: Alright, that's enough. Thank you, Mr Riddle. Thank you, Quill. That is all for today.
End of Day One of the Interrogation of Tom Marvolo Riddle.
When Harry is back at Shell Cottage and has answered all of Ron and Hermione's questions, he finds an empty room and shuts the door behind him. In the pocket of his robes is a crumpled slip of paper that reads "Grawp." He felt Tom Riddle slip it in when he went over to examine the identical lightning bolt scar on the other boy's side. He turns it over in his hands, puzzled. There's no explanation on the back, it's blank. It takes a while for Harry to realize Tom Riddle has given him a password.