The questions with no answers
Sometimes, no matter how cosy, the Burrow just wasn't the best place to be. Especially not if all you needed was some peace and quiet to think things through. Sitting outside by the hedges in the darkness, Harry went through his recent encounter with Snape. It had ended rather catastrophic.
After having lost his control and sent Snape crashing to the stone tiles, he had been hurriedly escorted out again by Mr. Martin. The fracture Snape had received would only result in a concussion and had been healed fast. But taken into consideration that his head had already been knocked around quite a bit as it was, he would probably feel very ill the next few days.
Harry cursed the fact that Snape was still able to lure forth the worst in him. Even with his hands chained behind his back, blindfolded and bruised, Snape managed to prove to the world that Harry was nothing but an ill tempered teenager.
There had just been something in Snape's quiet defeat that had made Harry rage in anger.
Most worrisome was of course the delay of information they now would receive because of his lack of control. Harry had a feeling Snape wouldn't be spilling his guts any time soon, especially not after he recovered and regained his usual strength.
Harry's initial reaction at the sight of Snape after all these years had been different than what he had expected. It was true that he had once again lost his composure to anger, but where had the distinct feeling of something being so utterly wrong come from? Watching Snape in such a vulnerable position had made it impossible to compare him with the man who had murdered Dumbledore in cold blood. Harry wondered what Snape had been doing during the years he had been underground and hiding. Where had he been? What had he seen?
Stretching out his legs and taking a deep breath of the hot summer night, Harry's nerves were finally beginning to calm down. The lights shone from the windows, and he could see the silhouettes of people engaged in their own business. The sky was partly clouded, but Harry could still see a few stars shimmering in the east.
The world was too calm, and the sky too normal for it to be waging a lethal battle underneath it. Harry felt certain that for each second he was sitting there and whiling away the time, several people were experiencing bereavement. A headache was just beginning to make itself noticed behind his left eye, and he rubbed at it tiredly. He needed a long night's sleep, but he doubted he would find any rest.
Just as he was about to rise and try to sneak unnoticed back into the house, the kitchen door opened and two people emerged. Shrinking back into the shadows of the hedge, Harry sat completely still, hoping for them not to notice him. As they closed in, Harry recognized them to be Remus Lupin and Arthur Weasley. This took him by surprise, as he hadn't been aware of Remus' release from the Hospital Wing.
'Are you sure about this?' Harry could hear Remus ask in surprise, his raspy voice pitched low.
'Well, I can only tell you what Fred told me, of course,' answered Mr. Weasley, 'but it won't be difficult for me to find someone else's point of view of the happenings, if you want that.'
'No, that is ok. I believe you,' reassured Remus, tapping his chin contemplatively, 'well, I can hardly blame him for such a reaction but…'
'Yes, I know what you're thinking… This has all been too much for him.'
'Indeed it has.'
The two men stood in silence for a bit, Mr. Weasley looking up at the stars and Remus gazing back at the house. Harry was pretty sure he knew who they were discussing. It wasn't as if anything Harry ever did went by unnoticed, and a happening such as this was certainly worth a discussion by them all. Rising an eyebrow in disgust, Harry wondered if he should rise and show them that he had heard their conversation, if not for anything else but to make them uncomfortable. But he decided against it, he wanted to hear the rest of what they had to say about him first.
'Will you talk to him?' asked Mr. Weasley after a while, letting his hand glide through the few strands of flaming red hair he had left.
Remus nodded and kicked the ground with his foot, 'yeah… Yeah I'll talk to him. I'm not really certain how much that will help though.'
'No… well… I'm all up for ideas I'm afraid' said Mr. Weasley with an air of defeat, resting a hand on Remus' shoulder, 'it was always our responsibility to see to it that he grew up well after Lily and James died, but… I don't know if we succeeded.'
Harry could feel the now slumbering anger inside him twitch slightly, as if readying itself to awaken. The anger was about to boil, but Harry did all he could to repress it. Biting down on his lip, the tears stinging behind his eyes and the headache intensified. They were disappointed in him. After all the hard work he'd gone through, he still hadn't been able to prove to them that he was worthy to be James' and Lily's son. Was he a disgrace? Was Dumbledore turning in his grave?
No, he had done all they had asked him. He had given up on a normal life so that he could be The Boy Who Lived.
Still it hurt to hear Mr. Weasley utter those words.
'That's ok Arthur,' said Remus patting his hand, 'I'll just take a bit more of fresh air and then I'll join you inside.'
Nodding in understanding, Mr. Weasley turned and walked back into the kitchen. Harry could see his silhouette through the window, his long shadow falling out onto the lawn.
'I know you're there Harry,' said Remus suddenly, also watching Mr. Weasley's shadow move across the grass.
'Do you now,' answered Harry quietly, not bothering to rise from his spot. Remus turned and looked at him, the stars being enough light for him to see quite well in the late evening.
'Are you going to tell me what happened at the Ministry?' asked Remus, not bothering with Harry's melancholic mood.
'No.'
Sighing heavily Remus made his way over to the hedge and sat down in the grass beside him. Even in the dusky darkness Harry could see his face twist in pain as his muscles fought against the uncaring movements.
'How are you?' asked Harry despite himself, remembering that his friend had been out cold in a hospital bed just a few days previously.
'I'm doing much better, thank you.'
They both knew it was the standard curtsey answer to the standard curtsey question. Neither of them wished to either tell or hear the truth. It was better to pretend that everything was as it should be, and that being a lycanthrope didn't mean his body would age long before it's time.
'You saw him,' began Remus before taking a few more breaths, 'could you tell me, how was he?'
Harry stared at Remus through the darkness, his now shimmering grey hair making for an odd contrast against the dark shadows of the hedge. Snape had, if possible, caused even more pain to Remus than even to Harry himself.
'He was bound, and they had begun their interrogation of him,' answered Harry hesitantly, it was no secret to anyone what an interrogation meant.
'How did he take that?'
Harry was quiet for a while. He hadn't considered Snape's state of condition except his quietness and defeat. Something Harry had contributed more to the fact that he had been held prisoner than the abuse in itself.
'I don't know, he was very quiet. He didn't speak more than a few words.'
'What did he say?'
Again Harry had to think for a while before answering. He felt uncomfortable with all these questions. Mostly he just wanted to forget the whole thing, especially his loss of control. Again.
'I can't really remember' answered Harry after some time, 'nothing important. I asked him why he killed Dumbledore, but he didn't want to answer.'
'So you struck him?'
'… yes.'
'I see.'
Something in Harry bristled at this response. Clenching his teeth together he got up from the grass and stood with his back turned to Remus.
'No you don't!' Harry whispered dangerously, 'you don't bloody see. He was… It was… you just don't understand, ok?'
Turning his head, Harry could see Remus looking up at him as if he'd expected this outburst. The recognizable anger was waking even further from it's slumber. Harry didn't want to see it get out on a rampage again tonight. He was too tired for that.
'Whatever,' said Harry, shaking his head, 'I'll be inside.'
'Harry…?' Remus called after him, his raspy voice barely reaching through the darkness. But Harry ignored him.
---
The sun was shining again, and Harry detested it. It seemed so misplaced and mocking, the blue sky and the careless clouds drifting mindlessly about.
Over a week had passed since Snape had been captured, and still he hadn't spoken a single word. It was said that the only time he'd opened his mouth was when he had talked to Harry that same night. Any interrogation or questioning had resulted in nothing, and the day of his trial was closing in. The Order was at a loss of what to do, all certain Snape had the knowledge they needed to be able to conquer the last remaining Death Eaters.
Snape could, however, be sent to trial before they managed to twist the truth out of him. One of three things could happen then, none being to their favour. He could, against all reason, be deemed innocent and set free. They could sentence him to a lifetime in Azkaban, where he would lose his mind. Or, he could be granted the kiss.
If either of these things happened, their one source to information could be gone for good.
They were losing time.
'Stop staring at me as if I'm the only one able to solve puzzles,' muttered Hermione as she sat by the kitchen table at the Burrow, leafing through one of her trustworthy books.
'But Hermione, you're the one who always finds a solution to things like this,' argued Ron, trying to read over her shoulder, 'I don't even understand what this book is about.'
Hermione sighed and rubbed at her temples before blinking a few times. They were all running on no sleep and chronic headaches it seemed. Harry looked around himself and could see nothing but bloodshot and weary eyes. Bill was even dozing off while leaning against the kitchen bench with his arms crossed over his chest.
'The book is called: "Magical Laws for a Magical Society: A Wizard's Guide to British Law"' explained Hermione, as she was bound to do, 'it's a book containing all laws and loopholes ever made in wizarding Britain. The brilliant thing about this book is that it automatically updates as soon as any changes has been made."
'Ah,' they all uttered in perfect unison, glad it was Hermione who would be reading through it and not them.
'But I just don't see how this will help us,' she sighed, 'trial is actually a wizards right, and it will take a lot to convince them that it's not necessary. And even if we do, that will only mean Azkaban or the kiss.'
Hermione closed the book with a thud and shoved it away from herself across the table. Crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair, she got a far away look on her face. Harry recognized it as the expression she always wore when she tried to find a logical answer to a seemingly unsolvable problem.
'Whom of you have authority to access Snape right now?' asked Remus, staring at the young aurors scattered around the kitchen. Harry wondered if he might be able to use his name again, even though he detested the idea. He just wasn't so certain Mr. Martin would be so favourable towards him the next time, considering what had happened last he had been let into Snape's cell.
'Well, I guess I and Shacklebolt do,' answered Tonks, looking rather different keeping her hair black to mourn the ones lost in battle, 'oh no… I mean, I do… or I did…'
An uncomfortable silence spread out between them and some exchanged knowing glances. Shacklebolt had been missing a good few months and no one expected him to ever return to them. Tonks had barely survived the ambush that had lead to his abduction, but not without severe injuries. The Death Eaters had left her for dead. She had been suspended from her auror duties.
'I suggest we just all go each to ours and try to find an answer to this problem,' said Mrs. Weasley quietly, waking them all up from their reveries, 'I don't think we'll be able to come to any agreements just now.'
They all nodded, hurrying to attend their own, separated, lives. The Order had, after Dumbledore's death, begun to split apart. Not obviously so for an outsider perhaps, but some animosity was to be found between the members. As the war went on and wore them all out, many nerves had snapped and arguments had ensued.
Harry remained in the kitchen with his trusted cup of tea watching the others leave. He was not surprised when he found that he, Hermione and Ron was the only ones left in the quietness of the early afternoon. It felt both good and familiar this way, even though they were both a bit annoyed with him. Again.
'You could have waited for me to join you at the Ministry,' said Ron, not being the one to beat around the bush.
Harry nodded mutely staring at his golden tea laced with sugar and milk. He could have, but he hadn't.
'How was he really?' asked Hermione in her turn, she was still leaning back in her chair, looking interested despite herself. Harry had forgotten how much Snape meant in their lives. He seemed to forget a whole lot concerning other people lately, most of all how Snape had managed to manipulate the all of them.
So Harry decided to give them his side of the story.
'Huh,' muttered Ron, having sat down on a chair across from Hermione, tapping the tabletop with his fingers. His red hair and freckles seeming even more burning as they contrasted his pallid complexion.
'So now it's up to us to try and figure out how to keep him from trial,' pondered Hermione out loud, 'you know, that seems to be the easiest part here. The difficult part will be after we have gotten him. I don't think even Veritaserum is going to make him tell his story.'
'Yeah, and beating it out of him doesn't seem to help either.'
'Ron!' exclaimed Hermione aghast, and Harry had to hide his grin. It was almost as if everything was back as it used to be. Not quite, but close enough for comfort.
'Don't you guys ever change, ok,' smiled Harry at them, making them both stop their inevitable argument and shake their heads.
Work was then put aside in the favour of catching up with each other. They might have fought side by side every day the last years, but it was appalling to see how much they had grown. Harry was happy to find that they had not, as he previously thought, grown apart, as much as developed.
Hermione was struggling with her studies and Ron was slowly climbing up the career ladder as an auror. It made Harry quite nostalgic to remember back to their first years at Hogwarts, and he found he missed it so immensely it was as if he'd gotten a physical void inside his body. Things had been dangerous and thrilling then too, but there had been a sort of safety net to catch them if they stumbled. Then Sirius had fallen through the veil, and everything had changed.
---
Having travelled down to the Ministry one more time, Harry was wondering why he had even bothered to make the trip. He was now standing, completely breathless, face to face with Mr. Martin who just wouldn't budge. They had been screaming, or Harry had been screaming, at each other for more than fifteen minutes.
This far Harry had been the only one to even make Snape open his mouth, and if they couldn't get him to talk soon they had lost their one source to information. It was up to Harry to make Mr. Martin understand this, but he was apparently not doing a very good job at it as spittle was now flying from the older wizard's mouth, spattering Harry's face.
'I don't care if you're the bloody Queen,' growled Mr. Martin, 'Snape is a captive of the Ministry, and he's kept under strict interrogation. You may not remove him, and you may not speak with him. You do not hold the authority.'
'But don't you understand?' sighed Harry exasperated, 'we need to get him to talk before he is set to trial! He knows who the leader of the remaining Death Eaters are!'
'That is entirely beside the point! He is a captive on the same ground as anyone else, and he is going to trial to either prove his guilt or his innocence!'
'Innocence? You must be bloody kidding me! THIS MAN KILLED DUMBLEDORE!'
'You have no proof of that,' said Mr. Martin, gazing at Harry with a look that plainly told him what he thought of the younger auror.
'Why are you protecting him like this?' asked Harry tiredly, letting his hand travel through his black curls, 'do you know him? Has he done you any favours? What?'
'A man doesn't need to do me any favours for me to protect his right to life,' answered Mr. Martin, making Harry's eyes grow round.
'Snape doesn't care about anyone else's life,' explained Harry carefully, 'why should we care about his?'
'Because we're not murderers.'
---
But he was. Harry was a murderer. He had taken lives before. Both directly and indirectly. Was he the same as Snape? Was he a monster who didn't care about the value of life and being alive?
Resting for a bit on one of the benches located on the same floor as the auror's headquarters, Harry felt fatigued. It didn't seem like it would end, no matter how hard he fought. There was always something there to stop him from leading the life he wanted to.
A chill went up Harry's spine. Furrowing his brow he leant forward and rested his head in his hands. What did he want? No matter how hard he tried to find an answer to that unexpected question, his mind was blank.
He had done what he was meant to do, what was left now?
He had no career plans, no girlfriend, no studies to take up. He hadn't even graduated from Hogwarts. This meant in all reality that he didn't have any qualifications at all, The Boy Who Lived or not. Harry could just faintly remember a dream of becoming an auror once long ago, but those desires had been deeply buried through the years.
The sound of feet hurrying down the corridor alerted Harry that someone was closing in. Rubbing his face and adjusting his glasses, Harry tried to look like the heroic young man he was supposed to be. At closer inspection, the owners of the feet revealed to be none other than Percy, Ron, Mr. Weasley and the twins. Them all working for the Ministry either as aurors or in a different office. They stopped in front of him and their expressions told Harry that they were about to break something to him that he probably would not like. They were all skittish and apprehensive, keeping their silence so that someone else had to breach the subject. This time it was Percy who lost the battle.
'Harry,' he said in a frank tone, straightening his back as if to embrace himself, 'we have found a solution, but I don't know how much you will like it.'
Harry had already grown impatient with their ridiculous attitude, and didn't really find a reason not to act as they expected him to.
'Well then,' he barked, 'spit it out!'
Percy hesitated just for a second before plunging in.
'We have to make Snape your slave.'
