They called him a liar. They showed the evidence, brought out a Pensieve and extracted the memories, cast Priori Incantem on his wand. Seven killing spells, and one Cruciatus. If the killing spells hadn't convinced the jury, the torture one did.
"Life in Azkaban!" They cried. "Send him to the pits."
Dumbledore tried, to his credit, to pursue the possibility of a Memory Charm. They ignored him. Six Aurors and a reporter were dead and they wanted blood. Or, they wanted someone to get 'the Kiss.'
He persuaded them to not use the Dementor's Kiss on him, not much of a relief, but it was a start. They dismissed him quickly, eager to get to the next case. He passed the next defendant in the hall. It was her. She grinned at him, licking her lips suggestively as she eyed him from head to toe.
"Why the long face, Lucas? Did you lose something?"
It had taken five wizards to hold him down long enough for her to pass. She hurried past him, dodging his wild fists and she disappeared into the courtroom, walking with an arrogant stride befitting her Black heritage. The pain of seeing her again nearly broke him. He fell to the floor sobbing, whimpering in agony as the memories flooded his mind. He could not believe what he had done with her. She had been so honest, so sympathetic, so real.
No, never again. He had to get out, to get away. He needed to find a place where the pain that lingered in his heart could not find him. He needed a new life, something devoid of this cursed magic, away from the ruined bodies and lives that were littered behind him, testaments to his violent nature. He could not go back to Azkaban, but he could not go to go find her either. It was best that she would not remember him, remember what he had done.
The Aurors guarding him helped him to his feet, not imagining in the least what he was thinking. They lowered their guards just long enough for him to see an escape route. He stumbled forward, dragging two of the guards with him. They tripped over their robes and he struck. His fists caught them both under their chins, snapping their heads back and leaving them unconscious on the floor.
The guards behind him gaped in shock at their fallen comrades. By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late. He fell on them with a savage fury that belied his human appearance. They crumpled under the crushing blows that he threw at them, falling one by one until they were all on the ground either screaming in pain or mercifully unconscious.
He searched them carefully, checking each one until he found his target. His wand; thirteen inches, rosewood finish, with the spike from a Chimera as its core. He picked the wand up slowly, remembering how much he had accomplished with it in the past.
The Aurors' eyes widened in fear as he stood, eyeing him like rats cornered by a massive tabby. He returned their looks, his eyes full of sorrow and pain. He raised his wand in a non-threatening manner and pointed to the nearest one.
"You, Shallow, tell them not to follow me, or I will kill them. All I want is to be left alone, to get away from all this. This… this magic." He snarled the final words and his face contorted in a grimace that made even the hardest Auror there flinch.
"You won't get away with this." One of the Aurors started to rise, pulling her wand from her belt. She raised it warningly. He watched impassively as she fired off a flare. The sound echoed in the empty hallway, its ring reminding him of the doorbell that he used to press every time he came home. "They'll send us after you."
"Then I will have to kill you until they stop sending you." His wand twitched slightly and she collapsed unconscious as a red beam of light caught her in the chest. A shudder passed up his spine as he watched her fall. It was so easy, so much power in the tip of his fingers. That is why he needed to get away. That some could own this power, could channel it to destructive ends… like he had.
He turned his back on them and walked away, through the small bronze door at the end of the hall, through the panicked crowd of wizards as they rushed to get out of his way, past the foolish young secretary who tried to Stun him as he moved around the welcome desk. He spat contemptuously as the spell missed by several feet, shattering a chair far to his right. The secretary cowered behind his chair, whimpering in fear as he passed within striking distance.
He ignored them all. They were nothing to him. They did not know what he had gone through, the pain that threatened to rip his heart out. He walked until he reached a Floo Station.
"Vandermine."
He stopped but did not turn. Instead he drew his wand in anticipation and growled. If Dumbledore wanted a fight, he was ready to give him one.
Over the next few days Harry began to spend more and more time with Neville. They started sitting together in classes, helping each other with homework and exchanging jokes and stories. It helped Harry unwind from the stress that assailed him from all sides. It also helped him forget that Ron and Hermione were not talking to him anymore.
Neville was a great kid, Harry realized as he learned more about him. He had all kinds of funny stories from his family, Harry found his stories about his Gran and her oddities especially hilarious. From what Harry had seen of his Gran, which was not much, she was quite the character. Strong and impulsive, she never took 'no' for an answer and when she wanted something, she usually got it, even if she had to yank a few arms out of socket in the process.
Neville's stories always made Harry laugh, whether they were really funny or not. It did not matter to Harry, as long as it helped calm his mind. Life at Hogwarts was getting harder and scarier as the year went on. When the Pink Lady's portrait had been attacked and Sir Cadogan had taken her place, Harry and Ron had made sure to stay together whenever they left or entered the common room, so Neville would not forget the passwords, which seemingly changed hourly, depending on the knight's whims.
Harry grew so at ease around Neville that he gradually became less and less aware of Ron and Hermione. He paid no attention to Ron's angry glares and muttered insults as they passed in the hall. As long as Ron kept quiet at night Harry was fine. It worked out that, since Neville and Harry usually stayed up late with their homework, Ron was almost always asleep by the time Harry crept up into the room to go to bed.
Hermione was a different story. Every time they passed each other in the hall, Harry could not help but notice the look she gave him. It was full of pain and regret, as if she was sorry that he had exploded on her, as if it was her fault. It made Harry's stomach turn cartwheels every time he felt her eyes on him. He could not talk to her though. When he tried to return her gaze she would quickly avert her eyes and start up a conversation with anyone passing by. She always had something keeping her too busy to talk when he approached her.
Neville was polite enough to not mention Ron and Hermione around Harry. Harry knew that he was trying to mediate things behind his back though. Harry caught him with Ron once or twice, and they had stopped arguing as soon as they saw him. Ron would brush Neville off with a comment about avoiding 'backstabbing stuck-ups' and hurry off, leaving Neville, who would shrug apologetically and give Harry an 'I-tried' look. Harry appreciated the effort, although it was clear to him that nothing was changing. If anything, Ron started avoiding him more.
Ginny also tried to help. She and Neville were good friends, so Harry ended up spending a lot of time with her too. Ever since she had found out that Hermione was ignoring him, she had made every effort to get Hermione to open up. He knew that she was trying to convince Hermione to speak with him because Ginny told him most of what Hermione said. She was startlingly blunt about it. None of it was flattering in the least.
Even though Harry tried to keep it under wraps, it was only a matter of time before the teachers found out. Professor Lupin held Harry and Ron back a couple times, giving them a small task such as picking up the remains of a lesson in an effort to get them to start talking again, but he gave up when they worked in silence, completely ignoring each other and responding to his questions as if they were the only ones in the room. Professors Flitwick and McGonagall tried similar ideas, but they all gave up in despair when they refused to cooperate. Only Snape and Vandermine seemed to not notice the that they were not talking. Snape seemed to rather enjoy it, because it meant that they would actually pay attention in class instead of whispering back and forth while Hermione took notes for them.
Vandermine acted no differently then he had before. There was no change in the way he treated them. If Harry had not been there when Vandermine told them the truth behind the article, he could have sworn that nothing had happened. He gave no hints that he had spilled one of his darkest secrets to Harry. If anything, he pushed Harry harder. Whenever he needed a pair to demonstrate some fine point of dueling, Harry almost inevitably got called up to the platform. To make matters worse, Draco was excelling in the Club. He drank in the information that Vandermine fed them, applying himself harder than everyone else as he strove to outperform them all.
He began to dread the Dueling Club, because he always took a beating from the more advanced members of his Level. There were a dozen Fifth-years in his Level, as well as a pair of Fourth-years. That left him, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Draco and Seamus. They always were paired up with Fifth-years when they practiced. Harry was not sure of the reasoning behind this, but he obeyed diligently, accepting the beating that he took every time he was slower on the draw then the Fifth-year facing him.
His studies with Professor Lupin were suffering from the stress. While Harry had been able to push the boggart-dementor back into the chest before, he could hardly keep his mind focused enough to even get a wisp out of his wand anymore. His special memory would be ripped from his mind and replaced by anger, anger that he had exploded over Hermione, angry that Ron flew off the handle and accused him of backstabbing, angry that he could not bring himself to apologize. The dementor affected him more and more each time, bringing the faint memories of his parents' screams vividly into his mind. He passed out nearly every time this happened, so much so that Lupin almost stopped teaching him. Only Harry's desperate pleas kept Lupin from pronouncing him a 'lost cause.'
He knew that he had to talk to Ron and Hermione, to heal the rift in their relationships. He spent mealtimes with Ginny and Neville, discussing what to do. They gave him advice on how or what to do, but, although they tried, they were not very helpful. Neville did not know anything about restoring a friendship because he had 'never lost one.' Ginny gave him many pointers on how to approach Hermione, but where Ron was concerned she had no sympathy.
"If he's going to act like a snob, let him. He's a idiot," was all he could get out of her. She obviously did not think to highly of Ron for losing his friendship with Harry like that. "Outrageous" she called it, that he would "give up his best friend just because he thought that Harry liked Hermione. After all," she would add to Harry's embarrassment, "you boys all have more hormones than brains at your age. You can't help it that we are so easy to fall for." Coming from a twelve-year old, it stunned Harry how forthcoming and bold she was.
Both agreed that he should go to Hermione first, because she was the one who would be easiest to reconcile himself with. They figured that, with Hermione on his side, convincing Ron to come back would not be as hard. Harry disagreed with them there. Ron had left in the first place because he thought that Harry was trying to hook up with Hermione. If he went to her first… what would Ron think?
No, it's safer to got to Ron first. It may be harder, but the risks are not as harsh. At least this way I will not have to worry about completely alienating one of them. Despite the fact that it made perfect sense persuading Neville and Ginny that this was the way to go was harder than he thought it would be. They both argued that it was a dumb idea, starting with the harder of the two first, because, if he failed on the first, it would not help his chances with Hermione. Still, Harry was determined, so they caved in, grumbling the whole time.
Harry had decided to do it after a Dueling Club meeting. Ron always seemed to be in a better mood after that, because he was able to spend time around Vandermine. Vandermine made every effort to keep the Club exciting and intense even though they were progressing slowly. He kept the meetings fast-paced and involving so that the students would not have time to complain about the speed of the class. Harry saw the wisdom in this immediately. They were learning at a pace that was comfortable. Not too fast, but just slow enough to make sure that everyone mastered each step before the next one was brought in.
Vandermine also added elements to his classes that kept the atmosphere charged and exhilarating. Some days he would show them colossal battles from ancient empires, with huge dioramas spanning the length of the room. Harry knew about some of the battles from his history classes back in the Muggle schools. Many of the battles were pure combat, with no magic involved. These ones interested Harry the most. He loved the thought that magic was not something that mankind was dependent on. It was a healthy reminder to not put too much trust in any one thing. There were also magical battles that Vandermine showed them. He showed them a battle scene from the war between the Celtic 'druids' and the Norse 'shamans.' Seeing tiny, finger-sized men charging at each other in massive throngs while spells shot forth between them gave Harry a rush of adrenaline that lasted for hours on end. The battles looked so real, so amazing. He caught himself wishing more than once that he had been a live spectator. Then reality would kick in as the bodies began falling and the crowds were thinned. In the end, only a fraction of the sides remained standing and they were too bloodied and injured to continue the fight. Vandermine ended every battle-show with a warning about the dangers of pride and greed, and how they led to these terrible wars.
Today's lesson was no different, but completely different at the same time. When Harry entered the room, his eyes moved automatically to the miniaturized cliffs and sea that were on one side of the room. This scene was not spread across the floor, just underneath it so they could walk from point to point. Instead the scale was larger, with the figures the size of Harry's hand. The entire left side of the room was covered in the scene. On one side were hundreds of Greek-looking warriors carrying spears and shields. Facing them, on the other side of the wall, stood a host of warriors uncountable. Harry noticed that, while the Greeks were all uniformed and formed in rows, the other side was little more than a gigantic mob, with no soldier dressed the same as the one beside him.
Vandermine by the scene, beckoning the students to come closer. He waited until they had all gathered around before speaking.
"Can any of you tell me what this scene is from?"
The students looked around at the scene and shrugged. Vandermine did not appear to be surprised.
"Thermopylae, 480BC, Greece." He walked over to the mob of warriors on the far side.
"The Persian Empire has spread its iron grip over most of the Middle East, Northern Africa and even some into India. They can field armies of millions with ease. After conquering to their east and south, they move west. In this army, they had over two and a half million men." A few students gasped in astonishment. That number was unheard of. "Their target, Greece."
He pointed to the ranks of Greek warriors facing the horde. "Five thousand Greeks mustered to defend their cities. The Greeks were determined to fight, to protect their families at all costs. To do this though, they needed to even the odds against them. This is why they chose the 'Hot Gates,' at Thermopylae. It was a narrow pass, with the sea on their right," he indicated the steep drop off on the near side of the scene, "and unassailable cliffs on their left."
"Not all of the five thousand Greeks defended this pass. Several thousand were sent to guard a hidden pass around their flank. That left a few thousand men against the whole Persian army. At the head of the Greek formation stood the Spartans, the finest warriors to ever walk this earth."
He waved his wand and the figures came to life. The Persians jumped up and down, shouting war cries and straining to charge forward into battle. The Greeks stood quietly, swaying in the wind as they waited for the impending assault.
"Xerxes, the Persian emperor, sent ten thousand men to wipe them out the first day." With another wave of his wand the Persians charged, waving short spears and swords as they advanced. The Greeks readied their shields and locked their spears in place, presenting the Persians with a hedge of bronze.
"The Greeks slaughtered them, inflicting thousands of casualties with the loss of only a handful of their own."
The two side met with a crash that made Harry's skin crawl. The Greeks stood their ground, stabbing at the Persians from behind the safety of their shields. The Persians beat at their shield wall with reckless abandon. Within minutes, bodies littered the ground in front of the Greeks, piled so high in some places that the Persians had to climb the bodies to get at the Greeks behind them. A shudder of disgust ran up Harry's spine as he watched the senseless slaughter.
Vandermine let the scene play on for a few more minutes before he stopped it. He faced the students and shook his head.
"That happened for three days. The Persians kept attacking and the Greeks kept killing them. In the end, the Persians won. A Greek traitor revealed the location of the hidden pass, and the Persians encircled them. Killed them all in the end, even those that tried to surrender. The Greek army disintegrated once they were attacked on both sides, but they accomplished their objective. One year later, the Persian army was routed and scattered by a second Greek army at Plateau. They gave their lives for the freedom of their families and people."
Vandermine looked from one student to the next, eyeing them seriously. "There are two things that you can learn from this. One, power is not everything." His eyes roamed over to the Slytherins, who had watched the battle with rapt attention. "Having many followers or powerful weapons does not mean anything when faced with stout hearts and strong wills." Draco scowled slightly as he spoke.
"Two," he looked directly at Harry, "sometimes sacrifice is the best way to fight evil. Nothing can be won without losing something. But, those sacrifices are more effective than the most powerful spells that a wizard can create."
Vandermine made a hacking motion with his wand and the scene vanished.
"Today we are going to learn how to fight and counter Expelliarmus. It takes intense concentration and a quick mind. I need one volunteer."
Several hands shot up. Vandermine looked at the owner of each hand before choosing.
"Montague, hop up." The Slytherin student clambered up onto the platform, eyes sparkling evilly as he readied his wand.
Vandermine faced him casually, his eyes drifting from Montague's face to his hand, which was already straying dangerously close to his wand.
"You will attempt to disarm me on the count of three." Montague nodded jerkily.
"One, two-"
Montague's hand shot for his wand and he drew while Vandermine was still saying 'two.' A brilliant jet of golden light shot for Vandermine's wand. Vandermine stood in his place and allowed the spell to hit. Then, as his wand shot upwards away from his body, he became a blur of motion. He pushed off of the ground and leapt after the wand, grabbing it as it sailed past his head. Since the spell was still pushing it away, he used its momentum to spin around in the air, twisting like an eel. The spell broke on the wand and he launched himself towards the platform. He landed in a roll and came up with his wand aimed square at Montague's face. A spark shot out of Vandermine's wand and Montague was thrown backwards, where he thudded heavily against the wall.
Vandermine faced the rest of the students as Montague picked himself off the floor, his cheeks burning as a few students sniggered.
"I am not expecting you to be able to do what I just did. That takes years of practice and experience. It took me two years to master that move. However, if I can get someone up here who can count, I will show you what I expect of you. Seamus, come here."
Seamus climbed up onto the platform slowly, shaking slightly as he watched Montague limp over to the knot of Slytherins. Vandermine nodded impassively as Seamus took his place.
"On three."
Vandermine counted slowly and deliberately. When he said 'three,' Seamus pulled out his wand and cried "Expelliarmus!"
He allowed the spell to hit him as before. This time though, he simply snatched the wand from the air as it sailed away from him. Harry heard Seamus swallow hard, but Vandermine made no further moves. He motioned for Seamus to leave the platform, which he did willingly. Then he turned to the rest of the students.
"See that? Just a quick snatch. It takes concentration and speed. Seekers shoulder be good at it." He pointed to Harry and Draco. "You two, try it."
As Harry and Draco mounted the platform Vandermine gave them tips and encouragement.
"Don't expect to get it right the first time. This takes a lot of hard work and practice. Just concentrate on your wand as if it is a Snitch. As soon as it leaves your hand grab it."
They nodded distractedly. "Harry, hit Draco with Expelliarmus."
Harry drew his wand and aimed. "Expelliarmus." He cried.
Draco watched the golden light close in on him with wide eyes. He closed his eyes in anticipation as the spell hit. His wand flew from his hand with a bang. At the last second he grabbed wildly for his wand, but missed. It soared through the air and landed at his feet. Vandermine shook his head and retrieved Draco's wand.
"Don't anticipate the hit. Focus on your wand. You forgot to concentrate and did not look. Harry, you try it."
Harry cleared his throat nervously as Draco readied his wand, eyes burning with shame.
"Expelliarmus!"
The golden stream crossed the distance between them before Harry could blink. He tensed and forced himself to keep his eyes on his wand. There was a blinding flash of light as his wand was thrown from his grasp. As it flew from his grasp, he reached out for it, jumping slightly to grab it. Time seemed to slow down as his hand stretched out for it, fingers grasping desperately. He heard gasps in the background as his ringers closed around the wand, and then reality came back to full speed. He fell heavily to the ground, grunting in pain as his shoulder crunched painfully against the edge of the platform. For a moment Harry though that he had failed. He looked at his aching shoulder and went to touch it to check it… and saw his wand clutched tightly in his fist.
A scattering of cheers went up from the students as Harry pulled himself to his feet. Harry grinned awkwardly and climbed back onto the platform. Draco was glaring at him, his eyes full of loathing and disgust. Harry ignored him and looked at the others. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws clapped their hands in admiration. Hermione was smiling, though she avoided looking at him. Only Ron and the Slytherins did not look impressed by his feat.
Vandermine moved in front of him and nodded appreciatively. "That was a good catch, especially for your first try. Five points for Gryffindor." The Gryffindors cheered at this.
"Everyone pair up and try catching your wand."
Harry paired up with a Fifth-year Ravenclaw, taking turns going for their wands as they were blown out of their hands. They both did well, each managing to catch their wands more often than not. They did this for half an hour. By the end of it, Harry's hand was starting to feel numb from the impact of the spells. Every time the spell hit it felt like he was getting punched in the knuckles. He was surprised that his fist was not bleeding by the time they finished.
The class was interrupted when Kathryn Stringer entered. She ignored the handful of 'hellos' and hurried straight to Vandermine. Harry caught a glimpse of her face as she passed. She looked worried, and her mouth was set grimly as if someone had just died. Vandermine met her halfway and she immediately began whispering with him in tones so low that Harry could not hope to hear. They spoke for a minute before Vandermine nodded.
"Students," He raised his wand to get their attention. "I have just been informed that I am needed to check something down in the Great Hall. Proceed back to you common rooms please. There is no cause for alarm, this is merely a routine inspection. Please leave quickly, thank you, bye."
The students filed out of the room, talking amongst themselves and voicing theories about what was happening. When the last one left the door slammed shut, locking them out from the conversation inside.
"Well, Harry," Neville appeared beside Harry, walking briskly to keep up with him. "Now's your chance. Ron's hanging near the back. It's now or never, mate."
Harry glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, Ron was near the back of the to group, looking cheerful and not the least bit concerned about whatever was happening in the Great Hall. A lump formed in Harry's throat. He hesitated, but Neville gave him a bump with his shoulder.
"Come on, Harry. You can do it."
He shook his head slightly. Back when they had talked about it at lunch, it sounded so easy. Now, just the effort of looking at Ron felt like a burden. He hung his head and shrugged.
"Maybe some other time," he mumbled. "I don't feel up to it right now."
"Harry, if you don't talk to him now, who knows when you'll get another chance. Think about it. You two can talk as you walk back to the common room, without Malfoy or anyone else nearby. What could go wrong?"
"He could say no, get into another fight." The excuse sounded pathetic, Harry knew it. Still, he could not find the courage to bring himself to do it.
"What, are you scared?" Neville sounded confused. "You're Harry Potter. You've defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, twice! You killed a basilisk! How hard can talking to Ron be?"
"Harder than that."
Neville shook his head. "Listen, Harry. If you need, courage, here." He pulled his mother's necklace off and handed it to him. "Take it."
"Are you sure?" Harry took the necklace hesitantly. As his fingers closed around it he felt a pulsing warmth spread through his arm. The necklace brightened a little bit as he accepted it. "I really can't…"
"Harry, just shut up and take it. I won't need it for a few minutes anyway. What could happen between here and the common room anyway?" He laughed. "I don't think that Snape is lurking behind any corners for me."
Harry let out a halfhearted laugh. "If you insist." He lifted the necklace and placed it around his neck. Immediately a flood of warm feelings flooded his body, washing away any doubts that he had. He felt a rush of determination and turned to Neville.
"Wow, this thing really works. Thanks-"
Neville had disappeared ahead of him. Harry stopped for a second, wondering where he had gone to. Then, pushing the question out of his mind, he turned around to find Ron. They nearly bumped into each other. Ron stopped abruptly and averted his eyes.
"Sorry," he muttered as he went to go around Harry.
Harry shifted over to block him.
"What do you bloody want?" Ron snarled, color rising in his cheeks as he tried to go around Harry again. Harry moved in time to block that route too.
"Ron," Harry sighed. "we need to talk."
Author's note: Reviews, people. They are not your enemies. Tell me what you think about this story, whether you like it, hate it, with Vandermine would spontaneously combust and die, come on.