Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
An Ally, Of Sorts
Do you know those old Victorian sculptures, the ones that are just of the head and shoulders? There's usually a set, some dignified lady with her nose refined to a point, and her husband who looked incapable of smiling. Well, that's what Pucey's parents resemble. Hovering outside with one of the double doors to the hospital wing cracked open, I peek inside. It's the lunch hour, and the first chance I got to visit Pucey after his collapse. I wanted answers. How did he know there was someone in his mind? Did he think whoever it was, was able to make out some of his memories? And most importantly, was he okay?
But I wasn't expecting Pucey's parents to be at his bedside. Not sure why. After all, my mum was summoned when it happened to me. It wasn't just the Puceys in the infirmary, however. Dumbledore stood at the foot of Pucey's bed. Just as he had done with mine. There was a difference between my experience and Pucey's. His parents were responding quite differently than my mum had. "This is unacceptable", Mrs. Pucey said with consternation dripping from every syllable. She was sitting in a straight back chair on Pucey's left. Her husband stood behind her with one hand gripping the back of the chair. Both of them were dressed in matching gray and black robes. Mrs. Pucey's being just a little different to promote more feminine attributes. It was something that I would expect to see on a stage rather than in person.
"It is distressing" Dumbledore tries to placate. "And we are looking into it. But I think it's important that we discuss the implications of your son's response to the attack". Dumbledore said very calmly.
But the Puceys don't like this change in topic. "We know about Adrian's past life. What we want to focus on is why he was attacked in the first place". Mr. Pucey spoke sternly, and with complete conviction.
"We are looking into it". Dumbledore tries again.
"Have you been looking into it since it happened to Weasley?" The youngest Pucey asked, sounding a bit sardonic.
"Weasley?" Mr. Pucey questioned before Dumbledore could try to explain. But seriously, how much does Dumbledore actually know?
Adrian doesn't answer his father. His mother beats him to it. "The eldest Weasley girl". His mother said, primly looking over her shoulder at her husband. "You remember, Marcellus. The girl Adrian suspected of being like him. She collapsed from a similar attack at the start of the school year, proving Adrian's hypothesis correct. Surely, you recall your son's letter on the subject"… So, Pucey talks about me with his parents?
Mr. Pucey coughs to clear his throat. As if that would excuse his lapse in memory. "That only makes this incident direr". Mr. Pucey saved himself as he turned back to Dumbledore. "Two students under your care were assaulted by a legilimens". Mr. Pucey raised his voice, expressing parental offense. "Strange too, that both of the children who were attacked possess past lives". Mr. Pucey narrowed his eyes, accusingly. I'd hate to ever be on the receiving end of that look. Or to play Mr. Pucey in poker.
"No dear", Mrs. Pucey interjects, voice even. "It's far worse. He doesn't know how many students' minds have been broken into. Since those without past lives would have no defense whatsoever".
"And then there's the coincidence that it happened to both Weasley and myself during defense class. A class we share", Adrian contributes.
Wow, I can't believe they're ganging up on Dumbledore. The Puceys sure do have some balls. "And yet there's been no formal investigation", Mrs. Pucey concluded, narrowing her eyes as she waited for the headmaster's response.
But Dumbledore appeared to be unaffected. "We are looking into it", he repeated with a smile that only seemed to infuriate Pucey's parents. "But I won't keep you with the details. Not when it seems young Adrian has a visitor". Dumbledore calmly angled himself to include the door I'm hiding behind in his field of vision. I tensed up. How? "You can come in now, Miss Weasley. No need to be shy". Dumbledore called out to me, using me as an exit strategy to get away from the Puceys.
Caught red-handed, I chuckled nervously as I pushed the door all the way open. But I don't go past the doorway. "I promise," I said to the occupants of the room. "I just got here". I tried to display a state of innocence. Don't know why. There's no fooling Slytherins or Dumbledore.
Pucey exaggeratedly rolls his eyes at me, as if he is embarrassed on my behalf but not surprised. And I am reminded of our ill-fated Hogsmeade trip where he knew that I had been eavesdropping on him and Stimpson. He's going to think that I have no manners at this rate. Mrs. Pucey seemed to share her son's exasperation at my appearance. I wondered if I was living up to everything Pucey had told her about me. Mr. Pucey, however, looked like he had just swallowed an impressively large pill. "Young Lady," he said, highly disapproving. "We are having a private discussion. I'm sure you can come back later to have whatever is ailing you cured". He sounds like a charm school instructor. What do the Puceys do for a living? I don't think Adrian has ever said.
"Father", Pucey broke in, looking in his father's direction from the hospital bed. "This is Weasley. Judging by her awkwardness, she's here to see me". He explained, reading me like one reads a technical manual. Am I really that obvious?
Mr. Pucey looked down at his son, his aged brow wrinkled in question. "Your Weasley?" He asked. Say what now? And why do I get the feeling that Mr. Pucey isn't really keeping up with this conversation?
Pucey blushed. It was nice to see some color return to his skin. Hell, it was nice to see him react with more than his usual range of emotions. His mother tucks her chin down in an attempt to hide a small quirk of her lips. "Yes dear," She answered before her son could retort. "The other victim". She stayed clear of the term Mr. Pucey had coined.
Mr. Pucey's face softens as his eyes widen in understanding. "Aw," he said, looking back at me. "Never mind then, Young lady. Please come in. I would like to talk to you".
"Um," I said, shifting my weight from foot to foot. I was planning on interrogating Pucey for everything he knows. I wasn't planning on getting questioned myself. And definitively not by Pucey's parents.
"I am not sure it would be permissible of me to let you talk to Miss Weasley about her ordeal without her parents' consent". Dumbledore said, reminding everyone that he was still here.
Mr. Pucey is not one to back down, however. "Who are her parents?" he demanded to know. "I have no qualms in owling them for their permission".
"Nonsense," Mrs. Pucey said loudly, speaking over anyone else's attempt to put their two cents in. "You're here to see Adrian, yes?" She said directly to me, before looking at Dumbledore. "If she's here for Adrian then there is no harm in us talking to a child our son is friends with". She said in her best mother's voice. The type of voice that demands compliance.
"You know. It sounds like you are busy", I said, angling my shoulders so it would be short work to walk away. "I can come back later" I trailed off, making for a way out of the power struggle that was happening between Dumbledore and Pucey's parents.
However, one suffering sigh and stern, "Weasley" from Pucey had me scurrying over to his bedside. I stood on the right side, opposite of his parents and refusing to look at Dumbledore. From one Gryffindor to another, it probably looked like the Slytherin had me trained. But I can't help it. When Pucey uses that voice I just…. respond.
Mr. Pucey Turns his inquiring gaze to his son. As if his face held the explanation to that whole exchange. But his son was refusing to look at him, instead, he was staring steadfastly at the blue hospital wing blanket draped over his legs. Mrs. Pucey, on the other hand, was studying me with a smirking twitch of her upper left lips. She has the same eyes as her son. "You are friends with Adrian?" She asked, her tone a lot softer than it was when she was talking with Dumbledore.
"Um, yea," I said, but it came out sounding like a question. Feeling like a spaz, I dried my shaking sweaty hands on my robes and hoped that no one saw. I'm not sure why I am so nervous. It's not like I haven't talked to adults before. I mean, I used to be an adult. "I mean, yes ma'am". I said in an attempt to redeem myself.
Mrs. Pucey turns her head to look at her son. "Adrian," she said and waited until he was making eye contact with her. There was a scowl on his face, that Mrs. Pucey seemed to take with amusement. "Do you consider Miss Weasley to be a friend?"
Pucey's voice was dry as he responded. Probably unhappy about the path this interaction has taken. "Yes, mother," he said a bit forcefully. If I had said that to my mum, I'd find myself on the receiving end of a heated lecture about proper respect. Mrs. Pucey, however; merely smiled at her son. After Adrian gets through giving his mum a hard look, he flashes his eyes in my direction. "On most days", he tacked on.
I give him a shrug with my hands open at my sides. Indicating that I had no reason to suspect why we weren't friends every day. But if I had to take a guess, I bet those reasons are named Fred and George. "And do you always call Miss Weasley by her last name?" Mrs. Pucey asked, not done with her line of questioning.
Pucey narrowed his grey eyes at his mother. "Yes," he answered. "I thought it would be rude to refer to her as 'hey you'". If he could sound more sarcastic than he already does, I would think that Pucey had switched bodies with Snape.
His mother gifts him with a pointed look, but she chooses to not engage with his comment. Clearly, she has an agenda, and she intends to stick to it. "And you, Miss Weasley", Mrs. Pucey said as she returned her attention to me. "What do you call my son?"
"Pucey," I answered quickly. Glad that it was a question that I knew the answer to. "On most days", I added, copying Pucey's line. I look at him with a retorting expression.
Mrs. Pucey hummed. "I find it funny that two friends don't refer to each other by their given names." Mrs. Pucey looks back at her son with an all-knowing smile. "Do you know Miss Weasley's first name?"
Pucey was practically grinding his teeth as his father and Dumbledore observed this exchange. One with perplexity while the other was unreadable. "Yes, I do," Pucey said honestly.
"Excellent" His mother declared. "Then you both will have no problem in the future of referring to each other in more casual terms". She seems pleased with herself.
"I'm sorry," I said after spending a moment swimming out of confusion. "What does this have to do with what happened in class this morning?"
Mr. Pucey clears his throat; reminded of why he had called me over in the first place. It seemed that his agenda was quite different from his wife's. "Quite right, young lady". He said, squaring his shoulders. "What happened when it happened to you?"
It took me a couple of minutes to figure out what Mr. Pucey was asking about. What a poorly worded question. Clearly, he wasn't the public speaking type. "Um," I said, flashing my eyes in Dumbledore's direction. Am I really supposed to answer that? But Dumbledore doesn't step up. As if he had already forgotten his previous comment about needing Mum's and Dad's permission before the Puceys could talk to me. So, I look back at the elder Puceys. "It was the start of class," I said very slowly, giving them ample time to correct me in case I wasn't answering Mr. Pucey's question correctly. But no one did, so I continued. "Everything was fine until it wasn't". I said, sounding very unsure. Pucey snorted at my efforts, but his mother placing a manicured hand on his covered knee quieted him. I need to learn how to do that. "It was like I forgot who I was. Or rather, I remembered who I used to be and completely forgot who I was currently". Using the corner of my eyes, I glance at Pucey. He nods his head as if to say, 'same'. "But it kept flashing in and out of perspective". I shake my head as I force myself to recall. "The last thing I remembered was my brother telling me my nose was bleeding before blacking out". It felt weird to describe all of that. When I had talked to my own family about the incident, they were more interested in their discovery of Jessie rather than the details of the attack.
I am pulled out of my thoughts by a follow-up question. "You didn't know what was happening?" Mr. Pucey asked.
"No, sir". I shake my head. "I wasn't like your son. I didn't know someone was trying to invade my mind".
Dumbledore decides this would be a good moment to reinsert himself into the conversation. "That does bring up an interesting point". He said using a serene voice that Mr. Pucey immediately bristled at. "How were you able to sense the attack, Adrian?"
Dumbledore directed his inquiry at Pucey, but it was his mother who answered. She waved a hand at Dumbledore as if it was a silly question. "Adrian told us about his past life when he was three. Of course. Once Adrian informed us of his past life, we recognized the potential dangers that he may encounter. So, we started him on meditation and other exercises to clear his mind to help him build up resistance to mental assaults. When he was a little closer to his eleventh birthday, we found a trusted family friend to instruct him in occlumency." Her answer is very put together. But it sounds rehearsed to me. Why would you lie about getting your son occlumency lessons? It sounds like something well-off pureblood families would do, past life besides.
"Did you really tell them about your past life when you were three?" I asked, trying to subtly dig deeper.
Pucey gave me a half shrug, but his mother answered for him again. I'm starting to see a trend. "He wanted to avoid having to relearn things a second time around as much as possible." Mrs. Pucey said, a proud, genuine smile blossoming on her face and lifting her cheeks. "Marcellus and I weren't surprised".
"No", Mr. Pucey agreed. "Our boy was always ahead of where he should be developmentally". He clapped Pucey on his shoulder, seemingly unaware of Pucey's hunching shoulders as he tried to look smaller and smaller so people would stop paying attention to him. Heh, the woes of an only child. I'm assuming. I don't actually know if he has any siblings. "Though", Mr. Pucey adds on as he turns the conversation. "Given Adrian's education in Occlumency, it must have been a skilled legilimens. Not another student". He said all of this while staring Dumbledore down, demanding action with his eyes.
"Yes," Mrs. Pucey agreed as she shifted in her chair in order to stand up. "Shall we retire to your office to discuss exactly who you should be investigating and what you will be doing for now on to keep our son safe?" She phrased it as a question, but as she was speaking Mrs. Pucey was already walking to the exit. "The children can stay here and talk. I'm sure they would rather socialize without the presence of adults". She said over her shoulder, giving Pucey a conspiring look that he was refusing to return. This gives Mr. Pucey time to catch up with his wife. But not after he assured Pucey that they would see him again before returning home.
"I promise", Dumbledore said as he trailed after the couple. "We are looking into it".
That was the last thing Pucey and I heard from the adults as they left the hospital wing. We stared at their backs as we watched them go. I waited for the door, the same one I had entered through, to close behind them before turning to Pucey. "So, how long have I been 'your Weasley?'" I asked because that has really been bugging me since his dad first said it.
The deadpanned look I get in response tells me that I should have kept my mouth shut.
Pucey, being who he is, wastes no time to get straight to business. "What do you know?" He asked directly as he adjusted himself into a better sitting position.
"I came here to ask you what you know". I retorted. Frankly, I was done being interrogated for the day. It was his turn. "Do you think whoever it was figured out who you were in your past life?" Because that's the big issue. Of course, I know who is breaking into students' minds. And if You-know-who knew that Regulus Black, a follower that betrayed him, was reincarnated as one of Quirrell's students it could only mean hardship for Pucey. Albeit, a hardship that will most likely not take place until You-know-who revives. But either way, it's bad news.
Pucey narrowed his eyes at me but complied. Though I wondered, for how long. "Maybe", he said, sounding very tense. "It's like my mother said. I do know occlumency, so only someone stronger than me could have entered my mind. Meaning, that in my current state it was probably an adult. Since my magical core isn't the same as it was when I was in my old fully-grown body". Makes sense. "I was able to push the intruder back most of the time, but a few old memories slipped through my defenses.". Pucey breaks eye contact with me in favor of staring down at his hands as he clenched and unclenched them. "If the intruder managed to make sense of my memories, he would have seen the inside of the Black house, and the night I… Regulus received the dark mark".
A moment of silence takes place between us as we both contemplate what that means, but for different reasons. To Pucey, I can only imagine that he was afraid. Possibly, someone out there he didn't want knowing, knew the big bad secret of his past life. While I was thinking about what You-know-who would do if he got his hands on a traitor. Reincarnated or otherwise. I suspect that neither thought was pleasant. "How do you know Occlumency?" I asked, feeling obligated to change the subject to keep the room from becoming too depressing.
Pucey sighs as he tears his gaze away from his hands. "It's as my mother said. After I told them about my past life, they started to coach me on ways I could protect myself. Though, since Regulus was harboring information from the dark lord, I also had some knowledge on Occlumency that I carried over from my past life" Pucey admitted. He shakes his head once, almost as if in disbelief. "I would have been fine too". He complained. "No one would have gotten past my shields if I hadn't been distracted, and if this body wasn't this young".
"Distracted?" I asked, wrinkling my forehead. I don't think I've ever seen Pucey distracted. Pucey distracted does not compute. I have no knowledge of such an event ever occurring.
"About Sirius being set free", Pucey said, voice growing soft and tentative as he said Regulus' brother's name. "Can we talk about that some other time?" Pucey asked me a moment later, with the usual hard edge back in his tone. I nod my assent. I wouldn't expect anything less. Seeing my agreement, Pucey adds on. "That's how the bastard must have slipped in". He almost sounds like a petulant child.
"So, you don't know who did it?" I asked, getting back on track.
I am leveled with a hard look. "Do you know?" Pucey asked. At the shake of my head, he responded with, "Then why would I know?" Well, there's no reason to get snippy with me. But I am not deterred. I do have six brothers after all. "My father thinks it must be Quirrell", Pucey moved on. "And I have to agree with him. Quirrell was the only adult in the room at the time. None of our classmates should have the ability to effectively use legilimency. If any of them can use it all.".
Walking around Pucey's Hospital bed, I sat down in the chair that Mrs. Pucey had been sitting in before she left. "But other than suspicion and likelihood, we have no proof". I said, trying to contribute but not wanting to spill the beans about Quirrell. If I did that, I would have to explain how I know. And... Well, that's one road I am not ready to travel down with Pucey.
"And Dumbledore doesn't seem to want to investigate". Pucey said as he stared straight ahead. He's completely focused on the thoughts swirling in his noggin. This is some intense Slytherin brainstorming going on right here. "If it had been just me, I would have accused him of being biased against Slytherins. But since it happened to you, a Gryffindor, it has to be something else. That or the old fool is just ready for retirement". Pucey said with an annoyed scoff. But he seemed to have steeled himself. Somehow, in the short amount of time he had been in the hospital wing, Adrian had found resolve. "I want to find out who it was. I want to prove that it was Quirrell. If I do that, maybe I can request for the aurors to wipe his memories once he's charged. Past lives are highly private after all. The court would recognize that", Pucey muttered to himself, before turning to me. "Will you help me? You and your psychopathic brothers?"
Shocked, I just stare at the third-year Slytherin with my mouth slightly gapped. "You want to work with Fred and George?" I asked very slowly.
Pucey adopts an uncomfortable frown. "It pains me to admit it. But your brothers are tricky enough that I think they'll be better at discovering the truth than me. Besides, don't you three want to know who attacked you?"
I stutter a little but end up saying "yes". It's not like I can tell him we already know who made me have a fit all those months ago.
Pucey gives me a small satisfied nod. "We have mutual ground in this endeavor". He said, and suddenly I could see the similarities between him and his father. "You'll speak to them for me?"
With a circular nod, I agreed. This alliance might actually work to our advantage. Though I didn't like the thought of using Pucey for an ulterior motive. But he was practically volunteering! "They might make you wear a hat like this", I said, pointing up at the pink Sherlock Holmes hat sitting on top of my head.
Pucey gives it a long look as if it repulsed him. "If they try, I'll burn it".