"James?" Sirius' voice echoes through the hall.

No one moves for a moment.

Harry blinks a few times, his palms are sweaty, but he feels cold inside, not to mention a dizziness that threatens to ruin his fake coolness, but maybe Sirius is even more shocked than him. So, Harry moves forward and smiles, extending his hand to the man.

"I'm Harry D'Angelo, sir. It's a pleasure." His heart is pounding inside his chest. Harry waits for Sirius to break out of his frozen state, but the man doesn't move, still watching Harry with wide eyes… as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Dad?" Sally snaps her fingers in front of her father and, finally, he blinks and shakes his head, his eyes on his daughter. "This is Harry, remember I told you he was coming for dinner tonight?"

"I- Yes, yes. Of course!" He lets out a strange laugh and takes Harry's hand, firmly. "It's a pleasure, Sirius Black." Harry nods and tries pulling his hand away, but Sirius holds on to him. "So, tell me, boy, are you here to ask my daughter in marriage?"

Harry opens and closes his mouth a few times, unsure. But Sirius laughs out loud this time and winks at him, finally releasing his hand. He briefly tells Harry it's a joke and pats his shoulder when passing by to kiss his wife.

Sally is shaking her head and when their eyes meet she shrugs at Harry mouthing 'Sorry'.

Eleonora tells them dinner will be served shortly and fast enough they're all occupying a dinning area that Harry finds extremely small for such a traditional and known family as the Blacks. His mind is on overdrive as he takes all in, pictures on the mantle and another hints of their lives. One thing stands out, though, and he can't help walking to the portrait and stopping in front of it. It's Sirius, Eleonora, Sally… Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy… and Hermione, Tom and Bellatrix. He frowns. They don't look exactly happy.

Then, his mind catches up as to why this portrait is there the moment Sirius comes to gaze at the picture with him. He offers Harry another glass of wine and sips on his. "Family." His voice carries a hint of annoyance. "Do you wanna see the tapestry?"

Even not being sure what Sirius means, Harry nods and, while Kreacher and Eleonora set the table, Sally follows them to another room.

"Dad's incredibly proud of this tapestry." She rolls her eyes. "It's kinda of sad." Harry can tell she's mocking her father and Sirius snorts.

"We have to appreciate where we come from, Sal. It's who we are."

The man's words strike a deep chord inside Harry. Indeed. He's a Potter. An Evans. He's a proud half-blood. Setting his jaw he lets his eyes roam over the tapestry, it's big and old, dusty and imposing. Sirius opens his hands and starts explaining a few things to Harry. He doesn't really care, but he fakes interest and nods his head occasionally. Just when Sirius reaches the names Bellatrix and Narcissa his attention perks up. Andromeda is also mentioned - Nymphadora's mother.

They're Sirius' cousins.

Of course.

He barely listen to Sirius' next words. He's reviewing inside his mind the few times he mentioned Hermione to Sally, or even how Ginny made it pretty clear she was close to the Blacks, but Hermione - who is related to them in a way - never even mentioned being friends with Sally… interesting. Could they hate each other? If they do, why is that?

And what about Hermione and Draco? The man thanked him for saving her at the Fair…

"What do you think?" Sirius asks him.

"It's amazing, sir. Beautiful."

"You could be up here some day, huh?"

Harry almost chokes on his wine, but Sirius laughs again and he sees Sally whispering a few words to her father before they go back to the dinning room. Harry lingers behind, his eyes on the tapestry. His mind repeating a certainty: You'll pay for what you did to my parents. All of you.

Sirius gladly opened the Firewhisky Harry gave him, something which made their dinner a lot more fun as they progressed to a state of blissful inebriation. It didn't go unnoticed to Harry how the man kept looking at him when he thought he was focused on someone else. Harry knew his physical appearance might stir some doubts, he even mentioned this to his grandfather a few years ago, but Matteo said "They won't notice a thing, Harry, they want to forget about Lily and James, I'm sure no one remembers their faces anymore. But be careful to those who were closer to them, they might see the resemblance."

And indeed. Tom Riddle said he looked familiar and Sirius thought he was James. Probably he'll get a few more looks at the Ball…

His upper hand is the fact that his parents kept him a secret. Others may find him similar to James Potter, but they never will go as far as to imagine that the Potters had a child. He's safe on that matter.

Mostly because people tend to see what they want, not what is right in front of them.

"Well, Mrs Black, I have to say, it's been a long while since I've eaten so well. Everything was amazing."

"You're kind, dear. Thank you." Eleonora says back and he politely nods.

And when Harry thinks he can finally leave the table with Sally for them to practice the waltz, Sirius says:

"I'm curious, D'Angelo." Harry raises an eyebrow. "Why did you move here? Is there something special in London? Something meaningful for you?" Sirius' eyes are heavy on him.

"I needed a change in life, sir."

"Is that so? Intriguing… I heard you were Head Auror in Italy. An important position for someone to just walk away from it." Sirius smiles despite his words and Harry feels cold. "Has someone already told you how much you look like the deceased James Potter?" Eleonora gasps, her eyes on her husband. "I mean, it's really uncanny."

Harry realizes he has two options here: Change the subject or-

"Is that so, sir? No one ever told me this. Curious. Were you close to James Potter?" He acts as cool as possible, his eyes on Sirius and his hand firm while he extends it to grab the glass of Firewhisky.

"I was." It's the answer. Short and sharp.

"It surprises me that you say this openly, sir. From what I've learned here, talking about the Potters is practically taboo." Harry sips on his drink. "I guess they got what they deserved, didn't they?" There's a sour taste in his mouth. If he had any choice he would never talk like this about his parents, but his desire to test Sirius speaks louder.

However, the man in question barely moves, his eyes glinting while he tilts his head. "I guess they did." It's all Sirius says. And then, Sally breaks the moment.

"Okaaaaaay," She clears her throat, standing, she puts a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come, Harry, we still need to practice that waltz."

Sirius and Eleonora smile encouragingly to both and Harry takes another sip before standing and following Sally out, his mind still replaying his words and Sirius' answer. He barely pays attention while Sally guides him through the house - it's not a big place - and soon they enter a room clearly enchanted to look like a ballroom.

She smiles at him. "We've always loved dancing, my father has been teaching me since forever." Harry opens a side smile, nodding and noticing the magical gramophone at the corner. Sally walks over there and starts to search for the right waltz to play.

But if Harry's truthful, the last thing on his mind is dancing this waltz.

When he blinks and looks up, Sally is already in front of him.

"So, Hermione taught you the basics, right?" He nods, flashes of his dance with Hermione popping into his mind. She looked stunning in that simple dress- "Now we only have to conjure our Patronus and waltz away."

Harry makes a face. "I tried doing it without the wand, it's pretty damn hard." She nods at his words. He wonders why his grandfather never included wandless magic in his lessons. It would be a nice advantage. He clears his throat. "Do you know if Hermione can perform any other spell without a wand?" He tries hiding his curiosity, as if the question means less than nothing.

Sally shrugs. "Who knows what Hermione can really do?" She asks.

"What do you mean?"

Biting her lower lip and looking around she says in a low voice, "She's abnormally powerful, Harry. Don't you know?" He opens and closes his mouth and Sally rolls her eyes, "It's not common knowledge, Riddle has been shielding her from everything and everyone her whole life, always making sure no one notices how truly powerful she can be… I have no idea why the secrecy. But I don't really care. My father told me Hermione could perform powerful magic since she was a kid."

He raises his eyebrows. He hates this new information. "Really? I had no idea. She seems pretty normal to me." But he knows it's not true the moment he says the words. Every spell or charm or hex he's seen her perform so far were perfect and… clean. Powerful.

"Yeah, I mean. Since she was like two or three." Harry is at a loss of words. He has no idea what he was doing when he was two years old, but surely not practicing magic. "So, don't feel bad about not being able to do the Patronus."

Pressing his lips together he nods. But he feels bad. He feels terrible. What was the purpose of all his training if it's practically impossible to compete with someone so naturally talented? Hermione's face while she told him he soon would be able to perform the Patronus pops into his mind. She seemed sure, confident in his abilities. He feels something in his stomach and shakes his head.

Sally doesn't notice his internal turmoil or she chooses not to. Taking a step back from him, she raises her wand and without a word her Patronus invades the room. Harry smiles. It's a big dog. Friendly and energetic like her. Much better than a serpent. The dog runs around them, his tongue sticking out while he sniffs Harry.

"So," She begins, "At the traditional, after we do the walk in circles, we stop in front of each other and take a moment to conjure our Patronus." She moves her hand, extending it in his direction. "Your turn."

Harry takes a deep breath. He can conceal the true form of his Patronus and he's not sure which one he should show to Sally, because whichever he chooses, is the one he's going to perform at the Ball in front of everyone else. In front of those Purebloods…

Gritting his teeth he moves his wand.

The spell takes its shape and soon a big lion is standing in the middle of the room. Sally claps and lets out an excited squeal. "That's awesome!" She says in awe. Harry looks down a bit awkwardly and thanks her, feeling shy all of the sudden.

In a beat the dog is wiggling its tail and trying to play with the lion. However, the feline just looks at the dog, not moving. Harry wills it to be amicable and the lion relaxes a bit, opening its huge mouth and shaking his mane. Sally crosses her arms. Harry can almost read her mind because he's thinking the same: their Patronus have nothing in common. Not even if he had chosen the other one, the real one… It matches Hermione's perfectly-

"Are you nervous?" She asks and he blinks.

"Not at all. Shall we?" He moves into her frame, arms stretched open at the correct stance of a waltz. "So, I know the basics." He winks at her and Sally smiles as she takes his hand and puts another one on his shoulder. Harry looks at the animals: the dog is trying to bite the lion while he only raises a paw to stop the erratic dog… almost as if he's totally and completely bored. Harry clicks his tongue. "What about them?"

"Well," Sally is very close, "we focus on the waltz and they will behave accordingly to what we're feeling."

He narrows his eyes. "Okay."

Sally raises a finger and counts the beats of the song. "3, 1, 2, 3." Harry knows enough to understand that he leads.

And they waltz.

It's not the most difficult dance and he's glad because he can focus on her eyes, on her nose and mouth. He enjoyed kissing her earlier. Their time together is always fun and he can't deny he finds her attractive. Not like Hermione- He smiles at Sally. Harry gets a glimpse of the lion and the dog. The dog is trying to lick the lion's mane while the feline is still at the same position, sitting on his back legs and ignoring the canine.

"Don't worry about them." Sally says in a low voice, close to him, her eyes on his lips.

Harry just nods. Then his mind wanders… "Why do you still live with your parents?" He asks also in a low voice.

"Well, I'm still not married."

Frowning, he states, "Hermione lives alone."

Sally snorts. "She's the Minister's daughter, Harry. She has some privileges. And…" She closes her mouth and looks down. His curiosity perks up.

"And what?"

Sally shakes her head. "It's not my place to tell."

He doesn't prod. But he feels an anxiousness inside him. Now he's sure there's a good enough reason why Hermione isn't married yet, and it's something extremely personal. "Is she marrying Pettigrew?" He asks before he can stop his own tongue.

"I guess. They've been together for a while now. Two years, I think."

Harry doesn't answer and they keep waltzing. Now, his lion is up, strolling across the room, still ignoring the dog, but very much aware of his surroundings. Harry realizes the Patronus is restless just like him.

"Harry, I'm sorry about my father." Sally says out of the blue and he widens his eyes.

"Why?"

"About the whole James Potter thing. He shouldn't have said that."

The lion roars, actually producing a strong sound and Harry stops dancing to observe. The dog lowers his tail in fear and Sally scrunches up her nose. Not compatible at all. Before the situation can escalate, Harry moves his wand and the lion disappears. Sally does the same and they stare at each other.

"You waltz pretty well." She says.

Harry tilts his head. "I know. I just wanted an excuse to be here tonight." He opens a seductive smile in an attempt to try to forget what just happened with their Patronus.

She moves to him and he holds her by the waist, their faces close. Without a word they move to share another kiss. Harry can feel her hands on his hair while their tongues meet, while his mouth opens up to her and his hands close tightly on her waist. The kiss is… okay.

But his heart doesn't beat faster. His mind is not a puddle of thoughts. He's very aware of what's happening. And very aware that maybe he'll have to marry her. Be part of the Black family. Know their secrets. Destroy them from inside.

Harry moves back, smiling and giving her a quick kiss. Her arms are around his shoulders and there's a glint in her eyes.

"See you soon?" She asks bluntly.

He nods and they share another kiss. Then he moves away and apparates back to his flat.

November 11th, 2005

Ministry of Magic

Harry washes his hands, glad that he's having a moment to himself. It's been a hell of a morning. Hermione is meeting with the investigation team one-on-one, asking questions about the witnesses and the site, but Harry knows she has nothing to discuss with him since they were together yesterday. Thinking about what happened still gives him a terrible sensation, but, at least, this way he's being spared of her company. Which he can't quite decide if he likes or not. And that makes him angry with himself.

Ginny and Ron on the other hand were all over him, asking about his dinner with the Blacks. He gave them sincere answers, it was a pleasant evening after all. But many questions came out of it. Sirius talking about James Potter with an Auror; The portrait he saw with the Riddles and Malfoys and the way Sirius uttered the word 'family' with total dissatisfaction; His clear incompatibility with Sally and how that's going to affect his plans… not to mention what she said about Hermione.

He looks at himself on the mirror, his hands resting on the sink. Hermione Riddle has a secret. Or secrets. And Harry is eager to unveil all of them. Marrying a Black, befriending the Weasleys, working with the Malfoys, saving a Riddle… he hasn't met a Lupin yet, but he will… at the Ball. He'll meet everyone at the Ball. Grunting, he closes his eyes. One thing is to plan a revenge, another one entirely is to live with his enemies and find the time and opportunity to plan his next steps. Maybe I should head to the Archives.

Harry exits the bathroom and looks around, not many Aurors are there at the floor. Many are out on missions. The few remaining are focused on their tasks. Draco and Pettigrew are inside Hermione's office and Ron and Ginny are in a heated debate. Harry narrows his eyes at them. What could they possibly be discussing this fiercely? He's sure there's a bubble around them, muffling their words. He could stay there trying to understand what they're saying, but he decides going to the Archives is more important at the moment… Ron and Ginny are siblings, maybe they're discussing a family matter, who knows?

So, stealthy, he walks fast to a staircase at the far end of the floor and starts running down to the Archives. He knows there's no kind of protection there, any employee can access the files, and in a way he's doing nothing wrong, but he really hopes he doesn't have to come up with a lie to explain his presence amongst the dusty files.

Taking a deep breath and hoping that no one will notice him, Harry enters the room. There's no door, just an open arch.

The Archives are quite impressive. Huge, tall shelves stand side by side with thousands of drawers with explanatory tags. He goes past a few, his eyes swiftly scanning every tag. None are even remotely close to something that might refer to the Potters' Persecution. He crosses his arms and stops behind a shelf. There's no one near by and he observes the way files are being displayed. A huge indicator catches his eye, it says: Law Enforcement.

Narrowing his eyes, he realizes every huge shelf has an indicator. Breathing relieved, he walks forward searching for the Auror Department. While he does it, he encounters a few others who are leaning against some shelf and reading a file. None raise their eyes to look at Harry and he's thankful for that.

And, after way longer than he wished, he sees an indicator with the words: Auror D. Missions.

He walks faster and stops at the first shelf. He sets his jaw. There are files since the creation of the Department, since 1740. Why have magic to complicate things this much? He can't help wondering. Shouldn't the whole Archives be a single drawer where you wished for a file and it came right up to your hand? Grunting, he goes past the years in a blur, at least everything is tagged. 1978, 1979, 1980, 1981. He stops right there. The Potter's Persecution began around these years, so he's not sure if the file will be under the year it started or the year it ended.

He opens the first drawer dated 1981. Maybe his chances are better at the year of the mission.

Harry was not prepared for the infinitude of the drawer. There are hundreds and hundreds of files inside. Ma che cazzo! Taking his wand he tries facilitating his life with an Accio. And he almost yells in excitement when a file with the tag 'Potters' comes to his hand.

Closing the drawer he leans on the shelf and with shaky hands he opens the file. The first page is a repetition of the name and the next one is a statement from the Minister:

The Potters' Persecution is a Highly Classified File (H.C.F.). If in need of it, request the file directly to the Minister of Magic. The request can take up to fifteen days while the petitioner goes through an evaluation.

As it is known, H.C.F.s are protected by law and must be kept from prying eyes as their subjects are not to be taken lightly.

Minister of Magic

Tom Riddle

Chewing the insides of his cheeks he closes the file. There's nothing more inside. He shuts his eyes. In a way he already knew. The moment he saw that shelf at Riddle's office, he knew the informations he needed about his parents were there. And now he has no idea how he'll get them. Putting the file back inside the drawer, Harry walks fast out the Archives, his head going a million miles an hour.

He could ask Hermione. Would she suspect him? Would she give him the file? He shakes his head while he goes up the stairs. She's out of question. Hermione would definitely tell her father about his curiosity and Tom Riddle might find a way to interrogate Harry under Veritaserum, and it all would be over. He knows how to lie to an interrogation bubble. He knows how to shield his mind from expert Legilimens. He can even resist the Imperius Curse.

But the only thing Harry isn't able to trick or resist is the Veritaserum. And is not as if he hadn't tried. He even forgot how many times he took the potion while at his training in Italy. His grandfather thought it would be easy to resist since Harry is an excellent Occlumens, but that's not what happened. He has no idea why, but the moment the first drop touched his tongue he was ready to answer any question, to give away any truth. Every. Single. time.

Scrunching his nose he enters the Auror's floor, and just as he takes a few steps, he's violently tackled down.

Harry hits the carpet with a thud, the air leaving his lungs in a rush. He tries understanding what's happening and sees Asmodeus Pettigrew above him. With incredible reflexes he protects his face from a punch.

Finally regaining his senses, he hears a few people yelling behind them. Another punch comes from the other side and Harry blocks it again, not understanding a thing. Pettigrew is yelling something to his face and he focus on it.

"I knew it! I knew you were a traitor! Filthy Italian!"

Pressing his lips together he prepares himself to punch Pettigrew. If the man found out something about his true identity, at least he'll fulfill one of his wishes: Punch his smug face.

But the moment Harry raises his fist, Pettigrew is throw with an extraordinary force to the far opposite wall, hitting it and falling unconscious to the ground. Harry gaps at the scene. And his heart quickens when he notices Hermione did it. She threw her boyfriend against a wall with an incredible spell to… protect me. He feels himself blushing, his breathing coming short and his insides twisting in satisfaction.

Not to mention how hot she looks with a ferocity in her eyes and expression that Harry hadn't seen until now. She's also breathing hard and their eyes finally lock. It definitely takes his breath away. Harry feels like he could kiss her right there. In front of everyone. And he wouldn't care at all.

Slowly he stands and swiftly she comes to him. "Are you hurt?" She asks, her eyes roaming over him, her face completely stripped from any mask or blankness. She's truly and insanely worried about him.

Harry shakes his head in denial and he sees her letting out a deep breath. In what seems a daze she raises her hand and pushes his hair back. Harry briefly closes his eyes at her touch.

Then someone clears their throat and they realize they're not alone. At all.

Ginny is pursing her lips, Ron by her side with his arms crossed and Draco is standing there with an eyebrow raised. And many others are watching from a safe distance. Hermione takes a step back from Harry and he fights his urge to pull her back to his personal space.

She turns to the Aurors and says, "Tend to see if Asmo is okay." Her voice comes out low. "D'Angelo, come with me."

And just like that she walks to her office. After giving the others one final look, Harry follows. When he closes the door, it truly shocks him to notice that he wants to hug her. Badly. He stays put and Hermione leans on her desk with both hands, her back to him. Just as Harry can't understand what's happening, she seems to be questioning her action.

"I-" He begins and she turns to face him. She still looks livid. "What happened? Why was he calling me a traitor?"

Hermione blinks and crosses her arms. "We were talking about the cursed woman we went to interrogate yesterday. And in these situations, we have to report everything since the moment we step inside the house or whichever place," She waves a hand, "Asmo… he lost it when I said Lucinda called you a traitor of your blood. He was already questioning the fact that you were close to her at the altar before the supposedly cursed object made her say those things."

Harry pockets his hands and… chuckles.

Hermione narrows her eyes. "You think this is funny? He has a point, you know?"

He raises an eyebrow at that. "You think so, Hermione?" He walks forward, closer to her. "You think I'm a traitor? You think I helped those women? Had a part in murdering ninety-eight wizards?"

She wets her lips. "Did you?"

"No." He says simply. He's a bit offended she's actually asking. But he understands where she's coming from. He just got transfered and on his first mission a thing like that happened. He had never seen Lucinda in his life, but surely the woman suspects - or have an idea of - what he might be there to do. Harry can't imagine how. But his grandfather knows lots of people. Lots of rebels. Of Muggleborns. Of sympathizers.

"Are you sure there's nothing you want to say to me, D'Angelo?" She takes a step and they stand pretty damn close. So close he can see her tiny freckles.

"Just thank you for saving me from your deranged boyfriend." Her eyes flicker at his words and he opens a tiny smile. "It was satisfying seeing him flying to that wall."

She shakes her head, resigned. "He shouldn't have done that. It's not our way of dealing with things."

"I understand he wants me gone." Harry shrugs. "I can't say I like him either."

Hermione tilts her head. "I'm still keeping my eye on you, Harry."

"Is that so, Hermione?"

Their exchange of words is low and in hushed tones, their proximity almost intoxicating. She gulps.

"Apart from what I already told you, Lucinda said earlier that she'll only respond to you." She presses her index finger against his chest. "Why is that?"

"I have no idea."

"Will you do it? The interrogation?"

"If you want me to, I will." She widens her eyes and he understands the words didn't quite come out with the intent he was aiming for, so, "You're my boss."

Hermione moves back and clears her throat. "Yes. Exactly." She blinks a few times, as if centering herself. Harry notices the heat from the moment after she "saved" him from Pettigrew is gone.

"When the interrogation is-"

"Now." She gathers a file on the desk. "Come with me."

He joins his hands on top of the table. The interrogation room is the same as the meeting room. Lucinda Summers is in front of him, looking totally lost and exhausted. Harry narrows his eyes. Hermione and the others on the investigation team - except Pettigrew that's probably at the infirmary - are watching at an ad jointed room.

He drums his fingers on the table. Harry fears she might say something that can compromise him, but if he refused interrogating her, Hermione would certainly suspect his actions even more.

"Mrs Summers." His voice is deep and firm. "I'm activating the interrogation bubble now. Are you aware that if you lie, the bubble will reveal it and I'm going to have to take drastic measures?"

He waits for her to answer as it's protocol. But Lucinda lowers her head and laughs. Hysterically. Harry presses his lips together, not moving even an inch.

"Drastic measures, Auror D'Angelo?" She shakes her head. "I'm already going to Azkaban, aren't I? Receiving the Dementor's kiss. What could possibly be more tragic than that?" There's a glint of defiance in her eyes and Harry can't help admiring her courage a bit.

"Maybe you're right, Mrs Summers. Maybe there's nothing more drastic than that. But we also have your daughter under our-"

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCHING HER!" She screams at his face. Harry raises an eyebrow. And waits. Of course he wouldn't torture her daughter or anything of the sort. Lucinda starts crying. "I'll tell you everything, just- please- my daughter-" She says through sobs, "She's not guilty, none of us are-" She stops, choking.

Harry moves his hands from the table and rests them on his lap. It cuts his heart open to see this mother suffering. To know that he's partially responsible for hers and her daughter's destiny. It rekindles his hate towards Hermione, mixing it with all the emotions he felt the moment he saw her standing there after throwing Pettigrew to a wall.

"Were you involved in the attacks that took place at the Fair on the night of Halloween?" He asks sharply.

"Yes." She answers and the bubble turns green.

"Were you truly cursed?"

"No." Green.

"So you planned the attacks?"

"No!" She widens her eyes. Green.

"What was your part, then?"

"I was…" The woman sighs, crying. Leaning back on his chair, he can tell a full confession is coming, so, Harry lets her tell her story, "While my husband was alive, hiding Hannah's… condition… was easier. You see, he was the provider, he worked here at the Ministry and no one bothered us. But since he died… things have been incredibly difficult. It's hard for me to provide for us and keep Hannah safe at the same time." She's hugging herself, her head down, "To be honest, I thought I was doing a good job with everything considered, but… one day I came home and there was a man inside. I've never seen him in my life," Harry glances at the bubble, still very much green, "and he was talking to Hannah. She's an innocent girl, Auror D'Angelo, she had no idea what she was doing, she never truly understood why she was being casted out in society and the man tricked her, he exposed her… lack of magic." She stops. Harry silently lets out a deep breath he didn't notice he was holding. He crosses his arms, trying to stop himself from his nervous manners. He knows Hermione is also watching his reactions. "The man threatened me. He said that if I didn't do as I was told he would expose Hannah in front of everyone, in front of the Minister. He said the Minister would kill her himself." Out of the blue she bangs a fisted hand on the table. "And I believed him! I did! We know how squibs are treated! The word is almost taboo. Almost a curse itself! It shouldn't be this way, it shouldn't!"

"And he asked you to play a part at the Fair? This man." Harry cuts her, noticing the woman is getting a little too emotional. He knows she's probably condemned already, but talking shit about the Minister while his daughter is watching is not an extra to her sentence that Harry wants for her.

She shakes her head. "Yes. I was supposed to say those words, act as if I had been cursed."

"How this man looked like, Mrs Summers?"

"I… I'm not sure." Green. "I think he confused me after… I can't quite remember his face. But I remember his presence."

"And how was that? His presence?"

"Menacing."

Harry drums two fingers on the table. He's deadly curious about this man.

"He told you anything about his plans or cause?"

"Very little. I had no idea what was going to happen after I said those words, please, I-"

Even with the green bubble, Harry asks, "But you would have done it regardless, wouldn't you? To protect your child." She sobs, tears falling from her eyes. She confirms with her head, nodding. "I can understand, Mrs Summers. There's nothing like the love of a parent." He sets his jaw. Stop talking.

She raises her eyes to him, opening a tiny smile. "I knew I wasn't wrong when I said I would only talk to you, Auror D'Angelo."

"Why is that?"

"You're the first Auror I see who shows true compassion." He holds his breath. "I saw what you did for me and my daughter back at our house. Even if it didn't work, it meant the world to me. It meant someone saw my Hannah and actually cared."

There's a moment of pause where Harry is at a loss of words. He's grateful Pettigrew isn't at the other room watching. He's sure Hermione hadn't told them how he acted… how he tried to spare mother and daughter. And Pettigrew would definitely have another fit over it.

He gets back on track. "Did you know the other cursed woman?"

"No." Green.

"Did the man visited you again after the Fair?"

"No." Green.

"Do you know who were the attackers? Muggles? Wizards?"

"No, I've told you, the only thing I knew was that I had to act like I had been cursed and repeat those words." Green.

Harry looks at the left wall of the room where he knows they're on the other side watching. There's nothing more he can ask this woman. She was just a pawn in the scheme of things.

"Just one more question. Why didn't you run? Vanished after the Fair?" He's truly curious about it.

She gives him a sad smile. "Even after all, this is my home, Auror D'Angelo. And I had nowhere else to go." She shrugs.

He presses his lips, nodding and after a little while, the door opens and Hermione steps inside with Malfoy. "Take her, please, Draco." She says in a low voice and the man nods. With surprising gentleness he steers Lucinda out. The door closes and Hermione stares at Harry.

"Satisfied?" He asks.

"She's hiding something."

Harry opens his mouth. He frowns. "I don't think so."

"I'm sure."

"How?"

"It's a gut feeling."

She crosses her arms, her eyes still on him, trying to pierce his soul, making him uncomfortable. He snorts and points at the bubble. "Green all the way."

"Maybe she tricked it."

"Not many wizards can do that, Hermione. She doesn't strike me as one who can."

"Please, D'Angelo, you don't wanna see it just because she said you had compassion."

He irritably chuckles, running a hand through his hair. "I still think she was just trying to protect her daughter."

He stands from his chair and walks around the table, stopping in front of her. He's taller and they're so close she looks up at him. He opens a tiny smile at the way she doesn't move away, challenging him to move closer if he dares. He doesn't, though.

"It doesn't matter now," Her voice is low and at this distance he can see some… - guilt? - in her eyes. "They'll be taken to Azkaban tonight. The sentence will be executed tomorrow." She bites her lower lip.

"What?" He sounds outraged. "Already? Both of them?" Hermione nods. He feels nauseous again. Harry leans closer to her, his mouth on her ear. "This is on you, Hermione. I hope you sleep well tonight."

Without looking back, he exits the room, his heart beating erratically. He shouldn't put his position here and his revenge on the line like this… but it's who he is. And as he walks into the Atrium, he wonders if there's anything he can do to help mother and daughter. After all, he also came here to set fire to this ridiculous Ministry, and that's exactly what he plans to do.

Note: Guys, this was the last update of 2022!

Merry Christmas to you all, and a Happy New Year!