Issues

Harry was woken by a knock on his door. As he reached for his glasses, he called out "Come in." Hermione popped her head in through the door and smiled at him.

"Morning, Harry. Sully is downstairs. I think he wants to talk to us."

Harry nodded, still a bit bleary-eyed and sleepy. "All right, I'll be down in a few." He swung his legs out of bed. "Oh, Hermione," he called as she was about to leave. "I want to ask you something."

Hermione came all the way into the room and sat on the end of his bed. "Yes?"

"What do you think the chances are of saving Draco?" Harry figured 'saving' was the right word now because he was as sure as Draco was that he'd perish in Azkaban. Either that or he'd lose his mind from the Veritaserum. It made Harry feel sick to think of Draco in either of those situations.

"I have to say they're not good, Harry," Hermione replied, her kind brown eyes saddened. "I've been looking into the laws on the treatment of prisoners awaiting trial and of course there are laws against it. Back in Grindelwald's time, there were no restrictions on how you could treat a prisoner. Awful things happened to people then, but no one cared because they were all frightened to death of Grindelwald. After he was defeated, the Wizengamot passed a law that put some guidelines into place in response to an underage wizard being badly beaten. The law isn't great, though. It basically says that as long as the Auror thinks the prisoner is trying to escape, they can use force." She sat there, frowning and wringing her hands. "There's no real protection for anyone arrested and in custody while they await trial. And so there's no point in trying to obtain some restitution afterwards, either."

"What about that bloke Arthur was talking about?" Harry asked, horrified.

"Well, he was different. He was denied medical treatment. Bit hard to say he was trying to escape when he was so ill."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Well, we didn't expect him to be able to claim any compensation, did we? Still, it's good to know."

Hermione gave him a small smile, then. "I could make it my first investigative piece for the Freedom Press."

Harry looked up. "They are going to continue with the paper? I thought the fire wiped out everything."

"It did, but there have been donations pouring in since his stories began running in the Prophet. I guess there are still people out there who believe we need papers like the Freedom Press."

'That's great!" He was pleased for Hermione and he saw she was as pleased as punch too. It was good to be reminded that there were many, many decent wizards and that not everyone outside his own circle was tainted with the brush of corruption.

It didn't help solve Draco's problem, though, did it? His stomach flipped again at the thought of not being able to save him. Hermione must have noticed the fleeting look on his face and she placed a hand on his arm. "Don't give up yet," she said warmly.

"That's exactly what I told Draco last night," Harry replied, smiling weakly. Last night had been another turning point in this relationship they were in. Harry didn't think he'd ever felt so connected to another human being as he had when looking deep into Draco's eyes, watching him come undone. It was extremely intimate; such a personal thing to see that he felt honoured just to have witnessed it, let alone caused it.

"Do you think if we told Sully about all this, that it would help?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "I've been thinking about that myself. Just in case things go badly tomorrow."

She stood up. "Well, he's downstairs waiting. Come down and we can tell him," she replied.

When she left, Harry dressed quickly and followed her, still worrying about the future and wanting to get to Draco quickly so they could spend the day searching.

***

Sully was waiting in the kitchen, basically surrounded by Weasleys on all sides, when Harry arrived. He had to laugh; if Sully hadn't been welcomed he might have been rather intimidated being hemmed in by several redheaded Weasley boys. As it was, Sully was updating them all on the situation regarding the fire at the newspaper offices, and all the Weasleys and Hermione, who was busy dishing up a plate of scrambled eggs, were listening intently.

"Kingsley reports that it appears to have been a couple of kids. Neighbours saw some kids running down the street less than an hour before the alarm was raised. I keep thinking that it's too much of a coincidence that just as this series starts, the offices get attacked randomly."

"Bloody ratbags," George said.

"They could have been put up to it," Harry added as he sat down.

"That's true," Hermione agreed, placing the scrambled eggs in front of Harry. "Did the neighbours see enough to be able to identify the kids?"

Sully shook his head. "No, it was dark. They'll keep investigating, of course, but I doubt any more will come of it. I somehow doubt that a fire in the offices of a newspaper that's trying to expose the Ministry would be high up on their list of priorities."

"I think you underestimate Kingsley," Harry said. "He's with us on this issue and, by association, you as well, and if he says he'll find who did it then you can be sure that he will."

"I'll take your word for it, Harry, I only know the man through his official biography."

"Well, we've worked with him before and he's a good bloke." Fred joined the conversation.

"If a bit stodgy," George added.

"He could do with a night out on the town occasionally," Fred agreed.

"Perhaps we should do something about that, Fred," George said, grinning at his twin.

"Perhaps we should," Fred replied and they looked at each other in perfect understanding but no one else in the room had any idea what they were talking about. It was sometimes like watching a tennis match with those two. Made Harry's head spin.

"Anyway, I also came to ask you about something," Sully interrupted the twins. "The Prophet has offered me a full time position as their political correspondent." He sat back to let the news sink in.

Harry was happy for him until he realised that Sully might have a philosophical reason for not joining the large newspaper.

"That's great," Ron exclaimed, though he looked at Hermione who had frozen.

"There's no need to worry about your job, Hermione, there is still a need for the type of paper the Freedom Press is. And I'm not even sure I want to take the job, yet."

"Why wouldn't you?" Ron asked.

"It feels like selling out, to be honest. We cover the stories that no one else will, the controversial ones of corruption and cover-ups. And sometimes we make a difference. I'm worried that I'll lose that edge."

"You will if you join a tabloid like the Prophet," Hermione snapped.

"They've given me carte blanche to write what I want. No restrictions. I wouldn't even be considering this had they not. I'm not a lackey they can pay off with a fancy job to keep my mouth shut."

Hermione subsided. "Damn, I was looking forward to working with you, learning the ropes and things."

"Well, I haven't made a decision, yet. Besides we can still work together."

"You'd be mad not to take it," Harry said. "You'll reach a much larger audience through the Prophet."

"Harry's right," Hermione added, finally relenting as she sat down. "You can do much more good from inside the system than working on the fringes."

"I'll think about it. The Freedom Press has been such a big part of my life for so long now, I'm not at all sure I want to leave."

"And you don't know if their promises are all lip service in any case," George said.

"They might be on the Ministry's pay roll," said Fred.

"All true." Sully nodded.

"If that's the case you can always leave and go back to the Freedom Press," Ron pointed out.

"I have a story for you," Harry said suddenly, catching Ron and the twins' eyes at the news. He nodded in confirmation and saw the wheels turning in Ron's mind before he nodded in agreement.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do, Harry?" Hermione asked.

He looked into her soft brown eyes and saw the concern there, but he nodded decisively. "I think we need to. If only as a precaution in case things go wrong tomorrow. His story needs to be told, Hermione. One way or another the story will come out tomorrow anyway - or parts of it - and I think, if the worst happens," Harry's chest tightened at the thought, "I'd - I'd still like people to know about what he did for the Order. Snape, too."

Sully's attention had been riveted on Harry as soon as he'd said he had a story and Harry turned back to him after Hermione nodded in agreement. "I'd need your word that if I ask you not to publish parts of this story then you'll do as I ask."

"I'm not sure--"

"Without it, you get half the story tomorrow at a Death Eater trial, along with every other reporter there," Harry countered.

Sully debated internally for a while, Harry could see the conflict - then he sighed and nodded his head. "All right, you have my word. You did me a favour on the Veritaserum story and that worked out well, so I'm inclined to trust you on this one, too." He put out his hand for Harry to shake, which he did.

And then he settled back to tell Sully the story of the Horcruxes, the search for them, receiving the spell from Snape that would finally kill Voldemort and the role Draco had played in searching for it. He mentioned nothing about what Draco had endured while being held and punished by Voldemort, but he did mention that they were searching for proof that would help Draco.

***

When he finally reached the cell, Draco was pacing the small room, irritably.

"Where have you been, Potter? It's my last day, probably on this earth, and you have to be late!"

"I'm sorry, had a bi--"

"I need to keep searching for the diary. You're the one who got me all worked up about never giving in, and I won't, but I can't fight if I'm in here!"

Harry could see how worked up Draco was, so he stepped closer and pulled him into his arms. "We're going, right now, I promise," he whispered into Draco's ear in what he hoped was a calming voice. But Draco pushed him away, roughly.

"Well, where is the Cloak then?"

Harry caught sight of the fear in Draco's eyes and regretted not leaving Hermione and Ron there with Sully to explain, or at least sending one of them to Draco to take him to Spinner's End so he could continue the search. Now Draco was agitated and annoyed and would be unpleasant company all day if he pushed him too much. Not that he blamed him; the anxiety must be enormous.

To keep the peace he removed the Cloak from his bag, covered Draco with it and led him out of the cell, ignoring his muttered, "It's about bloody time." He couldn't really blame him; Harry understood the dread Draco was feeling at the thought of possibly being permanently brain damaged, or stuck in Azkaban where he'd last a couple of weeks at most. Conditions in the prison were worse than terrible with the returned Dementors being the least of prisoners' problems.

"What rooms are left to search?" Harry asked when they arrived at Spinners End.

"This main room is about all that's left," Draco responded bluntly and moved directly to one wall and began removing books and leafing through them. "You'll have to follow me and cast revealing spells on them all, too."

Harry sighed, readied his wand and prepared mentally for a long, quiet day.

As they searched, Draco flicking through the books and handing them on to Harry who cast revealing spells over them before replacing them back on the shelf, Harry could feel Draco's mood changing and becoming more desperate. It was in his actions; small things that showed his frustration, like yanking the books off the shelves and yelling at them when they voiced a protest. Even the loudest books shut up when faced with Draco's determination. Draco's bad mood was rubbing off on Harry, though, and he knew sooner or later something was going to give.

They'd searched half of one wall of books and the morning was mostly gone before Draco collapsed in a heap on the floor and sobbed.

"I can't do it, Harry. I'm not as strong as you." He buried his head in his hands, all the fight gone out of him. "We're never going to find it."

Harry snapped. "Get up off that pampered arse of yours and keep looking!"

Draco looked up, shocked and pale and Harry could see the first glimpses of anger streaking his irises. "What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me. I've God knows how many people running around putting their lives on the line for you, you sorry piece of shit and all you can do is whine about how hard it is," Harry roared.

"Well they're not the ones going to become a fucking vegetable or be confined to Azkaban tomorrow, are they? They don't know how fucking terrified I am of that. So shut your mouth, Potter, before I shut it for you!"

"And they have no reason to believe a word you've said. But they trust me, and for some God only knows reason I trust you, so don't fucking let me down, don't fucking let them down by being a whiny shit who gives up and doesn't appreciate all they've done."

Draco stood and moved to within an inch of Harry, snarling. "Fine, but my arse is not pampered, Potter, and well you know it."

"Right. And you survived that, didn't you? So don't tell me that searching this place for a god damned diary is harder than that!"

Draco looked taken aback at that, and for the longest time he just stared at Harry who felt like he could see every one of Draco's thoughts.

"Arsehole," Draco murmured before grabbing at Harry's shirt and yanking him close, claiming Harry's lips in a bruising kiss. "What are you standing around for, then? Keep looking!" Draco snapped when he pulled back for air and pushed him away. There was a slight lifting at the corners of his mouth though that laughed at the angry tone he'd used.

Harry gave a wry smile and licked his crushed lips. Small price to pay for snapping Draco out of his attack of self-pity.

Hermione dropped in with lunch at some point during the day and then headed back to do some work for Sully, cleaning and sorting out paperwork for the newspaper. She updated them on what the rest of the crew were doing. The twins were still working on finding Coghill. Harry had almost forgotten him in all the worry about finding the diary. They'd come up with a way to track magical signatures and were testing it out by collecting data from the places they knew Coghill had been. They sounded hopeful, Hermione said, but Harry had bigger problems than Coghill. Everyone else was at work, apart from Ron who was helping out at the twins' shop.

But as day turned to evening and then to night, the time drew near for Draco to be back in his cell and they still hadn't found the diary. They'd only managed to search half of the room. Harry promised to stay there all night and search if need be. And he hated that he needed to take Draco back to his cell, but if there was any time that Scrimgeour would decide to check on his prisoner, then the night before the trial would be it. If there was any hope of the trial going their way without the diary, then it would be lost if it was found that Draco was not in his cell.

Draco clung to Harry as they said good night. Harry found himself clutching Draco just as tightly, as if he held on tight enough then he might not have to let go.

"Promise me you'll be there in the morning, Harry. No matter what. Even if you haven't found the diary, promise me. I think I can be brave enough for anything if you're there with me."

Harry's heart expanded with tears, though he forced them back down. "I promise," he replied, choking on the words despite his best effort. His chest felt brittle like it was preparing to fall apart at any moment. He placed soft kisses along Draco's jaw to his lips. "Now you promise me something. Don't fight the Veritaserum tomorrow." He felt Draco stiffen in his arms, felt the clenching jaw under his lips. "I mean it. Arthur will be representing you and we'll both make sure that the Wizengamot only ask relevant questions."

"I-I can't have people know what I did to survive," Draco whispered, pulling back to look at him.

"Have you thought that the other Death Eaters might tell them, anyway?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head. "I doubt it. In light of what they'll be on trial for, my situation ranks pretty low on the scale of what's important. I am nothing to them. Once they got over the novelty of humiliating a Malfoy, I was relegated to something they enjoyed when allowed to. That's not going to win them any concessions with the Wizengamot is it?"

"All right. So. Fighting it isn't worth the risk, Draco." Harry let his lips drift across soft skin, feeling the tiny hairs stir as they brushed over his mouth. How could he let go?

"I'll try, but I can't promise anything." Draco let out a soft sound as Harry's lips paused over the sensitive place behind his ear.

It was Draco's decision obviously, but Harry couldn't see where keeping a secret like how Draco survived was more important than surviving this with his faculties intact. Live to fight another day and the humiliation would fade, but at least he'd be sane and mobile and whole. But it was Draco's choice and he had to respect that, all he could do was try and drive his point home in any way he could.

**

Harry headed back to Grimmauld Place once he'd finally said a tearful goodnight to Draco. He refused to call it goodbye; there was still time, no matter now little of it there seemed to be left. The twins were in residence, chattering away in the kitchen over hot cocoa, when he arrived.

"Harry! Just the man we want to see," George exclaimed as Harry walked through the door. "Sit down."

Harry did as he was asked, amused by the excitement in George's voice and the look of achievement on his face. Fred poured some more milk from the saucepan into a cup and added the cocoa and sugar, stirring it briskly.

"What have you two done now?" Harry asked.

The light of achievement was reflected in Fred's face, too, and he grinned at Harry. "We finally made that tracking charm work."

"That's great!" Harry replied, impressed.

"The detection charm isn't very strong yet, and only picks up magic used within the last twenty-four hours."

"After that the signature weakens. Until we develop a stronger charm, that's all we have," Fred said.

"But it's better than nothing. If Coghill uses magic, we'll be able to track him, now."

"Thanks, guys," Harry said. "I really appreciate you developing this for me. I feel a lot safer when you two are around."

"Oh, Merlin's saggy drawers, Harry, don't insult us," Fred said, laughing. "We'll have to surprise you with some hitherto unknown..."

"... and maybe untested..."

"... yes, definitely untested, products." Fred finished.

Harry blinked and then laughed. The Weasley twins could always be counted on to make him smile right when he least expected it.

George reached out and dropped what looked like an old fashioned key on the table. "On a more serious note, I assume that you'll be back searching all night if need be?" When Harry nodded, he continued. "This is a Portkey set to take you straight to the Ministry. It should get you right into the Atrium. Dad set it up for you."

"Thanks," Harry replied, picking the key up and placing it in his pocket.

"Don't lose it," George added. "To activate it, just hold on to it and say 'Ministry'."

"Have you thought of just taking off?" Fred asked seemingly from out of nowhere.

Harry blinked and looked at him. They'd both gone rather still and had uncharacteristically sober looks on their faces. At first he wondered if they'd been joking, but one look at those faces made him admit that they were quite clearly serious.

"No, not seriously," Harry replied warily, unsure of where this was going. "Draco said he didn't want to live his life always looking over his shoulder. Why are you asking?"

The twins looked at each other and then back at Harry. "We just thought that you might be..."

"...thinking about it if things went badly and..."

"...we want you to know that if you do decide to do that..."

"...then you can count on us to help out."

Harry was quite moved. It took him several moments to collect himself before he could reply. "Thanks, guys, I'll keep that in mind." Not that he had any plans to run away. Draco was right. It would be no life living on the run all the time and always wondering when you were going to be caught. As a last, desperate option though...Worried, Harry decided to not rule it out completely.

Several other people came through the door then, interrupting them. Fred leant in and whispered to Harry, "By your bedroom door there's a bag packed with goodies from the shop you might need if you do take off."

"Oi! Is that hot chocolate?" Ron asked, dropping into a seat beside George.

"It is, little brother," he replied.

"Where's mine, then?"

"You will have to make your own, lazy git."

"Lazy git, my arse," Ron complained, good-naturedly. "I've been working hard all day and I have to go and help Harry search for this damned diary for lover boy Ferret Malfoy and I don't even rate a cup of hot chocolate."

"Get over yourself, Ronniekins, because that's about the size of it." Fred leaned across the table and cuffed Ron across the back of the head. Disgruntled, and mumbling under his breath, Ron rose and made his own hot chocolate, leaving Harry to ruminate over the twins' proposal while greeting the others that were now making the kitchen appear to be a small room indeed.

There wasn't really much news since Harry had spoken to Hermione earlier. She'd been helping Sully confirm what they could of Draco's story - which wasn't much. Just background stuff, Hermione said. Everyone tried to keep cheerful and they seemed optimistic on several of the issues they were researching or trying to deal with, and Harry knew that their top priority wasn't Draco, though he did appreciate their help. The group had already grown beyond helping Draco.

Arthur was ready to represent Draco the next day, Kinglsey had assured Harry that his Aurors would make sure Draco was treated decently, fed and showered and given clean clothes before his trial, the twins had promised to keep working on improving the tracking charm and everyone else promised to be at the court the next day as support.

Soon thereafter, he was back at Spinners End with Hermione and Ron, searching for the blasted diary again. Harry was determined not to give up until they'd searched everywhere in this horrid house.

With only half the shelves left to search through, and three of them with wands to do it, it did seem to go faster, but Ron had a habit of tossing the searched through books into a pile on the floor instead of packing them away. He said it was quicker that way; Harry doubted it and Hermione frowned at the treatment of the books, but if Ron thought it was helping him, then he wasn't going to argue; he was just grateful that his best mate was here supporting him.

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said.

"What for, mate?"

"I never had the chance to thank you for being so great about this whole Draco thing."

Ross tossed another book onto the floor in disgust as it had burped at him. "No worries, Harry. Have to admit that it's a bit odd you liking Malfoy and all, and I still don't trust him completely, but I do trust you and so..." He sighed. "As long as I don't have to call him Draco, or treat him as my best mate, then I reckon I can handle anything."

Harry grinned. "You're a good bloke, Ron Weasley, and I can see why Hermione loves you so much."

That made both of them blush and Hermione stepped over a pile of books to hug Ron tightly. "He's right you know, you are a good bloke and I am really proud to be your girlfriend."

Ron's face went beetroot red, and he gave Hermione a playful, gentle push away in embarrassment. Unfortunately it caught Hermione off balance. She stumbled over the pile of books and grabbed onto Ron's robes, pulling both herself and Ron back into the shelves knocking several rows of books on to the floor.

"Are you both all right?" Harry asked, concerned. Some of those books could get vicious and bite.

"Yes, we're fine," Hermione replied, whacking Ron on the arm. "Learn how to take a compliment, Ronald," she said huffily. "Those poor books," she finished, leaning down to pick them up.

"Poor books? I've been clocked on the head by biting parchment and all you can think of is the books?"

"Hush up, Ronald, and put them back on the shelf. We don't want to get them confused with the other pile of books on the floor that we've already searched through."

"Yes, your Majesty," Ron said gruffly, taking the books from her and shoving them back on the shelf.

Harry was watching bemused at their bickering.

As Ron pushed the books back onto the shelf, a strange thing happened. Harry saw it but didn't quite realise what it was. There was a clicking noise when the books hit the back of the shelf and then a section of the wall began to slide away, revealing a small brown wooden door with an old fashioned handle and keyhole.

"Ron!" Harry cried out. "Look!" He pointed to the door.

They turned and looked where Harry was pointing. "Harry! I think it's a safe," Hermione squealed, obviously excited. "If we can get this open it might hold the diary."

She drew her wand and aimed several spells at it, none of which worked, the door remaining steadfastly closed.

"Well done, Ron," Harry said, pleased and excited that finally they might have what they came for. He moved over to stand behind his mate and clapped him on the shoulder.

"I don't ever want to hear anyone call me clumsy ever again," Ron growled, but Harry could see he was as excited as both he and Hermione were.

"Mate, if this is what we're looking for, then I'll take great pleasure in buying you dinner at that all you can eat Muggle restaurant in London."

Ron's eyes lit up. "You sure? I can eat a lot of food."

"I know. That's why I chose a fixed price place," Harry said laughing, almost giddy with anticipation. "One price, eat as much as you like."

"Cheapskate," Ron grouched back. But he was smiling.

"If you two can stop thinking about your stomachs for a moment, you might notice that we don't even know if the diary is in there and unless we can open the safe, we never will."

"Right." They both looked shamefaced.

"Well, do you know any more spells that we could use?" she asked exasperated.

"Hermione, you're the spell expert. If you don't know any more then we don't either," Ron said, pushing his hands through his hair.

Harry refused to give in, though. "Hermione, how about you start looking around here for spell books, there are bound to be some. Ron why don't you head back and see if you can get into the Library at Hogwarts and I'll search around here for a key. Maybe he did things the old fashioned way with a key."

Ron came over and shook Harry's hand. "We're so close now, we'll find a way. I'll let you know through the communication thingy if I find anything."

"Good. Thanks, Ron."

When Ron left, the quiet was only disturbed by Hermione busily flicking through pages and moving books around, interspersed with annoyed little sighs when another book turned out to be useless.

Harry stood there for a while wracking his brain to see if he could think of any place in this house he'd seen a key of any sort. Nothing stood out, but he headed upstairs to start looking in desk drawers in the study. He also needed to contact Draco. He wasn't sure that he wouldn't be just getting Draco's hopes up too high; they didn't even know if the diary was in there or not. But he did need to let him know. It might make his night easier.

"Draco?" Harry called into his wrist and took a turn into the bedroom to lie on the bed while they talked.

"Harry?" Draco's voice seemed so far away and Harry suddenly felt very lonely.

"It's me," he said.

"It's good to hear your voice. It's very lonely here, tonight." There was a kind of bleak sadness to Draco's voice. "I miss you," Draco whispered. "Especially tonight."

"It's late. Why aren't you sleeping?"

It was a bit of a silly question, really. "Worried about tomorrow. I wish you were here for my last night."

"We'll have lots of nights together."

"I wish I could believe you."

"I have some news. We found a safe behind a heap of books."

"You're kidding?"

"No, I'm not. Don't get your hopes up too high; we don't know if the diary is in there, yet. First we have to find a way to open it. We've tried all the spells we know. Ron has gone to see if he can get into the Library at Hogwarts to find a spell that might open it and Hermione is looking through the books downstairs."

"But there's a chance, right?'

"A really good chance, Draco. We'll be staying here as long as it takes to get that damned safe open."

"Well, I think that's a bit more important than spending the night with me. I'll try not to pin all my hopes on it but I can hope, can't I?"

Harry felt desolate at not being able to bring him better news. The news was better than nothing, but it still wasn't unequivocal good news.

"You can hope, yes. I'll contact you as soon as we find anything. You try and get some sleep. You don't want to face the Wizengamot tomorrow with bags under your eyes, do you?"

Harry heard a soft chuckle. "I guess I'll just have to settle for meeting you in my dreams, then. Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Draco," he said and turned the communicator off, sighing. He rolled over and sat up, catching the picture of his mother smiling at him again.

"I wish you could help me find the key," he said wistfully. His mum just shrugged and smiled at him with familiar eyes.

"The key is right under your nose, Potter, if you'd only open your eyes and see. You have your mother's eyes, did you know?"

The words in his dream came to the forefront of his mind, unbidden, although obviously triggered by recognising the familiar eyes. It couldn't possibly be...

Harry picked up the frame and turned it over. It appeared to be a simple frame, clips on either side holding the picture in behind the backing. Breath held and hope sharpening its claws in his chest, he carefully removed the backing to reveal nothing but the back of the photo.

He exhaled as disappointment flooded through him. "Bloody damn you, Snape!" He growled.

I think I always knew it would be you that found it.

Harry jumped back, stunned at the voice of his old Professor coming out of thin air. He looked around for some sort of ghost, but the room was empty.

"What do you me -"

Oh, don't worry I am no ghost. I just charmed the frame to respond to specific voices. In your case, cursing me. I always thought it would be you.

"But what...?"

If you are looking for the key to the safe, and if you have removed the backing on the frame to look for it, then I confess to having underestimated you.

"If you can give me the k--"

I'm positive that knowing your idiotic Gryffindor nature, then you are sitting on the bed spluttering and trying to ask me questions. Which I cannot answer, you fool.

Harry shut up after that. Habit he guessed, but when Snape started calling him names, he knew it was best just not to respond. He had no idea how he'd worked the frame - something for Hermione to study later - but he did know that he was going to get the key to that safe. Eventually.

There are things in that safe that are very personal to me and I would appreciate it if you did not make them public knowledge, Potter. Allow me some dignity in my death. But if you are on some fool Gryffindor mission to prove me innocent, then perhaps I shall assist you.

There could have been countless reasons for Harry discovering this frame, not just the pursuit of a way to clear Snape's name. Still, Harry supposed that would have seemed the most logical to Snape at the time.

The lock is a decoy. All it will take for you to open the safe is to tell it your name. It's been keyed to only open for certain people. I think even you can handle something that simple, Potter.

Not waiting for Snape to finish speaking, Harry replaced the backing on the picture and clutched it to his chest. He'd be taking this picture with him when he left with the diary! Harry could barely even believe it himself. Draco was going to be so happy and relieved and maybe Harry would see those playful lights in his eyes again soon.

Hermione! He needed to tell Hermione about this and open the safe and find this evidence. He stood and was about to leave the room, when Snape's voice halted him.

Potter, if it turns out by some miracle Draco is still alive after the war, I would ask one favour of you, much as it pains me to do so. Look after him.

Harry was shocked at the gentle tone in the man's voice, though he shouldn't be. Draco had told him how Snape had tried to care for him as best as circumstances would allow. Even though he knew Snape could not see or hear him, Harry nodded.

Then he charged downstairs taking the steps three at a time, calling Hermione's name.

"I found it!" he yelled.

She was still immersed in several books all at once and Harry had to wonder how she retained any of the knowledge.

"Found what?" Hermione replied, looking up, frazzled from her search.

"The key!" His excitement jumped at the grin on Hermione's face.

"Where was it?"

"It was under the picture of my mum the whole time. Snape put some weird voice recognition charm on it and it played this whole speech by him. Apparently it's keyed to me and a few other people and all I have to do is state my name."

"Well, go on then! Did he say what was in the safe?"

"Stuff that will clear him. He obviously didn't know why I was here looking for it, but if it will clear him, it will clear Draco as well, hopefully. Besides, he asked me to look after Draco if he made it through the war so surely the diary would clear him, too, right?"

"Open it up and find out!" Hermione was as excited as Harry was.

Harry moved to stand in front of the safe and stated clearly "Harry James Potter."

For a moment nothing happened and then there was a clicking noise, followed by the handle on the safe door turning and a soft grinding noise before the door swung open to reveal the contents. When Harry peered in, it appeared that there were several leather bound diaries and three boxes of small vials filled with a cloudy mist that Harry recognised immediately as memories.

"Hermione, he left all his memories as well. These will add even more weight to the evidence."

"Oh, Harry, this is wonderful. Of course Snape would have left these if he was somehow hoping to one day be exonerated."

"If he were here, I might even kiss the greasy old bastard," Harry said, grinning.

There was a flash of red light beside him and a loud thump. From the corner of his eye he saw Hermione falling to the ground. Instinct had him pushing the door to the safe closed as he turned and flicked his wand into his hand. But he was too late, and saw nothing through the burst of red light heading towards him. He barely had time to hope Hermione was all right before the darkness curled around his vision and he lost consciousness.