Questions and Answers

Andrew glanced at the small hourglass on the table as the last grains of sand slipped from the top globe. He looked across the low table at the man sitting rigidly in the comfortable armchair. In all the weeks he'd been coming to the office, he'd never said a word, beyond a stiff greeting. Every time Andrew had asked him a question, his face took on a tense, shadowed edge, and while Andrew could see the answers fly through his head, his mouth remained stubbornly shut. 'Mr. Malfoy...?' he said softly.

'Mr. Malfoy was my father,' the man croaked irritably. 'My name is Draco.'

'All right. Draco.' Andrew balanced the small notebook on the arm of his chair. 'Why are you here?'

'Isn't my time up?' Draco asked, gesturing to the hourglass.

Andrew shook his head. 'You're my last patient today. I've got plenty of time.'

Draco's lips pressed together in a thin, white line and the line between his eyebrows deepened. But he still said nothing.

Andrew took a deep breath. He hardly ever said to patients what he was about to say to Draco. 'I don't think this is going to work,' he said quietly.

Draco's head jerked up in surprise, his normally pale face flushing deeply. 'Why?'

'Mr. Mal--' Andrew checked himself. 'Draco. You have to want this. You have to want me to help you. And if you don't talk to me, I can't help you. I've asked you every question I know how to ask and nothing... So, unless you're prepared to talk to me, you're wasting my time and yours.'

Draco stared down at his interlaced fingers. 'I don't really hate Harry Potter,' he muttered.

'Excuse me?'

'I don't hate him. I envy him, actually.'

'Really? Why is that?'

'He makes it all look so easy,' Draco murmured, thinking of the image he had of Harry sending his youngest son off to school three years ago when Scorpius had started school.

Andrew frowned. 'Oh? And what makes you think Harry Potter has it easier than you do?'

Draco rose to his feet and started to leave the office. As his hand landed on the doorknob, he turned back to Andrew. 'Well, I'm here aren't I? And I can almost guarantee you that he isn't.' With that, he slipped out of the door, annoyed at how badly his hands shook.

xxxxxx

Teddy threw himself into a chair. 'So why am I here again?'

Harry opened the cupboard and pulled out the Pensieve. 'Because I think the key to solving this debacle lies in here.'

Teddy's head craned forward, frowning at the silvery liquid inside. 'What is that?'

'Pensieve.'

'Really?' Teddy propelled himself to the desk. 'I've read about these...' He traced the runes etched on the rim. 'Wicked... How did you get one? They're really rare.'

'Inherited it,' Harry said shortly.

'How does it work?' Teddy breathed reverently.

'How do you know about them?

'All that research I did about memories when I was in school,' Teddy replied, tearing his gaze away from the Pensieve. 'None of the books really talked about how it works. Just said it was a way to review memories...'

'I'm not exactly sure,' Harry admitted slowly. 'I've only used it a few times. I want you to go back and look over things with me. Maybe I'm missing something. But there is something someone has said or done in the past few years and I think if I can figure out what it is, I can figure out who's behind all that Muggle-baiting...' Harry sighed.

'And you know this how?' Teddy drawled, giving the Pensieve a final longing look.

'Came to me in a dream,' Harry said smoothly. He stood back and gestured to the Pensieve. 'Just put your face into it...'

'Yes, I know,' Teddy snorted. 'Probably know more about this thing than you do,' he taunted lightly, as his face touched the surface of the liquid. When he blinked he was standing in Harry's office, more than a year ago, watching himself lounge in one of the chairs across from Harry's desk. 'Wow...' he breathed. 'It's like watching a film...'

'It is pretty neat, isn't it?' Harry commented. He chewed his lip as he watched his conversation with Teddy play out.

Teddy scratched his nose meditatively. 'Maybe. But generally not. We had a decent Legilimens on the squad last year before he retired. He said that's what usually happens with a Mass Memory charm. It makes the person think they were dreaming, and dreams don't show up in the same way as genuine memories in Legilimency or Veritaserum.'

Harry flicked his wand at the memory, stilling it. 'Who was that?'

'Who was who?'

'That bloke on the squad that retired who was a Legilimens,' Harry said quietly.

'Oh, damn... Let me think...' Teddy's brow furrowed as he searched his memory. That had been his first year as a full-fledged member of the Obliviators, and names were still jumbled in his brain. 'He retired just after I finished the training year...' Teddy's hands raked through his hair. 'Caleb... Carl... Callum...' He softly growled in the back of his throat. 'I don't remember,' he said desperately. 'I never used his first name, really...' Teddy added shamefacedly.

'That's all right. We can go back and look at the records of who retired and when...' Harry glanced at Teddy. 'When did he retire exactly?'

'Early summer. The year Al started school... So that would be... 2017...?'

'Yeah.' Harry grabbed Teddy's elbow. 'Come on...' He tugged slightly and the next thing Teddy knew, they were staggering across the rug of Harry's small office in the house. 'Listen, I don't usually do something like this, but, seeing as how you've been in on this from the beginning... Why don't you come with me to finish this out tomorrow? Check the files to see who it was?'

Teddy shook his head. 'No... I've got something else I need to do.'

xxxxxx

Rose sat in a chair next to the stairs leading to the boys' dormitories, toes drumming impatiently on the floor, intending to pounce on Hugo as soon as he came into the common room. They hadn't heard anything from their parents recently, and Hermione never let more than a week go by without a letter. It had been more than a month since they'd received a letter from home. Rose's own letters home had gone unanswered. Hugo wasn't exactly a letter writer, but he could be prodded into writing home every once in a while.

Hugo soon emerged, eyes heavy-lidded with sleep, absently tucking his shirt into his trousers. He came to a stop at the base of the stairs in surprise. Rose never waited for him in the mornings. She claimed if she did, all that would be left for breakfast would be stale toast and black pudding. 'I finished all my homework last night,' he said in slight alarm, knowing she would immediately write to Hermione if he was neglecting his studies.

'Well, bully for you,' Rose muttered. 'That's not what I was going to ask, but thanks for sharing.' She grabbed Hugo's arm and dragged him to a secluded corner of the common room, as a group of fifth year boys rumbled down the stairs. 'Have you heard from Mum or Dad?' she asked bluntly.

Hugo's expressive face tightened. 'No.'

Rose paled. 'You don't think...?'

'That Grandmum's worse?' Hugo finished. He flung his robes on and took a moment to glare at his sister. 'Of course she's worse,' he snorted. 'Didn't you pay attention when Dad told us about it during the summer?'

'Of course I was paying attention,' Rose snapped. 'But do you think it's gotten so bad that they have to hide it from us?'

Hugo picked up his schoolbag and hoisted it to a shoulder. 'Don't be ridiculous,' he retorted. 'Mum's probably just busy with Grandmum, like she's been since your Easter hols last year. She didn't owl you much then, either, if you recall,' Hugo said pointedly. 'And if I know Dad, he's told Mum he'll write to us, but hasn't gotten round to it yet.'

Rose' mouth worked soundlessly.

'You look like a fish,' Hugo told her conversationally.

'Aren't you worried?'

Hugo started for the portrait hole. 'Yes, I am,' he said mildly. 'But what good it is to get fussed when we're all the way up here, and they're all the way in London?'

'But...' Rose began.

Hugo turned to Rose, his cheeks reddening. 'Stop it,' he hissed. He hadn't liked watching Jane's memory disappear bit by bit the past two years while Rose had been in school. He'd noticed it long before his mother had when photographs that had been on the shelves for many years had suddenly vanished. He'd asked once, where the photograph of his grandfather had gone, and Jane, who never lost her temper with him, snapped at him. He'd fled to the back garden, and passed several minutes pinching off the dead rosehips, just for something to do, even though Hugo didn't care for gardening overmuch. When he returned to the house, Jane acted as if it hadn't happened. 'Just stop, Rosie, all right?' He pushed the portrait hole open, and climbed over it, refraining from slamming it, like he wanted to, but Hugo wasn't in the mood to be lectured by the Fat Lady.

Rose remained in the common room, until she was sure everyone was in the Great Hall, then crept through the corridors to the Transfiguration classroom. She opened the door and slipped through the small opening she created. Professor Trentham came out of the office behind the desk, with a stack of essays in her hands, humming lightly to herself. 'Rose!' she gasped. 'I didn't think anyone was in here.' Trentham put the rolls of parchment on her painfully neat desk and added, 'I thought you'd be at breakfast.'

Rose shook her head, keeping her eyes glued to the scarred surface of her desk. She was afraid if she spoke, she would burst into tears.

Trentham wound through the maze of desks and perched in the chair next to Rose. 'Are you feeling ill?'

'No.' Rose fiddled with an abandoned quill that had been left on the desk. 'I'm fine.'

Trentham eyed the front of Rose's robes. She was an inadvertently messy eater. No matter how hard Rose tried, more often than not, she ended up with jam, crumbs, or something dribbled on her robes, despite the fact Rose's table manners were nearly impeccable. 'No breakfast today?'

'No.'

Trentham mentally calculated how long it had been since she'd seen an owl deliver anything for Rose or Hugo at meals. She still kept an eye on Gryffindor, even though Neville had proven to be an excellent Head in the four years since he'd taken over from her. 'Problems at home?' she guessed.

Rose shrugged. 'Sort of...' she allowed. 'My mum's mother is somewhat ill, and Mum's been helping to care for her.'

'I see.'

'I haven't heard anything from either of my parents in weeks,' Rose sighed. She looked up at Trentham. 'What if... she...?' Rose's throat closed around the words.

'We'll make sure you get home, as quickly as possible. And when you come back, we'll help you catch up with the schoolwork you've missed.' Trentham rose from the chair and patted Rose on the back. 'And Rose...?'

'Ma'am?'

'If you need to talk, my door is open. I know Professor Longbottom is your Head of House and that you've known him your entire life. But if you can talk to me if you want.'

Rose traced the initials a previous student had carved into the top of the desk. She didn't meet Trentham's eyes. 'Thank you, Professor.'

xxxxxx

'Hannah?' Neville opened the hidden door to his quarters at Hogwarts. 'Hannah...?' He trailed off as he gazed at the sitting room floor. Toys were strewn across the floor. It looked like the aftermath of an intense battle.

Hannah darted from the bedroom on the other side of their quarters from theirs with a wild-eyed expression, looking extremely disheveled. 'Shhhh!' she hissed. 'I just got him down for his nap!' She gently closed the door, her shoulders drooping.

'What happened in here...?' Neville asked in confusion.

'Eric.' Hannah sighed sinking into the sofa.

Neville began laughing. 'You must be joking. He's one baby!'

'A one-year old who is capable of being in ten places at once,' Hannah retorted. 'As soon as I got one mess tidied, he'd made another, and was well on his way to creating yet one more.' She rubbed her eyes. 'I gave up trying to clean it all up about eleven this morning.' She wearily pulled her wand from the pocket of her trousers and flicked it at the clutter on the floor. Wooden blocks flew into a small basket; the small menagerie of stuffed creatures lined up on a shelf; various pieces of chunky puzzles put themselves together and stacked into another basket next to the first one. There was a knock on the door and Hannah muffled a pungent curse. 'If they wake Eric up, I won't need my wand to kill them,' she muttered.

Neville opened the door with a grin. 'Hello!' the witch on the other side said brightly in a way that reminded Neville uncomfortably of Dolores Umbridge. 'I'm here for your home visit,' she explained. 'I'm Cary Rodding, from the MLE.'

'Home visit?' Hannah asked blankly from behind Neville. 'Whatever for?'

'I see someone didn't read the terms of the adoption agreement,' Cary said, pursing her lips disapprovingly. 'In order to finalize the adoption, we have to establish that you are providing the child with an appropriate home environment. Otherwise...' She shrugged eloquently.

'Hang on...' Neville turned to Cary. 'You're saying that you can remove him at any time, if you don't think Hannah and I are taking proper care of Eric?'

Cary gave Neville a small nod. 'Precisely.' She looked around the small sitting room. 'Where is Eric?'

'Sleeping,' Hannah said shortly. 'And don't even think about waking him up,' she said menacingly.

'If you take Eric away, where will he go?' Neville persisted.

'We'll attempt to find relatives, if there are any,' Cary sniffed. 'But seeing as how Eric doesn't have any, we'll place him in another home.' She sat on the edge of the sofa. 'Now, then... I'd like to ask the two of you a few questions.'

Neville jabbed his wand irritably at a spot across from the sofa and two chairs appeared. 'Right.' He sat down, pulling Hannah down with him.

Cary consulted a clipboard in her hands, making Hannah's lip curl in distaste. She glanced at Neville and after ensuring Cary couldn't see her, mouthed, 'Umbridge,' making Neville snort.

'Now, Mrs. Longbottom, you are the landlady of The Leaky Cauldron?'

'Yes.'

'And what does that entail exactly?'

Hannah folded her hands together. 'Just the day-to-day operations. I'm not there at all hours of the day... I go in for a bit to check on things, make schedules for the pub staff and the housekeeping staff. Make arrangements for things that need to be repaired. Keep an eye on the supplies and order more. Hire staff if there's turnover, and there's been very little turnover since I've been running the place.'

Cary made a note on her clipboard. 'And how long has that been?'

'Sixteen years.'

'And how does Eric fit into all this?' Cary asked.

'He can go with me. Easily.'

'And what if he can't...?'

'I can take care of him, then,' Neville interjected.

'You're the Herbology teacher here?' Cary inquired.

'Yes. For twelve years,' Neville replied stiffly, repressing a memory of Umbridge asking questions in that same tone of voice when he'd been fifteen.

'And how is your schedule?'

'Six classes a day, generally,' Neville supplied. 'Both our schedules are fairly flexible.'

'And this...' Cary's hand swept in a gesture that took in their quarters. 'Is where you intend to raise Eric?'

'Of course it is,' Hannah snapped. 'Neville's the Head of Gryffindor House,' she added. 'He has to live here.'

'And you think you'll have sufficient attention to raise a child?'

'And why wouldn't we?' Hannah asked incredulously.

'The Head of a Hogwarts House often finds their extracurricular time taken up with other... activities, shall we say? Patrols and the like. Dealing with students.'

Neville exhaled strongly through his nose. ThisisforEric. ThisisforEric. ThisisforEric, he reminded himself. 'I'm hardly the first Hogwarts teacher to raise a family here,' he said quietly. 'Just the first one to do it in decades.' He reached for Hannah's hand. 'We'll make it work,' he insisted.

Cary scribbled rapidly on the clipboard for several long moments. 'Very well,' she said stiffly. 'I shall see you again in two weeks' time.'

'Will we get advance notice?' Hannah sighed.

'No.' Cary stuffed the clipboard into her oversized bag and strode to the door. 'Good day.' She left, leaving Neville and Hannah staring at the door long after she left.

A soft scratching sound at the door sent Hannah lunging at it. When she opened it, one of the school elves stood in the corridor, balancing a large basket in her hands. 'Mrs. Hannah!' she squeaked. 'We's thought you and Mr. Neville would be wanting dinner in here tonight.'

'Oh...' Hannah blinked at the small elf for a moment, before taking the heavy basket. 'Thank you...'

'I's Sammi, ma'am.'

'Thank you, Sammi.'

Sammi peered hopefully into the sitting room. 'Mrs. Hannah...?' she began hesitantly. 'Might I's be coming to see the baby?'

'Really?'

Sammi nodded. 'My great-great-great-great grandmother was helping to raise Professor Binns. He was being born here...'

'That explains a lot,' Neville muttered.

'That would be lovely,' Hannah told Sammi, ignoring Neville. 'Tomorrow afternoon?'

Sammi smiled blindingly and scampered down the corridor.

xxxxxx

'I hate this...' Lily moaned, burying her head into her arms.

'Hate what?' Scorpius asked curiously.

'History of Magic,' Lily groaned. 'It's so boring!' she wailed.

'It's not, really,' Scorpius told her.

Al's quill dropped to the parchment in front of him, splattering his Astronomy essay with bright purple ink. 'Have you gone mad?'

'There is nothing wrong with the subject of history,' Scorpius stated primly, in a manner that reminded the assorted Potters and Weasleys at the table in the library of their uncle Percy, making several of them snigger. Scorpius turned his attention to Fred and Jacob. 'What?'

'Percy!' Fred coughed.

'Swotty prat!' Jacob added, coughing in a similar manner to his twin.

'Don't pay attention to them,' sighed Sophie. 'They not only share a brain, they nicked it from a six-year old.'

'He's right,' Hugo chimed in from his spot at the corner. 'It's not so bad if Binns isn't teaching it.'

'And how do you know that?' James asked, his brow sweeping up. 'You're just an ickle firstie. And Binns is still teaching through the fourth year...' he added with a grimace.

'I had a free period one day last week, and I sat outside the door when the sixth years were in their class.' Hugo scanned his Charms essay for spelling errors. 'Professor Moreno is much more interesting than Binns.'

'Then why on earth doesn't Rafa teach it to the younger students?' Lily demanded.

'Professor Moreno, Lils,' Al reminded her. 'Can't call him by his given name here...'

'I heard it was quite a fight to get Binns to give up teaching the N.E.W.T. level class,' Maddie interjected. 'He put up something of a fuss, then sort of forgot about it, and showed up the first day when Moreno was to begin teaching, and refused to leave.'

'Yeah... I remember that,' Isabella told Lily. 'It was my first year. If I recall, they were getting concerned at the amount of students who weren't advancing in history past the O.W.L. examination. Actually, it was MLE that had the concerns. Rather a difficulty going into the legal branch of MLE if you don't know your history,' she told them.

'Vic told me they've been trying to get Binns to retire since Teddy started school,' Maddie said in a whisper, giving Madam Pince a significant look and clearing her throat. They immediately buried their collective noses into their books and notes, waiting for her to pass their crowded table.

'I heard that Rafa - Professor Moreno - oh, bugger it! - Rafa doesn't want to teach it full time,' Al said, as soon as Madam Pince had gone back to her desk by the door. 'Not while he's teaching Arithmancy as well.'

'Wouldn't mind taking history with Moreno,' Hugo huffed. 'He's really good.'

'He's good in Arithmancy, too,' James said. 'We hardly use the book most of the time. We get assigned a riddle or some other problem for the period and have to try and figure out what it means magically. It's like trying to figure out a code,' he said excitedly. 'It's brilliant, especially if you want to play a joke on someone intelligent.'

'We'll have to remember that when Dad and Uncle Ron finally turn the shop over to us,' Jacob murmured to Fred, who nodded.

Scorpius nudged Lily who had grown bored with the discussion. 'I've got my notes from my first year,' he told her softly. 'You can borrow them, if you want.'

'I don't see why I have to study this rubbish,' Lily snorted. 'It's all goblin wars and ancient laws that don't make sense now.' She shoved the book away a little. 'Dad doesn't use all this, so I shouldn't -' She clamped her mouth shut, eyes darting toward James and Al to see if they'd heard. They hadn't. Lily's career aspirations after she completed her schooling were a closely guarded secret, lest they tease her incessantly over it. She preferred to let them think she wanted to follow Ginny's footsteps and play Quidditch professionally.

'The current laws don't make sense if you don't understand the context in which they were written,' Scorpius pointed out. 'And your dad does use all this, whether you're aware of it or not,' he added, feeling slightly disgruntled.

'But I don't need a N.E.W.T. in it,' argued Lily stubbornly.

'Fine, skive off the class, get a T in it on your O.W.L.,' Scorpius huffed. 'See if I care.'

Lily's mouth dropped open. Scorpius had always treated her with a sort of good-natured tolerance and far more patience than either of her brothers. She stuffed her textbook into her schoolbag and pushed the heavy chair away from the table with a loud scraping noise. 'I think I'm going to go to bed,' she muttered.

'I'll walk you back to the tower,' Scorpius murmured. There had been an unspoken agreement between James, Al, and himself since they found Lily on the Astronomy Tower to not let her wander about the castle alone, if they could avoid it. 'I'll look over your Defense essay when I get back, Sophie, okay?' He followed Lily out of the library, breaking into a run. Lily could walk quite quickly when she wanted to. 'Lily, wait up, damn it!' he hissed.

'I don't need a nursemaid!' Lily shouted. 'I know what the three of you are doing! I can hardly go to the loo between classes without finding one of you lurking outside the bloody door!'

Scorpius grabbed her arm and swung Lily around. 'Don't you know how scared we were when you didn't come back to the tower?' he said heatedly.

'I said I wasn't going to do anything like that again,' Lily reminded him.

'You're bloody well right you won't.' Scorpius began to tow Lily in the direction of the staircase that would take them to the entrance to Gryffindor.

Lily yanked her arm from Scorpius' grasp. 'I'm not a baby,' she muttered.

They walked in silence for several minutes before Scorpius ventured, 'I know Binns is a bore, but you can't just dismiss the entire subject like that.'

Lily merely shrugged. She wasn't about to grace him with a verbal response.

Scorpius sighed and tried another tactic. 'Most of what Binns covers is in The History of Magic and Hogwarts: A History,' he informed Lily. 'If you keep up with the reading, you'll be able to get through the first couple of years. You can pretty much tune Binns out. I'm surprised you haven't thought of this yet...'

Lily's mouth quirked upward, but she still didn't say anything. When they reached the portrait hole, she began to dig through her bag. 'Here.' She held out a bundle to Scorpius. 'It's your cloak. I've been meaning to give it back to you.' She turned to the Fat Lady. 'Barnabas the Barmy,' she said, and the portrait swung open. Lily began to climb through the entrance, but stopped, straddling the ledge. 'And yes, I know, if I read the book, I can keep up with Binns' class. I'm not totally gormless. I was just saying how boring his class was. I don't need a lecture on how important my education is. If I want one, I'll write to Mum.' With that, she swung her other foot inside the entrance and the portrait closed.

Scorpius stood for a moment, trying to think of a good comeback, but he silently conceded that Lily had won, and returned to the library.

xxxxxx

Teddy stood on the shore, squinting in an attempt to make out the hulking structure that was Azkaban. It wasn't visible from the shore through the mist of the North Sea, but Teddy knew it was there, an eddy of silent despair in the swirling seas. He took in a deep breath, steeling himself for the journey, then closed his eyes and turned on the spot.

He reappeared on the rocky shore of the island and stared up at the towering edifice of the prison. It was not nearly as hopelessly desolate as it had been before. At least that's what some of the older Obliviators had told him, their faces paling at the memories that ought to have faded into a shadow. Now, it was guarded by a phalanx of guards who were trained in a cross between the Aurors and Hit Wizards. Their training was punctuated by repeated sessions with a Ministry official trained in Legilimency, as was their working days and nights. Teddy often wondered if it was due more to the fact they mostly came from Slytherin, just to check that the guards weren't covertly aiding or abetting the prisoners.

There weren't very many prisoners anymore. Not since the Ministry quit throwing anyone in Azkaban who so much as sniffled something that sounded like the incantation of a Dark spell. Most of them were serving long-term sentences from the war. A few, like Joel, were actually recent prisoners accused of a legitimate crime.

Teddy warily approached the small door set into the thick wall and laid his hand on the bright blue stone next to it. The door creaked open slowly and Teddy came face-to-face with one of the guards. 'I'm here to see Anderson.' He started to walk through the door, but the guard held up his wand.

'Wait.' He muttered several spells, mistily glowing auras enveloping Teddy. 'Nothin' on him, except his wand,' the guard said aloud. Teddy knew he was speaking to a Dictation Quill. Silently, the guard motioned for Teddy to follow him, and he trailed after the rather menacing-looking wizard to a small room, containing only a table and two chairs. 'Anderson'll be along in a moment. There's anti-Apparition charms in here and don't sit in the chair with its back to the door. It's charmed to bind the person who sits in it.'

'Thanks,' Teddy said quietly. He gingerly approached the chair facing the door and sat down in it carefully. When nothing happened, he settled into it and folded his hands on the table, waiting. Presently, the door opened and Joel shuffled in, his wrists and ankles bound together, then attached to a rope around his waist. He was carelessly guided into the empty chair, which promptly erupted thin black ropes that wrapped tightly around his body.

Teddy watched, seemingly impassive, and waited several long moments before he spoke, his voice dry and scratchy. 'Why did you do it?'