Questions and Answers

little_bird

Story Summary:
What happens when the past collides with the present and threatens to cast the Potters' and Weasleys' lives into disarray...

Chapter 58 - Better Left Unsaid

Posted:
04/09/2011
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1,255


Harry pushed the files across the conference table to Carolina. 'You're the expert here,' he told her. 'How should we proceed with this?'

She examined the names on the files and immediately pushed one aside. 'You can take Callum MacDonald off the list,' she stated. 'He moved to Thailand as soon as he retired.'

'Are you sure?'

'Positive.' Carolina glanced at the abandoned file. 'And he died last week. I just got the notice from his family.'

Harry glanced at Carolina sharply. 'How did he die...?'

'Callum was quite old, Harry,' she replied quietly. 'Nothing nefarious about it.'

'Right.' Harry sighed and crossed the name of Callum MacDonald off his list. 'But that still doesn't answer my question about how to go on with this.'

'What do you think we should do?' Carolina countered.

Harry frowned, drumming the table with his fingers. 'Bring them in on the same day. Around the same time. Different conference rooms. Veritaserum, maybe. Pull their memories, store them... That way we can look at them in a Pensieve later.'

Carolina snorted, a sound quite at odds with her appearance. 'And how do you propose we acquire a Pensieve?'

'I have one,' Harry said carelessly.

Carolina's mouth dropped open. 'Those are beyond rare,' she breathed.

'It belonged to Dumbledore,' Harry said diffidently. 'He left it to me after he died.' Harry shook himself slightly. 'Does that sound like a plan?'

'Sounds like one to me.'

'Brilliant. Next week?'

Carolina flicked her wand in the air in front of them. 'How's the twenty-first?'

Harry nodded. 'Gives me time to coordinate with MLE and the Hit Wizards.'

'Hit Wizards...?' she asked uncertainly.

'They may be retired, Carolina, but they're still fully trained wizards...' Harry sighed. 'Don't forget, one of these blokes tried to kill me last summer,' he reminded her grimly.

'Yes, I remember,' she said dryly. 'I was there...'

'Then you can understand why I don't want to take chances,' Harry responded with equal dryness. 'I'm going to send a squad to each of them, and have them escorted back here, rather than let them come in on their own.'

Carolina tipped her chair back a little. 'Ten years I've worked with you as Heads, and you're still not a very trusting sort, are you?'

Harry gathered the files and pushed his chair back. 'It's not that I don't trust people,' he said. 'But what with human nature being what it is...' He shrugged.

'It's not that you don't trust people, but you don't trust people?' Carolina retorted.

Harry grinned. 'Well, you're not people,' he said over his shoulder as left the room. He jogged lightly to the lifts, earning snickers from the younger Obliviators.

'Got summat to prove, then, old man?' one of them shouted across their large common room.

Harry flashed the young man a cocky smile, twirling his wand between his fingers. 'To you? Nah. But if you want, we can take a turn in the Aurors' training room. Duel a little.'

'Don't do it, Kenny,' one of the others warned. 'He'll wipe the floor with your arse. I've seen him disarm someone with hardly a thought. Bloke didn't know what hit him until Harry put a full Body-Bind on him.'

Harry let his smile grow wider. 'Offer still stands, newbie.' The lift doors slid apart and he slipped into the lift. 'Just let me know,' he called across the room. The doors slid shut and Harry leaned against the wall, chuckling a little. Was I ever that smug? He wondered to himself. 'Probably,' he murmured.

He punched the button for Level Two, the overwhelming urgency of the case seeming to lessen a little for the first time in years. Narcissa Malfoy's visit to him last month curled into his brain and when the lift came to a halt at Level Two, Harry veered down the corridor to the cavernous room where files were kept. He walked between the towering cupboards, his fingers trailing along the dusty surfaces, glancing at the dates on the front in glowing blue numbers. He came to the one labeled "nineteen eighty-one" and tapped it with his wand. 'August,' he murmured. A long drawer shot out of it, and Harry skimmed through the files, some thick with information, and others depressingly thin. He found Gideon and Fabian Prewetts' files and pulled them out. He searched for one labeled "Lavinia Malfoy" but it wasn't there. He frowned and flicked his wand at the files. 'Accio,' he said, but nothing flew into his hand. 'Interesting,' he said to the empty room. 'Wonder what he told people when she wasn't around any more...'

xxxxxx

'Carolina already told me about your plans for next week,' Shacklebolt said from just inside Harry's office door.

'It's not about that,' Harry responded. 'When someone in the Order died or disappeared, what happened?'

'What do you mean, what happened?'

'I mean, did the Order have some sort of record of how members died and hide it somewhere?' Harry demanded.

Kingsley's eyes narrowed. 'Why do you need to know?'

'I've been asked to look into someone's disappearance, and it occurred the same day on Order member was killed. I think they might be linked.'

'Did you check the Ministry files?'

'She's not in there. And she's not in the dead person's file, either. Because I don't think she was ever reported as being missing.'

Kingsley pointed to a nondescript cupboard. 'In there,' he said. 'Remember when you took over as Head?'

'Vaguely.'

'Every cupboard in here is charmed to open only for your wand or mine. And that particular one has a record of every single Order member's death or disappearance.' Kingsley pointed to a cupboard tucked under the window. 'But only the Head Auror and the leader of the Order can open it.'

Harry eyed Kingsley speculatively. 'Can I presume that the leader of the Order is still you?'

'You can.'

'Brilliant. Shall we?' Harry pointed his wand at the cupboard.

'Whose records do you want?'

'Gideon and Fabian Prewett.' If Harry's reply rattled Kingsley, he didn't show it. Instead, he merely pointed his own wand at the cupboard.

'On three... One, two, three...' The cupboard slid smoothly out from the wall, stuffed with files, emitting soft silvery light. 'If there were witnesses, Dumbledore insisted we keep memories with the report.'

Harry leaned over the cupboard. His fingers fanned the files until he came to the one labeled with Gideon and Fabian's names. 'There are six vials in here,' he said. 'There were six witnesses?'

'I don't know,' Shacklebolt said. 'I wasn't in the Order then. I had just finished school when your parents died.'

Harry held up each vial in turn. 'Mad-Eye. Sirius. Remus. Dorcas Meadowes. Frank Longbottom. And...' His fingers convulsed around the small crystal vial. At least I know she survived that long...- he thought. 'Can I remove the file?' he asked tightly.

'Your office. You're technically an Order member. You can remove anything you want.'

'Thanks.' Harry carefully replaced the vials into the file and placed it into his bag. 'I'll have it back by the end of the week.'

xxxxxx

Draco studied the spines of the books in front of him, his hands clasped behind his back. Familiar perfume wafted delicately into his senses. 'Hello, Mother,' he said, without needing to look at the open door behind him.

'Draco.'

'Have you come to lecture me about my continued unwillingness to speak to my son?' he asked idly.

'Not especially.'

'Ah.' Draco's eyes flicked toward his mother. 'Then why are you here, if I may ask?'

'I'm looking for something,' she replied evenly.

'I've gotten rid of most of Father's books,' Draco told her.

'So I see.' Narcissa examined the books in front of them. 'I'm not looking for one of his. He wouldn't have known about this one,' she said.

'If you described it to me or told me the title, perhaps I could help you find it,' Draco offered. 'I've rearranged things.'

'I don't quite remember what it looks like,' Narcissa told him. 'I'll know it when I see it.'

'Very well.' Draco shrugged and returned to his perusal of the shelves. He pulled several volumes about various potion ingredients off the shelves, piling them on a table, then retrieved his old textbook. He knew from Scorpius' book list they were still using --Magical Drafts and Potions through the O.W.L. It hadn't changed much since he'd used it and there weren't many options for textbooks. It was still the best option.

Narcissa frankly stared at him. 'Planning on doing some potion-brewing later?'

'Perhaps.' Draco had actually enjoyed the Potions class at Hogwarts. It was his favorite class, even when Snape taught it. The exacting nature of it appealed to him, especially as his own life spun chaotically out of control. As an adult, Draco had grown somewhat disdainful for Snape's methods. For someone so knowledgeable, he hadn't moved beyond parroting what the textbook said. Draco had heard a rumor that Harry Potter had somehow obtained Snape's copy of -Advanced Potion-Making for the N.E.W.T.-level class, and that it was filled with all sorts of ways to brew Potions better and more efficiently.

'Your aunt Andromeda is quite good,' Narcissa commented, scaling a ladder.

Draco made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat.

'I'm not very skilled at it myself,' Narcissa continued. 'I'm adequate, I suppose, if it's not very difficult.'

Draco merely shrugged and stooped to study the titles on the bottom shelf. He tugged a rather thick book out that looked promising and blew a layer of dust off the cover, frowning. The book felt rather light for its size. He flipped it open to reveal a hollowed-out center filled with a broken wand. 'Mother, what is this?'

Narcissa slowly descended the ladder, her face paper-white. She reached for it, her hands shaking. 'Did your father ever talk about his sister?'

'He didn't have a sister,' Draco corrected.

Narcissa plucked a creased photograph from under the wand. She held it out to Draco. 'Her name was Lavinia,' she said quietly. 'She's been missing since you were a year old.'

'He never talked about her,' Draco said, turning away from Narcissa.

'No. He acted as if she didn't exist after she... left... Removed all traces that she'd ever lived here.'

'What did she do?' Draco snorted. 'Join the Order of the Phoenix?'

'In a manner of speaking,' Narcissa admitted. 'She chose a life of which he did not approve.'

'Did he have her killed or something?' he scoffed.

'I don't know. I just know one morning he told me to never mention her again.'

'What did she do?' Draco repeated, spitting out each word in distaste.

'Fabian Prewett.'

'Who?'

'One of Molly Weasley's brothers,' Narcissa clarified. 'Your father would have just called him a blood-traitor and dispensed with the given name.' She gently closed the book cover over the broken wand. 'She was involved with him for more than a year, then after he was killed, she was... gone... I'm not sure how Lucius found out. Lavinia was most discreet. As was Fabian.'

'Wait...' Draco felt dizzy. He blindly dropped into a chair. 'You're telling me my father might have killed his own sister for that? Why didn't he just disown her?'

Narcissa turned cool grey eyes on her son. 'Do you think a mere disowning would have satisfied your father?'

Draco gulped. 'No. No, I don't.'

xxxxxx

Lily gazed in dismay at the pile of books on the table. She peeped around them at Hugo, who was gaping at them with what she hoped was a similar expression to hers. 'Did you expect to have this much homework?' she breathed.

'I never had this much in Muggle school,' Hugo replied.

'Me, either.'

'Where do we start...?'

'What's due first?' Lily ventured.

'Trentham's homework next class, then Neville's. Gareth's isn't due until next week, and Williams' is after that.'

Lily pulled out a homework planner that Hermione had given her for her birthday. One of the first things Harry had done when he came home from the hospital was remove the charms that made it trill reminders to her. She flipped through the pages until she came to January. 'Wait, Flitwick's is due...' Her finger slid down the color-coded squares. 'Same day as Neville's...' The planner slipped from her fingers.

'What's going on?' Sophie asked cheerfully, tipping a pile of books next to Lily and Hugo's.

'Lily got an 'Acceptable' on a Transfiguration quiz today,' Hugo told her.

'That's not so bad,' Sophie said. 'It's pretty good. Mum tells me Trentham is much harder than McGonagall was.'

'But I need to get at least an Exceeds Expectations on my O.W.L.s,' Lily argued.

'Why?' Madeline asked, sliding into the seat next to Hugo, bringing the scent of the winter evening with her. 'D'you want to be a Healer or something?'

'No,' Lily muttered, opening her Transfiguration textbook. 'St. Mungo's makes me queasy.'

'Better get used to it,' Hugo shot at her in an undertone.

'Shut. Up,' she hissed.

Al trotted into the library, dropping his bag in a chair, hair damp with sweat from Quidditch practice, swiping the sleeve of his sweatshirt over his face. 'Anyone seen Scorpius? We were supposed to work on our Potions homework together.

'He's back in the history section,' Rose sighed, as she flipped the end of her plait over her shoulder. She sniffed the front of her own sweatshirt cautiously. 'Ugh. I need a bath.' She turned her head toward Hugo and began to sniff the top of his head delicately. 'No, that's you. When was the last time you washed your hair?'

'Yesterday,' Hugo ground out. 'I do wash myself every day, Rosie,' he huffed. 'It's not me. Al needs to change his socks.'

'But these are my lucky socks,' Al said in a stricken whisper.

'Lucky socks that need to find some laundry soap,' Lily snickered. 'If you wear those during a game, no wonder you can find a Snitch so quickly. The other Seeker won't go near you.'

'Oh, ha-ha-ha... Lee Jordan's between jobs and everyone wants to be a comedian.' Al surreptitiously took his wand out and shot a quick Scouring charm at his feet. The musty smell lessened considerably, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Scorpius let a book fall to the table. The resulting thump made everyone look up. 'A little light reading?' Isabella asked, opening her Herbology book.

'Or are you having trouble sleeping?' Nicholas scoffed. 'That'd put Alex out in two seconds.'

'Put you to sleep in one,' Alexander retorted, nudging his twin in the ribs.

'It's just something I've been wanting to read,' Scorpius said, pushing the book into his schoolbag. 'We're doing a Shrinking Solution in class tomorrow, aren't we?' he said, pointedly steering the subject away from his reading habits. If he thought the topic had been forgotten, he was wrong. He came out of the bathroom in his dormitory to find Al perched on the foot of his bed, hair still wet from a shower, smelling strongly of soap. 'I believe you're on the wrong bed,' Scorpius told Al, as he stowed his toothbrush in the cupboard next to his bed.

Al held up the book Scorpius had left in the middle of his bed. 'The War Against the Dark Lord?' he drawled.

Scorpius snatched the book from Al's hands. 'James read it,' he blurted defensively. 'Last year.'

'So that means you have to read it?' Al countered.

'Look, my family doesn't really talk about things from then. Last Christmas, I get ambushed by Lily and something my grandfather did to your mum, and I knew nothing about it. I had to ask Teddy about it. My father's on probation for the rest of his life and I don't know why! I overheard my grandmother talking to Andromeda after our first year and she talked about all the hoops she had to jump through just because Grandfather died. I know both my grandfather and father did terrible things. I really just want someone in my family to tell me exactly what they did and why, and since I don't see that happening any time soon...' He gestured to the book on his knees. 'I'll have to read about it.'

'You could ask my dad...' Al began.

Scorpius began to laugh. 'But that's the thing, Al. I don't want to ask your mother or father. I don't want to ask Andromeda or Teddy. And Grandmother's already told me as much as I think she knows or is willing to say. And Mother wasn't even part of Father's orbit when they were in school...' He put the heavy book on the night table and pulled the edge of the quilt back. 'I'm going to bed now...'

'Scorpius...'

Scorpius reached for the heavy curtains that he rarely pulled around his bed. 'I don't want to talk about it anymore.'

Al slid off the bed and trudged to his own, wondering what good came of trying to find out everything they could about their parents' pasts.

xxxxxx

Draco lay in bed staring at the slowly brightening ceiling. He hadn't slept at all. Any illusions he had about his father had been shattered years ago, but the revelation he could have arranged his own sister's death sent spasms of revulsion through him. He curled on his side, his stomach cramping as he fought to refrain from vomiting over the edge of his bed. Even if Lucius hadn't actually held the wand to her head, he'd made it extremely difficult for her to survive on her own. And in the unlikely event that she had, Draco couldn't help but wonder what kind of life she'd managed to live.

Unable to go back to sleep, he wearily shoved the bedding aside and put his feet gingerly on the floor, feeling as if he had a hangover. -He pushed himself to his feet and shuffled to the en-suite bathroom, shedding his pajamas in a trail behind him, hoping a hot shower would force some semblance of consciousness into his brain. He leaned against the marble wall, letting the water stream over his head. Draco heavily reached for the face cloth and soap, and performed a sketchy ablution, too exhausted to care that he had probably missed more of his body than he'd washed. Even the sight of more hair in the drain failed to upset him this morning.

He toweled off, and pulled on the first clothes that came to his hand in the wardrobe, using his wand to fasten them. He normally didn't employ such profligate uses of magic to dress himself, but Draco didn't feel as if he could manage without it. He dragged himself down the stairs and fell into his chair at the table, shakily pouring himself a cup of tea. He didn't really want it, but he welcomed the warmth of the cup as he cradled it in his hands, inhaling the steam. His eyes drifted shut in as much bliss as he could manage at the moment.

'You look awful,' Daphne said when she walked into the dining room, her head tilted to the side, as she fastened an earring into an ear.

'If it's anything like I feel, then I must look a fright,' he mumbled.

Daphne tilted his chin up with one finger. Heavy shadows smudged the skin under Draco's eyes and he was paler than usual. One hand rested briefly against his forehead. 'You're ill,' she said, almost accusingly.

'I didn't sleep well last night,' Draco sighed.

Daphne's fair brows drew together and she leaned closer, her thumb brushing over something on his face. 'Did you have dragon pox as a child?' she asked.

'No...'

'Well, the cat's among the pixies now,' Daphne said, resignedly.

Draco opened heavy-lidded eyes. 'I'm f -' he began. To his horror, he threw up on Daphne's neat jumper. 'S-s-s-sorry,' he choked.

Daphne stood frozen, her arms held away from her body, eyeing the splotch of sick that dripped to the toes of her shoes. 'It's all right,' she soothed, pulling her wand from her trouser pocket and waved it over her jumper. It vanished and Daphne stowed her wand back into her pocket. She bent and helped Draco to his feet. 'Back to bed with you.'

'I don't need to go back to bed,' Draco huffed stubbornly.

'Yes, you do.' Daphne steered him gently to the stairs and guided him, not into his bedroom, but hers. It was closer, and she was beginning to stagger under his weight. She eased him to the edge of her unmade bed and swung his feet to the mattress, jabbing her wand at his shoes. They flew off his feet and landed next to her wardrobe, side by side. 'Lie down,' she ordered. It was a sign of how bad Draco felt that he didn't argue with her and all but melted into the pillows. Daphne drew the bedding over him, and let her hand rest against his forehead once more. 'I'll bring you a potion for your fever in a moment,' she said. 'You're going to be just fine,' she said with more confidence she felt. While dragon pox was routine in small children, it was dangerous, sometimes even fatal in adults.

And while Daphne Greengrass Malfoy didn't know if she wanted to remain married to her husband, she definitely didn't want him to die. At least not yet.