The reckoning had been put off one more night.
Aftermath, Draco Malfoy:
Draco straightened his robes, making sure the green trim was straight. He waved his wand over his own head and said a Charm that Father had taught him while other children were still playing in mud, a Charm which ensured that not a single speck of lint or dust would dirty his wizard's robes.
Draco picked up the mysterious envelope that Father had owled him, and tucked it into his robes. He had already used Incendio and Everto on the mysterious note.
And then he headed off to breakfast, to seat himself on exactly the same tick of the clock where the food appeared, if he could manage it, so that it would seem like all others had been waiting on his appearance to eat. Because when you were the scion of Malfoy you were first in everything, including breakfast, that was why.
Vincent and Gregory were waiting for him outside the door of his private room, up even before he was - though not, of course, dressed quite as sharply.
The Slytherin common room was deserted, anyone who got up this early was heading straight to breakfast anyway.
The dungeon halls were silent but for their own footsteps, empty and echoing.
The Great Hall was a hubbub of alarm despite the relative few arrivals, some younger children crying, students running back and forth between tables or standing in knots shouting at each other, a red-robed prefect was standing in front of two green-trimmed students and yelling at them and Snape was striding toward the mess -
The noise dimmed a little as people caught sight of Draco, as some of the faces turned to stare at him, and fell quiet.
The food appeared on the tables. No one looked at it.
And Snape spun on his heel, abandoning his target, and headed straight toward Draco.
A knot of fear clutched at Draco's heart, had something happened to Father - no, surely Father would have told him - whatever was happening, why hadn't Father told him -
There were bags of fatigue beneath Snape's eyes, Draco saw as their Head of House came close, the Potions Master had never been a sharp dresser (that was an understatement) but his robes were even dirtier and more disarrayed this morning, spotted with extra grease.
"You haven't heard?" hissed their Head of House as he came close. "For pity's sake, Malfoy, don't you have a newspaper delivered?"
"What is it, Profe-"
"Bellatrix Black was taken from Azkaban!"
"What?" said Draco in shock, as Gregory behind him said something he really shouldn't have and Vincent just gasped.
Snape was gazing at him with narrowed eyes, then nodded abruptly. "Lucius told you nothing, then. I see." Snape gave a snort, turned away -
"Professor!" said Draco. The implications were just starting to dawn on him, his mind spinning frantically. "Professor, what should I do - Father didn't instruct me -"
"Then I suggest," Snape said sneeringly, as he strode away, "that you tell them that, Malfoy, as your father intended!"
Draco glanced back at Vincent and Gregory, though he didn't know why he was bothering, of course they looked even more confused than he did.
And Draco walked forward to the Slytherin table, and sat down at the far end, which was still empty of sitters.
Draco put a sausage omelet on his plate, began eating it with automatic motions.
Bellatrix Black had been taken from Azkaban.
Bellatrix Black had been taken from Azkaban...?
Draco didn't know what to make of that, it was as totally unexpected as the Sun going out - well, the Sun would expectedly go out in six billion years but this was as unexpected as the Sun going out tomorrow. Father wouldn't have done it, Dumbledore wouldn't have done it, no one should have been able to do it - what did it mean - what use would Bellatrix be to anyone after ten years in Azkaban - even if she got strong again, what use was a powerful sorceress who was completely evil and insane and fanatically devoted to a Dark Lord who wasn't around anymore?
"Hey," said Vincent from where he was sitting next to Draco, "I don't understand, boss, why'd we do that?"
"We didn't do it, you dolt!" snapped Draco. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, if even you think we - didn't your father ever tell you any stories about Bellatrix Black? She tortured Father once, she tortured your father, she's tortured everyone, the Dark Lord once told her to Crucio herself and she did it! She didn't do crazy things to inspire fear and obedience in the populace, she did crazy things because she's crazy! She's a bitch is what she is!"
"Oh, really?" said an incensed voice from behind Draco.
Draco didn't look up. Gregory and Vincent would be watching his back.
"I would've thought you'd be happy -"
"- to hear that a Death Eater had been freed, Malfoy!"
Amycus Carrow had always been one of the other problem people; Father had once told Draco to make sure he was never alone in the same room with Amycus...
Draco turned around and gave Flora and Hestia Carrow his Number Three Sneer, the one that said that he was in a Noble and Most Ancient House and they weren't and yes, that mattered. Draco said in their general direction, certainly not deigning to address them in particular, "There's Death Eaters and then there's Death Eaters," and then turned back to his food.
There were two furious huffs in unison, and then two pairs of shoes stormed off toward the other end of the Slytherin table.
It was a few minutes later that Millicent Bulstrode ran up to them, visibly out of breath, and said, "Mr. Malfoy, did you hear?"
"About Bellatrix Black?" said Draco. "Yeah -"
"No, about Potter!"
"What?"
"Potter was going around with a phoenix on his shoulder last night, looking like he'd been dragged through ten leagues of mud, they say that the phoenix took him to Azkaban to try to stop Bellatrix and he fought a duel with her and they blew up half the fortress!"
"What?" said Draco. "Oh, there is just no way that -"
Draco stopped.
He'd said that a number of times about Harry Potter and had started to notice a trend.
Millicent ran off to tell someone else.
"You don't really think -" said Gregory.
"I honestly don't know anymore," said Draco.
A few minutes later, after Theodore Nott had sat down across from him and William Rosier had gone to sit with the Carrow twins, Vincent nudged him and said, "There."
Harry Potter had entered the Great Hall.
Draco watched him closely.
There was no alarm on Harry's face as he saw, no surprise or shock, he just looked...
It was the same distant, self-absorbed look Harry wore when he was trying to figure out the answer to a question Draco couldn't understand yet.
Draco hastily shoved himself up from the bench of the Slytherin table, saying "Stay behind," and walked with all decorous speed toward Harry.
Harry seemed to notice his approach just as the other boy was turning toward the Ravenclaw table, and Draco -
- gave Harry one quick look -
- and then walked right past him, straight out of the Great Hall.
It was a minute later that Harry peered around the corner of the small stony nook where Draco had waited, it might not fool everyone but it would create plausible deniability.
"Quietus," said Harry. "Draco, what -"
Draco took the envelope out of his robes. "I have a message for you from Father."
"Huh?" said Harry, and took the envelope from Draco, and tore it open in a rather un-neat manner, and drew forth a sheet of parchment and unfolded it and -
Harry gave a sharp intake of breath.
Then Harry looked at Draco.
Then Harry looked back down at the parchment.
There was a pause.
Harry said, "Did Lucius tell you to report on my reaction to this?"
Draco paused for a moment, weighing, and then opened his mouth -
"I see he did," said Harry, and Draco cursed himself, he should've known better, only it h
ad been hard to decide. "What are you going to tell him?"
"That you were surprised," said Draco.
"Surprised," Harry said flatly. "Yeah. Good. Tell him that."
"What is it?" said Draco. And then, as he saw Harry looking conflicted, "If you're dealing with Father behind my back -"
And Harry, without a word, gave Draco the paper.
It said:
I know it was you.
"WHAT THE -"
"I was going to ask you that," said Harry. "Have you got any idea what's up with your Dad?"
Draco stared at Harry.
Then Draco said, "Did you do it?"
"What?" said Harry. "What possible reason would I - how would I -"
"Did you do it, Harry?"
"No!" Harry said. "Of course not!"
Draco had listened carefully, but he hadn't detected any hesitation or tremor.
So Draco nodded, and said, "I've got no idea what Father's thinking but it can't, I mean it can't possibly be good. And, um... people are also saying..."
"What," said Harry warily, "are they saying, Draco?"
"Did a phoenix really take you to Azkaban to try to stop Bellatrix Black from escaping -"
Aftermath: Neville Longbottom
Harry had only just sat down at the Ravenclaw table for the first time, hoping to grab a quick bite of food. He knew he needed to go off and think about things, but there was a tiny remaining bit of phoenix's peace (even after the encounter with Draco) that he still wanted to cling to, some beautiful dream of which he remembered nothing but the beauty; and the part of him that wasn't feeling peaceful was waiting for all the anvils to finish dropping on him, so that when he went off to think and be by himself for a while, he could batch-process all the disasters at once.
Harry's hand grasped a fork, lifted a bite of mashed potatoes toward his mouth -
And there was a shriek.
Every now and then someone would shout when they heard the news, but Harry's ears recognized this one -
Harry was up from the bench in an instant, heading toward the Hufflepuff table, a horrible sick feeling dawning in the pit of his stomach. It was one of those things he hadn't considered when he'd decided to commit the crime, because Professor Quirrell had planned for no one to know; and now, afterward, Harry just - hadn't thought of it -
This, Hufflepuff said with bitter intensity, is also your fault.
But by the time Harry got there, Neville was sitting down and eating fried sausage patties with Snippyfig Sauce.
The Hufflepuff boy's hands were trembling, but he cut the food, and ate it, without dropping it.
"Hello, General," Neville said, his voice wavering only slightly. "Did you fight a duel with Bellatrix Black last night?"
"No," Harry said. His own voice was also wavery, for some reason.
"Didn't think so," said Neville. There was a scraping sound as his knife cut the sausage again. "I'm going to hunt her down and kill her, can I count on you to help?"
There were startled gasps from the mass of Hufflepuffs who had gathered around Neville.
"If she comes after you," Harry said hoarsely, if it was all a terrible mistake, if it was all a lie, "I'll defend you even with my life," won't let you get hurt for what I did, no matter what, "but I won't help you go after her, Neville, friends don't help friends commit suicide."
Neville's fork paused on the way to his mouth.
Then Neville put the bite of food in his mouth, chewed again.
And Neville swallowed it.
And Neville said, "I didn't mean right now, I mean after I graduate Hogwarts."
"Neville," Harry said, keeping his voice under very careful control, "I think, even after you graduate, that might still be a just plain stupid idea. There's got to be much more experienced Aurors tracking her -" oh, wait, that's not good -
"Listen to him!" said Ernie Macmillan, and then an older-looking Hufflepuff girl standing close to Neville said, "Nevvy, please, think about it, he's right!"
Neville stood up.
Neville said, "Please don't follow me."
Neville walked away from all of them; Harry and Ernie reaching out involuntarily toward him, and some of the other Hufflepuffs as well.
And Neville sat down at the Gryffindor table, and distantly (though they had to strain to hear) they heard Neville say, "I'm going to hunt her down and kill her after I graduate, anyone want to help?" and at least five voices said "Yes" and then Ron Weasley said loudly, "Get in line, you lot, I got an owl from Mum this morning, she says to tell everyone she's called dibs" and someone said "Molly Weasley against Bellatrix Black? Who does she even think she's kidding -" and Ron reached over to a plate and hefted a muffin -
Someone tapped Harry on the shoulder, and he turned around and saw an unfamiliar green-trimmed older girl, who handed him a parchment envelope and then quickly strode away.
Harry stared at the envelope for a moment, then started walking toward the nearest wall. That wasn't very private, but it should be private enough, and Harry didn't want to give the impression of having much to hide.
That had been a Slytherin System delivery, what you used if you wanted to communicate with someone without anyone else knowing that the two of you had talked. The sender gave an envelope to someone who had a reputation for being a reliable messenger, along with ten Knuts; that first person would take five Knuts and pass the envelope to another messenger along with the other five Knuts, and the second messenger would open up that envelope and find another envelope with a name written on it and deliver that envelope to that person. That way neither of the two people passing the message knew both the sender and the recipient, so no one else knew that those two parties had been in contact...
When Harry reached the wall, he put the envelope inside his robes, opened it beneath the folds of cloth, and carefully snuck a peek at the parchment he drew forth.
It said,
Classroom to the left of Transfiguration, 8 in the morning.
- LL.
Harry stared at it, trying to remember if he knew anyone with the initials LL.
His mind searched...
Searched...
Retrieved -
"The Quibbler girl?" Harry whispered incredulously, and then shut his mouth. She was only ten years old, she shouldn't be in Hogwarts at all!
Aftermath: Lesath Lestrange.
Harry was standing in the unused classroom next to Transfiguration at 8AM, waiting, he'd at least managed to get some food into himself before facing the next disaster, Luna Lovegood...
The door to the classroom opened, and Harry saw, and gave himself a really hard mental kick.
One more thing he hadn't thought of, one more thing he really should have.
The older boy's green-trimmed formal robes were askew, there were red spots on them looking very much like small dots of fresh blood, and one corner of his mouth had the look of a place that had been cut and healed, by Episkey or some other minor medical Charm that didn't quite erase all the damage.
Lesath Lestrange's face was streaked with tears, fresh tears and half-dried tears, and there was water in his eyes, a promise of still more on the way. "Quietus," said the older boy, and then "Homenum Revelio" and some other things, while Harry thought frantically and without much luck.
And then Lesath lowered his wand and sheathed it in his robes, and slowly this time, formally, the older boy dropped to his knees on the dusty classroom floor.
Bowed his head all the way down, until his forehead also touched the dust, and Harry would have spoken but he was voiceless.
Lesath Lestrange said, in a breaking voice, "My life is yours, my Lord, and my death as well."
"I," Harry said, there was a huge lump in his throat and he was having trouble speaking, "I -" didn't have anything to do with it, he should have been saying, should be saying right now, but then again the innocent Harry would have had trouble speaking too -
"Thank you," whispered Lesath, "thank you, my Lord, oh, thank you," t
he sound of a choked-off sob came from the kneeling boy, all Harry could see of him was the hair on the back of his head, nothing of his face. "I'm a fool, my Lord, an ungrateful bastard, unworthy to serve you, I cannot abase myself enough, for I - I shouted at you after you helped me, because I thought you were refusing me, and I didn't even realize until this morning that I'd been such a fool as to ask you in front of Longbottom -"
"I didn't have anything to do with it," Harry said.
(It was still very hard to tell an outright lie like that.)
Slowly Lesath raised his head from the floor, looked up at Harry.
"I understand, my Lord," said the older boy, his voice wavering a little, "you do not trust my cunning, and indeed I have shown myself a fool... I only wanted to say to you, that I am not ungrateful, that I know it must have been hard enough to save only one person, that they're alerted now, that you can't - get Father - but I am not ungrateful, I will never be ungrateful to you again. If ever you have a use for this unworthy servant, call me wherever I am, and I will answer, my Lord -"
"I was not involved in any way."
(But it got easier each time.)
Lesath gazed up at Harry, said uncertainly, "Am I dismissed from your presence, my Lord...?"
"I am not your Lord."
Lesath said, "Yes, my Lord, I understand," and pushed himself back up from the floor, stood straight and bowed deeply, then backed away from Harry until he turned to open the classroom door.
As Lesath's hand touched the doorknob, he paused.
Harry couldn't see Lesath's face, as the older boy's voice said, "Did you send her to someone who would take care of her? Did she ask about me at all?"
And Harry said, his voice perfectly level, "Please stop that. I was not involved in any way."
"Yes, my Lord, I'm sorry, my Lord," said Lesath's voice; and the Slytherin boy opened the door and went out and shut the door behind him. His feet sped up as he ran away, but not fast enough that Harry couldn't hear him start sobbing.
Would I cry? wondered Harry. If I knew nothing, if I was innocent, would I cry right now?
Harry didn't know, so he just kept looking at the door.
And some unbelievably tactless part of him thought, Yay, we completed a quest and got a minion -
Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality Page 100