223Fleur slumped down into the chair and let out a heavy sigh. Whenever this frenzy after the war was over, she was going to sleep for a whole day straight!
If it was just the operation that had ended the war, things would have been so much easier. Instead, because over half of the Ministry's forces were in the overwhelmed St Mungo's, the short-handed Order had been tasked with helping.
"I'm never going to complain about being left out of Order operations again," Iris said, flopping onto the couch, face down.
Resting her head back on the chair, Fleur cracked an eye open and giggled. "At least Kingsley promised we'd all get paid for this," she said. "Maybe we'll make enough to go somewhere warm for a few weeks. Hot sunny days, warm sandy beaches, and nothing to do but relax, tan and sleep."
"That sounds lovely," Iris said, her voice muffled.
Fleur shut her eyes once more and let her tiredness overtake her.
But just as she was falling asleep, Iris' voice kept her up. "Where are we onto next?"
"The hospital wing," she replied before adding, "Hogwarts." Malfoy Manor had a 'hospital wing' now as well, for those that had less serious ailments but were not fit to go home or help out.
Iris groaned.
Beyond the lack of manpower, the Ministry was in chaos. Bones was in critical condition and Scrimgeour had died in the operation, leaving Kingsley as the de facto authority in the Ministry. And between the chaos and level of destruction on the battlefield, they didn't know if any of the Death Eaters had escaped or not.
Recalling the attacks on the Longbottoms' and Diagon Alley after Voldemort's first defeat, they weren't leaving anywhere critical without defense.
As much as getting through unscathed was a blessing, Fleur would almost prefer to be in Tonks' predicament. Injured too heavily to be useful, yet still expected to make a full recovery within a week or so.
"In how long?"
Huffing out a breath, Fleur checked the time. "Five minutes."
"We get to sleep after this, right?"
Fleur nodded as she stood.
After a quick floo trip, they made their way up to the hospital wing. As soon as they arrived, they were beckoned inside.
Fleur could barely believe how busy it was.
Beyond Pomfrey, there looked to be three other healers attending patients. Every bed was occupied and it looked as though the total capacity had been tripled!
"Good, you're here," Pomfrey said, bustling right up to them. She took them both by the elbow and led them past the beds into her office, where Lily was already waiting.
"Where are the others?" she demanded, looking at Lily. "I told you this was of the utmost importance."
Lily rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Kingsley is the Interim Minister. He can't just be called away," she said. "And neither can James. Sirius is goin–"
"I don't care," she said, putting her hands on her hips, "Nothing, and I mean nothing, takes precedence over this."
"Then show us what this is, and I'll brief the rest."
"They should be here," the matron said as she turned on her heel and exited the room.
Fleur followed Lily and Iris out of the hospital wing, down to the second floor. As she led them into the women's lavatory, Lily broke the silence.
"Albus closed this," she stated. "I know he did."
Apparently ignoring Lily, Madam Pomfrey went to the closest sink. She took out her wand and tapped it against the faucet. "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."
Fleur watched as the sink and pillar behind it shimmered and split open, revealing an old, grungy pipe. One large enough to stand in.
"Only two of us are able to open this since Albus passed," she said, turning to Lily. "And I'm the only one available to do so right now. Follow me down."
Madam Pomfrey strode into the pipe but turned when Fleur couldn't help but ask, "Who is the other?"
She paused, looked around, and then shook her head. "Not here," she said, before heading down the pipe.
The three of them exchanged an uneasy look, but neither hesitated to follow, leaving Fleur to go down last.
Her trip down the pipe was a little uncomfortable but otherwise Matron was already hurrying down the stone tunnel when Fleur landed, and she quickly followed after her towards a large circular door with intertwined snakes adorning it
"There are things you need to understand before we go further," Pomfrey said, taking them by surprise and conjuring a chair to sit on, as if this was a natural spot to rest.
The three of them followed suit, with Fleur creating a nice soft leather armchair. Pulling her knees up, she tucked her feet against the opposite arm.
"As you all know, Draco Malfoy was not the spy," she said. "He was just one in a long line of unwilling informants that were forced into it."
This was something Fleur had already had on the periphery of her thoughts. She'd never been convinced that Draco had been acting of his own free will; and yet, there hadn't been a single sign of him being an Imperius victim.
"Albus Dumbledore was known for a great many things," she began, "but there was one branch of magic that was his specialty. Did Harry ever tell you?"
"Alchemy?" Lily asked. "He'd mentioned how much Albus had learned from working with Flamel."
The Matron shook her head.
"Transfiguration?"
Pomfrey gave Iris a kind smile. "No," she said. "Though perhaps it was his second best field."
Fleur frowned, trying to think back to what Harry had talked about regarding his days with Dumbledore. "Enchanting?"
She didn't recall many discussions involving it, but it was where Harry's interest had lain.
"Albus was adept at that field, too…but no," she said, turning her chin side to side."It was the Mind Arts."
Fleur furrowed her eyebrows and saw matching looks of confusion on the two Potters.
"And Harry was far better."
"Okay…" Lily said. "But what does that have to do with being here?" She gestured around her.
Pomfrey reached over and put a hand on Lily's knee. "Patience," she said. "You need to understand the backstory before we get to our purpose here."
Patience. As if the wizarding world wasn't going through major changes and turmoil; as if pulling the three of them away from their duties for story time in the Chamber of Secrets was a reasonable thing.
"Did any of you ever greet Albus, look him in the eye, and have the distinct feeling that he was looking right through you, searching, examining you in ways that weren't even possible?" she asked, lowering his head with a raised eyebrow.
Biting her lip, Fleur nodded, recalling those piercing blue eyes and that not-so-subtle twinkle.
"The truth is, he was," she said.
A shiver went down Fleur's spine.
"But what about those of us who are strong Occlumens?" Lily asked, her eyes narrowed. "I would have felt something."
Pomfrey let out a hollow laugh. "I thought so, too."
"But why does it even matter?" Iris asked, throwing up her hands. "What does this have to do with Draco and Harry?"
Leaning forward in her seat, Pomfrey answered. "Everything."
The thought terrified Fleur; that kind of ability wasn't possible, surely.
"It made Harry the perfect spy," she continued. "He could pick up the secrets, the plans, and all the things he shouldn't know–couldn't know–from others."
Fleur's hand came up to cover her mouth. "So, he could frame loyal Death Eaters?"
The discord, fear and mistrust he could sow within Voldemort's followers… within their ranks… was incalculable.
"Well, couldn't he still be caught?" Iris asked, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "He would still have to pass the information on somehow, or meet with you." Then she tilted her head and said, "Or did he meet with you at all?"
"Harry didn't meet with me," she said. "He didn't write anything down, nor tell any intermediaries directly. He had a novel method… One that was undetectable."
"Then how?" The question came from Iris but it was on Fleur's lips as well.
"He was better than Albus," she repeated.
"But you…can't communicate with legilimency over long distances," Iris said, her lips parted and face cutely scrunched.
Pomfrey sat back and then nodded, more to herself than anyone else, Fleur thought.
"It was never one person," she said, looking off. "Sometimes it was a student coming to the infirmary after a Hogsmeade visit. Other times it was Order members, coming in and saying things."
"Wait, wait," Lily interjected. "Harry used Legilimency to pass you information through other people?"
As far as Fleur understood, messages could be passed, so long as two accomplished Legilimens were looking at each other. But through an intermediary? How? And who would have cooperated with Harry and kept silent about it?
"Sometimes," Pomfrey responded, bobbing her head left and right. "But other times it would be an owl, or even floo calls. It varied, though I suspect the method was chosen purposefully by Harry."
Fleur found herself agreeing with that. He always acted with purpose.
"Were they sworn to silence?"
'Because how else would they not have found out?' went unasked by Lily.
"No," Pomfrey said. "They did it, unknowingly…unwillingly even."
"That's impossible," Fleur said, saying what the other two were thinking.
Pomfrey gave them a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "As impossible as Harry murdering Albus and becoming as reviled as You-Know-Who?"
As if that hadn't driven the knife deep enough, she pushed it in further. "As impossible as enchanting Loki's Anguish?"
Fleur whipped her head around to look at Lily. "But—"
"As impossible as hitting your sister with a killing curse and her surviving," Iris added, her face ashen.
Fleur scowled.
It wasn't that Harry wasn't a prodigy of magic, or that he'd created a new technique in another field of magic. It was that it felt like they were whitewashing everything, in their hope, and desperation, for their brother, son, to not be…evil.
"I'm just a healer," Pomfrey said. "All I know is that people would come up to me, pass on a message, and then go on about their day, as if they hadn't done it."
Sucking in a sharp breath, Lily's hands clasped her mouth, and she sat back into the chair heavily. "He programmed people," she said, her eyes growing wide. "He gave them subliminal instructions to follow. Or, in an extreme case, he reprogrammed them, made them…made them like Draco."
If what Lily was saying was correct, the gruesome and puzzling fate of the youngest Malfoy finally made sense.
"While the Dark Lord was still alive, I was bound by an Unbreakable Vow to not divulge Harry's identity as my spy," she said, her eyes shutting. "And Albus gave him an impossible task. One that made winning the war possible in the first place."
Fleur realized too late that her fingernails were now digging into the soft leather, almost puncturing it.
"He was always working to win the war?" Lily asked, leaning forward. "For the Order?"
Her hope was palpable, and it disgusted Fleur. Harry wasn't a martyr or victim. He was murdering scum that burnt people alive.
A quick nod came from Pomfrey. "Always."
Standing, Fleur felt the familiar sensation pool within her. "You're telling me that killing my family, and countless others, was working to win the war?"
The matron held her gaze without flinching. "Yes."
"How does killing my sister help? How does murdering a helpless little girl help?"
She hadn't realized she'd stood up until Iris wrapped her up in a hug.
"Harry won't get a free pass," Lily said, her green eyes filled with warring emotions. "Whatever good he's done will be weighed against all those he's killed."
Fleur flicked her hair over her shoulder after Iris let her go and sat back down, her lips pressed together.
"We'll see," the matron muttered.
After a moment of silence, Pomfrey walked over to where an ornate stone bowl sat on the floor, one that Fleur hadn't noticed before. She picked it up and carried it back, conjured a small table for it, and then placed it in the middle.
"I believe James and a Ministry representative should be here, but you can take this with you after you deal with the consequences of all this."
"That's a pensieve," Lily said.
"And Harry's last message to me was to bring you all down here," she said. "There is something for all of us to see."
The three of them exchanged glances, a myriad of emotions flashing across their faces.
"I'm going in," Iris said, her arms crossed.
"I'll send a message to your father. He can watch if he gets here after we're done, or join us in there." Lily withdrew a small notepad, wrote a message and then stepped forward between Pomfrey and her daughter.
"Are you joining us?"
Fleur looked at them and though her mouth opened, she didn't respond.
Did she want to hear from Harry? Did she want to give him the opportunity of humanizing his monstrous actions?
Could she handle it if he had a way of making the murder of her family necessary?
"I don't–"
As she went to say no, Fleur wondered if she could just walk away from this, not sate her curiosity?
"We'll go in, join us if you'd like."
With that said, she dipped her hand in and disappeared. Iris gave her a faint smile and then went in herself.
Pomfrey stared at the bowl, her finger less than an inch from joining the others. "Harry loved you," she said. "Loved you and your family."
She never looked up, she simply spoke and then entered the pensieve.
Sighing, Fleur moved forward and joined them. She knew she would give in and have to know.
As she fell into the memory, Fleur noted it was already playing.
"Let me tell you a story. A story of a young man, of naivety and betrayal; of a Dark Lord and his heir apparent," Harry said, sitting behind an unfamiliar desk in a study she didn't recognize. "Let me tell you of a boy who thought himself a man, one that didn't know that true evil hid behind the veneer of honeyed words and cowardice."
Harry's hands came up to his face and he slowly rubbed them up and down.
"On the first day of my apprenticeship, I had to swear two vows. I had to swear to not pass on proprietary magical techniques and to protect the secrets of Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards."
He dropped his hand and it seemed like the memory-Harry was looking them in the eye.
"But it wasn't the secrets of his many positions that worried him," he said, almost smirking. "It was his own."
Fleur looked around at the others: Lily, Pomfrey, Iris. None of them appeared to have any idea of what he was talking about either.
"When I accepted the apprenticeship, I thought I would be getting a heavy dose of Transfiguration, a good portion of Alchemy training, and a smattering of everything else," he said with a shake of his head. "I had wanted to focus on enchanting, but Albus had little time to work with me and all our time was spent on the Mind Arts."
At this point, Harry stood up, clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace back and forth.
"Pomfrey can tell you about his capabilities," he said, looking down at his feet as he walked past the desk. "The only reason she knows is because there is a cost to one of the techniques, something Dumbledore failed to mention to me."
He stopped moving and turned to them. "Imagine being in my shoes. You are in the most coveted apprenticeship in Wizarding Europe and your master is too busy stealing the secrets of others to bother training you," he said. "And given who I was learning under, I felt he was testing me. Starting with the mundane and warning me to prove myself. So I did as he asked and worked in my spare time to advance my own magical capabilities."
Pausing, Harry lifted his hand, held it out, watched it carefully, and then he let it drop.
"Oh, don't get me wrong," he said. "Albus was brilliant and when he spared a moment to teach, he helped me progress far faster than I could have ever managed on my own. Just his personal library was a treasure trove of knowledge."
As Fleur took in his words, she kept staring at Harry's hand. The break seemed to be out of character; everything Harry did had a purpose, so what was it this time?
"It was those short moments where he indulged my magical pursuits that kept me interested and craving more. The Occlumency and Legilimency training progressed well, but that wasn't my focus."
Harry's lowered jaw clenched. He turned on his heel and then sat. "Dumbledore was a master manipulator. The master manipulator. And he had unprecedented access to understand what made a person tick," he said, before running his hand up his face and rubbing at his hairline. "He kept me motivated to always be studying the mind arts by gatekeeping magical knowledge and linking his long-term goals for me with emotional blackmail."
He plopped his elbows down on the desk and folded one hand over the other in front of him, looking toward them all.
"He understood that the attack on our household, the murder of our family members and constant targeting of my little sister drove me to become more than average," he said, his eyes dull and tone flat. "He took a seventeen-year-old that looked up to him as a hero and ensured I was prepared to become the spy that the Light so badly needed."
At this point, Harry looked away, staring at the far side of the room where the two walls and the roof met for a few moments.
"It wasn't until near the end of my time with him that I learned the truth about his plans for me," he said, huffing out a breath as he minutely shook his head. "Albus would never have taken an apprentice, he would never have allowed his secrets to be passed on if he wasn't going to die before Tom Riddle was ended."
The three women were staring at each other in shock. Albus Dumbledore had already been dying before Harry had killed him?
That knowledge…changed things.
As Fleur tried to reconcile what that might mean, she saw Madame Pomfrey didn't have a modicum of surprise on her face. The woman had just bowed her head for a moment before focusing on Harry.
"As Albus was oh too fond of doing, he kept information hidden to the Wizarding World's detriment," he said. "And it wasn't until he was in dire straits that he enacted his plan."
Fleur was listening to Harry but she kept watching Pomfrey. The woman was muttering to herself and looked more distraught than she'd ever seen her, including after they brought the wounded and reports of those who'd died in raids.
"He pushed and completed my advanced technique training in the Mind Arts just a month before his death," he said, before he suddenly slammed his fist on the desk. "The man had absolutely no regard for me. He had no regard for anyone. We were all just characters in some sick game of his."
Fleur could feel her hands tensing, and though they were in a memory, it felt as though her palms were clamming up.
Lifting his chin toward the ceiling, Harry ran his hand down his face, before tilting his head back down.
"Historically, the Mind Arts were never a part of the Hogwarts curriculum for the simple fact that they are far too dangerous. And even though we have had centuries, as a people, to examine and delve into the mysteries of magic, they are scarcely understood and few, if any, have dared to try and pioneer new techniques in the art."
Many were taught Occlumency, Fleur knew. They were taught the basis of defending their mind but there were so few legilimens that learning more than the basics was considered to be a waste of effort by most. Legilimency was illegal to use on others and only a rare few professions actively required it.
And now that Harry mentioned it, she had never heard of any advances in the field. It was considered an archaic magic; one that was fading, only taught to those that truly had information to protect.
"With all magic there is a cost," Harry said, slipping his wand into his hand. "For most spells, it is your magical power, your attention, focus, and determination. And for the rare spell, an emotion."
Without uttering a word, a ball of light appeared on the end of his wand. "As long as I keep feeding minimal attention and power, this simple spell will stay in place," he said before letting it sputter out. "But when you look into the more…esoteric fields of magic, things become… strange."
The final three words were enunciated slowly with his voice getting quieter with each one.
At this point, he reached into his leather pouch and pulled out a familiar looking throwing star.
"Did any of you really believe that I could create such a weapon by just paying the cost in magical power? That I could just focus on it and achieve it with determination?"
He was sneering at them now and Fleur felt the poignant rebuttal of her enchanting failures. From her quick glance around, it appeared Lily did as well.
"Albus was well versed in the price he paid for his rampant abuse of Legilimency," he said before slamming his hand on the table. "And occlumency."
As he said the last part, he pushed himself up out of his chair so quickly that it toppled over behind him. With a brutal motion, he kicked the chair away and then began to pace again.
He went back and forth, not saying anything audible. Then, with no precursor, he stopped, extended his hand and stared at it again.
All four of them were focused on the same thing he was but this time there was an unmistakable tremor.
Harry's second hand grasped his wrist but the hand kept shaking.
With an indiscernible look, Harry shut his eyes and then clapped his hand behind his back again. Then once more, he resumed pacing, this time his cadence more deliberate, slow, structured.
"Occlumens are taught that absolute focus, fierce determination, and channeling their magic is how they notice an intrusion and push it out," he said, turning on the spot and walking the other way, along the width of the room. "But there is another cost…a hidden payment…emotion, your memories' emotions."
Whirling her head around, Fleur looked at Lily and then Pomfrey but neither appeared to have an idea if that was true or not.
"It isn't the emotions you feel while being attacked though," he said, pausing to look toward them again. "It's a tiny, negligible portion of the emotions from your memories. So small that the overall effect is practically nonexistent. And the effect isn't documented in any book I have come across."
Fleur swallowed. If the total amount was 'practically negligible' how drastic would the effect have to be for Harry to be so certain? What had been done to him?
"I believe this is what made Albus so uncaring to the lives he destroyed," he said. "His lack of empathy for the victims of bullying, rape, and murder are likely the result from the overuse of occlumency. Not that he warned me about that."
The implications of these revelations were making Fleur's brain hurt. Was this why Albus had been so serene and unflappable? Was this why Harry could confront her without appearing to care at all?
"Did you ever wonder how Voldemort accepted me into his ranks?" Harry asked as his feet began to move again, one after the other. "I had to do three things."
He held up three fingers. "First of which was to subject myself to a full legilimency interrogation… By Riddle, himself."
To her left, Iris gasped, and she wasn't the only one. That would have been unpleasant.
Lowering his ring finger, he continued. "I had to answer questions from the Inner Circle while under the influence of veritaserum," he said, before dropping his middle finger. "And after the first two steps, I had to prove my resolve for the cause."
Shutting her eyes, Fleur attempted to control her breathing.
"Prematurely ending Dumbledore's life got me in the door," he said. "But it wasn't enough to prove my…loyalty."
Fleur held her eyes shut, not wanting to see pity in the other's eyes. She'd had enough of that for ten lifetimes.
"Riddle knew he couldn't fight against Britain and the rest of Europe," he said, his voice low. "And Dumbledore's plan would never work if France got involved."
Harry paused. He was standing in front of the desk again and he opened his mouth to continue before a flash of indecision crossed his face.
"But let's back up a bit," he said, tilting his head before nodding to himself. "How could I pass a veritaserum interrogation? How could Voldemort view my memories and not kill me on the spot?"
Harry let his questions linger in the air as he twirled his wand and righted the chair with a spell. He sat down and leaned it forward.
"The Mind Arts are the most underutilized branch of magic," he said, steepling his hands together. "The most underutilized because it can lead to a fate worse than death. For the target, or the practitioner."
Looking back at the bookshelf, he paused for a moment.
"To join the Dark Lord's ranks, I had to systematically remake my entire set of memories," he said without preamble. "Dumbledore's advanced technique would ensure it passed interrogation, but that was a double-edged sword. Nobody could tell they were not genuine…including me."
Lily gave a strangled cry and her hands came up to stifle a sob. "That's horrific," she whispered hoarsely.
It was a terrible fate. Your memories, experiences, and behavior made you into the person you were. The only thing worse was to be obliviated and made a permanent vegetable. The punishment for full obliviation was the dementor's kiss for a reason.
Destroying your own memories like that? It was unimaginable.
The Killing Curse humanely ended your life in a flash while wiping memories was akin to torture, removing that which made them human, leaving them and their loved ones with the knowledge that they would never be who they were again
"Think back to my tenth birthday. The one where Iris had some of her friends come for the first time, an annual…tradition," he sneered the final word.
Fleur turned to the black-haired girl and tilted her head in question.
"The cupcake incident," Lily said, smiling.
Iris leaned into her mother. "He didn't have to bring it up again," she mumbled, ducking her head.
"Academically, I know that I have tampered with the memory, but when I replay it, all I feel is a…muted detachment," he said. "It's hazy, the colours are washed out and I feel nothing. All I can recall is that my parents invited my sister's friends to my party and Iris pushed over the table with all the cupcakes on it, covering me in icing because she wasn't allowed to join our Quidditch match."
Fleur had heard this story before but it was wholly different. Iris had always expressed how grateful she was that Harry was so inclusive of her and her friends, including arguing with his parents to let her fly before she was the age he had been permitted to.
The day in question had been the first time he'd begun the tradition of inviting some of Iris' friends to his party, so the whole family could have a wonderful day together. But this first birthday had grown to have a sort of comical infamy over the years.
She'd heard the story at many family dinners and recalled Harry telling her family about it. Of Iris accidentally starting a cupcake war, a massive food fight. Though it had been some time since any of the Potters were willing to speak about the boy Harry had been.
But as the projection of the memory played out on the contraption Harry had brought out, they watched a scene that didn't quite match.
While Harry landed his broom, clearly upset, Iris was arguing with her parents. It was then that the accidental magic happened. The cupcake laden table was blasted over and Harry was covered in cupcake and icing, from head to toe.
But instead of it now devolving into a food fight, it skipped forward, to Lily and James clutching their stomachs, laughing. Laughing at him, not with him, and a smirking Iris hiding behind them, having already been cleaned up. And then it ended with his parents telling him this was his fault.
Fleur's lips parted slightly, but she didn't know what to say. The fond memory was missing the earlier context and appeared to have Harry disciplined for Iris throwing a tantrum and ruining the desserts on his birthday.
"Dumbledore had this brilliant plan," Harry said, giving a derisive snort. "Butcher my memories to show a slow, ever growing resentment toward my family. A simmering jealousy that boiled over and turned me against them. Because Voldemort would understand it…"
Fleur watched as memory-Harry ran his hand through his hair, his head bowed.
"Riddle hated his family," he said. "He loathed them and was all too familiar with the story Dumbledore had me portray. Of sneering at so-called perfect families. Of longing for love and kindness but never being shown it."
He put the contraption away and let out a sigh. "Riddle grew up with resentment, spite and covetousness as his closest friends."
The Order had done their best to research the Dark Lord after Albus had died. There were so few that knew him that were not committed to his cause and less that were aware of his origins. Most of those who would have known had passed or were murdered by him.
"And he saw what he wanted…what he understood," Harry said, softly turning his chin back and forth. "He saw himself in me. A prodigy of magic that hated his family… A young wizard that wanted to learn from the most powerful, revered sorcerer of the time but was instead scorned. Scorned by Albus Dumbledore."
He sat upright in his chair and stared forward, as if he knew where they would view the memory from. "I didn't even have to fake the resentment, merely amplify when it came to that bastard." he said, his eyes flashing. "Albus never had any intention of teaching me his magic or letting me in on his secrets. He wanted a spy, a relic hunter, a patsy to pat on the head and send off, damning him with consequences he hadn't cared to explain."
Harry stood up once more and folded his hands behind his back.
"Legilimency is the art of looking through, watching, another's memories," he said. "But what Dumbledore taught me wasn't an ability to watch but to copy…to steal. And not just the memory itself but everything it entails, as if they experienced it."
Shutting his eyes, Harry abruptly spun on his heel and began to pace again.
"The human brain isn't equipped for that," he said, his voice growing raw. "Every time I used this method, unbeknownst to me, a small, tiny fraction of my own memory was lost. Not that it would have mattered," he added bitterly.
Harry paused. "Look around," he said, putting his arms out wide and spinning. "You can all see it, feel it. You can tell this is a memory. It is not perfect, there are blotches on the edges, there is a hint of blurriness on anything that moves, and the items on the bookshelf lack fine detail."
Lowering his arms, Harry gave a morose smile. "When you copy a memory, there is always degradation. This, being a new, fresh memory, means it is at its visual peak. And for a few months it will mostly stay that way," he said, staring vacantly forward.
"We are in a castle built by some of the best practitioners of magic to have ever lived. We had a headmaster here, for decades, that could do things in Transfiguration that no one else alive could replicate, and many of the students come from families that have centuries of history kept in their libraries."
Those were all true and obvious, but though Fleur was intently listening, she couldn't fathom what he was leading to.
"But we are in a school taught by real, living and breathing professors, save one ghost," he said. "We don't learn in pensieves from the founder's memories because they only last from six months to a year."
Getting up out of the chair, Harry made his way over to a bookshelf and held his wand against a plain looking wooden box. He muttered a few spells and then turned back toward the room. "Go check out this box," he said. "Put the memory in the crystal vial into the pensieve when you are done."
Just after memory-Harry spoke, Fleur felt the memory end and then returned to the door to the Chamber of Secrets.
It had only been a few minutes, but Fleur felt as if her whole world had been rocked. The foundation upon which she built her life for the last few years was falling out from beneath her. And as she stood there, breathing in shallow breaths, she didn't know what to do or how to react to all of this.
She blinked and then looked around her. Iris and Lily were hugging each other, tear tracts visible on their faces. They beckoned her over and she joined them.
They stood in a hug, taking solace from their shared warmth, when they heard the creaking of hinges.
Pomfrey had approached a section of the wall that had a door built into it, one Fleur hadn't noticed before.
She entered and the three of them followed after her. It was clear they had just entered into the same office Harry had recorded the memory in.
As she took a look around the room, Fleur saw Madam Pomfrey opening the crate. It opened like a chest and when the top hinged all the way open, it appeared to dissolve as if the wood became liquid, flowing back into the brass hinge.
Fleur joined the others, peering over it. The interior was far larger than what the twelve inch wide by nine inch long crate actually was.
There were rows upon rows of memories stored in vials and as Fleur's eyes searched around, there was no obvious way of pulling them out. If you tried to reach your hand inside the separation between the various rows, held together in wooden racking, there were no edges to pull or lift.
Taking out her wand, she cast a few detection spells and found the trigger mechanism.
She put the top of her wand into it and pressed it against the very center, where the edges of multiple wooden racks met. With a small push of her magic, the release was activated.
Taking a step back, she yanked at the others' robes, pulling them away as well. The box was many times larger on the inside, and knowing Harry's enchanting prowess, it could expand magnitudes larger than it packed up.
The neat little rows began to file out, two dozen vials per row. They assembled together, forming a base and then adding levels up behind them. As more and more joined the procession, it became clear that it was assembling into a half-colosseum.
As she took two steps to her left, she could see the exterior had the telltale architecture of the one found in Rome. And as it finished assembling, there was the arena floor, and the three tiers of seating and the backing above it.
When the box had been emptied, it sank into the arena floor before words appeared in Harry's messy scrawl.
Select the setting.
There was an arrow pointing to the box where the emperor would have sat. But instead of having seats, there were three figurines. A young boy that appeared to be a five year old Harry, a replica of Hogwarts and an edelweiss flower, Fleur's favourite.
When her eyes reached the edelweiss, Fleur felt her heart flutter. And she stood there, a hand on her chest Harry had sorted his life into childhood, Hogwarts, and her.
The young man that she had dated had clearly viewed his time with her as monumental.
As Fleur was trying to wrestle with her emotions, Lily tapped the figurine of Harry. The colosseum lit up and vials rose from under the stadium, neatly arranging themselves as if they were spectators.
But as Fleur looked around, she noticed sections were backlit by different coloured lights and there was wording on the back walls, above the seats. There were markings for Baby-Toddler, 5-7, 8-9, 10-11, and then an area where people's names were, including Mum, Dad, Iris, Padfoot, Moony, and Friends.
Lily grabbed a vial from her section and poured it into the arena that appeared to be a place to see them. But instead of the cloudy gray liquid coming out, this had an eerie, magical glow. The liquid was a browny-black and far more viscous than it should be.
The implication wasn't lost on anyone, and Lily's tears fell onto the arena floor. Iris picked up vials that had her name and opened each one. Every time she saw what was inside, her face fell further. Her bottom lip was shaking, and she backed away until the back of her knees made contact with the chair and she fell into it.
Iris brought her knees up to her chest and sat, watching them, fighting to keep her tenuous grasp on her composure.
"I don't see a crystal vial," Pomfrey said, her voice scarcely louder than a whisper.
Fleur was about to try and scan the colosseum for further enchantments when Lily brought her wand out again and tapped the Hogwarts figurine, before moving on to the flower, after seeing it wasn't in the Hogwarts setting.
As she looked at the third configuration, she couldn't help but notice a section that had a roof over it. She tried to reach under it but she felt a jolt and withdrew her hand, "Ouch." She sucked on the end of her finger`. That had been a nasty warning.
The top of the box lit up with lettering: Private memories.
She blinked as the words circulated in her head and then blinked again. Oh.
Lily kept on trying to figure it out and had begun to cast detection spells. But while Lily focused on the magic, Fleur noticed the arena floor had cleared itself of the former memory and there was a small glowing circle in the middle of it, the light pulsating up against the floor from below.
With a tap of her wand, Fleur initiated the spot to open up and a sole memory vial, crystal, glowing with the magic rose up into the focal point of the colosseum.
Grabbing it, Lily turned to head back to the other side of the room where Pomfrey had moved the pensieve to.
But before Fleur was willing to continue learning what had happened to Harry, and where he might be, she had to know if any of the memories he had with her were still good. Perhaps their recency would have kept them stable longer?
She scanned the named sections and found one entitled Engagement.
With a wave of her wand, a vial from the end of each row had its top pulled off. She leaned over them and saw the same brownish-black colour.
Letting out a shuddering breath, Fleur took a moment to collect herself.
Was it best that he couldn't recall their actual relationship anymore? Or was it worse that the young man that she had loved was gone? There was no doubt he still remembered something from their time together but his memories were purposefully polluted and he'd shown no inclination toward her well-being during the war.
Or had he?
The only time she was in combat against him, he swatted her spells away. But did he select a non-lethal spell or had that been random luck?
He'd mentioned losing his own memories to the stolen ones. Did he have any left of their relationship?
Fleur rubbed at her temples. This was why she'd hesitated coming into this room. The war had ended and the world looked like a brighter, happier place already. She was moving on with her life but this…this was trying to pull her back. To muddy and complicate her life. To bring back feelings better left dead and long buried.
"I'm going to go on and find out what happened to my son," Lily said, dropping the memory into the pensieve. "Are you all coming?"
Letting out a sigh, Fleur nodded. She wanted to say no, she wanted to pull on her hair, scream, and run far, far, far from here but she knew she'd eventually want the resolution. And given her closeness to the Potters, it was better to find out first hand.
The four of them descended into the memory and Harry was waiting for them already.
"Thanks to Dumbledore, I have an ability that has caused me to lose much of the tampered memories of my youth. I have an ability that will kill me if I use it too much," he said, rubbing at his forehead. "The constant editing of my memories to maintain my role ensured that I am emotionally detached from what little I do recall."
"Before all this began, Bones gave me a pardon. She won't remember it but that doesn't make the document any less binding," he said, frowning. "But I've done my job, there aren't any horcruxes left; I found all of them and removed the one from Iris' scar."
He stopped there. "Oh, that's right," he said. "None of you knew about them."
"Horcruxes?" Fleur said, incredulously. "S-soul splitting?"
Pomfrey gave her a nod as Fleur looked around, her mouth suddenly dry.
"The war only lasted as long as it did because I needed the time to find and destroy them all," Harry said, shaking his head. "And if I had wanted the Dark Lord to win, your side would have fallen within six months."
He let out a dark chuckle. "If I had wanted, I could be ruling the ministry now, using the chaos to take over," he said before standing up. "But why would I want to rule over this damned country? Work with people whose hobbies are muggle baiting, rape and murder? Or worse, people so ineffectual that even with the plans of the other side being leaked to them, they were entirely incapable of turning the tide of the war?"
Standing up, Harry took off his mask. "I'm no longer the heir of Voldemort," he said. "I'm no longer the spy keeping your side from annihilation. I'm not your son, I'm not your brother, or anyone's significant other."
He threw the mask into the middle of the desk and cast a spell, lighting it on fire.
"The great leader of the Light was as responsible for destroying as many lives as Tom Riddle," he said. "Dumbledore knew Riddle was the culprit that opened the Chamber of Secrets, the one that had Myrtle killed."
He blew the hair off his forehead. "Just think about this," he said. "Albus Dumbledore bypassed every single Death Eater's occlumency shields and knew every single crime they ever committed."
He tucked his chin down, sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled. "He knew Pettigrew was going to betray you. He knew the McKinnons were going to be exterminated, he knew the Prewett twins were walking into a trap, and that the Longbottoms were going to be attacked." he said, his face solemn. "He knew everything but liked to play god with people's lives. He was a manipulative old bastard who was too cowardly to act on the information he had."
Fleur didn't know those people or their relatives, but she knew of them, of their stories. She had known the cost the members of the Order of the Phoenix had paid in the first war. How could she not?
But to have been betrayed? To have been led by an icon that, if what they were hearing was true, was a hypocrite and fraud.
With his eyes burning with fury, Harry leaned over the desk. "He made a weapon out of a fresh Hogwarts graduate, one that would do the dirty work and destroy itself in the process," he said. "I fully believe Albus thought I'd lose my own memories and wouldn't be able to rat on how terrible of a man he was."
Harry paused here, either in self-reflection or because he knew they needed a chance to process that revelation.
The revelations were coming too fast and furious now. Fleur couldn't process this all and none of the others could either. It was sad, heart-breaking but also terrible.
It didn't surprise her that Harry was capable of winning the war for them. He was…there was a reason she'd fallen in love with him. He was so talented, driven, and he loved so fervently.
And if he was right, Dumbledore had taken that loving young man and twisted him into the exact tool that they needed to win.
Because going after a horcrux was a daunting task. Going after multiple horcruxes? If word had ever leaked out, they'd never have been rid of the Dark Lord.
"I don't know what his plans were. I don't know if he wanted the adult populations to kill each other off so he could lead the children into a new, glorious future," he said. "But I do know he was working towards a 'Greater Good'. An idea that he spawned with Grindelwald in his youth and refined through the decades. A master plan that only he was aware of and that makes no sense if you look at his actions."
A new and glorious future? What did that even mean? If the war had continued, their numbers would have dwindled and the surviving children would be led by the headmaster of Hogwarts. But to what end?
And what was this about Grindelwald?
"The only reason the old bastard lived so long was by having a daily dose of phoenix tears," he said. "Frankly, I think the constant use of Mind Arts killed off his emotions, destroyed his brain, and decimated his ability to reason, leaving only flashes of the man he was in his prime."
Fleur had no idea how to respond to this. In a way, this felt like rather privileged, private information. But the consequences of what Harry was revealing would rock the Wizarding World if they were revealed.
"I'm only a couple years into the use of the technique and look at what it's done to me," Harry said, holding up his shaking hand. "It will get better; as I continue my treatment and fashion myself a new identity. When my sense of self isn't so muted and fractured."
He snorted. "But I'm done here. I'm done with this Merlin-forsaken country and don't you dare bother looking for me," he said. "The only reason you are getting this information is because I've been pardoned. I've planned to fake my death and leave without a trace for a long, long time now."
Harry took off his dark robe and put it on the desk. Another spell had it in flames and nobody said anything while the memory of it was burning. When it was near finishing, he took off his leather pouch, withdrew Loki's Anguish, and then threw it into the fire.
With deliberate slowness, Harry opened the top drawer of his desk and put his weapon in it.
"You'll need to de-enchant that," Harry said. "The weapon has served its purpose; though, like everything else he had a hand in planning, Dumbledore messed it up, too."
With his lips shut, Harry's tongue pushed against his left cheek before rolling to the right. "If everything had ended in a few months, nobody would have died and I'd have all my memories back," he said before rolling his eyes. "But Dumbledore told me what to do without knowing where all the horcruxes were or what they even were."
Harry looked into flames. "It took years."
Opening his mouth, it appeared as though he was going to say something but he shut it without saying anything, watching the robes burn.
"Your family was supposed to have been abducted, their house burned down and your mother and sister passed around between the Death Eaters as a reward…like so many others."
Harry looked up at the roof and shook his head again. "Take the throwing star apart and you'll find what you need inside."
With that, Harry put out the fire and vanished the ashes on the desk. He began to walk toward the door when he suddenly stopped.
"This is goodbye. I'd say I'll miss you and I love you and all that, but…I don't even know you. And the only thing I feel right now is the relief that this is all over," he said, a smile gracing his face.
"I'll remind you that I was pardoned," he said. "The document is in a vault under my name. Ask Gringotts and they'll provide a copy."
He shrugged now. "If anyone tries for retribution for my actions in the war, they'll only expedite their deaths. Don't look for me. I have more gold than I could possibly spend and you won't find me."
He squared his shoulders and opened the door. "Goodbye and good luck. Make a better world than the crap one that led to this."
With those words, he walked out the door, and the memory faded.
x-x-x
It had been absolute chaos ever since they'd viewed the memories. Lily, Iris, and Pomfrey had been almost inconsolable. Yet Fleur couldn't help but feel detached by this. Perhaps she just was refusing to let herself feel but she didn't think so.
Harry had murdered her family and any love she had for him had long since waned. These revelations, while terrible and sad, didn't change the fact that they were never going to be together. Though he'd made it clear anyway.
So, she took out Loki's Anguish and put it on the desk.
It would be best to get it to a properly warded area, but Fleur wasn't going to fail now. She might not be able to recreate it, but she could certainly dismantle it.
With her wand touching the outer ring of the middle, Fleur pushed her magic into it, delicately weaving it in. Next, she positioned herself to hold each enchantment with a finger before pulling them off the stabilizing ring.
This was so much enchantments were pre-stabilized and all she had to do was pull them apart and then de-power them.
With careful precision, she pulled each off, detaching them, and then began to power them down.
This wasn't as simple as she was making it out to be, but Fleur had ample practice at this, even if she'd failed to complete the stabilization process herself.
After she'd turned the sharp pointed edges into inert metal, Fleur grabbed the center ring and noticed that the magic wasn't gone quite yet.
The outer ring had been powered down, but the inner portion had some magic in it.
Frowning, she began analyzing it. It was a recording enchantment of some kind…with some sort of instructions programmed into it?
Not finding anything remotely dangerous, she activated it and three words appeared in the air.
Behind the bookshelf.
With a silent spell, Fleur levitated it out of the way and found a large arched doorway, wide enough for a troll to walk through, if it was opened. She approached it but the door was warded.
What was on the other side? How could she get through it?
Looking down at her hand, she remembered the small sphere of metal had another enchantment on it. Did it do more than one thing?
Prodding it with her wand, she activated it once more.
A hissing noise came from it that made Fleur shiver and drop it. But it had done its part. The doors were opening.
Fleur stepped inside and couldn't see anything. With a flick of her wand, there was a sphere of light floating in front of her, illuminating the massive cave. The air smelled stale and had a faint odor that was hard to place.
The walls and ceiling were made of rock that looked like they'd been hollowed out without any care or precision. It was strictly utilitarian, without decor or artwork. And littered across the floor were rectangular stone slabs. Each with something resting on top.
Something shaped like a body, a person.
Fleur stumbled forward and went to the closest ones, a group of three.
Two of the slabs had bodies on them, but the third was empty.
Creeping closer, step by step, Fleur's stomach clenched together and all she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears.
With a shaking hand, she redirected the ball of light to hang over top of the first set of slabs. And as its light fell on the bodies, Fleur saw a sight she never thought she'd see ever again.
Her parents were there, their faces ashen and bodies cold to the touch. Yet preserved, with their eyes shut and hands on their chest.
A pained sob escaped her lips as she fell to her knees.
Tears streamed down her face and her mouth was as dry as could be.
She tried to reach forward, to touch them again, but they were so cold, and as much as she wanted to, her arms refused to cooperate.
Her breaths were coming fast and shallow, taking in the stale air as she hyperventilated, staring at her deceased parents.
Why were they still here? Why hadn't their bodies been returned to her, years ago, so she could bury them?
And where was Gabrielle? Her darling little sister?
Tearing her eyes away from her parents, she noticed there was a piece of parchment there. Fleur reached for it, grasping it with her trembling fingers.
She had to wipe her eyes, twice, before she could make out any words.
Loki's Anguish was meant to give the person a false death. It transported the victim to safe sites that had been setup. It burned the clothing of the person, leaving the ashes behind, and caused them to scream, when the illusion that the fire was active, until they were transported.
Dumbledore had adapted the wards that allowed Salazar Slytherin's basilisk to survive for over a thousand years to be adapted for humans. However, unlike a basilisk, humans are not meant to hibernate and live off their magic alone. After a few months, it became readily apparent that they would run out of magic and die. All experiments to provide an external source of magic failed. I did not have enough free time to devote to the project and have no inclination to do so in the future.
I am never returning to this Merlin-forsaken island.
By the time it was clear what was going to happen to your parents, I held no emotional attachment to them. But for whatever reason, your sister deteriorated rapidly. Perhaps it was her heritage, but more likely it was her age and lack of magical maturation.
Regardless, I had to make a decision on her shortly after turning spy and I found, while my memories were still accessible, that I couldn't allow her life to terminate prematurely, especially while I still held out hope that I would not have to kill anyone in the war.
Gabrielle has been well looked after. Every need that could be provided for her has been. When you find her (her home address is under this letter), remove her necklace. It suppresses her magic, veela traits, and her memories of family.
Fleur couldn't read any further. Her lips tasted wet and salty, and the world was blurry, but she could still hear.
"She's alive," someone called out.
The words shook her out of her sole focus and Fleur saw blurred shapes that indicated they had entered after her.
"Homenum Revelio" Fleur incanted. As the spell washed over the room, she felt it return presence after presence.
Others were alive in here, though far less than the total number of slabs. Perhaps less than a third, Fleur thought.
And as much as she wanted to chase after her sister, to find her, hug her and never let her go, she knew she had to help. If some of these people were close to death, she wouldn't forgive herself for failing to assist.
According to Harry, Gabrielle was fine and well looked after. It had been years and she could wait until nobody else's life was on the line before going.
After snatching up the address, Fleur pulled her sleeves up and began to move to the next set of slabs
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
All in all, the hectic recovery of the survivors of Loki's Anguish went better than Fleur would have anticipated. Only those that had been hit in the last few months were still alive. They had been revived, treated, and many were well enough to leave the hospital.
Though she'd helped, her mind had never strayed far from her current target of observation.
It was hard to believe that the teenager in front of her was her baby sister.
The hair colour was entirely wrong, but the nose and cheek structure were all her maman.
And while she was hiding under a disillusionment charm, Fleur couldn't help but second guess not bringing Lily or Iris.
They had offered to come but they were both dealing with their own issues right now.
Lily was burying herself in all the necessary work, helping organize the reappearance of so many and the gaps in the leadership in the Order and Ministry. Iris, who wasn't taking what had happened to Harry all that well, was getting a breath of fresh air, with the revival of her best friend. The two were catching up and Iris was filling Hermione in on everything she had missed.
With Tonks still on the mend, she had a chance to slip away and confirm her sister was alive before letting the others know. But the little flirt was too busy chatting up a boy to leave. Fleur was strongly considering using her allure to drive off the poor boy but she didn't know if he was a good friend of Gabby's or not.
She didn't know much of anything about the teenager that looked closer to adulthood than the little girl that had volunteered to be a part of the Second Task.
But her luck was turning.
"Au revoir, I'll see you tomorrow," Gabby said, an impish smile on her face. "Won't I?" she added, protruding her bottom lip while her eyes widened.
"Uh, err…" the boy replied intelligently, "yes! I- if that's what you w- want."
If she wasn't trying to stay inconspicuous, Fleur would have let out a snort. Gabby had him wrapped around her little finger.
She gave him a dainty wave and skipped away.
Fleur didn't waste any time. She activated the muggle repelling and confundus wards and then hit Gabrielle with Petrificus Totalus.
Her legs snapped together, and Fleur had to dart to her to hold her up.
"Shh, I'm not going to hurt you," she said, letting go of Gabby, noticing her fear-filled eyes. "You'll understand in a moment."
Hopefully.
Running a finger along her neck, Fleur found the invisible necklace Harry had said would be there. As Fleur began to pull it over Gabrielle's head, she felt how much power this enchanted piece of jewelry held.
It thrummed in her hand and she couldn't help but take a moment to marvel at how jam-packed it was with runic engravings. Harry must have spent weeks devoted to crafting it.
She carefully stowed it in her bag and then looked back at her sister.
The dirty blonde hair had lightened, gaining a silver sheen to her lightened hair, matching Fleur's. That wasn't the biggest change she noticed, though. It was her little sister's eyes.
They were swirling with such emotion and Fleur couldn't help the swelling of hope within her.
She took hold of both of her shoulders and stared into her blue eyes, wanting, waiting, hoping for her to respond, to just speak her name.
But she waited, as agonizing second after agonizing second went by.
Was Harry wrong? Did she not remember?
She stared at her with her resolve to not cry, or be upset that her sister wasn't reacting to her, beginning to crack
The only thing she could see in Gabby's frozen face was a mirthful gleam, as if she was laughing on the inside but doing an impeccable job hiding it.
It was then that she realized what was going on.
She withdrew her wand and released the spell keeping her sister from moving.
And then the best thing she'd heard in years came from Gabby's lips. "Fleur! I- I've missed you!"
And as she said those wonderful, gut wrenching words, Fleur felt Gabby crash into her and the warmth of her arms embracing her.
Fleur wrapped her sister back up and kissed the crown of her head.
For all she'd been through, for all the time that she'd thought she'd never get to do this again, Fleur couldn't imagine anywhere else she'd rather be, anyone else she'd rather be spending time with.
The filth of years of war, fear, and hate was being washed away by the affection and love she held for her little sister.
"I've missed you, too," Fleur said, holding her sister, rocking back and forth as tears of joy streamed down her face. "I love you, so, so, so much."
With Gabrielle crying into her neck, Fleur couldn't help but feel as though no matter what life threw at her next, tomorrow, or any day after it, things were going to be alright.
And no matter what the world threw at her now, with the war over. She had a family of choice to return to and her darling little angel back in her life.
The sun would set on this day and a bright new, hopeful day would come tomorrow. She had her whole life ahead of her and she could get on with it, focusing on what was most important. Friendship, family, love, and the little angel hugging her.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Thanks for reading and following along. I'm inordinately pleased to say that this fic is now complete, my second one.
Special thanks to Taliesin19, Nauze and Petrificus Somewhatus, your assistance is always greatly appreciated.