Remorse and Revelations

Chapter Four – Remorse and Revelations

A few, a very few, people knew that Poppy Pomfrey actually owned a small house in Hogsmeade. Now that the war was over, it was actually possible for her to live there again, instead of living in the back half of her office in the Hogwarts Infirmary as she had while the fighting was at its worst. And living in Hogsmeade made her life so much simpler.

People just didn't understand what a Healer's Oath really meant – especially the part about helping and healing everyone. Not just the people on one side. More than one of her colleagues had been investigated for giving aid and comfort to the enemy. More than one had barely escaped Azkaban. Fortunately, that nonsense seemed to finally be over.

But that didn't make her current situation much easier. She knocked on the door to the guest room in her cottage and stepped inside when it opened to her touch. Her guest was lounging on the bed, books stacked neatly beside him. "Good evening."

"Evening, Poppy," he growled. "Had a good day?"

"Well enough, Peredur," she answered. "Have you decided yet what you're going to do now that you're healed?"

"Leave – sooner rather than later. If anyone finds out you've been sheltering me, we'll both be in Azkaban – or dead, if we're lucky."

"I've given it some thought. You'll have to leave Britain to be safe."

"That's going to be quite the trick. I can't Apparate, you know."

"If you were disguised as a Muggle, could you manage to get into Europe?"

"Maybe. I'd need those identification papers they have."

She thought for a long moment. "What about hiding you here in plain sight? No, hear me out! I know a lot of cosmetic spells; I can change the color of your hair, your eyes, the shape of your face – and they'll be real changes, not Glamours. After about a month, the residual magic fades, and no one would be able to tell."

"That might work. If you're willing to put in the time and effort."

"You're my brother, Peredur. My twin! Of course I'll put in the time and effort! But there's one thing."

"What?"

"I need to understand. You never told me why."

"Why what? Why become Tom Riddle's lapdog?" He shrugged at her nod. "Lotta reasons, I guess. You were part of it."

"Me? I never told you to toady up to a madman!"

"No, no... but see, you went to Hogwarts. I couldn't. Never got the letter. It's Hell to be a Squib. 'Most everyone laughs at you when they think you aren't listening, and sometimes when they know you are."

Like Argus, she thought, only he found a place for himself at Hogwarts. "I never laughed at you."

"No you didn't. But you were so happy... and you'd come home on holiday and show Mum and Dad what you'd been learning... and then you'd leave and they'd look at me and I know how disappointed they were. Hell, Poppy, they never sent me to any kind of school, never got me a trade or a skill. And they never let me forget that I was a burden to them." His voice caught on a half-strangled sob. "So, you were part of it because Mum and Dad loved you best."

"And then..."

"And then – I got hurt." He traced the long-healed scars that ran across his face and disappeared under his collar with a long-fingered hand. "Mum and Dad were going to have me put down like a dog. I heard them talking about it. So I... left."

"They told me you'd run away from home and gone into the Muggle world," Poppy said softly. "I wish I'd known."

"No you don't. I would've dragged you down with me. That's why I changed my name. You never would have become a Mediwitch with me as a millstone around your neck." He sat up on the edge of the bed. "Tom promised me power and gold. He said he didn't care that I was a Squib; I was useful to him and I felt like I belonged for the first time in my life!"

"And then he reneged?" she guessed.

"It was when he quit being Tom and became Voldemort that it changed," he answered quietly. "Instead of being his friend and confidant, I became his pet monster. And when I didn't do what he wanted, he put me under the Imperius curse and had me kill for him. After the first five or six murders, I was in no position to disobey any more – I would've gone to Azkaban." He laughed, a harsh and bitter sound. "Not that Tom cared. He kept me under that damned curse for years. Only when that Potter boy killed him was I freed!"

"Oh, Peredur!"

"Turnabout, Poppy. You never did tell me how I ended up here instead of Azkaban."

Poppy wiped her eyes. "I found you on the edge of the battle where you'd been knocked out. Once I recognized you, I put you under a Disillusionment charm and then brought you here to take care of you properly."

He shook his head. "Foolish Hufflepuff. What if someone from Hogwarts had seen you? What if someone follows you now?"

"That's not likely, there's only a handful of Death Eaters still on the loose – none of them very powerful. Albus is in Italy, and Minerva has her hands full with the school. And I've taken pains to make sure Severus will avoid me."

"Snape? He's the one I'd be most wary of. He keeps his thoughts close, he does." He shook his head. "It's hard to imagine him as a spy for Dumbledore. I don't know whether to kill him for treachery or shake his hand for helping dispose of Tom."

Poppy took one of his hands in hers. "If you were under the Imperius curse all the time, surely that's grounds to have all the charges against you dropped."

"With no proof? Just my word."

"A Pensieve! Your memories of Vold... Tom putting you under the curse should be enough."

"Maybe enough to keep me from being Kissed instantly, I'll allow – but do you really think I'd be pardoned for everything I did? Can you imagine the headlines in the Prophet? Fenris Greyback pardoned! It'll never happen."

~*~

"Where'd Mum and Dad go?" Percy asked, coming into the kitchen of the Burrow.

"Put the kettle on, would you? They've gone out." Ginny reached into the cupboard for teacups.

"Left you behind to mind me again?" he asked bitterly as he poked the kettle savagely with his wand. The kettle promptly began heating itself.

"Don't you dare feel sorry for yourself," his sister exploded. "This is your own damned fault, Percy Weasley! You were the one who turned your back on our family and friends to join with Voldemort. Did you really expect everyone would just forget about that?" She banged the cups on the table with such force that one of them shattered. "Reparo!" Then more calmly, "you haven't done anything to make people think you're trustworthy. All you've done for months is sit in your room and mope!"

"But I haven't anything to do!"

"Stuff and nonsense! You have a wand. You could tidy up the garden some, help Mum with dinner... you could even Apparate or Floo to Diagon Alley and do the shopping for her."

"How would that make people trust me?" he asked.

"It wouldn't. But it would please Mum no end. You know she put herself – and Dad too – at risk by breaking the Soulstriking early. And how have you repaid her? By sulking like a five year old who isn't getting his way. You want people to trust you, you need to start with your own family, Percy. Don't wait for Mum or Dad or me to tell you what to do. You've got a brain, and you can see that there's plenty to be done around the house." She poured the now-hot tea and pushed one cup across the counter to him.

Percy looked around the kitchen, for the first time seeing the shabbiness of the room. Accepting the tea, he said quietly, "Thank you, Ginny. I guess I needed a verbal kick in the pants." He drained the cup and took out his wand. "I'll be outside. I think some of the basic maintenance spells could use reinforcing."

He didn't see the small smile that his sister directed at his back.

~*~

"There is nothing wrong with the wards at Azkaban," Kingsley said at the emergency meeting. "I had them checked by half a dozen Aurors. I would love to know how Malfoy managed this." As expected, virtually the entire Order of the Phoenix was present.

"He must have had a confederate – though that begs the question of how he got in contact with one. Did he have any visitors?" Harry pulled his hair in frustration.

"Not according to the prison log. Also, a visitor – to anyone there – is rare enough that the guards would remember."

"What if he didn't need any help?" Bill asked, putting down the stack of notes he'd been flipping through.

"Malfoy is a good wizard, but nowhere nearly powerful enough to break those wards and then Apparate off the island," Minerva reminded him.

"You're forgetting something." He opened the notebook to the page he'd marked. "I have done some more experimenting, and I've successfully transferred magic essence from one Souljar to another. I chose Nott as the donor because he wasn't a powerful wizard, and I wanted to be careful. I added it to Lucius Malfoy's jar. I still can't believe he was a Death Eater! If he's ever restored, the extra magic will be some form of reparation."

"Magic essence?" Arthur asked.

"It's what McGaven calls the part of the mind / soul / whatever that makes a wizard into a wizard instead of a Muggle. I'd forgotten about that," Hermione answered.

"The point is, McGaven did something to Malfoy while he was in the jar to make him more powerful – and then we, with the best of intentions, restored him and..." Ron said.

"Let the genie escape," Snape finished. "Where is McGaven? We need to ask him about this."

"He probably doesn't remember any of it," Alastor Moody said. "He was thoroughly Obliviated."

"A little too thoroughly, from what I've seen," George put in. "He lost his job at the Ministry because he couldn't remember how to do basic tasks. He's not much better than a Squib now."

"We'd need permission from the Wizengamot to even attempt to undo the Obliviate," Rita pointed out. "And that's not likely to happen. They're terrified of the Soulstriking process being duplicated. I can't say I blame them."

"I spoke with Amelia Bones today," Kingsley said. "She's ordered an extra guard to keep an eye on Draco and Narcissa. She thinks Lucius will try to get them out the same way he did. And of course, we've got Aurors in Diagon Alley, and at Malfoy Manor."

"Too obvious," Harry opined. "Malfoy isn't stupid enough to go home, and I don't think he's stupid enough to be seen in public. I don't know if he'll try to get his family out or not."

"I agree with you," Kingsley answered, "but this is what the Minister ordered. I'm hoping that the Order of the Phoenix can come up with some more likely possibilities that can be quietly investigated. If we can find him, I can get the Aurors to take care of him."

"The Muggle World," Arthur suggested. "It would be the least likely place for him to be."

"He couldn't survive there," Bill scoffed. "He's one of those hoity-toity purebloods who's lost without half a dozen house-elves to take care of him."

That earned him an exasperated glare from Snape. "Lucius is both clever and adaptable, Mr. Weasley. I don't know what adding Nott's magic essence has done to him, but it will not do to underestimate him. If we are to find him, we must consider all possibilities."

"Who would be his most likely choice of confederate?" Hermione asked. "After Fudge's purging, there are only a few Death Eaters still at large. Half a dozen, or so, by my count."

"Most of those are minor players though," George said thoughtfully. "They'd be as likely to turn Malfoy in for a reward as to help him."

Bill drummed his fingers on the table. "Fenrir Greyback, maybe? He's not smart, but he's strong and cunning, and he was unquestionably loyal to Voldemort. And we have no idea where he is – there haven't been any reports of werewolf sightings lately."

"That's an excellent thought!" Kingsley agreed. "He was reported to have been at Glastonbury with Voldemort, but no one's seen him since."

"He was there," Molly said. "I threw a few curses his direction, but lost track of him." She looked at the floor. "I got distracted," she finished softly.

"I think we were all distracted, given the circumstances of that day," her husband replied gently. "And I think we're agreed that we should attempt to find Greyback."

"He's as dangerous as Malfoy, but in a different way," Minerva reminded them. "You're best off taking him with hexes from a distance. If he gets within arm's reach, it could be very bad." She didn't point out that they would need to keep an eye on the lunar calendar as well.

"Greyback's dangerous, no question," Moody grumbled. "But here's something: it's been months with no werewolf sightings, and nothing in the Muggle world either. So how's he managing while he's shape-changed? Someone's got to be helping him – either getting the Wolfsbane potion for him, or keeping him confined. Or maybe he's dead and we just haven't found his rotted corpse yet."

"To summarize," Rita said, looking at her notes, "We need to locate Lucius Malfoy, and identify anyone who has been aiding him. We also need to determine if Fenrir Greyback is alive or not, and locate him if the former. Someone should gently interrogate McGaven and see if he remembers anything about what he did to Malfoy's jar. In fact," she added, "we may want to see if we can come up with a job for him that won't feel like make-work. If he feels useful and grateful, he will be more inclined to help us."

"We're not going to try to get McGaven's Obliviate reversed?" Harry asked.

"Let's keep that as a last-ditch option," Arthur answered. "It could mean answering a lot of questions from the Minister and Wizengamot that we may not want to."

~*~

The Ministry of Magic had been focused for months on cleaning up the messes left behind by Cornelius Fudge. Fully two-thirds of its employees had been cronies of the now-deceased Minister or appointed by those cronies. All those had been fired; Amelia Bones was determined to make a new start. The punitive and self-serving laws Fudge had put in place were being struck down, and the revamp of the budget was in process. The Daily Prophet was being quite helpful in calming the populace.

Now the Minister felt free to turn a portion of her attention to the minor issues that had gone unattended for so long. There wouldn't be any trouble about getting legislation passed; these days, everyone at the Ministry was quite cooperative. Malcontents were quickly identified and quietly transferred into non-essential roles. There weren't very many. "We cannot afford to be fighting among ourselves," Amelia had announced when she first took office. "If you are unable to work together, with me, to make our world a better place, it is best you find a new situation."

She summoned several rolls of new parchment, her specially-Charmed quills, and thought about where to begin. "Begin at the beginning," she said to herself. "It's obvious that some people are not doing their jobs properly." She waved her wand and the quills quivered as rolls of parchment uncurled under them. "It is the opinion of the Minister that the actions of Thomas Riddle, Cornelius Fudge, and their sympathizers (colloquially known as Death Eaters) would not have taken place had Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft been properly supervised. Therefore..."