Chapter 13

Two days went by. Two long, lonely days filled with nothing but idle chatter from the guards around me and the occasional satisfying piss. No Ron, no news, no nothing. But on the third day, a familiar face came walking down the corridor toward me.

“Hermione!” I said, grateful to have anyone besides myself to talk to.

“Shh,” she said, passing me a packet of cigarettes through the bars. “I don't know if you're allowed to have these, but I figured you could use them.” She smiled wanly. “How are you holding up?”

“About as well as can be expected,” I said, fingering the cigs longingly. “I'm so glad to see you. Is there any word?”

“Well, I'm sure that no one's bothered to tell you that Tonks has been awake for a few days now. She seems to be doing just fine,” Hermione said with a smile.

“Oh, thank Merlin! That's wonderful news,” I said. “Does she remember what happened? Who attacked her?”

“That's the disturbing thing, Harry,” she said with a worried look on her face. “She says she must have been dreaming about Teddy or something, because she swears that when she realized what was happening, she looked around and saw him. But she thinks that her brain is a bit addled from the beating, or that the concussion has confused her dreams with what really happened.”

“Must have done,” I mused. “Because Teddy's still comatose, yeah?”

“Yes, although the mediwizards think they may have figured out what poison it was, or at least, the general type of poison,” she continued. “Apparently it's a very lethal version of some new experimental drug for treating amnesia or something like that. It's a really new and not widely known drug, so they had no idea how to test for it, let alone to even look for it in the first place.”

“So, can they fix it? Can they cure him?”

“They're working on it, but the problem with dealing with new things like this is that no one knows anything about them, and administering the wrong course of treatments could be fatal. He's not in any danger as he is, so they're taking it slowly so as not to do any more damage,” she said.

“Oh, I see,” I said a bit dejectedly. Still, it was a step in the right direction, hopefully. “Do you believe me, Hermione?” I asked quietly.

“Of course I do, Harry,” she said, staring directly into my eyes, never blinking. “I know you'd never hurt Remus, or Tonks, or Teddy, and there is just no way that any family fortune, no matter how big it is, would ever cause you to act like that.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” I said simply and sincerely.

“Besides, Ron and I were sitting with Tonks the other day.” She paused, biting her lip and looking at me. “She was very confused for a while, Harry, and I think Robards may have been in to talk with her, to question her at some point. Anyway, I definitely got the feeling that maybe she was starting to doubt you.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but she waved her hand at me. “Hold on, Harry, hold on, let me finish. I said starting to doubt you, not that she definitely did. But when she started talking with us about this whole idea of the family fortune motive, we ... well, she and Ron ... realized something. Harry, even if the Malfoys were dead, which they are, and Remus, Tonks, and Teddy were also dead, you still wouldn't be the next in line for the Black fortune,” she said.

“What?” I asked, perplexed. “But I'm Teddy's godfather, and Sirius's godson. Robards said that—”

“Oh, pish-tosh. Robards doesn't know what we know,” she said dismissively. “Ron and Tonks were talking about the Black family tree, and Ron reminded us that technically, the Weasleys are related through both Arthur and Molly to the Blacks ... and they're related by blood, Harry. Their lineage trumps your status. Any one of the Weasleys would be able to press their claim to the money.”

“But ... but that eliminates my motive completely,” I said excitedly.

“You're bloody right it does,” Hermione said firmly.

“And Tonks ... she believes me now?”

“I don't think she ever really truly doubted you, Harry, but this has been an extremely stressful time, and I think ... I think she was more confused over her feelings for you than any sort of belief that you'd suddenly turned into a baddie,” Hermione said.

I smiled, a secret, safe little smile. But something else was bothering me. “Hermione, go back a second. So, obviously the fact that the Weasleys would inherit over me eliminates my supposed motive,” I said.

“Right,” she replied. “But … ?”

“But then, who would want to set me up? Who could possibly gain from making Robards think that that was my motive? I mean, it's not like any of the Weasleys would do that to me, even if they wanted the Black fortune themselves.”

Her brow furrowed. “You're right, Harry. Clearly, someone out there believes that you're the only candidate left ... but who?”

The guards began stirring, motioning to her that her time was up. “Look, Harry, I'll go to Ron and Tonks with this. Maybe they'll think of something again. Someone will be back to see you soon, I promise!” she said, hurriedly moving toward the hallway. “Take care of yourself, Harry! We love you!”

It was times like these that I wished I hadn't destroyed the Black family tree tapestry, but I never could have imagined it proving useful in my defense. So I had nothing to do for another few days except ponder who could possibly gain from framing me.