Blind Beauty
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
36
Views:
40,009
Reviews:
227
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
36
Views:
40,009
Reviews:
227
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Blind Truth
Chapter Number/Total: 10/36
Chapter Title: Blind Truth
Words: 2616 Words
Order members sat with Harry around the clock, taking turns socialising with him. Even when he was asleep, someone was there. Harry found that he still slept a lot and everyone said that was normal. Hermione and Ron were there every day for at least one shift.
Two days after his talk with Tonks, he woke up to find a mediwizard waiting to talk with him. "Morning, Mr Potter," a stranger's voice said, and he introduced himself as Mediwizard Frantz.
"Good morning," Harry replied politely, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.
"How do your eyes feel today?" Frantz asked.
"Fine." He blinked, already used to the darkness by now. "I still can't see."
"Any light?" he asked.
"Nothing. It's dark," he answered, fiddling with the sheets.
"Do you have any idea what spell was used to create this effect?" Frantz asked. "Were you conscious when it happened?"
"I don't know. I woke up like this," he murmured, his throat dry. "Can I have some water please?"
"Certainly, Mr Potter," he said. "There is a glass beside your bed."
Harry gritted his teeth when it wasn't handed it to him, turning to where he knew the glass was. He took a chance and reached out his fingers lightly, touching the glass before he curled his fingers around it and picked it up. He drank a few mouthfuls before he set it down.
"We are still unable to identify the spell or a way to reverse the effect," Frantz explained. "If you are going to be released from here, you will need to learn to function without your sight indefinitely."
Harry went back to pulling at the sheets, shaking his head at what he said. "There has to be a way," he said softly.
"We will continue to work on the problem," Frantz said. "In the meantime, all of your other injuries have healed. In fact, the external wounds were surprisingly minor."
"Are there any scars?" Harry asked.
"There shouldn't be," he said. "All of the external injuries were surface wounds, with no depth. It surprised us actually."
Harry nodded, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. Draco wouldn't have left any, he thought. "What do you mean by function without my sight?"
"Well, until such time as it returns, you will need to learn how to manage without it," Frantz said, "and there is also the issue of your wand."
"What about my wand?" he asked, turning to look up at the mediwizard.
"It has not been recovered," Frantz said. "You may have to obtain a new one."
Harry expected that. He nodded, burying his face in his knees. "Fine."
There was a long pause. "Your friends have assured us that you will have people who can care for you if we release you," he said. "Is that what you want?"
He wanted more than that. "Yes, that's what I want."
"We are somewhat concerned about releasing you because of the possible emotional effects of this kind of trauma," he explained.
"I'm fine," Harry murmured softly, not lifting his head up.
"Mr Potter, what you have been through would be traumatic for anyone," the man said kindly.
"And I said I'm fine," he whispered, biting his lip.
"I understand," the man said. "Let us know if there is anything we can do."
Harry nodded, hugging his knees. "When can I go?"
"Technically, you are free to leave whenever you want," Frantz said. "Although, we will want to see that you have someone to help care for your needs until you can get a new wand and learn to manage on your own."
Harry's arms tightened, his nails digging into the skin of his legs; he winced slightly, but didn't move them. "Okay. I'll learn to manage on my own," he replied.
The man excused himself and Harry heard him leave, then there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Harry answered, beginning to scratch roughly at his legs. The pain seemed to make this all real.
"Harry, dear," said Mrs Weasley and then she was hugging him.
Harry stiffened slightly, always uncomfortable in her hugs. "Hello, Mrs Weasley."
"Oh, you look so much better," she said when she let go.
"Hello, Harry," said Mr Weasley from somewhere behind her.
"Hello, Mr Weasley," he added when he heard his voice as well. He pulled his hands away from his legs and let them fall by his sides. "How're you both?"
"We're fine, Harry," Mrs Weasley said. "We came to see if you wanted to come back to the Burrow. They said they would release you if you wanted."
"I want to leave," he answered, nodding. "Will you take me today?"
"That's fine, Harry," Mr Weasley answered. "Do you want to go now?"
He nodded, stretching his legs out. "Yes, please."
"I'll go arrange it then," he said and left the room. There was an awkward silence for a minute. "Everyone has been so worried about you," Mrs Weasley said.
"I'm sorry," he replied softly, running a hand through his hair. It was longer than he remembered. "Do I have clothes?"
"Oh," she said, "yes. Remus brought them from the house." She laid them on the bed, next to him. "Do you need someone to help you dress?"
"N-no," he stuttered, surprised by the question. At least he didn't think so.
"Well, we'll be by the door if you need anything or when you are ready," she said and left the room.
Harry slipped off the bed and stood up, the floor cold under his feet. He pulled off the gown they'd given him and picked up the shirt Remus had left. It was easy to pull that on, but when it came to the jeans, he had a hard time. He ended up falling back on the bed with his legs in the air. "God," he muttered, finally getting his other leg into the jeans.
There was a knock on the door again.
Harry sat up, smoothing his hands over the jeans. "Yes?"
"Harry, you managing in there?" Mr Weasley asked. "We have things arranged when you are ready."
"I don't have shoes," he answered, getting up again.
"On the floor," Mrs Weasley called from the doorway.
Harry bit his lip. "Where?"
Harry heard the door open and footsteps. "Here you go," said Mr Weasley, picking them up and handing them to him.
"Thank you," he whispered, sitting back down on the bed and slipping them on. Luckily, there were no laces to tie. "I'm ready."
"Take my arm, Harry," Mr Weasley said.
Harry reached out and gripped the sleeve of his shirt, getting up again.
They led him through the building to the Floo point, Mrs Weasley chatting about the family and what everyone had been up to.
Harry was hardly listening, only nodding when he was supposed to. He wished he could walk without holding on to someone.
"I will go ahead and Molly will follow you," Mr Weasley said. Harry felt someone press Floo powder into his hand. "Can you handle that?"
Harry nodded, squeezing the powder in his hand. "That's fine."
Then it was his turn and it wasn't much different than before, but without the confusing images. Mr Weasley took his hand at the other end and helped him out.
Harry wanted to pull his hand away, but he didn't, knowing that he was only trying to help him.
"Welcome back, mate," Ron said enthusiastically and was joined by a chorus of other voices welcoming him.
Harry smiled the best he could, trying to say hello back to everyone. He took a chance and walked forward a bit. "Ron?" he asked, when everyone's voices had lowered.
"Yeah, here," he said. "Wanna sit down?"
He nodded, carefully shuffling forward again. He hoped there wasn't anyone or anything to trip over.
He heard some shuffling as people moved for him. He felt a soft hand on his and Ginny's voice, nearly cracking with emotion. "We are so glad you're safe, Harry," she said. Her hand guided his to the back of an empty kitchen chair.
Harry sat down with a sigh. "How are all of you?" he asked. He probably asked them that same thing every time they visited, but at least it kept the subject off of him.
"I have a scar," Ron said in a tone that sounded proud and Harry heard what sounded like a snort from someone.
Harry grinned and laughed, shaking his head. "I'm proud of you, Ron!"
"Nothing compared to what you did," someone, maybe one of the twins, said.
Harry's smiled faltered and he looked down with a slight shrug. "I guess so."
"Ok, enough of that," Mrs Weasley said. "Let's eat dinner."
Harry rested his hands on the table. He wanted to eat on his own, he decided, with no help from anyone. It was the only way he'd learn.
It was noisy at the table as always, but Harry found it a little harder to track who was talking. He never realised how much the Weasleys sounded alike. Mrs Weasley had apparently filled his plate and cut his meat already, but didn't try to feed him.
Harry picked up the fork next to his plate and began to eat, never knowing what he was picking up. It was always like a little surprise when there was a piece of meat or potato. He relaxed after a while, the sounds of their voices reminding him of normalcy.
Later, Ron showed him the way up the stairs to the room they shared. He was quieter than usual.
"You don't have to be so quiet, Ron," he mumbled, sitting down on his bed.
"I know," he said, sounding a bit distant. "I just ... well, I don't know what to say about it."
"Then you don't have to say anything about it," he replied, sighing. "Hey, Ron, did Tonks say anything about Malfoy?" he asked quietly, hoping Ron wouldn't freak out. He hadn't asked in a while, and he needed to know.
Ron was quiet for a minute. "She has been asking lots of questions about him," he said. "Like what we saw when we arrived and did he say anything to us, stuff like that."
"Did he say anything?" he asked, sitting up straighter.
"Blimey, Harry," Ron said, "I didn't even know it was him and all I remember is the screaming. He was a mess."
"Why was he screaming ... was he hurt?"
Again the long silence and then a kind of hoarse, "Yeah, you could say that."
Harry didn't like that silence. "What happened? You tell me right now, Ron!"
"I know he deserved it and all," Ron said, "but still, it just reminded me too much ... of that night in the tower, and Bill."
Harry shook his head, feeling tears well up in his eyes again. Fenrir got to him. "He wasn't supposed to get hurt," he whispered.
Ron continued like he hadn't heard him. "It took most of the Order to take down Fenrir. That's how some of the others got away."
Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and began to rock back and forth, tears falling from his eyes. "No ... take him out of Azkaban."
"Harry?" Ron asked, sounding worried. "I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have said anything. I told you I don't know what to say."
Harry cried harder, turning away from Ron. He gripped his hair, fingers tightening. "Take him out," he repeated, hardly understandable through all his sobs.
Ron made a sound. "Should I get Mum? Or Ginny?" he asked.
"Draco," he cried, pushing his face into the pillow on the bed. It was all his fault. He shouldn't have pushed Draco back like he did.
Harry heard Ron leave the room and a few minutes later there was an arm around his shoulder and the familiar scent of Ginny. "Harry," she said.
Harry buried his face in her neck, gripping her shirt. "You h-have to get him out," he stuttered.
"Shh, Harry, it's okay," she said. "You're safe now." She stroked his head and rocked him.
"No, he isn't ...." He tried to push her away, shaking his head. "Listen to me."
"You killed the Monster," Ginny said. "He can't hurt anyone anymore."
Harry froze. "What?" he whispered, heart speeding up.
"V-Voldemort is dead," she soothed, still holding him. "You destroyed him; you can go on with your life now."
"No, I don't want to. I need Draco, please, Ginny, listen ..." he whispered quickly.
He felt her stiffen and pull back a bit, looking at him. "Harry, he has been punished for what he did," she said.
"He didn't do anything!" Harry yelled.
She sat up a bit more and he felt her hand on his cheek. "Harry, he was a Death Eater and he has confessed to his crimes."
"He didn't have a choice!" He pushed her hand away and pulled his knees up to his chest again. "Why are you all doing this?"
"Harry, we are just trying to help you," she answered.
"Yeah," Ron added, "we are here for you. You know that."
"If you really were, you'd listen to me," he mumbled, rubbing his face against his jeans.
"Okay, Harry," Ginny said. "Explain it to us."
"He only did it because I asked him to. I would've been dead if it wasn't for his help," he murmured.
"Who?" Ron asked.
"Draco!"
"Malfoy?" both of them asked at once.
"Yes!" he exclaimed.
After a pause, Ginny asked, "Do you feel like talking about what happened?"
"I don't know. Don't you both already know what happened?" he asked softly.
"Ginny wasn't there," Ron said, "but I was. I came in with the Aurors."
"I have heard Mum and Dad talking," she said. "And I have guessed some of it, I think."
"I was tortured, but it was all an act," he said quietly.
"An act?" Ginny sounded dubious.
"You know I have learned to believe you, Harry," Ron said, "but that looked pretty real to me."
"Yes, but he was helping me. The only way for me to be close enough to Voldemort ... was to go on according to what he wanted Draco to do with me in the first place."
"Why would Malfoy help you?" Ron asked.
Harry looked down. "Because he wanted to," he lied.
Ginny sighed and Ron was silent.
"That doesn't matter. He helped me and he doesn't deserve to be in Azkaban!" he said loudly, digging his fingernails into his legs again.
He felt Ginny's hands on his. "Please, Harry," she said, pulling his hands back. "We are trying to help. To understand."
"No." He pulled his hands away, gripping his legs again. "You're not trying hard enough."
"Harry," Ginny said sternly, "what can we do? You tell us he was trying to help you. But he confessed. What are we supposed to do to help?"
"Take him out, please ... just listen to me ..." he whispered, beginning to rock again.
Ron groaned, and Harry could hear him falling back onto his bed. Ginny sighed again. "Harry, even if we believed you, which is hard, though you are usually right, how would we get him out?" she asked.
"I don't mean break him out illegally ... give him a proper trial ... with me there. I'll show them my memories, I don't care."
"I think you would have to have something more than that, Harry," she said. "Remember, memories can be changed."
"I'll talk under Veritaserum," he replied quickly.
"Let's talk to Tonks and Remus tomorrow," she said.
He nodded and rubbed at his eyes, feeling exhausted.
Chapter Title: Blind Truth
Words: 2616 Words
Order members sat with Harry around the clock, taking turns socialising with him. Even when he was asleep, someone was there. Harry found that he still slept a lot and everyone said that was normal. Hermione and Ron were there every day for at least one shift.
Two days after his talk with Tonks, he woke up to find a mediwizard waiting to talk with him. "Morning, Mr Potter," a stranger's voice said, and he introduced himself as Mediwizard Frantz.
"Good morning," Harry replied politely, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.
"How do your eyes feel today?" Frantz asked.
"Fine." He blinked, already used to the darkness by now. "I still can't see."
"Any light?" he asked.
"Nothing. It's dark," he answered, fiddling with the sheets.
"Do you have any idea what spell was used to create this effect?" Frantz asked. "Were you conscious when it happened?"
"I don't know. I woke up like this," he murmured, his throat dry. "Can I have some water please?"
"Certainly, Mr Potter," he said. "There is a glass beside your bed."
Harry gritted his teeth when it wasn't handed it to him, turning to where he knew the glass was. He took a chance and reached out his fingers lightly, touching the glass before he curled his fingers around it and picked it up. He drank a few mouthfuls before he set it down.
"We are still unable to identify the spell or a way to reverse the effect," Frantz explained. "If you are going to be released from here, you will need to learn to function without your sight indefinitely."
Harry went back to pulling at the sheets, shaking his head at what he said. "There has to be a way," he said softly.
"We will continue to work on the problem," Frantz said. "In the meantime, all of your other injuries have healed. In fact, the external wounds were surprisingly minor."
"Are there any scars?" Harry asked.
"There shouldn't be," he said. "All of the external injuries were surface wounds, with no depth. It surprised us actually."
Harry nodded, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. Draco wouldn't have left any, he thought. "What do you mean by function without my sight?"
"Well, until such time as it returns, you will need to learn how to manage without it," Frantz said, "and there is also the issue of your wand."
"What about my wand?" he asked, turning to look up at the mediwizard.
"It has not been recovered," Frantz said. "You may have to obtain a new one."
Harry expected that. He nodded, burying his face in his knees. "Fine."
There was a long pause. "Your friends have assured us that you will have people who can care for you if we release you," he said. "Is that what you want?"
He wanted more than that. "Yes, that's what I want."
"We are somewhat concerned about releasing you because of the possible emotional effects of this kind of trauma," he explained.
"I'm fine," Harry murmured softly, not lifting his head up.
"Mr Potter, what you have been through would be traumatic for anyone," the man said kindly.
"And I said I'm fine," he whispered, biting his lip.
"I understand," the man said. "Let us know if there is anything we can do."
Harry nodded, hugging his knees. "When can I go?"
"Technically, you are free to leave whenever you want," Frantz said. "Although, we will want to see that you have someone to help care for your needs until you can get a new wand and learn to manage on your own."
Harry's arms tightened, his nails digging into the skin of his legs; he winced slightly, but didn't move them. "Okay. I'll learn to manage on my own," he replied.
The man excused himself and Harry heard him leave, then there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Harry answered, beginning to scratch roughly at his legs. The pain seemed to make this all real.
"Harry, dear," said Mrs Weasley and then she was hugging him.
Harry stiffened slightly, always uncomfortable in her hugs. "Hello, Mrs Weasley."
"Oh, you look so much better," she said when she let go.
"Hello, Harry," said Mr Weasley from somewhere behind her.
"Hello, Mr Weasley," he added when he heard his voice as well. He pulled his hands away from his legs and let them fall by his sides. "How're you both?"
"We're fine, Harry," Mrs Weasley said. "We came to see if you wanted to come back to the Burrow. They said they would release you if you wanted."
"I want to leave," he answered, nodding. "Will you take me today?"
"That's fine, Harry," Mr Weasley answered. "Do you want to go now?"
He nodded, stretching his legs out. "Yes, please."
"I'll go arrange it then," he said and left the room. There was an awkward silence for a minute. "Everyone has been so worried about you," Mrs Weasley said.
"I'm sorry," he replied softly, running a hand through his hair. It was longer than he remembered. "Do I have clothes?"
"Oh," she said, "yes. Remus brought them from the house." She laid them on the bed, next to him. "Do you need someone to help you dress?"
"N-no," he stuttered, surprised by the question. At least he didn't think so.
"Well, we'll be by the door if you need anything or when you are ready," she said and left the room.
Harry slipped off the bed and stood up, the floor cold under his feet. He pulled off the gown they'd given him and picked up the shirt Remus had left. It was easy to pull that on, but when it came to the jeans, he had a hard time. He ended up falling back on the bed with his legs in the air. "God," he muttered, finally getting his other leg into the jeans.
There was a knock on the door again.
Harry sat up, smoothing his hands over the jeans. "Yes?"
"Harry, you managing in there?" Mr Weasley asked. "We have things arranged when you are ready."
"I don't have shoes," he answered, getting up again.
"On the floor," Mrs Weasley called from the doorway.
Harry bit his lip. "Where?"
Harry heard the door open and footsteps. "Here you go," said Mr Weasley, picking them up and handing them to him.
"Thank you," he whispered, sitting back down on the bed and slipping them on. Luckily, there were no laces to tie. "I'm ready."
"Take my arm, Harry," Mr Weasley said.
Harry reached out and gripped the sleeve of his shirt, getting up again.
They led him through the building to the Floo point, Mrs Weasley chatting about the family and what everyone had been up to.
Harry was hardly listening, only nodding when he was supposed to. He wished he could walk without holding on to someone.
"I will go ahead and Molly will follow you," Mr Weasley said. Harry felt someone press Floo powder into his hand. "Can you handle that?"
Harry nodded, squeezing the powder in his hand. "That's fine."
Then it was his turn and it wasn't much different than before, but without the confusing images. Mr Weasley took his hand at the other end and helped him out.
Harry wanted to pull his hand away, but he didn't, knowing that he was only trying to help him.
"Welcome back, mate," Ron said enthusiastically and was joined by a chorus of other voices welcoming him.
Harry smiled the best he could, trying to say hello back to everyone. He took a chance and walked forward a bit. "Ron?" he asked, when everyone's voices had lowered.
"Yeah, here," he said. "Wanna sit down?"
He nodded, carefully shuffling forward again. He hoped there wasn't anyone or anything to trip over.
He heard some shuffling as people moved for him. He felt a soft hand on his and Ginny's voice, nearly cracking with emotion. "We are so glad you're safe, Harry," she said. Her hand guided his to the back of an empty kitchen chair.
Harry sat down with a sigh. "How are all of you?" he asked. He probably asked them that same thing every time they visited, but at least it kept the subject off of him.
"I have a scar," Ron said in a tone that sounded proud and Harry heard what sounded like a snort from someone.
Harry grinned and laughed, shaking his head. "I'm proud of you, Ron!"
"Nothing compared to what you did," someone, maybe one of the twins, said.
Harry's smiled faltered and he looked down with a slight shrug. "I guess so."
"Ok, enough of that," Mrs Weasley said. "Let's eat dinner."
Harry rested his hands on the table. He wanted to eat on his own, he decided, with no help from anyone. It was the only way he'd learn.
It was noisy at the table as always, but Harry found it a little harder to track who was talking. He never realised how much the Weasleys sounded alike. Mrs Weasley had apparently filled his plate and cut his meat already, but didn't try to feed him.
Harry picked up the fork next to his plate and began to eat, never knowing what he was picking up. It was always like a little surprise when there was a piece of meat or potato. He relaxed after a while, the sounds of their voices reminding him of normalcy.
Later, Ron showed him the way up the stairs to the room they shared. He was quieter than usual.
"You don't have to be so quiet, Ron," he mumbled, sitting down on his bed.
"I know," he said, sounding a bit distant. "I just ... well, I don't know what to say about it."
"Then you don't have to say anything about it," he replied, sighing. "Hey, Ron, did Tonks say anything about Malfoy?" he asked quietly, hoping Ron wouldn't freak out. He hadn't asked in a while, and he needed to know.
Ron was quiet for a minute. "She has been asking lots of questions about him," he said. "Like what we saw when we arrived and did he say anything to us, stuff like that."
"Did he say anything?" he asked, sitting up straighter.
"Blimey, Harry," Ron said, "I didn't even know it was him and all I remember is the screaming. He was a mess."
"Why was he screaming ... was he hurt?"
Again the long silence and then a kind of hoarse, "Yeah, you could say that."
Harry didn't like that silence. "What happened? You tell me right now, Ron!"
"I know he deserved it and all," Ron said, "but still, it just reminded me too much ... of that night in the tower, and Bill."
Harry shook his head, feeling tears well up in his eyes again. Fenrir got to him. "He wasn't supposed to get hurt," he whispered.
Ron continued like he hadn't heard him. "It took most of the Order to take down Fenrir. That's how some of the others got away."
Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and began to rock back and forth, tears falling from his eyes. "No ... take him out of Azkaban."
"Harry?" Ron asked, sounding worried. "I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have said anything. I told you I don't know what to say."
Harry cried harder, turning away from Ron. He gripped his hair, fingers tightening. "Take him out," he repeated, hardly understandable through all his sobs.
Ron made a sound. "Should I get Mum? Or Ginny?" he asked.
"Draco," he cried, pushing his face into the pillow on the bed. It was all his fault. He shouldn't have pushed Draco back like he did.
Harry heard Ron leave the room and a few minutes later there was an arm around his shoulder and the familiar scent of Ginny. "Harry," she said.
Harry buried his face in her neck, gripping her shirt. "You h-have to get him out," he stuttered.
"Shh, Harry, it's okay," she said. "You're safe now." She stroked his head and rocked him.
"No, he isn't ...." He tried to push her away, shaking his head. "Listen to me."
"You killed the Monster," Ginny said. "He can't hurt anyone anymore."
Harry froze. "What?" he whispered, heart speeding up.
"V-Voldemort is dead," she soothed, still holding him. "You destroyed him; you can go on with your life now."
"No, I don't want to. I need Draco, please, Ginny, listen ..." he whispered quickly.
He felt her stiffen and pull back a bit, looking at him. "Harry, he has been punished for what he did," she said.
"He didn't do anything!" Harry yelled.
She sat up a bit more and he felt her hand on his cheek. "Harry, he was a Death Eater and he has confessed to his crimes."
"He didn't have a choice!" He pushed her hand away and pulled his knees up to his chest again. "Why are you all doing this?"
"Harry, we are just trying to help you," she answered.
"Yeah," Ron added, "we are here for you. You know that."
"If you really were, you'd listen to me," he mumbled, rubbing his face against his jeans.
"Okay, Harry," Ginny said. "Explain it to us."
"He only did it because I asked him to. I would've been dead if it wasn't for his help," he murmured.
"Who?" Ron asked.
"Draco!"
"Malfoy?" both of them asked at once.
"Yes!" he exclaimed.
After a pause, Ginny asked, "Do you feel like talking about what happened?"
"I don't know. Don't you both already know what happened?" he asked softly.
"Ginny wasn't there," Ron said, "but I was. I came in with the Aurors."
"I have heard Mum and Dad talking," she said. "And I have guessed some of it, I think."
"I was tortured, but it was all an act," he said quietly.
"An act?" Ginny sounded dubious.
"You know I have learned to believe you, Harry," Ron said, "but that looked pretty real to me."
"Yes, but he was helping me. The only way for me to be close enough to Voldemort ... was to go on according to what he wanted Draco to do with me in the first place."
"Why would Malfoy help you?" Ron asked.
Harry looked down. "Because he wanted to," he lied.
Ginny sighed and Ron was silent.
"That doesn't matter. He helped me and he doesn't deserve to be in Azkaban!" he said loudly, digging his fingernails into his legs again.
He felt Ginny's hands on his. "Please, Harry," she said, pulling his hands back. "We are trying to help. To understand."
"No." He pulled his hands away, gripping his legs again. "You're not trying hard enough."
"Harry," Ginny said sternly, "what can we do? You tell us he was trying to help you. But he confessed. What are we supposed to do to help?"
"Take him out, please ... just listen to me ..." he whispered, beginning to rock again.
Ron groaned, and Harry could hear him falling back onto his bed. Ginny sighed again. "Harry, even if we believed you, which is hard, though you are usually right, how would we get him out?" she asked.
"I don't mean break him out illegally ... give him a proper trial ... with me there. I'll show them my memories, I don't care."
"I think you would have to have something more than that, Harry," she said. "Remember, memories can be changed."
"I'll talk under Veritaserum," he replied quickly.
"Let's talk to Tonks and Remus tomorrow," she said.
He nodded and rubbed at his eyes, feeling exhausted.