Close To Truth

Harry stifled a yawn and smiled sheepishly at Sally-Ann. “Sorry. I always seem to be exhausted when I’m meeting with you.”

“Under the circumstances, I’m not surprised,” Sally-Ann replied with a sad smile. “Speaking of which, I know that Terry and Padma should really be here since we’re working together on the Memory Charm problem, but Padma was too tired to join us.”

“That’s okay, I expected she would be after spending the first part of the day watching Neville with Parvati. Terry, Susan and Lee all went to take over watching the shop so Dean, Alicia and Katie could get some rest, so I guess it’s just us,” Harry told her. “Are the three of you all caught up with each other, at least?”

“Yes, nothing changed since- since last night,” Sally-Ann said. She hesitated a second. “Harry…are we in any serious danger right now? Is V-V-Voldemort likely to launch an attack?”

“No,” Harry said quickly. “We considered everything and it just makes no sense for him to come after us now. He’s hurt, and he knows we’ll have had time to prepare for an attack—”

“Wait—he’s hurt?” Sally-Ann interrupted, her eyes wide. “You injured Voldemort?”

Harry stared at her blankly and then grimaced. “Sorry, I thought everyone had heard what happened,” he said. “Everyone ended up over at the MacMillan mansion, after all…Well, Peter Pettigrew—remember, I told all of you about him?—he did it. He grabbed Voldemort’s wand arm with the silver hand Voldemort gave him; it crushed the arm badly.”

“Did he do it on purpose?” Sally-Ann asked.

“What?”

“Did Pettigrew injure Voldemort on purpose?” Sally-Ann asked again.

“I…I don’t know,” Harry said finally. “He definitely tried to stop Voldemort from casting the Killing Curse…but I’m not sure if he meant to injure Voldemort.” He shook his head. “It’s probably not important right now; Pettigrew died.”

“It might be important,” Sally-Ann corrected, sounding excited. “You said the hand that crushed Voldemort’s arm, he created himself?” Harry nodded. “Spells or curses that rebound on the caster often have permanent effects, Harry! It’s possible the same thing might be true in this situation!”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “You mean that Voldemort’s arm might be permanently crushed?”

“It’s possible,” Sally-Ann insisted. “I read about one instance where some man cast a Charm to give his old, toothless dog some steel fangs; the dog bit him, and the bite never healed, no matter what anyone tried. I don’t see how we could know about Voldemort’s arm without first-hand proof, since from what I remember of your description the casting was probably unique, but it’s something to bear in mind; Voldemort may well have permanently lost the use of his wand arm!”

Harry gaped at her before shaking his head. “We can’t assume that,” he said firmly. “In fact, we have to assume that he’s healed it already. Don’t say anything about it to anyone. If he is hurt permanently, great, but I don’t want anyone thinking he’s less dangerous; even hurt, he’s still more powerful than anyone in the world.”

Sally-Ann sagged a bit. “Yes, that’s true. All right, I won’t mention it.”

“But I will look into it,” Harry assured her. “If we have any way of finding out, we will. It could be really important.” Sally-Ann nodded. “So I—oh Merlin,” he exclaimed, all the blood rushing out of his cheeks. Sally-Ann turned as Harry leapt to his feet; through the see-through door, he’d seen Lee running toward them. Harry threw the door open. “Lee! What is it? An attack? Is everything—”

“No Harry, don’t worry!” Lee said quickly, waving his hands. “It’s nothing bad—or I don’t think it is, anyway. The Weasleys are in the shop. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Charlie too, and Professor Lupin is with them!”

“Oh, good,” Harry answered, letting out a long breath. “It’s okay, Lee, I asked Ron to see if Charlie would come over; he knows some really good defensive Charms to put on the shop. And I owled Lupin for the same reason. I guess Mr. and Mrs. Weasley decided to come over and see Ron and Ginny. What did you say to them when they found you there?”

“I told them me and Susan were guarding the shop out of loyalty to Fred and George, and that Terry had come over to say hi,” Lee answered. “I wasn’t sure if they knew about all of us…”

“They don’t, and we don’t want them to, so that was a good decision,” Harry told him. “As far as the Weasleys and Lupin know, it’s just me, Ron and Ginny, Hermione, and the twins—and maybe Luna and Angelina. Well, and you now since you came to get me.”

Lee shook his head. “I said you were upstairs in the flat above the shop,” he said.

“Well that’s fine for Charlie and Professor Lupin, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley know about the House of Black, so they’ll probably figure out you came to get me here. It’s okay for them to know that, but I think we want to keep everything else as secret as possible for now. Will you go and get Ginny, Ron and Hermione? Ginny and Pansy are in the practice room teaching some hexes to Cho and Justin; Ron and Hermione should be in their room. And when you all get there, make sure to ask Lupin and all of the Weasleys questions only they would know the answers to,” he added. “Just to make sure they’re who they say they are; they should understand and go along. And tell them I’m…er, showering, and I’ll come over in a bit.”

“Sure,” Lee said, looking relieved that the visit from the Weasleys didn’t presage any disaster, and headed upstairs to find Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

“I’m glad you have some people coming in to help with protective Charms,” Sally-Ann said to Harry as he shut the door. “Not that I don’t trust yours, but…”

“I wouldn’t trust anyone but Dumbledore’s to stand up to Voldemort,” Harry agreed. “But the more we put up, the more it’ll take to get through them, and that might buy us some time when we really need it.” He sat down again. “Er…where were we?”

“We haven’t talked about the Memory Charm yet,” Sally-Ann prompted. “Terry and Padma are busy or tired so we can’t work on it together at the moment, and I didn’t want to proceed without them—and anyway I thought I’d better talk to you before we did anything else; we might have hit an impasse.”

Harry frowned. “What’s that?”

“Our research has found that the method of undoing a Memory Charm is only accessible to Healers and Healer students,” Sally-Ann said. “It’s very complicated, and only those specially trained are supposed to do it.”

“Wait a minute,” Harry said. “I thought Padma said before that only the person who cast the original Memory Charm could undo it!”

“Terry, Padma and I went back through all our old Charms notes,” Sally-Ann said.

“You still have those?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Well, of course! You don’t expect us to just toss out all that knowledge, do you?”

Harry chuckled. “Well, I bet I have mine around somewhere, but it’d probably take me a week just to find them. Okay, so what did your notes say?”

“We had only partially remembered what Professor Flitwick had told us,” Sally-Ann continued, looking embarrassed. “In actuality, I think what he was saying was that if anyone other than a Healer were going to try to undo the Charm, it should be the one who cast it, for preference. And even then it’s only recommended that wizards extremely gifted at Charms even consider attempting. Even when a Healer does it they prefer to have the caster at hand, if possible, to ask questions about the missing memories as they work.”

Harry considered that. “It sounds like you’re saying it would be a really bad idea for me to try to restore Neville’s memory,” he said dejectedly. “I’m not exactly gifted at Charms.”

“You got an Exceeds Expectations on your Charms OWL, didn’t you?” Sally-Ann countered. “And you taught plenty of Charms and hexes to the D.A. I think you’re probably all right, so long as you practice a lot before you actually try it. That’s assuming, of course, that we can figure out how to do it, which seems very unlikely since…well, no one ever writes it down.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “How is that possible?”

“Whatever it is that the Healers do, they only teach to each other, or to those deemed responsible and capable of handling it by the Ministry,” Sally-Ann explained. “There is no written version anywhere for us to…um, borrow. In order to learn the technique we would have to convince a Healer to teach it to us.” She shook her head, clearly frustrated. “And even that would be rather difficult, because the records of which Healers know the technique are locked away in the Improper Use of Magic Office at the Ministry, and only three people have access to them.”

Harry whistled. “They’re really keeping those records secret, aren’t they? It doesn’t sound like we’re going to be able to get our hands on them.” Harry drummed his fingers on the table. “Maybe you should check the library here in the house. The Blacks weren’t exactly the most law-abiding people…maybe some ancestor cheated and wrote it down?”

“We, um…we already did,” Sally-Ann admitted, going a bit red. “That occurred to us, and we didn’t think you’d mind. But it’s not the sort of thing you’d leave out and risk someone noticing—there’s a minimum two-year sentence in Azkaban just for having a written version, even if you’re approved to know it—so unfortunately, it wasn’t there. Although there were a number of books I’d like to borrow, if you don’t mind…”

“You sound like Hermione,” Harry said with a smirk. “Borrow anything you like, just be careful—a lot of stuff in the house was Cursed in case anyone tried to use it.” His fingers suddenly froze in the process of drumming. “Hey—Flitwick knows how to undo Memory Charms, right?”

“Well yes, but that just brings us back to the problem of finding him,” Sally-Ann pointed out. “And even if we did, we couldn’t just ask him to tell us.”

“No,” Harry said. “But if we end up having no choice, he’s probably the best bet for figuring it out since we know him. Maybe we could…I don’t know, get the memory from him, learn how to do it, and then put it back?”


“Wait,” Sally-Ann interrupted, looking at Harry incredulously. “Are you proposing we steal a memory from Professor Flitwick?”

“I wouldn’t even consider trying unless we’ve exhausted every single other possibility,” Harry assured her. “Is there anything else we can try? Would it be possible to figure out how to do it ourselves?”

Sally-Ann thought for a moment. “There’s a slim chance that we could,” she decided eventually. “There are pieces of information that we can gather and try to form into a recognizable whole. And maybe if we’re not sure about something we can enlist Cho Chang’s help; she is a Medi-witch trainee. Maybe she could even ask a Healer some questions, if she just made it sound like she was interested in the theory…” she stopped when Harry snorted with laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly. “I’m just starting to understand more and more why Hermione was almost in Ravenclaw.” He went on quickly to distract Sally-Ann, since her expression was filled with curiosity. “All right, will you, Terry and Padma start gathering all the information you can? Talk to Cho about it, too, and remind her that no one else is to know about this; anything she does in St. Mungo’s has to be unnoticed, or seem completely innocent.” Sally-Ann nodded. “Keep thinking about how to locate Flitwick without being obvious about it, too,” Harry continued. “If you come up with something, let me know.”

*****

Harry stepped out of the back room of Fred and George’s shop. It was weird, seeing the place so empty on a weekday; usually it was packed wall-to-wall with customers, despite the threat of Voldemort looming over everything.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing by the counter with Ginny, Ron and Hermione (who was seated); they were all talking, and Harry was relieved to see Mrs. Weasley appeared quite calm. He was worried she would react to Hermione’s being Cursed much the same way she’d reacted to Ron’s incapacitation earlier that year, but she seemed to be handling it much better. Lee, Susan and Terry were all watching as Charlie Weasley and Remus Lupin cast Charms on the store to protect it. They were all chatting in between each casting; apparently Charlie and Lupin were explaining what they were doing as they went along.

Mr. Weasley was the first to notice Harry’s arrival; “Harry!” he called, causing everyone’s head to turn.

Harry walked over to the group while waving to the others; Charlie and Lupin waved back pleasantly, and both indicated they’d talk after they were done with their Charms castings. Ginny smiled at Harry and kissed him on the cheek when he reached her. Mrs. Weasley hugged him in greeting, and Mr. Weasley shook his hand. “Hello,” he said to everyone. “Did I miss anything?”

“Ginny was just filling us in on some of what happened last night,” Mrs. Weasley told him. “And we were speculating on how You-Know-Who found out you were going to visit poor Ernie MacMillan.”

The version of the story they’d told everyone was that Harry, Ginny, Fred and George were calling on Ernie socially and for business: Harry and Ginny to talk about starting up some sort of business together to create jobs for all their fellow ex-students, and Fred and George to try and convince Ernie to invest in another branch of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes in France, near Beauxbatons (Fleur had proven to know a good contact there). Ernie had been given a good amount of control of the MacMillan fortune when he’d turned seventeen, since his parents believed strongly in learning by experience.

“I just don’t know,” Harry said sadly. “It could have been as simple as Ernie mentioning it in passing to someone he thought he could trust. I don’t see how we’ll ever know for certain, since…”

“Since Ernie died,” Hermione finished for him, and he nodded.

“I must say, Harry, that you constantly amaze me,” Mr. Weasley said. “The number of times you’ve managed to escape You-Know-Who keeps rising—as does the number of Weasleys whose lives you’ve saved.”

Harry flushed. “So…so Fred and George are going to be okay for sure?” he asked. “I didn’t save them—I didn’t really do anything but stand there. Pettigrew was the one who saved us.”

“But only because you spared him four years ago,” Mrs. Weasley pointed out determinedly. “We know all about that, Harry, and it was the right thing to do… obviously, since it saved you last night, and saved three of our children.”

“Four of our children, Molly,” Mr. Weasley corrected, smiling at Harry, who went even redder. “And yes, Harry, Fred and George will be fine. They’re already awake, much to Angelina Johnson’s relief; she left her Quidditch team’s weeklong training halfway through to come back and see Fred.”

Charlie and Lupin finished soon after, and came over to say hello. Charlie clapped Harry on the back. “Me and Bill are the only ones left, and you’ll have saved the whole set!” he joked. Harry smiled sheepishly, choosing not to point out that he hadn’t saved Percy, and wasn’t sure if he would, given the chance.

Lupin shook Harry’s hand with a bit more dignity; he looked even thinner than the last time Harry had seen him. “It’s good to see you again,” he said. “Would you mind if we spoke alone for a moment? We didn’t have much chance at the wedding.”

Harry excused himself and went with Lupin to the other side of the room. “Are you all right?” he asked. “You look a bit…er…”

“Destitute?” Lupin finished for him with a grin. “Don’t worry, Harry; I’ve been doing more work for the Order, still trying to influence the werewolf packs. I actually succeeded in turning one entire pack against Voldemort and Greyback.”

“That’s terrific!” Harry said, stunned. “How’d you manage that?”

“It helped that they greatly respected Albus,” Lupin said softly. “He spoke out extensively in favor of werewolf rights, and they knew of it long before I arrived, bearing Dumbledore’s scent.”

“That makes sense,” Harry said. “Oh, that reminds me,” he added, fumbling in his pockets, “do you have anyone making you the Wolfsbane potion now?”

“I’ve had to hire a potions maker to do it,” Lupin admitted with a frown. “It’s a shame since it’s so expensive, but no one in the Order is up to making it…”

Harry pulled out a large flask and handed it to Lupin. “There you are,” he said with a smile. “A dose of Wolfsbane. I’ve got a cauldron-full I can send you if you tell me where.”

Lupin stared at the flask in his hand. “But…but Harry…the Wolfsbane potion is far too complicated—and well, don’t take this the wrong way, but from what I understand your potions work was never that stellar.”

“It wasn’t me, it was Hermione,” Harry said, looking mildly affronted at the insult to his potions skill. “She’s brilliant at potions, you know that. She studied the recipe for ages and practiced a lot before finally producing a real batch. It came out perfectly.” He wished he could mention that Pansy had helped, but didn’t think it would be wise.

Fortunately Lupin seemed to think that Hermione’s potions skills were impressive enough. “Hermione checked all the indications of proper brewing, I assume?” he asked.

“You can ask her, but it’s Hermione we’re talking about; can you really imagine her forgetting something like that?” Harry retorted.

Lupin laughed. “No, I can’t. Well, this is a wonderful gift, Harry, and will save me a great deal of time and money. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said. “Er… I wanted to give you something else, but I don’t want you to be…insulted.”

“I’ll never be insulted by something you offer me, Harry,” Lupin assured him.

Harry produced a key from his pocket, and handed it to Lupin. “It’s one quarter of the money from Sirius’ vault,” he said quietly. “Ginny and I want you to have it. I think Sirius would’ve assumed I’d give you at least part of what he left.”

Lupin looked both shocked and moved as he took the key. “I—thank you, Harry,” he said thickly. “I believe Sirius would be as proud of you as your parents would be.”

“So, umm…was there something specific you wanted to talk about?” Harry asked after an awkward silence.

“Yes,” Lupin said. “Minerva asked me to tell you that she’s respecting your wishes and not telling the rest of the Order about where you are or what you’ve been up to,” he told Harry. “I know, of course, as do Molly, Arthur, Charlie and Bill. I suspect Dora might be a bit more in contact with you than I realize,” he added with a wry look.

“She is,” Harry confirmed, feeling slightly guilty. “Sorry, I didn’t want you to think I don’t trust you—”

“But I’m much more in danger of being captured than Dora,” Lupin concluded. “It’s all right, Harry, I’m not angry. If nothing else I’m a bit relieved; I suspect Dora will have better luck contacting you than I have.”

“Er, yeah. You can always send messages here to the shop and I’ll get them, but Tonks can contact me more directly.”

“That’s fine, then,” Lupin said calmly. “Really, I just wanted to know you were all right.” He considered Harry carefully. “You are up to more than I know about; Minerva did tell me that much after I threatened to bite her, and only after swearing me to secrecy. Oh, I never would have and she knew that,” he added with a chuckle at Harry’s expression. “And I knew that Albus confided in you more than some of us; maybe more than any of us. Is the reason you don’t want to work with the Order—or be in the Order—because of what you learned from Albus?”

“I’m scared for myself and my friends’” Harry said hesitantly. “And without Dumbledore around any longer, the Order…Well, you’re not as safe as you used to be.”

Lupin’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. “You think there’s still a spy in the Order,” he said pointedly.

“It’s possible,” Harry said defiantly. “Snape even duped Dumbledore into trusting him; there could be someone else, or someone under Imperius…”

“It’s just as possible for that to happen to one of your friends,” Lupin pointed out. “Ernie MacMillan and Seamus Finnegan prove that.”

“It’s easier to spot Imperius being used on people close to you,” Harry shot back. “And we have other ways of finding out, too.”

“Asking questions only one person knows the answer to will only protect you so much—” Lupin started, but stopped when he saw Harry’s expression. “Ah. I’m sorry, Harry…I should have known you’d be a bit more careful than that.”

“I’m safer this way, and so is everyone else,” Harry said more calmly. “And at least I don’t have to worry about Ron or Hermione or Ginny betraying me; they’re the only people I trust with my life.”

Lupin looked like he was trying not to appear hurt. “The only people?”

Harry cast his eyes down. “I believe you’d never intentionally harm me…the same thing’s true for all the Weasleys, except for Percy. But it’s the difference between believing something and just…just knowing it, inside, like a fact of nature. Ginny, Ron and Hermione are the only people I feel that way about. I didn’t even feel it about Dumbledore.”

“I believe I understand you, Harry,” Lupin said after a long silence. “It’s why Peter’s betrayal stung Sirius and me all the more; because we knew that about him, and we were wrong.”

“You weren’t wrong,” Harry whispered. “Not really. He died last night; he stood up to Voldemort to save me and Ginny.” Harry forced himself to continue, knowing it was as important for Lupin to hear as it was for Harry to admit. “I think, when it was my mum and dad, Peter didn’t really understand. But last night before…before he died, he told me Sirius had been right that night in the Shrieking Shack, when Sirius said Peter should have died rather than betray his friends. He finally understood, and made it count when it was most important.” He looked up and met Lupin’s eye. “That’s what I know about Ginny, Ron and Hermione; that they understand that already. They’ve seen what that kind of loyalty means; and I know, without question, they would die rather than betray me or each other, like I would for them.”