Redeem Me

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write…are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.

Redeem Me…by Samayel

Chapter 46: Interview With An Auror


Ron made his way upstairs and found Harry in his room, irritably laboring his way through a stack of books. Harry looked up with mixed relief and concern when he saw Ron, and pushed aside the text he had just started flipping through. Ron gingerly held out the letter for Harry that had been waiting on the kitchen table.

“Ministry seal, mate. I think we’re in a spot of trouble over last night. That’s why I came. Fenton died last night…and the press is all over it. They know you and Draco were at the party. By the way, mate…there’s a great photo on page six. Draco on your lap snogging you half to death. Someone out there had a long distance lens, ‘cause it’s pretty clear. Anyhow, they know full well that I dropped Fenton off at St. Mungo’s, and that I beat the hell out of him in the first place, but they just couldn’t resist attaching your name to anything that involves a dead guy.”

Harry gritted his teeth and opened the Ministry envelope while he answered Ron. At least it wasn’t a Howler. One more argument with Kingsley and Harry was sure he’d be surrounded by Aurors and forced to defend himself by whatever means were necessary. Not that he was actually afraid of them, but it would be irritating and counter-productive to wipe out the Auror Service over a grudge match with Kingsley’s ego.

“Shit. Page six, huh? If Fenton was still alive it probably would have been page one. Those fucking vultures. Ron…I never told you thanks last night…for Fenton, and Draco. There was too much going on, and I was too pissed when you told me, but you really came through for him. Thanks, mate. I mean it.”

Harry unfolded the letter and started reading, while Ron sat down on the edge of the bed and clasped his hands.

“You’re welcome, Harry. Just…so that’s it, huh? You and Draco really are an item? I never figured either of you for poofs, and I damn sure never figured you for being with each other. What’s that all about then?”

Harry looked up from the note with a tense frown.

“We’ve got an Auror coming for interviews and statements this afternoon. Damn. Should have expected it, but it’s nothing I can’t deal with. Yeah…it’s true, mate. I never planned it, and I’m sure he didn’t either, but we’ve both changed a lot over the last few years. He isn’t at all like I remember. He’s…he’s perfect to me. I mean…he’s polite, thoughtful, sweet, honest to a bloody fault. He doesn’t whine or carp about things like he did at school. I didn’t even think I was…you know…gay, until I started being around him every day. Fuck all, mate, it’s only been a few weeks, and I can’t imagine him going away. I want to protect him, look after him, wake up with him every day, all of it. Funny thing, love…isn’t it?”

Ron smiled and shook his head.

“So it’s that, is it? Love? Never heard you use that word before, so you must have it bad. It’s a funny thing alright, mate. Just be careful with your heart…and his. Love’s a great thing, but it plays hell with your head if it goes pear-shaped. Trust me on that one. You sure he feels that way about you? Not that the snog he was giving you on page six looked uncertain. Fact is, you looked like you were under siege and ready to surrender. Hah!”

“C’mon, I wasn’t that bad off. It’s…it’s complicated with him. Ron…the people…the Death Eaters that hurt him…it wasn’t just torture. There was more…like Fenton, but worse. That’s why Draco doesn’t like being touched or grabbed. He gets panicky when anyone gets too close…except me. He tries for me…really tries. That’s got to mean something good, doesn’t it? He’d fight something that makes him shite scared, just to be closer to me? I know he cares even more than he says, and he says it pretty plain too. I…I just feel like I’m failing him. He needs help…and I can’t find a way to heal some of what he’s feeling…and he doesn’t understand about Fenton…or the others, like Kaminski. I can’t let the things they do…or did to him, just slide by. I can’t.”

Ron nodded soberly.

“Well, that settles it then. I don’t know much, but I know what love is. You have it for him, and if he’s got it for you, run with it and don’t quit. Hmmph. It was worth getting sacked just to rearrange that fuck Fenton’s face. ‘Sides, I’ve got enough saved up, I’ll move home if my agent can’t get me a new team…maybe work for Fred and George, or get in at the Ministry with me Dad. Just help me get through this Auror interview thing without any trouble, okay? D’ya think I need to be Obliviated for safety’s sake? They won’t use Veritaserum unless they take me in, but there’s no way to be sure if they’ll leave me here after the interview or not. What do you think?”

Harry looked crestfallen, and stared at Ron in surprise and disappointment.

“They fucking sacked you?! That’s insane! Fenton was a fucking rapist! You saved Draco from a fucking pervert and they fire you?! Who the fuck do they think they are?”

“Oy! Easy, mate! I knew it could happen. First rule of pro Quidditch is keeping your personal disputes from affecting the game. I took a Seeker out of the running during a race for the Cup. I was pretty sure I’d get the axe for it, and they don’t know anything about Fenton and Draco. I kept his name out of it.”

“Why? What for? You lost your job, Ron! Wouldn’t they have understood if you told them what was happening?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I figure what happened is Draco’s business, and if he doesn’t want people yammering at him about it, I can just keep it our secret. It’s no one’s fucking business but his what happened there, and if he wants to tell people about it, fine, but until he does, I’m not saying a fucking word. It’s my choice, so don‘t worry over it. I‘d do it over again the same way if I had the chance. Well…almost the same. I‘d probably have broken a few more parts of Fenton‘s sorry ass if I’d known I‘d get fired and interrogated over the whole fucking thing.”

“Don’t worry over the Aurors, mate. I have a way to deal with that. You’re not going anywhere you don’t want to. Thanks, mate. I can’t even tell you what it means to me that you’d do that for Draco. Thank you.”

They were suddenly interrupted when they realized that Draco was standing in the doorway, face flushed with exhilaration, smiling from ear to ear, and hovering on the brink of crying. Their eyes both gravitated to the wand in his right hand. It was exquisite…a flawless product of the wandmaker’s art, and Draco looked happier than anyone had seen him in recent memory. Ron blushed, suddenly aware that Draco had heard the last part of the conversation. Not that he felt vast loyalty to Draco personally, but a person’s business was their own…especially if they were important to Harry, right?

Draco beamed at them, grinning like a giddy first-year. He held up the wand and had to fight the urge to jump up and down with excitement.

“Harry…Harry! It came. It’s perfect! Perfect! I’m a wizard again! It works like a dream. Yew heartwood, felled by lightning, phoenix feather core, and a dragon’s tear in the tip! It practically bloody hums! This…this is probably one of the best wands ever built…and it’s for me! Thank you! Thank Charlie and Dula. Thank all of you! Go on…try it out!”

Ron stared at the small work of art while Harry took it from Draco, smiling all the while. Harry waved it with a small flourish, and promptly swept all the clutter in his room into the corner.

“Brilliant. Just brilliant. You know…I asked Dula and Charlie for the dragon tear just after I decided you needed a wand. They came through for me on short notice, and Dula wanted you to know how much he thought you were worth the effort. His exact words were, ‘Draco is a most remarkable young man, and to do such a thing for him is not a mere pleasure, but also an honor.’ That’s so Dula…but he’s right.”

Ron smirked and shrugged. Draco took the wand back and held it like it was his most cherished possession…which, frankly, it was. He looked over to Harry’s wand, comparing the two of them.

“I wonder why mine is shorter than yours.”

Ron answered with a deadpan voice.

“Well, nature can be kind of cruel sometimes.”

Draco and Harry turned bright red when they realized that Ron hadn’t been speaking of wands, and Ron collapsed into a fit of laughter, sliding off the bed.

“C’mon! Don’t tell me you didn’t see that one coming! Hah!”

Draco simmered for a moment, then relaxed, and laughed alongside the others.

“Try to remember that I have a wand again, and I know how to use it! I suppose I could be upset, but it’s kind of hard to vent at someone who did so much for me yesterday…and today. I heard what happened to you. I’m so sorry, Ron. I didn’t think they’d throw you off the team for helping me. I just…I can’t believe you didn’t tell them what happened. Thank you for thinking of me. I don’t…I don’t really want to talk about it, and I’d like to just enjoy my new wand and get on with things. The last thing I want is to have to pick over every detail with an Auror in my face. I really owe you. I won’t forget this, I promise. As for now…I’m headed downstairs to clean the entire house for Molly, all by spell. I’d say I need more practice, but really, it’s just fun to cast spells again…I don’t even care which ones they are!”

Draco headed downstairs in a hurry, while Ron and Harry took up where they left off. Draco had needed to get away, since the urge to hug the two louts had been nearly overwhelming…and if he felt the urge to hug Ron Weasley, the world was definitely spinning off its axis!

Harry took a deep breath and sighed.

“Like I was saying, don’t worry about the Aurors. I’ve got ways to keep them off your back, and keep Draco out of this. Their minds are like butter, and if I decide that they’re asking the wrong questions, I’ll just make sure they ask some easier ones. Believe me…we have nothing to worry about.”

“I hope you’re right, mate. Mum isn’t going to be thrilled when she finds out I pounded Fenton into mulch, and I know I’m getting an earful, but I don’t want to see the inside of Azkaban.”

“Trust me. It’s all under control.”

------------------------------------------------------


Draco opened his letter from Dula. He’d thrilled Molly by cleaning the entire downstairs of the Burrow in minutes, and then settled down to read the mail. The Daily Prophet was the hardest thing to read. Fenton’s picture smiled from the front page, giving a rakish wink every so often. It made Draco’s blood curdle just to see that face smiling at him, knowing that the man had been a monster, and that now he was dead because of Harry’s rage. That had been bad enough, but page six made Draco’s hair stand on end.

First, he hadn’t thought that anyone would turn a hi-powered wizard camera on them in the Skybox, and the embarrassment of being reintroduced to wizarding society as Harry’s boyfriend was enough to floor him. Second, the image showed him running his hand through Harry’s hair and kissing Harry savagely, while Harry flexed and arched with pleasure as Draco’s body ground into his lap. It had been so perfect then, but he looked so wanton and sluttish in the picture. No one would understand how he felt about Harry…they’d just see a former Death Eater whoring himself out to Harry Potter, who was implicated in deeds much darker than shagging ex-Death Eaters! Draco’s face burned with humiliation. Not for the first time, he was glad his mother wasn’t conscious to see something like this. The shame would have mortified her.

’I can’t believe it was just last night. I had a couple Butterbeers and I was rubbing all over him like an alley cat. Not that my reputation was ever really good, but I hadn’t thought it could actually get worse. Damn it! Like I need this shit! I’m tired, I haven’t slept, there are going to be questions about last night, AND I have to get help for Harry…soon! He’s slipping…and I can almost feel it. I want him so bad, and I know he loves me, but if I just let go and let myself be his…I’ll never be able to say no to him. And I have to…I might have to do more than just say no. I might have to betray him. Thank Merlin I’ve got a wand. At least now I can get a few things done without begging help from everyone else. This is a mess, but I’ve finally got a tool at my disposal that can help. Now if I just get the right spells from Dula, I can sort out where or what Voldemort is hiding in.’

Draco made ready to read Dula’s letter, and pushed more worrisome thoughts aside for the moment.

Dear Draco,

I have visited my family’s estate, and made some progress researching some of the things that might be of use to you. If you cannot arrange to visit in the next two days, I will visit you there, and see to it that you have the information I have obtained.

Our prayers are with you,

Dula

Good news at least. Dula had spells that would help, and now Draco only needed to make his way back to Hogwarts to see if it was possible to contact Severus Snape. Molly had set an appointment with Madam Pomfrey for Saturday, so with a little luck, Draco could sort out more than a few matters before the month was over. With a lot of luck, he could sort himself out as well. Just because he still felt ill-used and foolish for last night’s disaster…it didn’t mean he was dead. In his heart, he knew he wanted Harry, and Harry was worth wanting…even if it meant risking life and limb to get him.

Draco plucked at the picture from page six and tore it free, folding it and saving it for himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it seen in the house…it was that it was the only picture of him with Harry, and even if it was taken under the wrong circumstances and was attached to a very bad night, it was still one good memory locked in place, forever captured, and Draco wanted to keep it for himself.

Harry came pounding down the stairs, wand in hand, looking deadly serious. Ron was right behind him. Molly drifted through the kitchen and picked up her wand tensely.

“Someone’s at the edge of the wards, Draco. Best if you and I hang back. Ron and Harry will make sure it’s someone who has proper business here.”

Ron and Harry were out the front door a second later, and Draco peered out of a window. He could see Auror’s duty robes at the end of the walk, and he knew that trouble had finally come to join them. Ron and Harry led the cloaked stranger back to the house, and Draco slipped upstairs to wait until he was called. His presence could only complicate things if he wasn’t asked after, and if he was asked for by name, the others would send for him. Draco took his mail and moved up the stairs to his room, grabbing a book to read while he waited, praying that Ron wouldn’t get into trouble that couldn’t be dealt with.

Ron and Harry entered the Burrow again, this time looking more relaxed. Molly stepped into the living room to see who the new arrival was, and smiled nervously when she saw Nymphadora Tonks peeling off her cloak.

“Oh! Tonksy! I’m so glad they sent you…this is just an awful mess, and bless them for thinking of us at a time like this.”

“No worries, Molly. I just got out of St. Mungo’s myself. Only just got back to work today, and Kingsley sent me down because he knew you’d be worried sick. I’d love a cup of tea while we get this out of the way…if you don’t mind?”

“Of course! I’ll be right with you in a minute. Make yourself comfortable, love!”

Molly scurried off to the kitchen, while Ron sat down with a worried look on his face. This wasn’t as bad as if they were to be questioned by some stranger, but Tonks brought complications that only Harry and Ron understood. Harry’s mind was racing while he sat down.

’Fuck! Tonksy! I can’t…she’s…how could I force my way into her mind? She’s Remus’ wife, for fuck’s sake! Did Kingsley know I’d like her too much to do anything to her, or did he just send her because she’s an old friend and I wouldn’t throw her out of here? There’s no way to tell. It’s too late to Obliviate Ron…she’d know. Damn it! This could blow everything wide open, and…and I couldn’t hurt her. She’s a friend…but I can’t let Ron go to Azkaban for something he didn’t do. What do I do?

Tonks set the situation at ease quickly, by offering her usual quirky smile before she spoke, and her tone was as carefree and convivial as ever.

“Relax, you two. I’m not here to take anyone away with me. This is just a routine follow up investigation. I already talked to the Cannons’ staff and a few of the party guests, as well as the folks at St. Mungo’s. After we’ve established what everyone has to say about last night, then we’ll worry about whether anyone could or should be charged. Officially, you’re not suspects, you’re just ‘persons of interest’ and possible witnesses. Kingsley sends his greeting, Ronny, but as for you Harry-love, what did you do to him while I was in hospital? He acts like you personally climbed onto his desk and peed in his morning tea. I know you and Kingsley haven’t gotten along just lately, but I hadn’t thought it would get that bad.”

Harry calmed himself a little, hoping that, with Tonks doing the investigation, she might just choose not to push hard and unravel details that weren’t strictly relevant to this case.

“You know how it is. He’s stuck in the politics, and it’s all about his image and making gestures for the press. He and I don’t agree about much anymore. I guess he’s better than the last couple Ministers we had, but still, he acts like the people losing their lives mean nothing…compared to the latest opinion polls, and it makes me sick. He doesn’t seem like the person I remember. That’s all that there is between us, and as long as he can manage to leave me alone, we’re fine.”

Tonks listened quietly to Harry, then nodded and turned back to Ron.

“Alright, Ronny. I need to hear what you say happened last night, and try to be as detailed as possible. Any questions I have will only come after I’ve taken down your statement…and Harry and Draco’s statements.”

Harry piped up.

“What’s Draco got to do with this?”

“Routine questions, Harry. It was established that the two of you were at the party before and after Fenton was injured. Any details you have might help shed light on why he died unexpectedly last night. Draco was there, so he gets questioned too.”

Ron was not an exceptional liar, so he stuck to the truth as much as possible. He hadn’t liked Fenton, and very few people had considered him anything but a useful Seeker and a pain in the ass. Ron fumbled a bit while trying to imply that his enmity had run deeper than normal with Fenton, and when it came to his explanation of how they wandered off together and wound up fighting, he was just pitiful. It was fairly clear that Harry should have Obliviated him carefully and left it at that. If Tonks didn’t buy Ron’s tale of a personal grudge gone wrong they were just screwed!

To both their surprise, Tonks barely blinked while she scribbled down notes, then turned to Harry and asked for his side of it. Harry stuck to the basics, admitting that he’d been at the party and knew who Fenton was, but he made it clear that until yesterday they’d never met, and that he had no personal grudge against the man. Harry’s evening had consisted of a long conversation with Oliver Wood and a few Butterbeers. Fortunately, Harry lied as smoothly as could be, and seemed as comfortable as one could be while being questioned by an Auror. Then she turned back to Ron.

“Ron…you said you had disagreements with Fenton before, but it never got out of hand, and it never turned violent. What was different this time? Were you threatened physically? Magically? Is there a solid reason for what you did? Give me something I can work with, love. I’d like to believe you, and Kingsley really loves your family. If you have a good reason for this, we can help smooth things over and keep you out of Azkaban…and since you didn’t use magic, they can’t break your wand either.”

Harry was almost relieved by that statement, until Ron’s inability to lie cocked things up. The man kept stammering and stuttering, sweating from head to toe and muttering pathetic justifications that didn’t remotely match anything she’d been told before. Harry was despairing inside while he watched Tonks jot notes down while looking disappointedly at Ron. Then a voice from the edge of the room stopped them all cold.

“Fenton raped me. Ron broke in and saw him in the act. I was stupid enough to think he was just a friendly Quidditch star who fancied me a bit. By the time I knew what he wanted we were already alone and away from the party. Ron must have known the bastard's reputation, and he came following along after us. Ron Apparated Fenton to St. Mungo’s after beating the hell out of him, and he cleaned me up and Apparated me here. The only reason he’s even covering anything up is to keep what happened to me out of the papers. You should be giving him a medal. We don’t know what happened to Fenton, but nobody misses him, believe me. Thank Merlin Ron came when he did…and if I’d had a wand last night, I’d have killed the bastard myself. Does that answer your questions?”

Tonks beamed while she furiously scribbled notes.

“Now that jibes with what I heard from Ron’s teammates. The management of the Cannons disavowed any knowledge of sexual misconduct, but several people claim otherwise. I had Fenton pegged as a sex predator, but I had no connection to what happened at the party last night. You should be proud, Draco. A lot of people wouldn’t be able to give a statement like that. You’ve certainly saved Ron’s bacon! Really, Ron. You should know better than to lie…you’re a Weasley…it doesn’t work for you guys.

Let’s go over what happened from the top, and if we can sort this properly, I can establish a just cause for the fight, and with Fenton’s history of sexual aggression I think the Wizengamot won’t even hear the case. I’ll need to take new statements, and cast a few Priori Incantatem on your wands, but we can have this done in an hour and you won’t have to hear from me again…unless you invite me to dinner! That’s a subtle hint…okay? I miss Molly’s cooking…and so does Remus. Now, let’s take this from the top.”

It took quite a lot of note-taking and questioning, but before it was over, the Ministry had its answers, and Harry’s involvement never came up. As it turned out, despite the lurid headlines in the paper that morning, St. Mungo’s autopsy indicated a sudden brain aneurysm likely caused by repeat trauma to the head. No trace of magic was found, and the death was unsuspicious, though clearly tied to Ron’s fists battering Fenton’s skull. Molly served a light and early lunch, and after a cup of tea and a bite to eat, Tonks wished them well and was on her way back to the Ministry, with a list of people to question in response to the new allegations.

Draco was the hero of the hour, and though praise and scrutiny made him terribly uncomfortable, he endured the hug that Molly gave him quite stoically, and he accepted handshakes from Ron and Harry, who were both still floored that Draco had pulled them out of a tight spot. Ron was forgiven by Molly for his assault on Fenton, since the fiend had touched her Draco, and deserved nothing less than the beating of a lifetime. She wasn’t pleased about the matter ending in a man’s death, but despite her best efforts, she couldn’t say she’d have done any less to the bastard if she’d been the one who found him that night.

For all that the day had started poorly, it had come a long way since, and a faint air of celebration hovered about the Burrow. It didn’t lighten Draco’s mood though. Draco loved his new wand, and he was glad that Ron wouldn’t suffer for having saved him. He was glad that Harry wouldn’t be implicated, and he was even kind of glad that he’d been ’outed’ as Harry’s date, since that saved a lot of lengthy explanations to who knew how many people. Now they just knew, and little in the way of answers would be needed. All of these things were good, but they weren’t good enough.

All the happy news in the world could not make Harry any less a killer, or Draco any less a victim. Fenton was dead by Harry’s hands, even if no one knew it but Ron, Draco and Harry, and Draco was the only one who knew that it heralded the end of any hope of expecting Harry to change without outside help. Finally, all the dead bodies in the world couldn’t erase the terror that Draco had felt, or the burning shame and humiliation, or the faint and constant self-loathing that haunted him anew. Nothing was really made better by Fenton’s death, and it had cost Harry and Draco more than most would ever know.

TBC!!!