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annafugazziPairing(s): Harry/Draco. Also Ron/Hermione, past Harry/Ginny in the background.
Summary: It all started with a stupid interrogation. Or: Don't ask a question if you're not prepared to hear the answer.
Rating: R
Word Count: 24,127
Warning(s): Can't think of any.
Epilogue compliant? EWE, baby :)
Author's Notes: Author's Notes are different in this section, because presumably you've already gone down to the end of Day 2 ;)
Thank you so much,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
taradiane, for the prompt, and thanks to scrtkpr, naatz, tree00faery, authoress_girl, and schemingreader for betanesses :) :)
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Day 3
"All right, ladies and gentlemen, everybody take a seat, with your simulation groups," said Auror Trainer Sullivan, and Harry breathed a short sigh of relief as the trainees began to sort themselves and take out their parchments and quills. The discomfort of trying to not notice people who were trying to not watch him was getting on his nerves more than he'd thought it could. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine himself back in the Great Hall during second year, when everyone thought he was the Heir of Slytherin, or fourth year, when he had supposedly cheated to get into the Triwizard Tournament, or fifth, when he was supposedly an attention-hungry liar.
With the notable difference that this time, what people were whispering about him was the truth. He couldn't exactly comfort himself that hopefully eventually his name would be cleared.
Varley approached and sat down next to Ron, with Malfoy taking a seat next to Harry, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the difference in his reaction to Malfoy. The attraction was still there, as it had been for months now, but instead of the distracting near-obsession of the last few days, this was more of a muted awareness tugging at his consciousness. Slightly sharper than before the bond, but manageable. Apparently the counter-charmer, though cool and distant with him when he'd gone to see her, had been competent, at least. The one thing good thing about Harry's day so far.
It hadn't helped at all that his breakfast had been marred by The Daily Prophet's story on page two, about his scandalous personal revelation of the day before. Thankfully the front page was taken up with articles concerning the one year anniversary of the end of the war, or his own news would have been on the front page, but that wasn't much comfort right about now. He'd been supremely unsurprised to see it penned by his very favourite reporter, and featuring quotes from some of his favourite people.
"I think it's rather irresponsible of him to make such a lifestyle choice when young children are looking up to him," says Pansy Parkinson, who attended Hogwarts with Potter.
Which did have a certain humorous aspect to it. The girl who had wanted to sell him out to Voldemort, accusing him of irresponsibility. Classy.
"This does make it a little more difficult to swallow that his closeness to Dumbledore was purely a mentor-protégé relationship, doesn't it?" says Dolores Umbridge, who taught Potter Defense Against the Dark Arts three years ago. "It was clear to me even at the time that there was something highly improper going on between those two."
That one had been a little harder to stomach. The idea was... rather horrifying.
Interestingly, it seems many of Potter's close friends and associates have either known all along, or were unsurprised by the revelation that the Boy Who Lived is a homosexual. No comment could be obtained from any of his colleagues in this year's Auror Training Program. One can only wonder whether they are being diplomatic, or are afraid of angering Potter, who, although unquestioningly brave - some would say recklessly so - is also rumoured to be unstable and dangerous.
More puzzling is the lack of commentary among known detractors of Potter. Draco Malfoy, a member of this year's Unspeakable Training Program and a longtime rival of Potter, had little to say when asked his opinion.
"His personal life is his business," said Malfoy, rather rudely. "If he can be an effective Auror, who cares what he does in his free time?"
Harry had read over the words, over and over. His personal life is his business, said Draco. Malfoy.
Harry glanced at his teammates surreptitiously as he took out his notebook. He didn't need to. None of his teammates were looking at him.
"All right, Finnigan: let's start with you," said the Trainer, and Harry dutifully inked his quill and tried to keep himself looking interested for the next half hour. Seamus had failed to discover that his Suspect, Cormac McLaggen, had actually committed a crime himself, instead of merely aiding and abetting his Unspeakable co-Suspect, who was a distant cousin, and who was trying to get a banned potion from the Unspeakables in order to try to cure their mutual grandmother of a rare magical malady. Francois Rousseau had discovered that last fact, and was reproved for not having shared the information with Seamus. In the second group, Tracey Davis had figured out things about Eddie Carmichael that even his own mother didn't know, but their Unspeakable teammates had done a dismal job from beginning to end; the Interrogator had not managed to figure out that his Suspect and Carmichael were trying to overthrow the Minister, and the Unspeakable Suspect had answered every single question posed to her and only avoided spilling everything because of the complete incompetence of her Interrogator. Neither Interrogator team had guessed that one of their Suspects wasn't under Veritaserum.
Finally it was their team's turn. It seemed they'd done relatively well. Ron and Varley had interrogated competently, though neither Interrogator had managed to find out Malfoy had suspected Unspeakable McAllister of trying to recreate some of Voldemort's more dangerous magic, and had needed a dragon to travel to where McAllister was going to be carrying out his nefarious plot in order to stop him. No one but Malfoy had known that the parchment Malfoy had left for Harry wasn't actually hidden at The Three Broomsticks with a password Rosmerta, but at Honeydukes, with the password Katie Bell, to be discovered only after Harry himself went to try to find the parchment at The Three Broomsticks, because Malfoy hadn't trusted that Harry wouldn't let slip the information if questioned. And nobody except Malfoy knew that Malfoy had also intended to go to Antarctica, not Finland, had only been learning Finnish to throw off a search if he was unable to steal the Mysterious objects without arousing suspicion, and that the elf-stone had nothing to do with anything, and had only been taken to confuse the Aurors.
The rustle of murmuring and complete lack of joking or teasing when Sullivan said the relationship between Harry and Malfoy was a romantic one was telling, and deeply uncomfortable.
Finally the last group was done, they had learned all they could, and although they were supposed to have another half an hour of time scheduled for the debrief, the trainees began to put their things away.
"One last thing, ladies and gentlemen," said Sullivan. "Now we're going to tell you what even the Suspects didn't know."
There was a rustle of surprise. Sullivan grinned at them.
"Settle back down, everyone. McLaggen and Hopkins: that Banned substance? It's no good for your fictional grandmother's condition. It's only of use in Necromancy. The Healer who told you about it and wanted you to take it was working for Jezebel's Apothecary. Yes, the illegal one that we tried to shut down last July."
McLaggen's eyebrows went up as Sullivan waved his wand at the display board behind him, and it filled up with all the ways in which McLaggen and Hopkins had been fooled.
"Carmichael and Brent, the Minister For Magic is, in fact, not a werewolf." There was a general chuckle around the room.
"But his absences from the Ministry... and we saw him change!" protested Carmichael.
"That memory was implanted in you," said Sullivan.
"Well, obviously, it's a simulation!" said Brent.
Sullivan rolled his eyes. "Aside from that. That particular memory was implanted in you by someone else." Sullivan waved his wand at the display board and the facts of the case went up.
"Malfoy and Potter, McAllister's not actually planning on doing anything. The evidence connecting McAllister to suspicious activity was planted by fellow Unspeakable Katie Bell. She wanted you to obtain the dragon net and harness for her, and was going to take them so that she could carry out her own evil little plans. She was going to make the Goblin's Dragon War of 1823 look like a Sunday picnic."
Katie Bell smirked at them. "Mwahaha," she said, and Sullivan gave her an amused look.
"She also planted the evidence against Malfoy, that made McAllister fire him and set him up to look suspicious when the objects were discovered to be missing." Suddenly Sullivan looked a bit uncomfortable. "Her, erm, motivation had to do with her... history with Malfoy."
Malfoy's lips pressed together and Harry couldn't help feeling sympathetic. There had been no reason to make that - or the Three Broomsticks location, password Rosmerta, or any of it - part of the facts of the case, other than to have people once more pass around the story of Malfoy's near-murder of Katie with a cursed necklace two years ago. He briefly wondered if Sullivan had had any hand in that part of the simulation creation. Somehow he didn't think so. Sullivan seemed too much of a professional to be as petty as that.
And it wasn't the first time he'd seen Malfoy subjected to this kind of thing during their training, for all that Unspeakables and Aurors didn't train together all that much. Harry felt a surge of resentment on Malfoy's behalf.
"Now. Why are we telling you this?" Sullivan asked, clasping his hands behind his back. "This exercise should have taught you many things. Obviously, it's supposed to teach you interrogation and interrogation-avoidance techniques, and give you some practice in interdepartmental cooperation, and give you a feel for what it's like to have your will influenced by an outside force - whether it's Credulaserum, Imperius, Confundus, or some spell or potion you haven't even heard of. You are also supposed to observe what it looks like when that kind of thing is happening to a colleague." He paused, and looked around at the trainees seriously. "And it should also teach you to follow orders. You Suspects were convinced you had good reasons to be doing what you were doing, and it wasn't only due to you being dosed to the gills in Credulaserum. You honestly believed you were in the right. You are going to be law enforcement officials. You cannot afford to go against the Ministry the way you did."
"Excuse me, sir," McLaggen broke in. "That's not very fair, is it? Next week's Suspects will already know that that's what they're supposed to be learning."
"They won't, don't worry," said an Unspeakable from the back of the room. "You'll still remember this conversation, but they won't."
"Back to the point," said Sullivan, giving McLaggen a quelling look, "I want all of you Suspects to remember these situations. Remember how certain you felt. Remember how easily you broke laws and regulations to reach your goals. You two," his stern gaze now included McLaggen's partner, "your grandmother was sick, so maybe it was all right to steal a Banned potion? If this had been a real case, the potion would've wreaked havoc on the wizarding population of Britain." He faced them all. "Follow orders, people. Go with what the Ministry and the regulations say. No matter what you think is going on, no matter what you think you may know. It's too dangerous to do otherwise."
Harry and Ron glanced at one another as the trainees murmured to each other, most of them nodding seriously and seeming to agree.
"Are you serious?" asked Harry.
"I beg your pardon?" said Sullivan, frowning, and Harry suddenly realized that this was the first time Sullivan had made eye contact with him today.
"Potter," Malfoy said in a low, warning voice. Harry bit his lip. Damn. This really wasn't the right time to do this. But he couldn't just let it go.
"Are you serious," Ron stepped in, "that we should follow what the Ministry says, no matter what? That's the lesson we're supposed to swallow here?"
"Do you have a problem with this, Weasley?"
"Yeah, I've got a problem. It's a load of bosh."
A general murmur of alarm went up from the room.
"I beg your pardon?" said an older Unspeakable. "Was your oath of loyalty to the Ministry just words to you, then?"
"No, it wasn't," Ron said angrily. "I'm loyal, yeah. And I'll follow orders, normally. But we're part of the largest Auror training group in decades for a good reason, right?" He looked around the room in disgust. "How many Aurors and Unspeakables had to be sent to Azkaban for having carried out crimes for the Death Eaters, just last year, while still following Ministry orders, because the Death Eaters had taken over the Ministry? Bloody hell, didn't we learn anything?"
"That is completely out of order, Weasley," said Trainer Philips, over the low rumble from the rest of the group.
"They do have a point, you know," said the elderly wizard next to him mildly.
"We've been running this particular simulation for decades," said Philips. "It's a standard part of training."
"Perhaps this part of it shouldn't be," said the elderly wizard.
"Oh really?" said Philips. "You think everyone should be given special consideration?"
"No," said Harry. "Everyone should use their brains, and follow their consciences."
Philips stared at him. "No matter what bizarre... choices their consciences lead them to make?"
Harry clenched his jaw. "Yeah."
"Excuse me?" said one of the older Aurors incredulously. "Are you putting your eighteen-year-old world wisdom ahead of the accumulated wisdom and experience of your supervisors?" He scowled at Harry and Ron. "You two shouldn't even be here. You didn't even finish your seventh year--"
"Oi, they didn't finish it because they were busy trying to save all of our arses!" snapped Seamus.
"We were asked to come into this program," said Ron furiously. "We didn't ask to come in without NEWTs."
"You could've turned down the offer, then," said an Auror who hadn't spoken up yet.
"But you didn't," added an Unspeakable next to her. "You came in unprepared, and now you expect everyone to kiss your arse?"
"No," said Harry. "But I don't expect to have you act like we wormed our way into the program and don't have any right to be here."
"You wanted us," added Ron, and Harry felt the warmth of his support like a blanket around him. They might be on shaky ground right now, but at least they were standing on it together.
"What do you think, Varley?" asked Philips. "Do you agree with them?"
Varley's eyes widened and she suddenly looked very young. "I... I don't know," she stammered, turning red. "I'd have to think about it."
"Malfoy? What do you think?"
Malfoy looked startled and nonplussed for a moment, then glanced at Harry and his face went unreadable.
"I asked you a question, Malfoy. Do you agree with your teammates?"
Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "Yes. The rest of the training exercise was useful. But I don't agree with the moral you're trying to teach us."
Ugly mutters broke out around the room.
"Typical Malfoy, think they can do whatever they please."
"He's just sucking up to Potter."
"Got a little too in love with the idea of being in love with him, did you Malfoy?" somebody called out from the back of the room, and Harry opened his mouth to give a sharp retort but something made him pause. Malfoy's arms were crossed and his jaw was set, and Harry somehow got the distinct feeling that Malfoy would not thank him for interfering.
"Hoping to do a different kind of arse-kissing there, are you?" sneered an Auror sitting near the trainees.
"Leave him alone, you hypocritical bastard!" Tracey Davis snarled at him, and Harry remembered she was a Slytherin too, from their year. The room erupted into chaos - and then Sullivan clapped his hands and shouted for order.
"We will continue this no doubt fascinating discussion tomorrow when we reconvene," he said. "Right now, the Ministry is allowing all employees to take the time to attend memorials. The one at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is starting in three hours." He looked around the room, seeming a bit at a loss.
Philips spoke up. "People, try to put this behind you. Remember we are both celebrating our liberation from tyranny, and mourning the deaths of those who did not survive You-Know-Who's reign."
"Pompous arse," muttered Ron, and Malfoy sniggered.
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"Malfoy," said Harry, approaching Malfoy at the lift. "Erm, thanks."
Malfoy glanced at the other staff waiting for the lift and trying to ignore Harry. "For what?"
"For not turning on us in there," he said, feeling rather horrendously awkward.
"I agree with you," said Malfoy, seeming just as uneasy.
"Why?" said Ron curiously.
"I agreed with you even before you said it," said Malfoy. "You might want to remember I got a firsthand look at the folks who were all for Ministry loyalty, back when they could've stopped the Dark Lord, and didn't."
"Still," said Harry. "You didn't have to take a stand. You could've just waffled, like Varley."
"Varley's a certified twit," said Malfoy scornfully.
"Seemed pretty smart to me," said Ron.
Harry and Malfoy looked at each other, and Harry was surprised to realize they were almost sharing a disbelieving smile.
"What?" said Ron, defensively. "The Interrogators spent some time together the other night, doing extra training for the second interrogation. She's not as big a bitch as she seemed during the session."
"I haven't heard a civil word come out of her mouth since we started training," said Malfoy.
Ron shrugged. "I think it's political," he said.
This was a regular conversation, Harry realized. The three of them were interacting, voluntarily, not because of an assignment, he and Malfoy had no fake emotional bond between them... and nobody had yet thrown a hex. What a difference a year could make.
"See you later, Malfoy," said Ron, and turned to Harry. "Come on. Mum's said we should stop by The Burrow before going to the memorial." Harry nodded to Malfoy and turned to go with Ron - then stopped and turned back.
"Malfoy?" he said.
"Yes?"
Harry cleared his throat. "Erm. I also wanted to thank you for... well."
Malfoy stared at him curiously.
"In the paper, this morning," said Harry. "Skeeter came to you for a quote. Thanks for not giving her one."
Malfoy dropped his eyes and Harry realized to his astonishment that he was blushing.
"You're... welcome," said Malfoy stiffly.
"Why didn't you?" asked Harry.
Malfoy shrugged. "Your private life is your own business."
Harry nodded. "I appreciate it. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Ron cleared his throat. "Harry, I'll meet you at the Floo, all right?"
Harry blinked. Well. Unexpectedly alone with the man he'd had a profound crush on for the last two days, and who even now was worrying at the edges of his consciousness, though thankfully much more manageably now.
"Are you going to the memorial this afternoon?" asked Malfoy.
"Yeah. You?" asked Harry.
"I'm... supposed to."
"Do you not want to?"
Malfoy looked away. "Not really. I'm playing the memorial Quidditch game, but that's not the same, and considering what some people thought of that..."
Harry nodded sympathetically. Some of what had been said when it came out that Malfoy had signed up for the charity match had been... less than charitable.
"It's... I probably wouldn't go today, if I weren't an Unspeakable and already in the public eye," he admitted. "I'm sure there will be plenty of people who won't want anyone from my family there. But if I don't go, it'll just give them more ammunition against me." He shrugged, then almost smiled at Harry. "Although thanks to you I don't really have to worry much about being the centre of negative attention today."
Harry surprised himself with a small laugh. "True enough," he chuckled. "We'll see you there, then."
He walked away, and Harry mused over the morning, slowing down as he caught up with Ron at the Floo.
"Ron. Erm." He paused. Damn it, this was so awkward. He'd imagined the one-year anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts would be difficult enough, but had never in his wildest dreams thought he might have to be dealing with an unintentional outing at the same time.
"Are you sure I should come with you?" he asked, and Ron gave him a puzzled look. "Your mum reads The Prophet, Ron," he pointed out.
Ron's eyebrows went up. "Bloody hell, yeah. I forgot about that. Bollocks."
Harry sighed. "Why don't I just meet you at Hogwarts?" he suggested.
"No, don't be daft," Ron began, frowning.
"Look, you've got enough on your plate with... with all your family's going to be dealing with today." Which was probably an understatement. "I'll finish up some work at the library, then join you at the memorial. One o'clock?"
Ron's shoulders slumped slightly. "All right," he said, and turned away.
Harry turned and plodded to the Ministry library, almost empty as the building cleared itself out so that the staff could attend the memorial services or be with their families. He pulled out his parchment and quill and Moste Useful Speles: Expelliarmus Through the Ages, and tried to organize his thoughts. Let's see... he had the final write-up of his Expelliarmus research, a surveillance class report to finish, and an assignment on Foresight spells. He glanced around the library again, noticing that Malfoy was there too, in a dark corner of the library, with a large stack of blank papers and an empty book before him. He didn't appear to have noticed Harry's entry, as he peered closely at what looked like a blank piece of paper, then wrote something on the page which left no mark as far as Harry could tell. As Harry watched, he frowned and scratched out whatever he'd written and scribbled some more, leaving the page just as blank as before.
Go figure. Unspeakables.
The Wizard's Wireless was on in the background, a muted hum of inoffensive and relentlessly dull music. Harry supposed that was out of respect for the one year anniversary. The sound was soothing, distracting Harry from the morning's paper and the training session and even Malfoy's presence, and he soon found himself actually immersed in what he was doing. It certainly made homework easier when you were truly interested in what you were learning. Even Divination was interesting when taught by a competent teacher, and figuring out useful Divination spells for criminal investigations was actually somewhat fascinating...
He was deeply immersed in Criminal Dream Analysis when the music ended and a radio announcer's voice came on.
"And as we prepare to remember the sacrifice of those who died during the reign of You-Know-Who, and those who fought to end his reign, the wizarding world has been shocked by allegations that the main architect of You-Know-Who's demise is a homosexual." Harry felt an ache begin in his forehead at the announcer's smooth tone, and his prissy pronunciation of 'homo-seck-ssual'. "The Prophet broke the story this morning, and the wizarding world is in a tizzy trying to figure out what we think of this."
"Tizzy is pretty much how I would describe it, Howard, yes," said a woman's voice.
"Opinions range from disbelieving to outraged to amused. There are many who are saying that if true, these allegations do nothing to diminish the importance of what Mr. Potter has done for the wizarding world. Others say that while they still respect his accomplishments, they cannot in good conscience call him a role model any more."
"Well Howard, it's being pointed out, particularly among those wizards with close ties to the Muggle world," and Harry had to suppress a snort at her careful avoidance of the word 'Muggle-born,' a year after Voldemort's defeat, "that this is the kind of opinion we have to change in the wizarding world; our ways are conservative, and change slowly. Perhaps, they say, too slowly."
"Is that so?"
"Apparently in the Muggle world, a revelation of this nature would not be cause for alarm or dismay."
"Well, Wanda, be that as it may, still others remind us that even if the allegations are true, Mr. Potter is still a very young man. And many young people are... well, confused about their own sexuality, at least until they mature a little."
Harry sat, a blush heating his face and a desire to hex Howard making his wand hand itch. So he was either depraved or a confused child, was he? He suddenly wished Lee Jordan were on the radio right now, Lee would never have - but then, Lee was probably at The Burrow...
He caught Malfoy's eye across the library, and Malfoy gave him a small smile and a sympathetic shake of the head, then turned back to his own reading. The other three people in the library studiously bent their heads towards their work, except for one, who gave Harry a barely concealed sneer.
Bloody hell, there was nothing stranger than being on the same wavelength as Malfoy.
"And of course," chimed in Wanda, "once again rumours abound about the late Albus Dumbledore's sexuality, and questions about how close he and Potter may have become during Potter's formative years."
Harry shuddered.
"Here to talk to us about this is a classmate of Potter's, Pansy Parkinson. Welcome, Miss Parkinson."
Marvelous.
"Thank you, Wanda."
"Now, you were in Harry Potter's year, were you not?"
"Yes, I was. I can tell you none of us knew about this. None of us outside of Gryffindor house, anyway. Who knows what the Gryffindors knew; they were likely to accept anything Potter did, with no questions asked. He always got away with the most outrageous things at school."
"Didn't he do underage magic?"
"Yes, he did. He also performed magic in front of Muggles several times, and nobody cared. He was allowed to get away with it. Everybody still treated him like a hero no matter what he did."
"Yes, there are many people who admire him greatly. And many people quite disappointed in him right now. What would you say to that?"
"Well personally I've never understood why anyone idolized him. Honour him of course, as the person who was technically responsible for You-Know-Who's downfall, but see him as a role model? That's not quite right."
"It's interesting, though, not many people who know him personally have come out to speak against him."
"Probably because it's the memorial today," said Howard.
"Everybody still worships him, or is afraid of him," said Pansy snidely. "Which is why he wasn't disciplined back in school. He was very unstable, always has been. You know he almost killed a fellow student once."
"Yes, Draco Malfoy," said Wanda. "Who hasn't said much about this. He was not exactly known for being a friend to Potter; why wouldn't he come forward?"
"He's got his own reasons." Pansy's voice was suddenly rather tense.
"Why would he not back you up, though? You were in Slytherin House together, weren't you?"
"We were, yes," she said, her voice sounding angry. "But it's not like he'd know what house loyalty was if it came up and bit him in the arse." She paused. "Besides, I happen to know that Draco Malfoy is also gayer than a gift basket."
"What?!" said one of the others in the library faintly.
"Merlin!"
'A gift basket?' was the first thought that went through Harry's mind. Across the library, Malfoy's face had gone perfectly still, his quill stopped in mid-invisible word.
"Oh my," Wanda said. There was a small pause. "Now is that true, or are you trying to bring down Draco Malfoy because he is now an Unspeakable, going to play in the memorial Quidditch match, and you... are not?" There was a pause. "After reports of your actions during the Battle of Hogwarts, when you suggested handing Potter over to You-Know-Who--"
"That's nothing to do with it," snapped Pansy.
"Is it lack of House loyalty, or lack of loyalty to you?" said Wanda, her friendly manner gone and her voice strongly reminiscent of Rita Skeeter's on the scent of new scandal. "Has he broken ties with you because of the negative publicity over--"
"You people are all the same!" said Pansy, her shrill voice bordering on hysterical now. "I was scared, all right? I didn't see why the rest of us had to be killed just to protect one person. And most of you tossers who say nothing but shit about me would've done the same thing!"
"Miss Parkinson--"
"And it doesn't change the fact that Draco's queerer than a three-Knut coin, now does it? Couldn't get it up for a girl for all the Galleons in England!"
"Miss Parkinson--"
"And I should know, the freak, why do you think he was always such a drama queen whenever Potter was concerned? He wanted him, that's why. Wanted to take Potter and bend him over a desk and--"
"I think maybe that's enough," said Howard's voice hastily. "Thank you, Wanda, and Miss Parkinson - no, no that's really quite enough--"
But Harry wasn't listening any more, as he watched Malfoy's face flush, then go pale. Malfoy took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, before determinedly smoothing out his parchment and continuing his invisible reading, only a faint trembling of the hand that held the quill betraying his distress.
Except for Howard's smarmy voice on the radio, now apologizing for the inappropriateness of the little outburst on "this solemn day of remembrance," the silence in the library was absolute. Harry stared at Malfoy, his own work utterly forgotten, his mind a whirlwind. He glanced down at his work, surprised to note that apparently he was reading something to do with Divination.
Five minutes later Malfoy checked his watch and put away all of his things, his face still as perfectly blank as his parchment, then walked out.
0000000
The school grounds were full. It seemed as though most of wizarding England had shown up, with much of Scotland, Ireland, and Wales thrown in for good measure. Harry ignored the sidelong glances and outright stares, and not a few disgusted glares, as he wondered if maybe it might not have been wiser to have come with Ron's family after all. He might not have felt so exposed and alone, looking for them. Finally he spotted them near the seats that had been set up close to Dumbledore's grave, and Ron waved him over. He hesitated briefly, spotting Ginny standing next to Ron and looking rather put out, and Mrs. Weasley seeming a bit nervous. He steadied himself, and approached them.
"Dear, thank you for coming," said Mrs. Weasley, giving him a hug that didn't seem as warm and genuine as others she'd given him over the years. Harry felt a twinge at the loss, and wondered miserably if it was just due to shock and understandable distraction because of the day, or if she disapproved so strongly of him now that she'd never treat him like a son again.
"Harry, good to see you," said Charlie, taking his hand in a firm handshake and clapping him on the back. Bill, Percy, George and Lee merely nodded to him, their minds clearly elsewhere, and Fleur gave him a slightly chilly smile.
"You should have come to The Burrow, Harry," said Mr. Weasley.
Harry cleared his throat. "Erm, had some work I needed to finish up on. Besides... it's supposed to be a day for family."
"You are family, Harry," said Mr. Weasley reprovingly.
Hermione gave him a fierce hug, and they moved to sit down, all the Weasleys and their friends in a row. A small wizard in black started with a prayer and a blessing, as the audience quieted down. Soft murmurs and sighs, and a few sniffles and sobs, were heard through the crowd as the small wizard led them in paying their respects to the people lost one year ago.
Thank God he didn't have any kind of central part in this ceremony, thought Harry. He'd been asked several times and refused every single one, and it turned out to have been one of the wisest things he'd ever done.
They all sat in respectful silence as a Ministry official spoke about the lessons of the war, and then Kingsley reminded everyone of how far they had come in a year, with far less flourish and political posturing than had been seen in a Minister For Magic in all of Harry's memory.
Finally all those who had fought at the Battle of Hogwarts were asked to come stand in the front, and Harry again thanked God that he'd pushed to be just one of the people before the crowd, instead of The Boy Who Killed Voldemort Twice. Standing among students and their families, professors, members of the Order and the DA, and Hogsmeade villagers, it wasn't so difficult to face the crowd and note how many of them seemed to be whispering about him.
And then the formal part of the memorial was done, and they were all free to mix casually again. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing. Harry looked around, spotting Malfoy sitting stolidly next to his remarkably composed and serene mother, and wondered how either of them could manage that today of all days, in this place.
"Harry, it's so good to see you. I didn't know if you'd make it in today," said Hermione, giving him another hug.
"Of course," said Harry. "I wouldn't have missed it."
"I know you wanted to."
"Yeah."
Hermione shook her head at him fondly. "I know, you hate being the focus of attention. I still think it would've been good of you to say something, though."
"Are you joking? After this morning?"
"What about this morning?"
Harry blinked.
"Harry," said Ginny, coming up to him. He eyed her warily. "Good of you to make it," she said. "Though Mum would've preferred it if you'd been at The Burrow."
"Erm." His feet suddenly seemed too big for some bizarre reason, and he inwardly shook himself impatiently. Ginny wasn't being particularly friendly, but she wasn't being cold or hostile, either. He should have known she wouldn't cause a scene. She had the same look on her face that she had when he'd broken up with her the first time. Not the defensive, angry look as when he'd broken up with her the second time.
"Yeah, sorry about that," he said awkwardly. "Are you... are you all right?"
A wry smile twitched Ginny's lips. "Not broken-hearted any more, if that's what you're asking about." Harry felt a blush heat his face. "There are more important things in my life than you, Harry," she said, slightly angry. "For example, supporting Mum and Dad through this day. Supporting George."
"I know that," he said, hoping he didn't sound as defensive as he felt. "Which was part of why I didn't go to your home. I thought you'd have enough going on, you didn't need to make today all about me."
Ginny's eyebrows went up, then she gave him a small smile. "Right, yeah, I suppose you would see it that way. It wasn't necessary, though. You could've come. You would've been welcomed."
"Right. I... I'm sorry."
Ginny nodded. "Well, that's that, then. Excuse me, I've got to go back to Mum."
"What was that all about?" Hermione said, baffled. "And why would you think Ron's family would fuss over you today? They've never been like that."
Harry finally clued in. "You don't know, do you?"
"Know what?"
"Did you read the paper this morning?"
"God no," Hermione shuddered. "I couldn't stand to read yet another dose of Skeeter being self-righteous, or Ministry folks who sent Muggle-borns to Azkaban blithering on about unity. Why? Were they talking about you again?"
Ah. He blew out his breath. "The paper said I'm gay."
Hermione's mouth dropped open, almost comically. "You're joking."
"No, I'm not. I am gay, though. And I didn't want to be around the other Weasleys, when even Ron isn't comfortable around me right now."
"You're... what?"
"Gay. All right? Gay. Possibly bi, but I didn't particularly want to explain that one to Ron."
Hermione was blinking rather a lot. "Why not?"
"'But your sister made me hard' isn't something I want to say to him," he said impatiently, and Hermione blanched. "...or to you, to be honest," he finished, wincing.
"Thanks." Hermione shook her head, a bit dazed, then put an arm around him and hugged him close. "Come, let's walk down to the Memorial Wall. I think maybe you'd better tell me about this. Try to spare me certain... details, though."
Harry nodded and followed her.
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3 part 2
Summary: It all started with a stupid interrogation. Or: Don't ask a question if you're not prepared to hear the answer.
Rating: R
Word Count: 24,127
Warning(s): Can't think of any.
Epilogue compliant? EWE, baby :)
Author's Notes: Author's Notes are different in this section, because presumably you've already gone down to the end of Day 2 ;)
Thank you so much,
taradiane, for the prompt, and thanks to scrtkpr, naatz, tree00faery, authoress_girl, and schemingreader for betanesses :) :)Day 3
"All right, ladies and gentlemen, everybody take a seat, with your simulation groups," said Auror Trainer Sullivan, and Harry breathed a short sigh of relief as the trainees began to sort themselves and take out their parchments and quills. The discomfort of trying to not notice people who were trying to not watch him was getting on his nerves more than he'd thought it could. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine himself back in the Great Hall during second year, when everyone thought he was the Heir of Slytherin, or fourth year, when he had supposedly cheated to get into the Triwizard Tournament, or fifth, when he was supposedly an attention-hungry liar.
With the notable difference that this time, what people were whispering about him was the truth. He couldn't exactly comfort himself that hopefully eventually his name would be cleared.
Varley approached and sat down next to Ron, with Malfoy taking a seat next to Harry, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the difference in his reaction to Malfoy. The attraction was still there, as it had been for months now, but instead of the distracting near-obsession of the last few days, this was more of a muted awareness tugging at his consciousness. Slightly sharper than before the bond, but manageable. Apparently the counter-charmer, though cool and distant with him when he'd gone to see her, had been competent, at least. The one thing good thing about Harry's day so far.
It hadn't helped at all that his breakfast had been marred by The Daily Prophet's story on page two, about his scandalous personal revelation of the day before. Thankfully the front page was taken up with articles concerning the one year anniversary of the end of the war, or his own news would have been on the front page, but that wasn't much comfort right about now. He'd been supremely unsurprised to see it penned by his very favourite reporter, and featuring quotes from some of his favourite people.
"I think it's rather irresponsible of him to make such a lifestyle choice when young children are looking up to him," says Pansy Parkinson, who attended Hogwarts with Potter.
Which did have a certain humorous aspect to it. The girl who had wanted to sell him out to Voldemort, accusing him of irresponsibility. Classy.
"This does make it a little more difficult to swallow that his closeness to Dumbledore was purely a mentor-protégé relationship, doesn't it?" says Dolores Umbridge, who taught Potter Defense Against the Dark Arts three years ago. "It was clear to me even at the time that there was something highly improper going on between those two."
That one had been a little harder to stomach. The idea was... rather horrifying.
Interestingly, it seems many of Potter's close friends and associates have either known all along, or were unsurprised by the revelation that the Boy Who Lived is a homosexual. No comment could be obtained from any of his colleagues in this year's Auror Training Program. One can only wonder whether they are being diplomatic, or are afraid of angering Potter, who, although unquestioningly brave - some would say recklessly so - is also rumoured to be unstable and dangerous.
More puzzling is the lack of commentary among known detractors of Potter. Draco Malfoy, a member of this year's Unspeakable Training Program and a longtime rival of Potter, had little to say when asked his opinion.
"His personal life is his business," said Malfoy, rather rudely. "If he can be an effective Auror, who cares what he does in his free time?"
Harry had read over the words, over and over. His personal life is his business, said Draco. Malfoy.
Harry glanced at his teammates surreptitiously as he took out his notebook. He didn't need to. None of his teammates were looking at him.
"All right, Finnigan: let's start with you," said the Trainer, and Harry dutifully inked his quill and tried to keep himself looking interested for the next half hour. Seamus had failed to discover that his Suspect, Cormac McLaggen, had actually committed a crime himself, instead of merely aiding and abetting his Unspeakable co-Suspect, who was a distant cousin, and who was trying to get a banned potion from the Unspeakables in order to try to cure their mutual grandmother of a rare magical malady. Francois Rousseau had discovered that last fact, and was reproved for not having shared the information with Seamus. In the second group, Tracey Davis had figured out things about Eddie Carmichael that even his own mother didn't know, but their Unspeakable teammates had done a dismal job from beginning to end; the Interrogator had not managed to figure out that his Suspect and Carmichael were trying to overthrow the Minister, and the Unspeakable Suspect had answered every single question posed to her and only avoided spilling everything because of the complete incompetence of her Interrogator. Neither Interrogator team had guessed that one of their Suspects wasn't under Veritaserum.
Finally it was their team's turn. It seemed they'd done relatively well. Ron and Varley had interrogated competently, though neither Interrogator had managed to find out Malfoy had suspected Unspeakable McAllister of trying to recreate some of Voldemort's more dangerous magic, and had needed a dragon to travel to where McAllister was going to be carrying out his nefarious plot in order to stop him. No one but Malfoy had known that the parchment Malfoy had left for Harry wasn't actually hidden at The Three Broomsticks with a password Rosmerta, but at Honeydukes, with the password Katie Bell, to be discovered only after Harry himself went to try to find the parchment at The Three Broomsticks, because Malfoy hadn't trusted that Harry wouldn't let slip the information if questioned. And nobody except Malfoy knew that Malfoy had also intended to go to Antarctica, not Finland, had only been learning Finnish to throw off a search if he was unable to steal the Mysterious objects without arousing suspicion, and that the elf-stone had nothing to do with anything, and had only been taken to confuse the Aurors.
The rustle of murmuring and complete lack of joking or teasing when Sullivan said the relationship between Harry and Malfoy was a romantic one was telling, and deeply uncomfortable.
Finally the last group was done, they had learned all they could, and although they were supposed to have another half an hour of time scheduled for the debrief, the trainees began to put their things away.
"One last thing, ladies and gentlemen," said Sullivan. "Now we're going to tell you what even the Suspects didn't know."
There was a rustle of surprise. Sullivan grinned at them.
"Settle back down, everyone. McLaggen and Hopkins: that Banned substance? It's no good for your fictional grandmother's condition. It's only of use in Necromancy. The Healer who told you about it and wanted you to take it was working for Jezebel's Apothecary. Yes, the illegal one that we tried to shut down last July."
McLaggen's eyebrows went up as Sullivan waved his wand at the display board behind him, and it filled up with all the ways in which McLaggen and Hopkins had been fooled.
"Carmichael and Brent, the Minister For Magic is, in fact, not a werewolf." There was a general chuckle around the room.
"But his absences from the Ministry... and we saw him change!" protested Carmichael.
"That memory was implanted in you," said Sullivan.
"Well, obviously, it's a simulation!" said Brent.
Sullivan rolled his eyes. "Aside from that. That particular memory was implanted in you by someone else." Sullivan waved his wand at the display board and the facts of the case went up.
"Malfoy and Potter, McAllister's not actually planning on doing anything. The evidence connecting McAllister to suspicious activity was planted by fellow Unspeakable Katie Bell. She wanted you to obtain the dragon net and harness for her, and was going to take them so that she could carry out her own evil little plans. She was going to make the Goblin's Dragon War of 1823 look like a Sunday picnic."
Katie Bell smirked at them. "Mwahaha," she said, and Sullivan gave her an amused look.
"She also planted the evidence against Malfoy, that made McAllister fire him and set him up to look suspicious when the objects were discovered to be missing." Suddenly Sullivan looked a bit uncomfortable. "Her, erm, motivation had to do with her... history with Malfoy."
Malfoy's lips pressed together and Harry couldn't help feeling sympathetic. There had been no reason to make that - or the Three Broomsticks location, password Rosmerta, or any of it - part of the facts of the case, other than to have people once more pass around the story of Malfoy's near-murder of Katie with a cursed necklace two years ago. He briefly wondered if Sullivan had had any hand in that part of the simulation creation. Somehow he didn't think so. Sullivan seemed too much of a professional to be as petty as that.
And it wasn't the first time he'd seen Malfoy subjected to this kind of thing during their training, for all that Unspeakables and Aurors didn't train together all that much. Harry felt a surge of resentment on Malfoy's behalf.
"Now. Why are we telling you this?" Sullivan asked, clasping his hands behind his back. "This exercise should have taught you many things. Obviously, it's supposed to teach you interrogation and interrogation-avoidance techniques, and give you some practice in interdepartmental cooperation, and give you a feel for what it's like to have your will influenced by an outside force - whether it's Credulaserum, Imperius, Confundus, or some spell or potion you haven't even heard of. You are also supposed to observe what it looks like when that kind of thing is happening to a colleague." He paused, and looked around at the trainees seriously. "And it should also teach you to follow orders. You Suspects were convinced you had good reasons to be doing what you were doing, and it wasn't only due to you being dosed to the gills in Credulaserum. You honestly believed you were in the right. You are going to be law enforcement officials. You cannot afford to go against the Ministry the way you did."
"Excuse me, sir," McLaggen broke in. "That's not very fair, is it? Next week's Suspects will already know that that's what they're supposed to be learning."
"They won't, don't worry," said an Unspeakable from the back of the room. "You'll still remember this conversation, but they won't."
"Back to the point," said Sullivan, giving McLaggen a quelling look, "I want all of you Suspects to remember these situations. Remember how certain you felt. Remember how easily you broke laws and regulations to reach your goals. You two," his stern gaze now included McLaggen's partner, "your grandmother was sick, so maybe it was all right to steal a Banned potion? If this had been a real case, the potion would've wreaked havoc on the wizarding population of Britain." He faced them all. "Follow orders, people. Go with what the Ministry and the regulations say. No matter what you think is going on, no matter what you think you may know. It's too dangerous to do otherwise."
Harry and Ron glanced at one another as the trainees murmured to each other, most of them nodding seriously and seeming to agree.
"Are you serious?" asked Harry.
"I beg your pardon?" said Sullivan, frowning, and Harry suddenly realized that this was the first time Sullivan had made eye contact with him today.
"Potter," Malfoy said in a low, warning voice. Harry bit his lip. Damn. This really wasn't the right time to do this. But he couldn't just let it go.
"Are you serious," Ron stepped in, "that we should follow what the Ministry says, no matter what? That's the lesson we're supposed to swallow here?"
"Do you have a problem with this, Weasley?"
"Yeah, I've got a problem. It's a load of bosh."
A general murmur of alarm went up from the room.
"I beg your pardon?" said an older Unspeakable. "Was your oath of loyalty to the Ministry just words to you, then?"
"No, it wasn't," Ron said angrily. "I'm loyal, yeah. And I'll follow orders, normally. But we're part of the largest Auror training group in decades for a good reason, right?" He looked around the room in disgust. "How many Aurors and Unspeakables had to be sent to Azkaban for having carried out crimes for the Death Eaters, just last year, while still following Ministry orders, because the Death Eaters had taken over the Ministry? Bloody hell, didn't we learn anything?"
"That is completely out of order, Weasley," said Trainer Philips, over the low rumble from the rest of the group.
"They do have a point, you know," said the elderly wizard next to him mildly.
"We've been running this particular simulation for decades," said Philips. "It's a standard part of training."
"Perhaps this part of it shouldn't be," said the elderly wizard.
"Oh really?" said Philips. "You think everyone should be given special consideration?"
"No," said Harry. "Everyone should use their brains, and follow their consciences."
Philips stared at him. "No matter what bizarre... choices their consciences lead them to make?"
Harry clenched his jaw. "Yeah."
"Excuse me?" said one of the older Aurors incredulously. "Are you putting your eighteen-year-old world wisdom ahead of the accumulated wisdom and experience of your supervisors?" He scowled at Harry and Ron. "You two shouldn't even be here. You didn't even finish your seventh year--"
"Oi, they didn't finish it because they were busy trying to save all of our arses!" snapped Seamus.
"We were asked to come into this program," said Ron furiously. "We didn't ask to come in without NEWTs."
"You could've turned down the offer, then," said an Auror who hadn't spoken up yet.
"But you didn't," added an Unspeakable next to her. "You came in unprepared, and now you expect everyone to kiss your arse?"
"No," said Harry. "But I don't expect to have you act like we wormed our way into the program and don't have any right to be here."
"You wanted us," added Ron, and Harry felt the warmth of his support like a blanket around him. They might be on shaky ground right now, but at least they were standing on it together.
"What do you think, Varley?" asked Philips. "Do you agree with them?"
Varley's eyes widened and she suddenly looked very young. "I... I don't know," she stammered, turning red. "I'd have to think about it."
"Malfoy? What do you think?"
Malfoy looked startled and nonplussed for a moment, then glanced at Harry and his face went unreadable.
"I asked you a question, Malfoy. Do you agree with your teammates?"
Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "Yes. The rest of the training exercise was useful. But I don't agree with the moral you're trying to teach us."
Ugly mutters broke out around the room.
"Typical Malfoy, think they can do whatever they please."
"He's just sucking up to Potter."
"Got a little too in love with the idea of being in love with him, did you Malfoy?" somebody called out from the back of the room, and Harry opened his mouth to give a sharp retort but something made him pause. Malfoy's arms were crossed and his jaw was set, and Harry somehow got the distinct feeling that Malfoy would not thank him for interfering.
"Hoping to do a different kind of arse-kissing there, are you?" sneered an Auror sitting near the trainees.
"Leave him alone, you hypocritical bastard!" Tracey Davis snarled at him, and Harry remembered she was a Slytherin too, from their year. The room erupted into chaos - and then Sullivan clapped his hands and shouted for order.
"We will continue this no doubt fascinating discussion tomorrow when we reconvene," he said. "Right now, the Ministry is allowing all employees to take the time to attend memorials. The one at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is starting in three hours." He looked around the room, seeming a bit at a loss.
Philips spoke up. "People, try to put this behind you. Remember we are both celebrating our liberation from tyranny, and mourning the deaths of those who did not survive You-Know-Who's reign."
"Pompous arse," muttered Ron, and Malfoy sniggered.
"Malfoy," said Harry, approaching Malfoy at the lift. "Erm, thanks."
Malfoy glanced at the other staff waiting for the lift and trying to ignore Harry. "For what?"
"For not turning on us in there," he said, feeling rather horrendously awkward.
"I agree with you," said Malfoy, seeming just as uneasy.
"Why?" said Ron curiously.
"I agreed with you even before you said it," said Malfoy. "You might want to remember I got a firsthand look at the folks who were all for Ministry loyalty, back when they could've stopped the Dark Lord, and didn't."
"Still," said Harry. "You didn't have to take a stand. You could've just waffled, like Varley."
"Varley's a certified twit," said Malfoy scornfully.
"Seemed pretty smart to me," said Ron.
Harry and Malfoy looked at each other, and Harry was surprised to realize they were almost sharing a disbelieving smile.
"What?" said Ron, defensively. "The Interrogators spent some time together the other night, doing extra training for the second interrogation. She's not as big a bitch as she seemed during the session."
"I haven't heard a civil word come out of her mouth since we started training," said Malfoy.
Ron shrugged. "I think it's political," he said.
This was a regular conversation, Harry realized. The three of them were interacting, voluntarily, not because of an assignment, he and Malfoy had no fake emotional bond between them... and nobody had yet thrown a hex. What a difference a year could make.
"See you later, Malfoy," said Ron, and turned to Harry. "Come on. Mum's said we should stop by The Burrow before going to the memorial." Harry nodded to Malfoy and turned to go with Ron - then stopped and turned back.
"Malfoy?" he said.
"Yes?"
Harry cleared his throat. "Erm. I also wanted to thank you for... well."
Malfoy stared at him curiously.
"In the paper, this morning," said Harry. "Skeeter came to you for a quote. Thanks for not giving her one."
Malfoy dropped his eyes and Harry realized to his astonishment that he was blushing.
"You're... welcome," said Malfoy stiffly.
"Why didn't you?" asked Harry.
Malfoy shrugged. "Your private life is your own business."
Harry nodded. "I appreciate it. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Ron cleared his throat. "Harry, I'll meet you at the Floo, all right?"
Harry blinked. Well. Unexpectedly alone with the man he'd had a profound crush on for the last two days, and who even now was worrying at the edges of his consciousness, though thankfully much more manageably now.
"Are you going to the memorial this afternoon?" asked Malfoy.
"Yeah. You?" asked Harry.
"I'm... supposed to."
"Do you not want to?"
Malfoy looked away. "Not really. I'm playing the memorial Quidditch game, but that's not the same, and considering what some people thought of that..."
Harry nodded sympathetically. Some of what had been said when it came out that Malfoy had signed up for the charity match had been... less than charitable.
"It's... I probably wouldn't go today, if I weren't an Unspeakable and already in the public eye," he admitted. "I'm sure there will be plenty of people who won't want anyone from my family there. But if I don't go, it'll just give them more ammunition against me." He shrugged, then almost smiled at Harry. "Although thanks to you I don't really have to worry much about being the centre of negative attention today."
Harry surprised himself with a small laugh. "True enough," he chuckled. "We'll see you there, then."
He walked away, and Harry mused over the morning, slowing down as he caught up with Ron at the Floo.
"Ron. Erm." He paused. Damn it, this was so awkward. He'd imagined the one-year anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts would be difficult enough, but had never in his wildest dreams thought he might have to be dealing with an unintentional outing at the same time.
"Are you sure I should come with you?" he asked, and Ron gave him a puzzled look. "Your mum reads The Prophet, Ron," he pointed out.
Ron's eyebrows went up. "Bloody hell, yeah. I forgot about that. Bollocks."
Harry sighed. "Why don't I just meet you at Hogwarts?" he suggested.
"No, don't be daft," Ron began, frowning.
"Look, you've got enough on your plate with... with all your family's going to be dealing with today." Which was probably an understatement. "I'll finish up some work at the library, then join you at the memorial. One o'clock?"
Ron's shoulders slumped slightly. "All right," he said, and turned away.
Harry turned and plodded to the Ministry library, almost empty as the building cleared itself out so that the staff could attend the memorial services or be with their families. He pulled out his parchment and quill and Moste Useful Speles: Expelliarmus Through the Ages, and tried to organize his thoughts. Let's see... he had the final write-up of his Expelliarmus research, a surveillance class report to finish, and an assignment on Foresight spells. He glanced around the library again, noticing that Malfoy was there too, in a dark corner of the library, with a large stack of blank papers and an empty book before him. He didn't appear to have noticed Harry's entry, as he peered closely at what looked like a blank piece of paper, then wrote something on the page which left no mark as far as Harry could tell. As Harry watched, he frowned and scratched out whatever he'd written and scribbled some more, leaving the page just as blank as before.
Go figure. Unspeakables.
The Wizard's Wireless was on in the background, a muted hum of inoffensive and relentlessly dull music. Harry supposed that was out of respect for the one year anniversary. The sound was soothing, distracting Harry from the morning's paper and the training session and even Malfoy's presence, and he soon found himself actually immersed in what he was doing. It certainly made homework easier when you were truly interested in what you were learning. Even Divination was interesting when taught by a competent teacher, and figuring out useful Divination spells for criminal investigations was actually somewhat fascinating...
He was deeply immersed in Criminal Dream Analysis when the music ended and a radio announcer's voice came on.
"And as we prepare to remember the sacrifice of those who died during the reign of You-Know-Who, and those who fought to end his reign, the wizarding world has been shocked by allegations that the main architect of You-Know-Who's demise is a homosexual." Harry felt an ache begin in his forehead at the announcer's smooth tone, and his prissy pronunciation of 'homo-seck-ssual'. "The Prophet broke the story this morning, and the wizarding world is in a tizzy trying to figure out what we think of this."
"Tizzy is pretty much how I would describe it, Howard, yes," said a woman's voice.
"Opinions range from disbelieving to outraged to amused. There are many who are saying that if true, these allegations do nothing to diminish the importance of what Mr. Potter has done for the wizarding world. Others say that while they still respect his accomplishments, they cannot in good conscience call him a role model any more."
"Well Howard, it's being pointed out, particularly among those wizards with close ties to the Muggle world," and Harry had to suppress a snort at her careful avoidance of the word 'Muggle-born,' a year after Voldemort's defeat, "that this is the kind of opinion we have to change in the wizarding world; our ways are conservative, and change slowly. Perhaps, they say, too slowly."
"Is that so?"
"Apparently in the Muggle world, a revelation of this nature would not be cause for alarm or dismay."
"Well, Wanda, be that as it may, still others remind us that even if the allegations are true, Mr. Potter is still a very young man. And many young people are... well, confused about their own sexuality, at least until they mature a little."
Harry sat, a blush heating his face and a desire to hex Howard making his wand hand itch. So he was either depraved or a confused child, was he? He suddenly wished Lee Jordan were on the radio right now, Lee would never have - but then, Lee was probably at The Burrow...
He caught Malfoy's eye across the library, and Malfoy gave him a small smile and a sympathetic shake of the head, then turned back to his own reading. The other three people in the library studiously bent their heads towards their work, except for one, who gave Harry a barely concealed sneer.
Bloody hell, there was nothing stranger than being on the same wavelength as Malfoy.
"And of course," chimed in Wanda, "once again rumours abound about the late Albus Dumbledore's sexuality, and questions about how close he and Potter may have become during Potter's formative years."
Harry shuddered.
"Here to talk to us about this is a classmate of Potter's, Pansy Parkinson. Welcome, Miss Parkinson."
Marvelous.
"Thank you, Wanda."
"Now, you were in Harry Potter's year, were you not?"
"Yes, I was. I can tell you none of us knew about this. None of us outside of Gryffindor house, anyway. Who knows what the Gryffindors knew; they were likely to accept anything Potter did, with no questions asked. He always got away with the most outrageous things at school."
"Didn't he do underage magic?"
"Yes, he did. He also performed magic in front of Muggles several times, and nobody cared. He was allowed to get away with it. Everybody still treated him like a hero no matter what he did."
"Yes, there are many people who admire him greatly. And many people quite disappointed in him right now. What would you say to that?"
"Well personally I've never understood why anyone idolized him. Honour him of course, as the person who was technically responsible for You-Know-Who's downfall, but see him as a role model? That's not quite right."
"It's interesting, though, not many people who know him personally have come out to speak against him."
"Probably because it's the memorial today," said Howard.
"Everybody still worships him, or is afraid of him," said Pansy snidely. "Which is why he wasn't disciplined back in school. He was very unstable, always has been. You know he almost killed a fellow student once."
"Yes, Draco Malfoy," said Wanda. "Who hasn't said much about this. He was not exactly known for being a friend to Potter; why wouldn't he come forward?"
"He's got his own reasons." Pansy's voice was suddenly rather tense.
"Why would he not back you up, though? You were in Slytherin House together, weren't you?"
"We were, yes," she said, her voice sounding angry. "But it's not like he'd know what house loyalty was if it came up and bit him in the arse." She paused. "Besides, I happen to know that Draco Malfoy is also gayer than a gift basket."
"What?!" said one of the others in the library faintly.
"Merlin!"
'A gift basket?' was the first thought that went through Harry's mind. Across the library, Malfoy's face had gone perfectly still, his quill stopped in mid-invisible word.
"Oh my," Wanda said. There was a small pause. "Now is that true, or are you trying to bring down Draco Malfoy because he is now an Unspeakable, going to play in the memorial Quidditch match, and you... are not?" There was a pause. "After reports of your actions during the Battle of Hogwarts, when you suggested handing Potter over to You-Know-Who--"
"That's nothing to do with it," snapped Pansy.
"Is it lack of House loyalty, or lack of loyalty to you?" said Wanda, her friendly manner gone and her voice strongly reminiscent of Rita Skeeter's on the scent of new scandal. "Has he broken ties with you because of the negative publicity over--"
"You people are all the same!" said Pansy, her shrill voice bordering on hysterical now. "I was scared, all right? I didn't see why the rest of us had to be killed just to protect one person. And most of you tossers who say nothing but shit about me would've done the same thing!"
"Miss Parkinson--"
"And it doesn't change the fact that Draco's queerer than a three-Knut coin, now does it? Couldn't get it up for a girl for all the Galleons in England!"
"Miss Parkinson--"
"And I should know, the freak, why do you think he was always such a drama queen whenever Potter was concerned? He wanted him, that's why. Wanted to take Potter and bend him over a desk and--"
"I think maybe that's enough," said Howard's voice hastily. "Thank you, Wanda, and Miss Parkinson - no, no that's really quite enough--"
But Harry wasn't listening any more, as he watched Malfoy's face flush, then go pale. Malfoy took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, before determinedly smoothing out his parchment and continuing his invisible reading, only a faint trembling of the hand that held the quill betraying his distress.
Except for Howard's smarmy voice on the radio, now apologizing for the inappropriateness of the little outburst on "this solemn day of remembrance," the silence in the library was absolute. Harry stared at Malfoy, his own work utterly forgotten, his mind a whirlwind. He glanced down at his work, surprised to note that apparently he was reading something to do with Divination.
Five minutes later Malfoy checked his watch and put away all of his things, his face still as perfectly blank as his parchment, then walked out.
The school grounds were full. It seemed as though most of wizarding England had shown up, with much of Scotland, Ireland, and Wales thrown in for good measure. Harry ignored the sidelong glances and outright stares, and not a few disgusted glares, as he wondered if maybe it might not have been wiser to have come with Ron's family after all. He might not have felt so exposed and alone, looking for them. Finally he spotted them near the seats that had been set up close to Dumbledore's grave, and Ron waved him over. He hesitated briefly, spotting Ginny standing next to Ron and looking rather put out, and Mrs. Weasley seeming a bit nervous. He steadied himself, and approached them.
"Dear, thank you for coming," said Mrs. Weasley, giving him a hug that didn't seem as warm and genuine as others she'd given him over the years. Harry felt a twinge at the loss, and wondered miserably if it was just due to shock and understandable distraction because of the day, or if she disapproved so strongly of him now that she'd never treat him like a son again.
"Harry, good to see you," said Charlie, taking his hand in a firm handshake and clapping him on the back. Bill, Percy, George and Lee merely nodded to him, their minds clearly elsewhere, and Fleur gave him a slightly chilly smile.
"You should have come to The Burrow, Harry," said Mr. Weasley.
Harry cleared his throat. "Erm, had some work I needed to finish up on. Besides... it's supposed to be a day for family."
"You are family, Harry," said Mr. Weasley reprovingly.
Hermione gave him a fierce hug, and they moved to sit down, all the Weasleys and their friends in a row. A small wizard in black started with a prayer and a blessing, as the audience quieted down. Soft murmurs and sighs, and a few sniffles and sobs, were heard through the crowd as the small wizard led them in paying their respects to the people lost one year ago.
Thank God he didn't have any kind of central part in this ceremony, thought Harry. He'd been asked several times and refused every single one, and it turned out to have been one of the wisest things he'd ever done.
They all sat in respectful silence as a Ministry official spoke about the lessons of the war, and then Kingsley reminded everyone of how far they had come in a year, with far less flourish and political posturing than had been seen in a Minister For Magic in all of Harry's memory.
Finally all those who had fought at the Battle of Hogwarts were asked to come stand in the front, and Harry again thanked God that he'd pushed to be just one of the people before the crowd, instead of The Boy Who Killed Voldemort Twice. Standing among students and their families, professors, members of the Order and the DA, and Hogsmeade villagers, it wasn't so difficult to face the crowd and note how many of them seemed to be whispering about him.
And then the formal part of the memorial was done, and they were all free to mix casually again. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing. Harry looked around, spotting Malfoy sitting stolidly next to his remarkably composed and serene mother, and wondered how either of them could manage that today of all days, in this place.
"Harry, it's so good to see you. I didn't know if you'd make it in today," said Hermione, giving him another hug.
"Of course," said Harry. "I wouldn't have missed it."
"I know you wanted to."
"Yeah."
Hermione shook her head at him fondly. "I know, you hate being the focus of attention. I still think it would've been good of you to say something, though."
"Are you joking? After this morning?"
"What about this morning?"
Harry blinked.
"Harry," said Ginny, coming up to him. He eyed her warily. "Good of you to make it," she said. "Though Mum would've preferred it if you'd been at The Burrow."
"Erm." His feet suddenly seemed too big for some bizarre reason, and he inwardly shook himself impatiently. Ginny wasn't being particularly friendly, but she wasn't being cold or hostile, either. He should have known she wouldn't cause a scene. She had the same look on her face that she had when he'd broken up with her the first time. Not the defensive, angry look as when he'd broken up with her the second time.
"Yeah, sorry about that," he said awkwardly. "Are you... are you all right?"
A wry smile twitched Ginny's lips. "Not broken-hearted any more, if that's what you're asking about." Harry felt a blush heat his face. "There are more important things in my life than you, Harry," she said, slightly angry. "For example, supporting Mum and Dad through this day. Supporting George."
"I know that," he said, hoping he didn't sound as defensive as he felt. "Which was part of why I didn't go to your home. I thought you'd have enough going on, you didn't need to make today all about me."
Ginny's eyebrows went up, then she gave him a small smile. "Right, yeah, I suppose you would see it that way. It wasn't necessary, though. You could've come. You would've been welcomed."
"Right. I... I'm sorry."
Ginny nodded. "Well, that's that, then. Excuse me, I've got to go back to Mum."
"What was that all about?" Hermione said, baffled. "And why would you think Ron's family would fuss over you today? They've never been like that."
Harry finally clued in. "You don't know, do you?"
"Know what?"
"Did you read the paper this morning?"
"God no," Hermione shuddered. "I couldn't stand to read yet another dose of Skeeter being self-righteous, or Ministry folks who sent Muggle-borns to Azkaban blithering on about unity. Why? Were they talking about you again?"
Ah. He blew out his breath. "The paper said I'm gay."
Hermione's mouth dropped open, almost comically. "You're joking."
"No, I'm not. I am gay, though. And I didn't want to be around the other Weasleys, when even Ron isn't comfortable around me right now."
"You're... what?"
"Gay. All right? Gay. Possibly bi, but I didn't particularly want to explain that one to Ron."
Hermione was blinking rather a lot. "Why not?"
"'But your sister made me hard' isn't something I want to say to him," he said impatiently, and Hermione blanched. "...or to you, to be honest," he finished, wincing.
"Thanks." Hermione shook her head, a bit dazed, then put an arm around him and hugged him close. "Come, let's walk down to the Memorial Wall. I think maybe you'd better tell me about this. Try to spare me certain... details, though."
Harry nodded and followed her.
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3 part 2
