So Many Secrets.

It Isn't My Fault

"I can't do this!"

"Harry, we have to-"

"No. I don't know what I was thinking, he'll hurt me! He will!"

"P'fessor, could I talk teh 'Arry fer a mo'?" Hagrid asks. "Privately?"

Dumbledore nods, so he and everyone besides Hagrid and me leave. 

"'Arry, if yeh really don' want teh go, I ain't goin' teh let them make yeh," he says. "But I want yeh teh know, I ain't gonna let anythin' happen to yeh. Yeh got that? I'm a ten-foot tall wizard an a 'alf-giant, so... well, I ain't' gonna let nobody 'urt yeh. They'll hafta kill me, first, and I doubt that any Muggle like the Dursley's could take me down."

I really don't think I can do this. Not even with Hagrid there.

"I... I want to, but..."

"I'll be with yeh the entire time, 'Arry. Yeh can sit right next to me the whole time. If yeh don' want the be there, or yeh want teh leave, yeh can take a break whenever yeh want, got that?" He gestures for me to walk over to him. I do. He towers over me, even when he's standing, but it's never scary. Not like Uncle. Hagrid would never hurt me. "Do yeh think yeh can try, 'Arry?"

"I... I really want to..." I look down at my feet. "I think so."

"D'yeh want a hug, 'Arry?" 

I can't help but nod. 

This is bloody terrifying.

"Ready teh go?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Righto. Come on, then."

We go out into the stairwell where they're all waiting. Well, I do. Hagrid can't fit until we all get out.

"I'm ready to go," I mutter.

We take the Floo to the Ministry. I'm surprised Hagrid could fit through the fireplace. After we get there, we go to a lift, which is horrible, and I almost vomit. 

This is a bloody great start, now isn't it?

So. The Ministry gets to call people to talk, and they question them? And then Aunt and Uncle's lawyer does the same?

Fine.

They call Mrs. Figg first. They ask her about my Uncle and Aunt. How they treated me, versus how they treated Dudley. She's honest. I always did like Mrs. Figg, even if she has twenty cats and her house smells like kitty litter. She was nice, and that's what mattered. 

After her, they call me.

Right away, huh?

And they go right into it all. 

Him, her, Dudley, abuse, everything. 

When the Ministry lady asks me questions, it... isn't so bad... I don't like it, but it isn't... horrible. 

When their lawyer starts...

It's like torture. 

It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault. 

Me. Me. Me. 

My fault. 

"It's all my fault..."

"So you agree, Mr. Potter?"

I look up. He's grinning. 

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. 

"No. No, I didn't-"

"You agree that it was your fault, and not your relatives?"