If Paths Diverge

Chapter 25

He should have expected an ambush.

It was Monday morning and Harry was in his office compiling a current list of known members of the Knights when Hermione entered his office without knocking, followed by a grim-looking Ron.

Harry froze. He put down his quill and laced his fingers in his lap, touching his ring absently. He watched Hermione put up a privacy ward and felt his heart begin to race.

"We need to talk," Ron said, striding forward and looping his leg around the chair in front of Harry's desk.

He took out his wand and conjured another for Hermione, who was still hesitating by the door.

"Come on, 'Mione," Ron said, patting the chair he'd made. "Sit. We have to do this."

Harry felt his skin go cold.

"What do you want?" Harry said, trying to act unbothered. "I'm busy."

Ron nodded.

"And hiding from us."

Harry bristled.

"I'm not hiding." At Ron's scoffing sound, he reluctantly amended. "Fine, if I am, it's because you two are harassing me. Stalking me."

"We just want to help," Hermione said, coming over to sit in the chair at last.

"Yeah?" Harry said, amazed at her audacity. "I thought I'd made it clear that I don't want your help. And it's funny that you call it help, when what you actually want to do is get me fired."

"If you break the law, there are consequences," Ron muttered, but Hermione placed a hand on his arm.

"You won't get fired. Anyways, Harry." She looked serious. Remorseful but determined. "We are on our way to tell Kingsley."

Harry stood.

"You can't," he rasped, his hand flying to his earring.

Ron shot him a disdainful look, but Hermione replied.

"We can't wait any longer."

"But he hasn't done anything else!" Harry argued, placing his hands on the desk for support. "Not since Italy and I told you he wouldn't do any more, and he hasn't. Why now?"

"It's the bloody right thing to do," Ron answered. "We can't sleep knowing he's out there. We've got kids, Harry. We don't want to see them killed because we let you convince us to trust the Dark sodding Lord Voldemort."

"What if he's changed? What if he just wants to disappear? Hasn't he been through enough to allow that?"

Harry was terrified he would lose this argument. He kept speaking before they could interrupt.

"You didn't see him, Ron. Neither of you did. He was stabbed to death and then...raped while he was dead. He was drowned and whipped until his skin was literally hanging off of him in ribbons. He had suffered every day for twelve years, I promise you. He's not the same man."

His throat hurt and he swallowed a few times. Ron stood up and leaned over the desk between them, getting right in Harry's face.

"You want me to feel sorry for the man who killed my brother?" he asked in a deadly voice. "You want me to let him live, the man who killed Remus and Tonks and Colin and hundreds of other people— including your parents, Harry? You think a few cuts and bruises are enough to pay for what he's done?"

"Aren't you listening?" Harry shouted, getting in Ron's face too. "They fucking killed him almost daily for twelve years. Raped him with a violence that would make you piss your pants. He's... he suffers terrible flashbacks still. You haven't seen it, you don't know, but I have and if I can say he's paid his due, you had better listen to me. Voldemort has done more to me than anyone else."