If Paths Diverge

Chapter 28

Neville leaned against the wall beside Harry, passing him a steaming cup of tea.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, grateful for the warm drink and for the distraction from his dark thoughts.

He'd been here for three hours so far and had a pretty good idea what to put in his report. His fingers slipped inside his pocket, touching the warm metal ring and thrilling at the burst of comfort it sent him. With the Horcrux, his mind was able to focus like it hadn't been capable of doing for ages.

Unfortunately, that also meant he was more aware of the shitty situation he found himself in. More able to suffer.

"No problem," Neville replied. "Thanks for coming out to help. I feel so foolish, needing my place protected. It's mental that the BDE are coming after me so aggressively. Did you hear about what happened outside of the Leaky Cauldron?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah. Bellatrix, right? Merlin, she's such a psycho. You're lucky you got out of there alive."

"Yeah, but it was only a matter of time until she came for me, really. After that damn Skeeter woman found out that I had purchased Voldemort and—"

Harry dropped the cup and it shattered on the rocks.

"What?" he rasped, almost grabbing the chubby man by his shirt-front. "You did what?"

"Woah," Neville said, and pointed his wand at the broken porcelain, repairing the cup. "Did you not know?"

Harry's heart was stuttering and pounding, he could feel it in his tight throat.

"You bought him?" he asked weakly, then sat down hard on the rocks.

Merlin, just saying that conjured pictures that curled his fists in fury and shot adrenaline coursing through him.

But this was Neville. Voldemort had been responsible for his parents being placed in St Mungo's and had caused him so much suffering at Hogwarts that last year.

Surely Neville deserved some vengeance, right? Harry was supposed to support this farce, after all. The Boy Who Lived hated the Dark Lord Voldemort.

He thumped his head down against his knees, which were drawn up and pressing tight to his chest. He closed his eyes.

"Harry?" Neville sounded like he was sitting next to him now. He sounded worried. "I'm sorry if you didn't know. Was it that he's alive or that I bought him?"

Bought him.

Bought him.

Harry pinched the skin of his legs through his trousers, squeezing tight until it hurt.

This information was not supposed to affect him. He was an Auror. A Dark wizard catcher. This was supposed to be his job.

Harry lifted his head and tried for nonchalance, which he was sure that Neville wasn't stupid enough to believe.

"The... buying," Harry said. "I just didn't know you... bought him."

A pause.

"Does that bother you?"

Harry closed his eyes. Come on, you can do better than this. He snaked his hand into his trouser pocket again, wrapping his fingers around the metal and trying to relax. Get through this and then fall apart at home.

He opened his eyes and regarded his friend.

"No. Of course not. It just creeps me out."

"That I bought him?"