Riddle and the Ancient Contract

Chapter 43 : Werewolf

"You have a lot of animosity toward your father." Mind Healer Agnes stated.

Hari shrugged. "He was a bully."

"How do you know that? He died when you were a toddler."

"I've seen someone's memories. I've heard the 'funny stories' from my godfather about their pranks."

"These memories were from his school years? When he was still a child?"

"A teen. My age."

"Ah."

"What does that mean?" Hari bristled angrily.

It was the mind healer's turn to shrug. "Tell me about your father after graduation. After he fell in love, got married, had you."

Hari just stared at her. She finally looked away. "He died for us."

Agnes exhaled in frustration. "That's it? That's all anyone has told you of James Potter outside of his Hogwarts years?"

"Yes."

"I see." The healer rubbed her forehead. "People aren't one dimensional, Lady Slytherin. Are you the same person you were two years ago? Will you be the same two years from now? Will being a mother change you?"

"You're saying he may not have remained a bigoted bully."

"Yes. I am also saying that that wasn't all that he was in school. He had friends, doubts, desires. Did he have trouble in classes? What did he want to do after school? What was his home life like? How was he raised? I want you to ask people who knew him for stories that don't include pranking or bullying. Your godfathers, some of the older staff who taught him. Find out other people who knew him and write them. If you aren't comfortable saying you want the stories, say you are compiling a book of stories for your child who will never have another way to know his grandfather."

Hari scowled a moment then nodded. "I suppose I could be being too harsh on him. He was an auror. He loved Lily and me enough to stand between Voldemort and us."

Lily and me. She disconnects from her parents. "Yes, and that is an excellent example of how people aren't always the way we perceived them to be." She shivered slightly. "You might do the same for your mother."

Hari nodded absently noting the shiver. They had tied their mind healers down tight under heavy secrecy vows. They were having the dubious honor of delving into Voldemort's childhood issues. The man visibly quivered once he realized who he was counseling. And Merlin, Tom was going to be an absolute horror to deal with after having to talk about being a defenseless boy in that orphanage. He wouldn't even tell her the details just – childhood trauma.

"I'm not sure where to start." Mind Healer Eubrilis stammered.

"Where would you start if I weren't the dark lord?"

The mind healer swallowed hard and forced himself into professional mode. "I would ask what your earliest memory was and what your reaction to it was."

Tom nodded though he was scowling fiercely. "I was four perhaps five, it was my birthday. We never received much what with the war going on – a small cake, a single present. Sometimes it was clothing or a coat, sometimes a toy or a book. My birthday was in the winter. I got a nice heavy coat. Used, of course, but still in very good condition. Bradley Botts was seven. He had only gotten new trousers for his birthday. He took my coat and cut it up with a knife from the kitchens."

Tom trailed off, staring into the past, his face twisted with hate.

Eubrilis quaked. He cleared his throat softly. "Mmmy lord?"