'Tell Me Pretty Lies,' by moongirlel

Chapter 76: 'I Must Not Tell Lies'

[Two Birds - Regina Spector]

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Mon. 4th September 1995 - 6:19pm...

Sitting on a stone bench, down the hallway from Professor Umbridge's classroom, I wait for my brother. He doesn't know I'm waiting for him to exit his detention before dinner time, but he needs me. I know he does.

Closing my book, I hear a door nearby creak open and the sickening sound of the pink toad's voice. "Do come again, Mr. Potter. Or don't." She giggled, "It's not my time you're wasting after all."

Harry hummed, and the door shut. He rounds the corner, pulling the sleeve of his jumper down to cover his hand from my view. "Jane, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at dinner?"

I stand, folding my arms, my book close to my chest. Shaking my head, I approach him. "I wanted to wait for you. Why was your detention so short?"

"...I have no idea." He answered.

A drop of red against the floor caught my attention. Another drip trickled down from his finger tips, and I grabbed his hand.

"Wait—"

Pulling his sleeve back, the words 'I must not tell lies' were etched into his skin, bleeding. His hand roaring red and already bruising.

He hissed, tugging his hand back in response to the pain.

"Did she carve that into your skin?" I ask, attempting to pull his hand back to get a better look at the damage.

"No... I mean, sort of? It's fine—"

"It's certainly not, it's far from fine." I glare at him, releasing his jumper from my hold. "You shouldn't be coming out of detention bleeding, Harry."

"I know, but it's hardly like I had a choice in that matter, Jane. Did I?" He groaned, covering his hand. "...please, can we just go to dinner and forget about this?"

"No." I shake my head again, "We're not forgetting about this."

He nudged his glasses up with the back of his other hand, moving them up to wipe underneath his eyes. "I don't really want to talk about it right now, okay? I'm tired, and I'm starving. And, I just want to go to bed."

"Fine. But we're coming back to this subject later in the week." I say.

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Harry had dashed on ahead of me to dinner, taking a quick detour into the bathroom to clean up his hand.

Not far from the Great Hall, McGonagall exits, a small smile upon her face once she spots me.

"Miss. Potter, may I have a word with you in my classroom?" She asked, "It's not anything you've done wrong, it's the opposite. Come with me."

I lift my arm, trying to gesture to the hall, but she had already walked too far away to notice. Nonetheless, I follow her.

She held the door open to the Transfiguration room, closing at behind us.

"Professor, why am I here?"

"It's hard to get some piece and quiet around here to talk. And I'm afraid that I've been holding onto this piece of vital information from you, for too long." She took out her wand, "I can't hold it from you any longer."

"Um... What is it you're holding back?" Crossing my arms, she guides me to sit down on a bench beside her.

"Long before you came to Hogwarts, or even knew about magic... Professor Dumbledore specifically told us not to interfere with your upbringing. Giving the circumstances, I couldn't sit back and watch those horrid Muggles lash out on you and your brother, and get away with it." She sighed, "This was my burden to bear, as well as the headmaster's and Hagrid's. We seen you off to the Dursley's, whenever I should of just kept you both myself."

I felt my face scrunch up, letting her continue. I place my book down.

"If I recall correctly, Harry spoke of a tabby cat who came to visit you. Yes?"

"Yes. She always seemed to show up whenever I was close to being severally harmed," I respond.

She nods, her smile softens further.

And then, it clicked.

"Your Animagi form is a tabby cat."

"Indeed." She raised her wand, "It was me. I would of tried to intervene, but Muggles don't take too kindly to cats transforming into humans — Gave quite the fright back in the eighteenth century. They were burnt, tragically. Quite frankly one of the reasons why our kind were forced into hiding, along may others."

We both let out a quiet laugh.

"...Although, I'm not here to speak to you about the history of our blood. I'm here to offer you a few memories back, if you're interested in having them. You see, a year or two before you joined this school, you seen two wizards fighting. It wasn't something you were meant to see, but I have reason to believe you had a bonding moment with Sirius Black."

"Can you give it back to me?"

"I can. But, I wish for you to play kindly to this new information, and not to go searching for the wizard who tried to harm us. Do you understand me?"

"I do."

She stood, entering the store closet at the back of the room. She pulled out a tiny jar of shimmering light; it swirled, flickering against the glass. "Now, I'm unaware which perspective this particular memory belongs to. It could be from yours, or Black's."

She returned to her seat, using the tip of her wand to guide the white string out off the jar. "I can always safely remove it again if you change your mind."

"Alright... Would you be able to give me more context surrounding the situation?"

"All in good time."

So, that was a no then.

And with that, she tilts my head up, instructing me to close my eyes. I heard her mumbling under her breath, and I found myself reliving the memory.

I was young, running up the street in my pyjamas and slippers, watching the two wizards fight against the dark sky. A tabby cat — McGonagall — transforming into a young woman wearing green. Soon, I was being guided by a black dog to safety, until everything went black, and I woke up in my bed an hour later.

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Blinking harshly, I pushed myself off the wooden desk. McGonagall was still in the room, marking some papers.

"How long have I been passed out for?" I mumble, sliding my book off the desk and into my arms.

"Not too long. Half of an hour, you can still make it to dinner." She answered, scribbling down notes and grades.

Moving towards the door, I set my hand on the doorknob. I paused, glancing over my shoulder. "Professor?"

"Hm," She peered over the top of her glasses.

"I'm sure you're very aware of... how quickly I can come to conclusions." I start, and she gave her full attention to me, lowering her quill.

"I seen Harry come out of detention with Professor Umbridge earlier, and he seemed really distressed... His hand, it was, um... red. Not from holding his quill too tightly, I think it was something else."

She made a noise, close to a hum. "Do you have reason to believe he could of been harmed?"

"Possibly."

"Thank you, Jane. I shall look into the issue."

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