HARRY:

At breakfast on Monday morning, an owl landed in front of me. This was odd, given my profound lack of mail that year, so I leaned forward to read the recipient's name off the envelope, sure it was a mistake. To the contrary, though, it bore my name.

I reached out to grab the envelope, thoroughly confused, but before I got the chance, several more owls landed on the table in front of me, some going to me and some going to Lucy, all bearing envelopes except for one, who was holding a cylindrical package. This one hopped over to Lucy, whose eyes widened.

"Here, Harry, open it, I think I know what this is," she said, tossing it to me.

As I tore the packaging away, I realized that The Quibbler had arrived.

HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST: "THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN"

WITH THOUGHTS FOR THE SKEPTICS FROM LUCY DIGGORY, HARRY'S STRONGEST SUPPORTER

I felt my face heat at the thought of Lucy being publicly declared my biggest supporter, but when she read the headline, she smiled from ear to ear.

"Finally, honest reporting!" she declared, slapping the magazine down for everyone else to see.

Luna lowered herself between Lucy and Fred. "It's good, isn't it? It came out yesterday, I asked Dad to send you a free copy. I expect all these are letters from readers," she added with a gesture toward all of the gathered owls.

Hermione nodded excitedly. "That's what I thought! Harry, do you mind if we — ?"

"Go for it," I said, reaching for a letter myself and skimming it.

Ron shook his head. "This one's from a bloke who thinks you're off your rocker, ah well..."

"This woman recommends you try a good course of Shock Spells at St. Mungo's," Hermione reported with a frown.

"This one looks okay though... hey, she says she believes me!" I said, holding it up triumphantly.

Fred laughed at the letter he was reading. "This one's in two minds. Says you don't come across as a mad person and what Lucy said seems reasonable, but he really doesn't want to believe You-Know-Who's back so he doesn't know what to think now. Blimey, what a waste of parchment!"

"Here's another one you've convinced, Harry! 'Having read your side of the story I am forced to the conclusion that the Daily Prophet has treated you very unfairly. Little though I want to think that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned, I am forced to accept that you are telling the truth.'" Hermione sighed with relief. "Oh, this is wonderful!"

A distinct sickly sweet voice interrupted us. "What is going on here? Why have you got all these letters, Mr. Potter?"

I glanced up to see that Umbridge was standing behind Luna and Lucy, and she was looking rather suspiciously at the owls and letters and envelopes now littering the table.

Fred huffed. "Is that a crime now? Getting mail?"

"Be careful, Mr. Weasley, or I shall have to put you in detention. Well, Mr. Potter?"

I bit back a sigh. I didn't want to tell her, not really, but I knew she'd have to find out sooner than later. "People have written to me because I gave an interview. About what happened last June."

"An interview? What do you mean?"

"I mean a reporter asked me questions and I answered them. Here."

I chucked the copy of The Quibbler at her, and to my disappointment she caught it. While she studied it, I glanced at Lucy. She was pretending to read the letter in her hands, but she had a calculating look in her eyes. Before I could try to get her attention, Umbridge spoke again.

"When did you do this?"

"Last Hogsmeade weekend."

"There will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you, Mr. Potter. How you dare — how you could — I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Fifty points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detentions."

Lucy's eyes flashed, and in a single fluid motion, she whirled around on the bench so she was facing Umbridge and summoned the magazine wordlessly into her hand.

"If you don't mind my asking, Professor, what exactly do you think happened that night?" Lucy's voice seemed sweet enough, but there was a cold edge to it that made Umbridge take a step back. "Since you seem to be such an expert on the difference between truth and lies, I would love to hear how you think my brother died."

"His death was nothing more than a tragic accident," Umbridge said, her voice rising with anger.

"Oh, I know you think that, but how do you think it happened? Do you think Cedric just, I don't know, accidentally jumped in the way of the Killing Curse?"

"What I think is irrelevant — "

"Is it? You sure seem awfully convinced that Harry is lying, for someone who has no idea how my brother actually died." Lucy placed the magazine back into Umbridge's hands and turned back around on the bench. "Maybe you should give that article a read, I'm sure it would be very educational. My brother was murdered by Voldemort, and to think otherwise is ridiculous, not to mention a complete disgrace to his memory."

"You can join Mr. Potter in detention, Miss Everlin, tonight at five o'clock," Umbridge snarled as she marched to the teachers' table at the front of the room, Quibbler clenched tightly in her hand.

I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned. "Lucy, why would you — "

"You can't honestly say you expected me to just sit here in silence."

"We both know you have more to lose than I do," I said in a softer voice as I lifted my head to look at her.

Lucy's eyes were swimming with tears. "And I'm ready to lose it if it means the world knows the truth." She grabbed her stack of letters and marched out of the Great Hall before the tears could fall.

I swore under my breath as I gathered up my letters too and hurried after her. When I found her, she was leaning forward on a fogged-up windowsill, the letters bulging out of her schoolbag.

"Lu, wait, I'm sorry!" I said as I jogged to her side.

She didn't look away from the windowsill as tears rolled down her cheeks. "You have no reason to apologize."

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't upset me, I just — Umbridge, she — I wish there was something I could do to make all of this stop. The detentions, the decrees, all of this."

"Me too," I admitted. "Lucy, I don't want you to have to lose anything else. I think you've already lost enough."

"And what has that achieved?" she asked in a voice that cracked on the last word. She sniffled. "How much more will we have to lose for the world to see the truth?"

I hesitated. "I don't know."

Lucy paused for a moment. "Well, it's alright that you don't know. It was something of a rhetorical question. I reckon you would have to replace Professor Trelawney if you did know the answer."

"First order of business would be installing vents. Her classroom does have a nice view of the grounds, if you can see through the smoke and steam."

Lucy laughed weakly, finally turning to me. "How dare you make me laugh while I'm mourning the fate of the world?"

"How dare you mourn the fate of the world when I could be making you laugh?" I replied with a smile.

She grew more serious. "Maybe there's a lot more reason to mourn than laugh."

"Maybe that's why you should laugh every chance you get." I nudged her shoulder. "C'mon, Cub, surely in all these years with the Weasley twins you've learned a lesson or two about dancing in the rain?"

"Maybe dancing is better with two people," she said, a bit of a smile returning to her face.

I stepped back and held my hand out to her. "Care to test that theory?"

"You can't be serious," she replied even as her smile widened.

"You're right, I can't be. I'm too busy being Harry."

Lucy slipped her hand into mine, and I spun her in a circle before (reluctantly) releasing her hand.

"We'll be alright," I said. "Maybe the world is falling apart, but we aren't. Right?"

She nodded, red flooding her cheeks. "Right." She sighed. "Well, dancing is better with two people. Let's see how detention with two people goes."

🩵💛❤️💜

Having detention with Lucy again was even more torturous than just the quill slicing into my skin. It was even more torturous than it had been every other time, because every little gasp and wince coming from her sent a sharper dagger through me. She meant the world to me, and she was in this mess because of me. It all made me sick to my stomach, and I had a headache that just kept getting worse and worse and worse and worse.

Finally, we were free to go for the night, not without a reminder that we had four more nights to serve detention that week.

As soon as the wretched office was safely behind us, I stopped and turned to Lucy. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, sighing shakily. "Are you?"

"I'm fine. Let me see your hand."

"Trade you," she said in a pained voice, and we each examined the other's bleeding hand. "Merlin, she's awful. Do — Do you regret it?"

I looked around and nodded at one of the signs that had gone up today.

by order of

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven.

Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, high inquisitor

"Like Hermione said earlier, banning the Quibbler was absolutely the best way to make sure everyone read it," I said. "Seamus told me he believes me now, I saw Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle talking among themselves in the library earlier and looking rather upset since I named all of their fathers as Death Eaters, and people have been talking about it all day between classes. I wouldn't regret it even if I'd only convinced one single person, but knowing so many people believe me now makes everything worth it."

Lucy smiled a bit. "You're sure?"

"Positive. I was rather tired of everyone thinking I was mad."

"Well, that's fair. Luna told me that no edition of the Quibbler had ever sold out faster, and her dad's reprinting, so I reckon you'll convince even more people by the end of the week."

"Were the letters you got encouraging? I'm sure you were the one who did most of the convincing."

She shrugged. "A lot of my letters were just people saying they were sorry for me and that my brother sounded like a great wizard. A couple of healers from St. Mungo's who worked with him said that they missed him and that if I had even a fraction of the talent that he had that an internship was all mine if I wanted one."

"Well, that's great! Do you? Want an internship there, I mean? Your brother did it between his fifth and sixth years, didn't he?"

"He did. I just don't know if that's — I don't know." She fell silent and disappeared into her own world for a moment. She flexed her injured hand so I must not tell lies showed more clearly against the other scars on her hand. "That murtlap essence is going to feel great."

"Definitely," I agreed as we stepped through the portrait hole into the common room.

It instantly became clear, though, that the murtlap essence would have to wait. A party was in full swing, and a loud cheer went up as soon as Lucy and I were spotted. The cover of The Quibbler had been enlarged so that it covered the better part of one of the walls, making our faces on the cover larger than life.

"Sweet Merlin," Lucy muttered just loud enough for me to hear as Fred and George descended upon us.

"Welcome back, heroes of Hogwarts!" George said. "You've got quite a crowd assembled here who would love to know more about the interview! Only if you're up for it, of course, because Hermione's got the murtlap essence waiting up in her dormitory if you'd rather start there."

"I'm alright." Lucy had already pulled her sleeves down over her hands and crossed her arms. "Drop the titles, though, 'heroes of Hogwarts' seems a bit premature. What do they want to know?"

As it turned out, several people were bursting with questions for both of us. We answered as best as we could, both hiding our hands, both trying to keep up the brave face everyone expected from us.

After a while, people began to run out of questions and head off to bed, so Lucy and I were finally free to head up to her dorm and soak our hands. Parvati, Lavender, and Hermione were all still up, and I didn't miss the somewhat surprised looks on Parvati and Lavender's faces when I arrived behind Lucy.

"The bowls are on your nightstand, Lucy," Hermione said without looking up from her book.

"You're a lifesaver," Lucy sighed. She hurried over and grabbed a bowl, passing me the other one.

Parvati studied us as we sat cross-legged next to each other on Lucy's bed. "Why do you need the — oh Merlin, why on earth are you both bleeding?"

"Don't get detention with Umbridge," Lucy said, dipping her hand into the solution. She winced as she pulled it out and flexed her hand again. She glanced at me. "Why aren't you dipping your hand yet?"

"Oh, just making sure you were alright," I said as I followed suit and relief flooded through me.

"Are those words?" Lavender squeaked. She and Parvati were both staring at Lucy's hand in horror.

She rapidly submerged it back into the bowl. "Oh. Yeah. 'I must not tell lies.' She wasn't happy about the article."

Parvati made an indignant sound, her eyebrows furrowing. "But you weren't lying! Oh, that cow!"

"That's so unfair," Lavender said. "Oh, your brother would kill her if he knew!"

Lucy smiled to herself. "A couple months before he died, he told me that right and wrong don't always play by the rules. The longer this year drags on and the worse Umbridge gets, the more I'm beginning to realize just how true that is."

"I think he was onto something there." I glanced at Lucy with a knowing smile. "Sometimes you have to break a couple of rules to do the right thing."

"And sometimes, the wrong thing — " She gestured emphatically toward the bowl in her lap. " — is allowed by the rules. Oh well, at least Umbridge hasn't changed the value of the Golden Snitch. I was worried she would change it to 130 points instead of 150 points so we'd lose."

We all laughed at that, and even Hermione joined in on the fun when we started throwing out suggestions for ridiculous new rules and decrees Umbridge could implement.

It would have been nice if my night ended with that, but it didn't. My head was still pounding as I headed up to my dormitory, and it continued to pound as I drifted off to sleep.

I found myself sitting in a chair before a man kneeling in black robes.

"I have been badly advised, it seems," a horrible voice said. My voice. Not my voice, necessarily, but... my voice. It was coming from me.

"Master, I crave your pardon," the man in front of me said.

"I do not blame you, Rookwood." I rose to my feet and approached the man. "You are sure of your facts, Rookwood?"

"Yes, my lord, yes. I used to work in the department after all."

"Avery told me Bode would be able to remove it."

"Bode could never have taken it, Master, Bode would have known he could not. Undoubtedly that is why he fought so hard against Malfoy's Imperius Curse."

"Stand up, Rookwood." The man did so immediately, and I got a decent look at his face, though he wouldn't stand all the way up. "You have done well to tell me this, very well. I have wasted months on fruitless schemes, it seems... but no matter, we begin again, from now. You have Lord Voldemort's gratitude, Rookwood."

The man seemed immensely relieved. "My lord... yes, my lord."

"I shall need your help. I shall need all the information you can give me."

"Of course, my lord, of course, anything."

"Very well, you may go. Send Avery to me."

The man bowed and darted out of the room. When I turned toward the mirror on the wall, I saw who the voice, my voice, truly belonged to.

Voldemort.

"NO!"

"What?" someone asked nearby, but I was too panicked to really register it as I jerked awake.

I thrashed around so violently I managed to tangle myself in my sheets and crash to the ground. I was incredibly disoriented for a moment, terrified of seeing his face again, but Ron's voice brought me back to reality.

"Will you stop acting like a maniac, and I can get you out of here!" Ron tugged the sheets off and pulled me to my feet. "Has someone been attacked again? Is it Dad? Is it that snake?"

I clutched at my forehead, which was burning horribly. "No — everyone's fine — well, Avery isn't, he's in trouble — he gave him the wrong information — he's really angry — but Rookwood's going to help him now, he's on the right track again."

Ron blinked. "What are you talking about? D'you mean... did you just see You-Know-Who?"

"I was You-Know-Who. He was with Rookwood, he's one of the Death Eaters who escaped from Azkaban, remember? Rookwood's just told him Bode couldn't have done it."

"Done what?"

"Remove something. He said Bode would have known he couldn't have done it. Bode was under the Imperius Curse, I think he said Malfoy's dad put it on him."

"Bode was bewitched to remove something? But — Harry, that's got to be — "

"The weapon. I know."

Dean and Seamus entered the dormitory then, so I jumped back into bed to dispel any suspicion that something was wrong.

Ron leaned closer, pretending to be getting water from the jug on my nightstand. "Did you say that you were You-Know-Who?"

I nodded.

"Harry, you've got to tell — "

"I haven't got to tell anyone. I wouldn't have seen it at all if I could do Occlumency. I'm supposed to have learned to shut this stuff out. That's what they want."

"At least tell Hermione and Lucy?"

I nodded after a second. "They'd want to know."

I leaned back against my pillow, trying to will away the lingering feelings of illness. Ron shuffled off to bed, and as soon as I was alone with my thoughts once again, my mind again drifted to Lucy. The way she'd been there the last time I'd had a nightmare about Voldemort, cool and calm and collected and comforting. The way she'd been there after my nightmare about Mr. Weasley, too, steady and sensible and sure and sweet. I hoped she'd be the same way when I told her about the most recent nightmare — no, I knew she would be. That was just how Lucy worked.

Surely enough, when I got around to telling the girls next morning, Lucy looked at me. Just looked at me. I knew what she was thinking, I knew she was worried about me and worried about Voldemort and worried about the timing of it all, but before she could say anything, Hermione leaned forward.

"So that's why they killed him. When Bode tried to steal this weapon, something funny happened to him. I think there must be defensive spells on it, or around it, to stop people from touching it. That's why he was in St. Mungo's, his brain had gone all funny and he couldn't talk. But remember what the Healer told us? He was recovering. And they couldn't risk him getting better, could they? I mean, the shock of whatever happened when he touched that weapon probably made the Imperius Curse lift. Once he'd got his voice back, he'd explain what he'd been doing, wouldn't he? They would have known he'd been sent to steal the weapon. Of course, it would have been easy for Lucius Malfoy to put the curse on him. Never out of the Ministry, is he?"

I nodded slowly along to what Hermione was saying. "He was even hanging around that day I had my hearing, in the — hang on... he was in the Department of Mysteries corridor that day! Your dad said he was probably trying to sneak down and find out what happened in my hearing, but what if — "

"Sturgis," Hermione said with wide eyes.

Ron blinked, confused. "Sorry?"

"Sturgis Podmore! Arrested for trying to get through a door. Lucius Malfoy got him too. I bet he did it the day you saw him there, Harry. Sturgis had Moody's invisibility cloak, right? So what if he was standing guard by the door, invisible, and Malfoy heard him move, or guessed he was there, or just did the Imperius Curse on the off chance that a guard was there? So when Sturgis next had an opportunity — probably when it was his turn on guard duty again — he tried to get into the department to steal the weapon for Voldemort, but he got caught and sent to Azkaban! And now Rookwood's told Voldemort how to get the weapon?"

I half-nodded, half-shrugged. "I didn't hear all the conversation, but that's what it sounded like. Rookwood used to work there. Maybe Voldemort will send Rookwood to do it?"

"But you shouldn't have seen this at all, Harry," Hermione said after a moment, her tone instantly shifting from speculative to scolding. "You're supposed to be learning how to close your mind to this sort of thing."

"I know I am, but — "

"Well, I think we should just try and forget what you saw, and you ought to put in a bit more effort on your Occlumency from now on."

"Hermione, he's already seen it," Lucy cut in. "Yesterday was stressful and emotional and he accidentally saw something. It happens." She glanced at me. "D'you want to duel me in the Room of Requirement tonight? It could help you let off a bit of steam."

I nodded, glaring at Hermione for a minute before looking back at Lucy. "Sounds good."

We did have a duel that night after detention, and we did the same for the rest of the week. We had to cancel D.A. meetings because of the detentions, but I didn't consider it too much of a loss since it meant not having to see Cho after the awkwardness of the week before.

Change was in the air. We could see it in every glance our direction that was appraising instead of apprehensive. We could hear it in the whispers around the school about the interview and what Lucy had to say. The mail kept coming, more and more people convinced every day. Lucy and I did our best to take these little victories in stride, and having the detentions all week certainly kept us humble, but bit by bit by bit by bit, we started moving forward. Change was in the air, and we were more than ready for it.