Chapter Ten of 'Bard of Morning's Hope'- Bringing Him In
Chapter Nine.
Title: Bard of Morning's Hope (10/?)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Draco, Lucius/Narcissa
Warnings: Minor character death, violence, angst, gore
Rating: R
Summary: The Bard of Morning's Hope is a seemingly unstoppable murderer stalking former Death Eaters and former Slytherins, enacting vengeance on them in an untraceable way. In the wake of Lucius Malfoy's savage death, Harry Potter becomes the Auror assigned to guard Draco and Narcissa Malfoy from a similar fate.
Author's Notes: This is based on a prompt by Kain, who requested, among several other things, Harry being hired to guard Draco and Narcissa from a killer who was murdering Death Eaters in revenge, Harry having a good relationship with the Weasleys, and a slow-burn romance between Harry and Draco. This story should be somewhere between twelve and twenty chapters, and will be updated every Saturday.
Chapter One.
Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Ten-Bringing Him In
“Yes, I think you did the right thing,” said Kingsley, even though he was avoiding Harry’s gaze. Harry refrained from rolling his eyes, but it took everything he had. Kingsley hadn’t wanted him to arrest Dennis when it was simply the smuggling case that might cause a problem. He probably thought that word getting out of this arrest would be worse.
But Harry had done what he had to. There was more than enough suspicion connected to Dennis to bring him in. What happened from here on out might or might not lead to finding the Bard, or Dennis remaining in custody. But Harry had done the right thing.
“Are you going to have Grimstone and Adbar question him?” Harry asked. They were in Kingsley’s office, where Kingsley was or was pretending to be very busy with paperwork. Harry had seen Dennis to a holding cell and tested the efficacy of its wards himself before he came back to make his report to Kingsley.
“Why them?” That piece of parchment must be really fascinating, for Kingsley to have so much of his attention on it.
Harry restrained his impatience and said, “They know more about the kinds of magic the Bard leaves behind than anyone. They might consult with Hermione. They might also be able to sense that magic on Dennis,” he added, because he was a bit tired of Kingsley acting as though a popular political leader must never do anything wrong.
Kingsley finally sighed and looked up at him. “No, Harry,” he admitted, in what sounded like a croaking voice. “I’m not going to have Grimstone and Adbar question him.”
Harry tensed and locked his hands together behind his back, his head lifting. “Then-”
He was afraid that Kingsley was simply going to say they had to let Dennis go, but Kingsley waved his hand and cut off Harry's prepared speech. “I thought I would leave you that honor.”
“Right,” said Harry, after a moment in which he had to recover from feeling as though someone had thrust an icicle through his chest. “Am I allowed to question him on the smuggling case, too? You know, the one that he’s strongly connected to and is manipulating public opinion like any pure-blood to avoid being arrested for?”
“You question him on the suspicions he was arrested for,” said Kingsley firmly. “And on the information that he volunteered of his own free will. He didn’t need to come to you and tell you to search for Tatyana Kingston. Yet he did. Why? And why to you, of all people, when he had to know you suspected him for other things?” Kingsley finally paused in sorting the parchment and looked up at Harry, holding his eyes. “Maybe you can get enough evidence to convict him of one thing, anyway.”
I had the evidence we needed to arrest him. You were the one who decided not to move on that. But Harry tucked in his lips, hard, when he wanted to speak, and all he did was nod. "Right, sir," he said. "Of course." He made a little bow and walked towards the door.
"Harry."
Harry seriously considered walking on as if he had never heard, but as important as the Bard case was, it wasn't the end of the world, and defying Kingsley might be the end of his job. He turned around, although with folded arms to show how reluctant he was, and Kingsley made a little placating gesture.
"We have to consider the political realities," Kingsley said. "Not only the realities of right and wrong. I hate it as much as you do, but that's the way it is. And Dennis is too popular to arrest him wantonly."
"You sound as though you're talking about arresting him for prostitution," said Harry. "Sir. I'm not. I'm talking about connections to a case that you thought it important enough to assign Aurors to." Merlin knew that Aurors weren't assigned to every case, even the ones that Harry thought they should have been. But Kingsley had thought this smuggling case was important--until he realized who Harry's prime suspect was. "And now, it's murder."
"You realize that some people agree with the Bard," said Kingsley.
"Do you?"
"Merlin, no!" Kingsley's face was as pale as it could go. He raised one hand as if he would shield himself from Harry's accusation, then lowered his palm to the desk and looked at Harry imploringly again. "I'm just talking about why we need to move slowly and only arrest someone when we have a preponderance of evidence."
"Which we do now," Harry reminded him. Honestly, he was a little surprised that he had got away with walking Dennis into custody, and more than surprised that Kingsley had chosen Harry to be the one to question him.
"Yes. Now." Kingsley relaxed enough to give him another pleading look.
He wants me to say that I was wrong about recommending that we arrest Dennis for the smuggling case. Harry waited, arms folded, saying nothing, and Kingsley finally glanced away and sighed and said, "You can go on, then. The wardens of the holding cells have been directed to cooperate with you in every way."
"Thank you," said Harry in measured tones, and walked out.
*
"There's one thing I want to clear up right away," said Dennis, placing his hands on the interrogation table and leaning towards Harry.
All Harry did was look cautiously back at him. He knew Dennis had to be a much more skillful and powerful wizard than he had seemed to be if he could do the Bard's magic, or even if he had assisted in the Bard's rampage. So Harry kept one hand on his wand at all times, even as he shifted back in his seat and smiled politely at Dennis.
"What's that?" Harry asked, when it became clear that Dennis wasn't going to continue the conversation like a normal person.
"What I'm lying about and what I'm not." Dennis seemed a little pale, a break in that calm mask for the first time, but he met Harry's eyes without hesitation. "I want to speak my interrogation under Veritaserum."
Harry barely avoided saying something. He didn't remember the last time a just-accused criminal had willingly taken Veritaserum; mostly it was used on people who were so compromised that they knew they would be sentenced anyway, and hoped to gain some mercy through a willing confession.
But it was all to the better if Dennis confessed now. That way, they could more easily track down the Bard, or shut him away. Harry nodded and stood up. "I'll have some brought. Do you want someone else to witness the interrogation, as well?" They had started having at least two Aurors present at Veritaserum interrogations some years ago, in order to prevent both abuse of the Veritaserum by a single questioner and the prisoner managing to slip some lies past a single one.
Dennis, though, leaned back in his seat with his eyes flashing. "I'll confess to you only, or not at all. At least I know you could never be the Bard, or helping him," he added, when Harry hesitated. "You fought Voldemort all the time, and I know you want to arrest him. Other Aurors, who might sympathize with the Bard, I'm not so sure about."
Harry leveled him with a piercing gaze. "You sympathize with the Bard."
Dennis paused, then gave him a dark smile. "Not enough to take the fall for him."
Harry nodded. "Then you'll confess to me alone, but I want you to know I'll be putting the memories in a Pensieve to show others later." That was the only exception granted for a prisoner to confess under Veritaserum to a single questioner, if the prisoner agreed to the Pensieve notion.
Dennis sat there and worried his lip for a second before he inclined his head. "Agreed."
He must really be worried about being mistaken for the Bard, Harry thought, keeping his wand leveled at Dennis while he backed to the door and called out for the Veritaserum. Well, I can't blame him. The Bard was going to Azkaban for the rest of his life, there was no doubt about that.
The Veritaserum arrived. The Auror trainee who brought it seemed all puffed-up and important, probably assuming he was the one who would get to help Harry with the interrogation, but Harry smiled at him, took the Veritaserum, said, "Thanks," and shut the door in his face.
When he turned back, Dennis had his hands gripping the arms of the chair so hard that it looked as if he was about to break his fingers. Harry held his gaze. "You can still change your mind," he said
"No," Dennis breathed, and let go of the arms of the chair, sticking his tongue out to receive the Veritaserum.
Harry shook his head and placed the regulation three drops on Dennis's tongue. It was his funeral.
And possibly, though Harry was reluctant to think about how hard his heart was pounding, his answer to the mystery of the Bard.
Dennis blinked, and his eyes went glassy. Harry sat down across from him, asked him his name and his occupation and a few other test questions, and then leaped straight into the one that most concerned him.
"Are you the Bard of Morning's Hope?"
Dennis stared straight at him. Harry held his breath.
"No."
Harry shut his eyes. Well, there went one lead, anyway, and maybe most of his justification to hold Dennis for questioning.
But all wasn't lost. "Do you know who is?" he demanded, and once again leaned over the table when Dennis stayed silent for a second.
"No."
Harry held back the frustrated impulse to pound his fist into the table--it wouldn't change anything and also wouldn't look good in those Pensieve memories--and sighed. Perhaps Dennis had managed to dodge or lie somehow, as people could under Veritaserum sometimes if they weren't asked exact questions, but Harry's questions had been as blunt and straightforward as he knew how to make them. It was hard to imagine how one did dodge questions like that.
"Why did you bring me the name of Tatyana Kingston?" he asked, instead of giving up.
"I don't like her much, and her disappearances do coincide with Bard murders." Dennis faced him unflinchingly. "I hoped you would find something on her and arrest her to get her out of my business."
"What is your business? What do you mean?" Harry couldn't simply give up on his best lead in the Bard murders, not without asking more questions.
"Running the Muggleborn Legion." Dennis flinched and stared at the ground for a second, but then brought his head up and fastened his eyes on Harry. "You know as well as I do how unfair it is for pure-bloods to control so much of our world."
"You're talking about the way they twist the justice system and use their own popularity or family name to get out of paying for their crimes?" Harry asked, folding his hands on the table as if he was considering the matter deeply.
"That's the most important thing, yes," said Dennis. "If there is a crime, there should be justice. No one should be able to play a game with numbers and opinions, or money, or blood, to get out of paying for it."
"Then what about you?" Harry asked softly. "How is making yourself the head of the Muggleborn Legion and popular with Muggleborns, and then using that hold on public opinion to keep yourself safe from justice, any different?"
Dennis sweated for a moment, but Harry didn't think the Veritaserum had lost its hold. Rather, Dennis didn't know the answer to that himself, and it was taking the potion a minute to drag what he really believed from inside his soul.
"I haven't committed any crimes comparable to theirs," said Dennis, with a jerk of his head that Harry thought was meant to indicate all the pure-bloods in the Ministry. "You would know that if you weren't so bloody blinded by the airs they all put on. As if they're really purer or better than anyone else!"
"No," said Harry softly. "They aren't. But neither are you. What connection does Mariana Royal have with the Bard murders?"
"None," said Dennis at once. "Leave her out of this."
"What does it mean that there was a picture of her on your desk and also a picture of her at the same shop where the latest murder attempt took place?" Harry asked, and saw another trickle of sweat creep down Dennis's face.
"It means--that there was a picture of her in both places." Dennis was gasping a little now, but Harry knew he couldn't successfully fight the Veritaserum. Otherwise, he would have done it before now, to give a better-sounding answer about Kingston's name and actually defend himself when it came to the accusation of hiding from justice. "Nothing else."
Harry cocked his head. "Then why did the attack happen in Madam Royal's shop?"
"I don't know." Dennis's eyes flickered, but he gave the answer bluntly and without hesitation, the way he had the first two.
"Why was it an attack that didn't succeed, unlike so many others?" Harry was curious whether Dennis knew about the silver fire Harry wielded from Snape's memories, and whether Harry could make him admit that.
"Because you're you," Dennis said, and swished his head violently from side to side. "Has any attack succeeded since you took up this case? Even though you could argue the Malfoys deserve to pay the most of all?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "You think I have some unique power or ability to protect the Malfoys from the Bard?"
"Yes," said Dennis, and then clamped his mouth shut and looked mortified.
If Harry had been questioning someone with a more tenuous connection to the case, he might have let it go. Lots of people would be embarrassed if they had to confess their reverence for him outright instead of in a letter or private daydream. But this was Dennis, and this was a string of ten murders. "What do you think it is?"
"That fire you were weaving into the wards," said Dennis, his head hanging forwards as though he was ashamed to meet Harry's eyes. "And you--you mean so much to so many people. I think the Bard isn't pressing his attacks because he sees you as a hero. He would rather find some way to take out his victims that doesn't involve hurting you."
Harry clenched his fingers hard into his robes. "Dennis, you said you didn't know who the Bard was."
"I don't."
"Then how can you possibly know what he thinks?"
"I only know what people--similar to him think," said Dennis, and he gasped and put his hands over his face, mumbling out from between his fingers. "Like me, for example. And a lot of the other Muggleborns in the Legion. They've been unhappy about the Bard even attacking the Malfoys while they're under your custody. They think he should wait."
Harry sighed. This was the truth again, it seemed. "What kind of magic is the Bard using to get past wards?"
"I don't know."
"What kind of magic is he using to kill so many people in so many different ways and leave his signature behind?"
"I don't know."
And so it went. No matter what questions Harry asked after that, Dennis's answers were negative or nebulous. And when he asked again who the Bard was and whether Dennis knew or had helped him, all the answers were negative.
Harry asked in all the different ways he could think of, and finally stood up and stared at Dennis. Dennis stared back, his face pale and exhausted, his eyes still glossy with the effects of the potion.
"I wish I knew whether I could trust you," Harry whispered.
"You can trust the Veritaserum," said Dennis, his head bobbing in tiredness. "You have to trust it."
That much was true. Harry did, though, have to ask another question. "Would you be willing to have another Auror come in here and question you under Veritaserum?"
"No," said Dennis at once, and met Harry's eyes strongly. "And since I volunteered to take it and you don't have the evidence to tie me to a crime, you can't force me to."
Dennis knew the law. When it suited him, Harry thought cynically, and nodded. "Then I'll have the Veritaserum in the vial checked over, to make sure it's not been tampered with, and you checked over, to make sure you're not resisting."
Dennis only nodded back, and Harry backed up to the door, keeping his wand trained on Dennis, his frown deep. He would get what help he could, and show his Pensieve memories to the others, and maybe that would be enough to help him come up with the angle he had probably missed.
The angle he knew he had missed, no matter how carefully or cleverly Dennis had concealed it.
"Harry."
Harry paused in the middle of opening the door. "Yeah?"
"I'm sorry." Dennis studied him with piercing eyes that only a minute later gained the dull sheen of the potion again. "I never meant to put you in this position."
"But you would have put another Auror in it without regret?" Harry shook his head when Dennis's mouth opened and the answer got pulled out of him.
"Yes."
Harry sighed and opened the door. He would have the Veritaserum and Dennis both checked over, and hope that could settle some things.
He had the sinking suspicion, though, that both the Veritaserum and Dennis were going to pass the test. And that left him with no more clues than before.
Except the possibly useless one about the Bard maybe being a Muggleborn who thought he was a hero. Dennis had said he didn't think the Bard was a sentient curse, for what good that did.
And who doesn't bloody think I'm a hero?
Chapter Eleven.
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