Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

You'll Lie and I'll Believe	By : EloiseAtThePlaza Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 8401 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters, locations, aspects, etc. I do not make money from this fanfic.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
"Six months in Azkaban. I very much hope your incarceration will teach you that it is a crime, punishable by law, for students to venture outside of Hogwarts without special permission by the headmaster."
Duncan sat in a hard, wooden chair, looking up at Umbridge but not really seeing her. Six months in Azkaban. He wasn't sure whether to vomit, scream, or cry. He felt his father's hand tighten painfully on his shoulder, an obvious signal to remain silent.
"The guards of Azkaban will be notified of your imminent arrival; you'll spend the night in the Ministry's detention area before your transportation at dawn. Any questions?" Umbridge inquired in an innocent voice, staring down at them from her podium.
"I have one small question, Madam Undersecretary," Mr. Potage announced, his loud, confident voice echoing around the expansive courtroom.
"Do try to be brief, Mr. Potage," she replied, checking the time on her wristwatch.
"How can you explain the fairness of the Ministry's justice system when a teenager is locked up for truancy, but a Ministry employee isn't tried for rape?"
Umbridge sat up straight in her chair, her eyes bulging out of their sockets. "What are you insinuating, Mr. Potage?"
"Two days ago my daughter, Cora Potage, was attacked by one of your Snatchers. She has now disappeared. She's either been kidnapped or has run away out of fear that her assailant might come after her."
Umbridge's pudgy face turned an unpleasant shade of purple. "That is preposterous, Mr. Potage, simply preposterous! What compelled you to fabricate such a lie? You have no proof-"
"Pardon my interruption, but I do have proof, Umbridge," he cleared his throat, "Apologies, Madam Undersecretary. Cora briefly returned to us before her disappearance. My wife, Alinor, witnessed firsthand that Cora was sporting various scratches and bruises. Cora confided to Alinor that she had indeed been coerced."
"Your wife's word means nothing, Mr. Potage. Now, kindly desist from suggesting that my employees are guilty of sexual assault!"
"I have my wife's memory of Cora's confession," he brandished a small vial of silvery fluid.
"Be that as it may, your son's sentence still stands. We may discuss your daughter's issue outside of the courtroom, but for now-"
"I am very close with several newspaper editors including Barnabas Cuffe of the Daily Prophet. If I let slip that Ministry employees are now adding 'rape' to their list of offences, I'm sure someone will gladly publish the facts."
Umbridge remained silent while hushed whispers filled the courtroom. The court scribe was furiously scribbling away on a piece of parchment. The Snatchers were huddled in a corner of the courtroom, talking to one another.
"You are suggesting blackmail, Mr. Potage, and that is a criminal offense."
"Hardly. I am not demanding that you release Duncan in exchange for my silence. I will alert the public regardless of his sentence. My statement about Cora's attacker isn't slanderous; it's true and can be proven."
Barely listening to what his father was saying, a small movement caught Duncan's attention. He saw out of the corner of his eye that the lead Snatcher, the one with the plaid pants, had furtively exited the courtroom.
"Furthermore, I find it highly suspicious, Umbridge, that one of your Snatchers has just left the courtroom."
To emphasize Mr. Potage's statement, the backdoor of the courtroom clicked shut. Duncan redirected his attention to Umbridge. If looks could kill, he and his father would be stone cold in the earth. Umbridge took a steadying breath and muttered the two words that Duncan least expected to hear:
"Case dismissed."
Scabior wasn't one to run away from his problems. He usually stood his ground and suffered the consequences of his actions. But this was different; Yaxley would have his head for further tarnishing the reputation of the Ministry, in particular the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
His exit from the court room had more or less served as a complete confession of having taken advantage of Cora, just as Mr. Potage had described. Scabior's next logical step would be to resign, because there was no way he'd be able to keep his position of Snatcher after all of this.
However, there was one major problem. If he went to Yaxley and officially resigned, he'd be shipped straight to Azkaban. Scabior had only been out of the wizard prison for two years, and there was no way in hell he was going back. He'd spent five years there. He had lost his mind while inside his cell, and he still felt as if his sanity wasn't entirely intact.
The mass break-out of Azkaban had been a miracle. He had been sitting in his cell, staring off into space, muttering to himself. Screams and shouts had penetrated the hazy fog of his mind, and he soon realized that prisoners were breaking loose from their cells. He'd cried for help and an old, decrepit wizard had taken pity on him.
"Got a life sentence back in '43 fer killin' me brother," the old man had confided in Scabior. "I'll let ye out, boy, but ye 'ave ta promise me somethin': don't act a damn fool and get yerself thrown in 'ere a second time."
It'd been two years, but the old man's voice still haunted Scabior: Don't act a damn fool, don't act a damn fool. From the very moment he'd spotted Cora, he'd thrown caution to the wind, allowed his animal instincts to kick in and had moved in for the kill. He had been a fool, entangling himself with a pureblood witch. How could he have been so stupid as to assume she wouldn't tell her family or that her father wouldn't go straight to the Ministry?
Now Scabior was on the run. He didn't own a permanent area of residence, so he'd have to search around and find a vacant apartment somewhere.
As he entered a Potion shop in Knockturn Alley, he suddenly remembered that Alice Winthrop had an apartment. She'd fled the country, but he had still searched the apartment yesterday for any information about her current whereabouts. He suspected she was somewhere in North America; he recalled from her folder that several of her distant relatives lived across the pond.
Since Alice Winthrop was wanted by the Ministry, she wouldn't return to England anytime soon. As much as he disliked the idea of shacking up in a Mudblood's apartment in a predominantly Muggle neighborhood, he needed shelter. He'd been homeless since the Azkaban breakout; during his position as Snatcher, he had lived in tents with the rest of the gang. He now had enough money to afford a basic flat, but really, why bother? He only needed a temporary living space until he figured out how he was going to evade Yaxley, Cora's father, or anyone else who wanted him dead.
"Anything from the shop, sir?"
Pulled from his reverie by the sound of a man's voice, he turned around to face the salesclerk. He was an attractive young man, in his early twenties, and was eyeing Scabior hungrily. Scabior cocked an eyebrow and the young man's eyes darkened. Scabior was used to this sort of thing. He had always received attention from both sexes, even as a young wizard. These occurrences were now so common that he flirted back, regardless of their gender or his own sexual orientation.
"You look like you know your way around this shop. Is there any chance you sell Polyjuice Potion?"
The salesclerk smirked and gestured for Scabior to follow him to the back of the shop.
"Bit keen on changing your appearance, then? What's the story- you need information? Hiding from someone?"
Scabior's smiled faltered; he was glad the man's back was turned. "I'd love to tell you, mate, but then I'd 'ave to kill you."
The salesclerk chuckled, lifting a curtain to expose a dark room full of bubbling and gurgling cauldrons. Scabior swept past him, completely aware that the man was checking out his backside. This didn't disturb Scabior in the slightest; in fact, he could use this man's attention to his advantage. Polyjuice Potion wasn't cheap, but with a little luck he'd get a large amount for half the retail price.
"Do you take all of your customers to the back of the shop? Or just the really special ones?" Scabior asked, walking around the perimeter of the room to examine the brewing potions.
The salesclerk groaned low in his throat. "You seem fairly intelligent. I'll let you jump to your own conclusions."
It was Scabior's turn to chuckle. This was entertaining. He watched as the salesclerk hovered over a cauldron, carefully stirring its contents.
"How much will you need, then?" he asked, pulling several different-sized vials out of his waistcoat, looking at Scabior expectantly.
"'Ow much will you be willing to give?" Scabior shot back, quite proud of this sexual innuendo.
The salesclerk understood. He smiled for a moment, bit his lip, and then held out the largest vial.
"This sells for around fifty Galleons. I'll give it to you for forty if you can…persuade me."
Scabior let out a low whistle. "Sorry, mate. I'm going to need more than a vial of Polyjuice."
"How much more, exactly?" the salesclerk asked, his curiosity evident in his tone of voice.
"Oh, I think the entire cauldron's worth should suffice." Scabior mused, enjoying the utter look of shock on the salesclerk's face.
"Th-the entire cauldron? Merlin, what are you planning to do? Live as someone else for an entire year?"
"Something like that. Is anyone else in the shop?" Scabior asked, surreptitiously prying his wand from his holster.
"No, it's just me. Why? Do you…do you want to…?"
"Yeah. Yeah I do, actually. Imperio!"
The salesclerk donned a dreamlike expression. Scabior made his way over to the man, holding out a large bottle that he'd nicked from the front of the store.
"Fill this up with the entire potion, will you?"
"Of course, sir. Anything for you."
The man ladled the potion into the bottle until it was full. He handed it back and Scabior capped the bottle, shrunk it to a smaller size, and tucked it into his back pocket.
"Thanks for the 'elp. Now, for the price. Twenty Galleons is more than enough, don't you think?"
"Yes…yes, I do."
Scabior pulled out a handful of gold coins from his pocket and gave them to the salesclerk. He clapped the man on the back. "Thanks, mate. It's been a pleasure doing business with you. 'Ave a nice day."
Scabior left in a hurry, eager to get to the apartment, grab a bite to eat, and then search for a Muggle who was willing to spare a few hairs.
A/N: YES NEW CHAPTER! This took me forever to finish. I'd write a paragraph one day and then forget to write for a week :/
Thank you for putting up with my random updates! Reviews are lovely, as always.
Chapter title is from "Follow You Down to the Red Oak Tree" by James Vincent McMorrow.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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You'll Lie and I'll Believe