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Breaking Forwards	By : lastcrazyhorn Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > General Views: 13749 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Not mine. J.K. Rowling's fandom. She's makes money off these stories and I do not. Nor will I ever. Harry Potter is all hers. sniffles But the weird twisted shit? Muahahhaa.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
A/N – Really, I think I'm evil. Alas, if only being evil weren't so much damned fun.
Chapter 21 – Understanding the Implications
Arthur Weasley was having breakfast with his wife the next morning when the call came through the floo.
"Arthur?" Kingsley's face appeared in the flames. "Might I come through?"
"Certainly," Arthur answered with the sort of smile one gives in the early morning hours.
"Care for a cup of tea, Kingsley?" Molly asked after he appeared in their sitting room.
"I can't Molly. I have rather urgent Ministry business to discuss with Arthur," Kingsley answered apologetically.
"It's not You-Know-Who, is it Kingsley?" She quickly asked, her forehead creasing in worry.
"Not as far as I can tell," Kingsley answered, giving her a charming grin that disappeared as soon as she left the room.
"What's this about, Kingsley?" Arthur asked, concerned.
"There's some bad business going on," the auror explained; his face unusually dour.
"What kind and what do I have to do with it?"
"I need to know where you were last evening between the hours of six and midnight."
"What's going on Kingsley?" Arthur looked hard at the man opposite him.
"Just answer the question, Arthur," Kingsley said with an equally critical look.
"Six to eleven I was at my office, and then I was here by midnight for sure, maybe a few minutes before," he answered, his voice wavering a bit.
"Was anyone there with you?"
"Perkins left about eight," Arthur answered, his voice dropping to a whisper as he realized the implications of his statement.
"And no one else was there after that?"
"No."
"I'm sorry Arthur, but I'm going to have to ask you come along to the Ministry with me," Kingsley finally said with a sigh.
"Then at least tell me what is going on?"
"Arthur, you know I can't," Kingsley answered apologetically.
"What should I tell Molly?" Arthur's eyes were wide, his lips nearly white from trying to keep control of himself.
"Tell her that we need you at the Ministry. There has been an incident at Hogwarts, and we believe that you may be our best bet for clearing up any lasting confusion."
. . .
Rodney slept badly. Things that he hadn't thought about in years came up in his dreams that night, things that he very much would have preferred to have left buried firmly in the past where they belonged.
He had been standing in a room full of people, most of which whom had been dead for some time; the little girl who had laughed at him in his first ever charms glass, half her face rotted off with one bony finger pointed out at him; morphing slowly into an image of his first wife staring dolefully at him, a hole in her stomach showing the remains of her organs; numerous Weasley cousins, red hair and all, leering cruelly at him, cackling madly in his ears.
"You're the worst Weasley that ever was!" They used to shout at him before he had ever set foot in Hogwarts.
He awoke with tears in his eyes for the first time in a long time, and sat up quickly, cradling his pounding head in his hands.
"They were wrong, they were wrong," he whispered vehemently to himself, arguing against the cocky memories still shouting nauseatingly loud in his head.
He remembered the fervor to which he had applied himself while learning how to make the poison that would eventually eat out his dear wife's innards. It had been worth the trouble of constantly brewing the lust potion which he had ensnared her with, just to be able to have to chance to laugh at her when she began vomiting blood onto her clothes.
That certainly had taught her to laugh at him for stuttering through his first class.
Not that she had remembered that. In fact, by the end, she hadn't remembered much of anything, which was just fine with him.
An image of Narcissa Black floated past his mind's eye and he sighed remorsefully. Oh how he had envied his Black cousins! The first time he had ever met them, he had known, he had finally understood what it was like to be surrounded by one's family.
Of course, the rest of his family had ignored them; going on with their business as if the other side of the family wasn't even in the room. Who were the snobby ones then? The rich Black cousins? Or the stuck-up know-it-all Weasleys?
It certainly hadn't been his last interaction with that side of the family. He had sought them out a time or two each year during his Hogwarts days, making connections, learning, watching, seeing how they interacted, how they coexisted.
He remembered being approached by a very young Lucius Malfoy, the boy couldn't have been any more than a third year really, and being asked why he wasn't a Snake like them? And the sound of his cousin Bellatrix's laughter in response, the girl had always been insane as far as he was concerned.
With another sigh, he finally stood up and began getting ready for the day. Reminiscing was all well and good, but he had things to do that day, and he didn't have time for it. Idly he scratched at his head, never noticing the strange dark glow that briefly appeared while he did so.
. . .
"Severus? Sir?" Harry bounced into their quarters that night, nearly smashing headfirst into the older man in his excitement.
"Harry? Is there something wrong?" Severus asked, catching the boy gently and leading him to sit down at the sofa.
"Is it true sir? Is it true that he, that—," he babbled on until he was shushed by one of Severus's long fingers being laid across his lips.
"Is what true?"
"I heard Ron Weasley was attacked," he answered, trying to keep himself under control.
"It is indeed true," his father answered solemnly.
"I'm glad," he spat vehemently, crossing his arms in front of his body defensively.
"It would not do to let anyone else see you so pleased about his being attacked, son," Severus answered carefully, stroking his hair lightly with the back of his fingers.
"I'm not stupid, sir. I mean, dad," he corrected himself with a blush, ducking his head as he did.
"I told you, Harry. You needn't call me 'dad' if you do not wish to," Severus told him gently.
"But I want to call you dad. I've never been able to say that to anyone before now," he interrupted, reaching out and grasping the man's hand tightly.
Severus gave him a small pleased smile and then continued.
"As to the matter of your intelligence, I only have one thing to say: Of course you are not stupid. I merely wished to reemphasize the importance of not letting yourself slip up in such a high pressure time. In addition, I should hope that you are still moving around the castle in a group with your year mates," he also advised. "Whoever attacked the Weasley boy could easily still be out there. I would be most displeased to learn that you have been traveling alone, son."
"Okay dad," Harry softly with another blush.
. . .
Rita Skeeter apparated home the next evening with only one idea in mind, getting in bed and staying there until someone made her get up again. She knew something was going on, there had been a great deal of activity at the Ministry that day, but no one seemed willing to say anything about it—well, at least not anything that she could print without being arrested for it. For whatever reason, aurors tended to get a touch snippy when they were misquoted.
"Their loss," she laughed to herself as she made her way through her house tiredly.
She stopped by the kitchen and got herself a glass of wine, and then slowly weaved her way into her sitting room, turning lights on as she went. She knew that a house elf could have gladly done all that for her and more, but the damn little blighters made her crazy, and she'd just as soon live on her own than have to deal with them.
Besides, being a naturally paranoid woman, she preferred to keep her secrets to herself, and whoever thought house elves were loyal clearly had never seen one tortured with dark magic. That had been one story she had just been thankful to escape with her life, to hell with writing it down.
"Drinking again Rita?" The unexpected voice nearly made her drop her wine glass.
"How did you get in?" She demanded in a scathing voice.
The figure in the dark corner moved forwards, and she narrowed her eyes as she took in his unpleasant expression.
"You really ought to have your floo looked at, dear Rita," he sneered, dropping into her favorite armchair with a graceful ease that most women would have killed for the chance to master.
"Get out of my house, Snape," she warned with a hiss, putting her wine down in exchange for her wand.
The dark haired sallow faced man looked casually back up at her, hands spread in a gesture of would-be openness.
"Why should I leave, Rita? I've been waiting for you," he smiled and the image caused chills to go down her back. His dark yellowed teeth gleamed cruelly in the half-lit room, making her wonder exactly what sorts of snacks he normally dined on to cause such an unpleasant visual effect.
"You are trespassing, Snape. I should wonder if your headmaster knows where you are right now. I'm sure he would be most displeased to learn that his pet Death Eater has been wandering off during school hours," she tutted, throwing herself almost violently onto the settee opposite him.
It chilled her further when he did not rise to her baiting, his smile widening instead, as he took in her discomfort.
"I should wonder about the same thing dear Rita," Snape said coolly. "I recently heard an interesting rumour regarding your supposed animagus status," his smile twisted into a cruel sneer.
"Why Severus, I didn't know you cared," she glared. "As it happens, I am registered with the Ministry."
"Yes yes, so you're registered now," he waved his hand dismissively. "I do believe that Albus would still be interested to know that you were on Hogwarts grounds after he banned your presence back last spring."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she quickly retorted.
"Of course not, dear Rita," Snape answered. "However, if you want me to keep everyone else from knowing, I suggest you stop your posturing and listen to me," he warned.
She glared at him for a moment, and then abruptly changed gears.
"Surely you are not here to deliver me a story, dear Severus?" She gave him a small smirk. "Who are you playing lapdog for today?"
She took delight in the small twitch her words caused in his jaw, hardly noticeable to anyone other than someone with an eye trained for such revealing details.
"I serve no one, Rita," Snape said, his face glacially smooth once more, the small tell in his jaw having completely vanished.
"No, I suppose that you don't," she admitted grudgingly after more uncomfortable silence.
"Are you quite finished wasting our time?" He didn't wait for her answer. "I have information that I believe you will appreciate."
"Really," she answered demurely, raising an eyebrow and pulling out a regular quill. She knew that Snape would just as likely blast her Quick Quotes Quill to pieces, should she try to employ it in their conversation. That was fine. There was more than one way to skin a shrivelfig, after all.
"Does it have something to do with the higher than usual level of activity at the Ministry today?"
"Really, Rita," Snape cocked his head. "And here I was, thinking the only mindless talkers were Hufflepuffs."
"Oh Severus, with your experience, I would have thought you'd know that eventually, everyone talks," she shot back, not willing to respond to his jibe to her house affiliation.
"And you would know that, wouldn't you," his smile was crueler than before.
"You and everyone else who was there is under oath—."
"There are ways around oaths," he stated softly, leaning forwards in his chair. "And should you want to continue this idiotic trip down memory lane, I'm sure I could find a way around that one, if only for the joy of shutting you up." Snape's face lacked anything resembling joy, but that was not the reason she took him at his word.
"Decided to cooperate?"
For now, she thought but didn't say out loud.
Clearly he decided to take her silence as an acceptable answer, for he replied with a deeply voiced, "Good. Now you shall listen to me, and listen well, because I certainly do not feel like repeating myself."
. . .
"Four Gryffindors," Minerva spat back at Albus Dumbledore after he had finished telling her about Ron Weasley. "Four Gryffindors attacked and raped," she hissed at him, sounding very catlike in her angry defense of her students.
"Well, technically three, my dear," he answered weakly, trying to at least keep his Transfigurations professor from leveling the entire room with her anger. "Harry—."
With a shriek, she stood up and grabbed him by the front of his robes. At the same time, every book in her quarters flew across the room, several smacking Dumbledore, but completely missing her irate form.
Clearly I should have left Harry out of the conversation, he thought ruefully.
"Should that make me feel better Albus? Does it make you feel better? Is that how you sleep at night, knowing that at least Harry was not harmed here on this campus?"
"It does not, Minerva. Surely you of all people would know that—," he tried, being interrupted once more.
"Surely I know that, Albus? For years you force Harry to live with those despicable muggles, and surely I know that you care for him? Two of the students attacked were muggle borns, Albus. Does that make this situation somehow better? At least they were not all purebloods? Does that make it better? DOES IT ALBUS?" She shouted, the strength of her angry magic throwing him hard into the stone wall behind him.
"Calm yourself, my dear!" He ordered in a shout, but it was to no avail. She was far too gone to respond to anyone's words—particularly his. "I am not the one to whom you should be directing all of your fury!"
"No? I should just direct it all to the unknown assailant? The unknown perpetrator of these hideous crimes? The one that you have done nothing to find?" She answered, still hissing, her hand wrapped in the front of his robes.
"That is untrue!"
"Is it? What have you done to make this insanity end? Hm, Albus? What have you done?" She growled, finally releasing his robes and going back to pacing the room.
"I have helped procure a way to keep Harry safe, Minerva!" He shouted back in exasperation.
"This better not be another one of your harebrained schemes, Albus. I have had just about enough of them! And that does nothing to address the issues of my other lions!"
"Trust me, my dear, it is not. If we could sit?" He tried to smile gracefully at her.
"Fine. We can sit," Minerva growled, taking a seat, her glare not diminishing one iota. "Now talk," she demanded.
. . .
"Do you understand the situation now, Rita?" Snape asked her. "If you feel like writing anymore lies about my son," his eyes glinting dangerously, "you will be hearing directly from me. Do I make myself clear?"
At least there is a linear connection between his earlier behavior and what he just told me, she observed. Clearly the boy means a great deal to him.
That was potentially very intriguing. Warning or not, she endeavored to dig a bit deeper into that puzzle.
"Clear as ice," she confirmed, playing her expected part.
In a flash, Snape was on his feet, and before she knew it, his wand was pressed painfully against her throat.
"Do not lie to me," he hissed malevolently. "I can see the deception in your eyes. As you are far too fond of bringing up, do not forget whose company I have kept, Rita. I could kill you here and no one would ever find out what happened to you. Do you understand?" He growled.
She could practically feel the dark magic flowing off of him as he spoke, and couldn't help but be somewhat mesmerized by it.
"Fine. Understood," she answered in clipped tones. "I won't write a single naughty word about your precious boy," she smiled evilly. "But that's not the only reason you're here, is it?"
She felt a final jab against her throat from his wand, and then watched carefully as it disappeared without a trace back inside the folds of his black teaching robes.
"Very perceptive," he sneered, making it obvious that he thought she was anything but. "I do happen to know something about what everyone is striving so hard to keep secret from you and the rest of the public," he leaned back and folded his hands over his knee.
She sensed a deal. So she asked the necessary question, "What do you want from me?"
"Just your continued silence," he said grimly. "There is something happening, and yes, the Ministry is involved, at least somewhat."
"I'm interested," she replied in a calm voice, even though her innards were fluttering madly.
"It's dark. It's sordid, Rita. You and all of your nasty little readers will likely get off on it," his non-verbal behaviors confirmed for her that he was telling the truth.
It was safe to say that her interest was more than piqued.
"And?"
"I can tell you one juicy hint Rita, but," he leaned forwards, eyes deathly in their continued gaze upon her face. "Should you ever spread anymore tales of this previous term's magnitude about me or my son, I swear by Merlin's grave that I will find a way to implicate you in all of it too."
"Agreed," she answered more calmly. She always had an easier time relaxing after her negotiators laid all of their cards on the table.
"Go back to your original source, Rita. Young Mr. Weasley is at the center of everything."
This time, it was her eyes that gleamed as she pondered the implications of his statement. With that in mind, she barely noticed when he took his leave of her.
. . .
Severus Snape felt positively slimy after negotiating his deal with Rita Skeeter. True, Ronald Weasley did seem to be at the heart of the current mess going on within the walls of Hogwarts, if the words of his son and the youngest Creevey boy were anything at all to go by, but that did not mean that he felt no remorse about the entire ghastly affair.
He wanted the truth to come out about what the boy and his brother had been up to over the past year or more—he very much suspected the latter—but it was also far too likely that the rest of the family would be dragged down as well.
His thoughts returned to Miss Granger and the Creevey brothers. True, whatever trouble the Weasleys were bound to find themselves in was likely to be unpleasant at the very least, but could it really compare to how much Granger and Creevey had suffered in the past term?
Did one really balance out the other?
How many lives would be ruined before justice was served?
On the other hand, what really was going on at the Weasley household that had allowed for the creations of Ron and Percy? Perhaps it was all worthwhile, if only to shine light on the darkness that seemed to be growing within that family. Who knew how many others had been poisoned by the evil that had been allowed to continue go unchecked for so long?
"Daddy?" Harry's hesitant voice interrupted his dark brooding and he looked up sharply at the sound.
"I'm s-sorry, I'll come back," his son's face had paled dramatically at his unhappy countenance.
"Harry," he called out softly, forcefully making himself relax.
"Sir?"
"Come back here," he instructed, patting the spot beside him lightly.
"Are you okay?" His son asked in a small voice.
"I am better now," he responded gently, touching his son's wild mane of hair lightly with his fingertips.
Harry blushed at his words and he put an arm around the small teen, pulling him into rest next to his side comfortably.
"Have you brushed your teeth?"
"Yes sir, I mean dad," his son answered shyly, burying his face in his shoulder embarrassedly.
"And you will remember to do your evening meditations?" Severus had begun teaching him the basics of Occlumency, adding onto the natural skills his son seemed to have inadvertently developed over the previous summer.
"Yes dad," Harry replied obediently.
"Homework done?"
Harry nodded energetically, even as he leaned more languidly into Severus.
"Dad?"
"Yes son?" Severus enjoyed saying that word more than he would have ever thought possible.
"Draco wants me to play Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team."
Good lad.
"What do you want to do?" He asked carefully.
"I-I want to. I miss it."
"But?"
"My old team, I mean, won't they be angry?"
"They were already angry, if I remember correctly," Severus pointed out calmly.
"Won't it just be worse?"
Severus gave a silent sigh and then physically moved his son around to look him in the face.
"Perhaps it will," he started. "But now you will have the support of all of the Slytherins there. You will have your friends too."
"And you? Will you come watch too?" Bright green eyes stared up at him, reminding him strongly of another such pair.
"Of course I will. Clearly I will likely have to tell everyone else that I am there to support my Slytherins, but they will all know that I'm truly there to watch my wonderful son doing what he loves best."
"Dad," Harry blushed and pressed his face against Severus's chest again. "Just don't say that in front of anyone else, 'kay?" His voice was muffled, but he could still hear the pleased sound in his son's voice regardless.
"As you wish," Severus answered with his just-for-Harry grin.
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Breaking Forwards