Outside of the kitchen, Kingsley Shacklebolt seethed with anger.

He had joined the Order of the Phoenix this year, upon Dumbledore’s request. Up until then, he had been an Auror coming out of the worst war the wizarding world had ever seen. Kingsley had become an Auror in this first place not because he liked fighting Dark wizards – that was his job, not his life. No, he did it because he liked knowing that his actions were protecting the law that held his country together, and would make the world a better place in the long run. That people would be safe.

But this… in his gut, it was crossing a line.

He had kept himself under control during the meeting, but there was a limit even to his patience. Despite Harry Potter’s vaunted status that Dumbledore continually touted, this time a line was being crossed. That boy’s actions caused the deaths of four Hit Wizards, and Dumbledore expects to get him off with a slap on the wrist? Not if I have anything to say about it…

He saw Snape standing against the wall, glaring daggers at Lupin and Sirius, who were talking in low voices. And it looks like I’m not the only one who’s angry, Kingsley thought with a raised eyebrow.

Sirius finally looked over at the Potions professor. “Got a reason to stay, Snape?”

“I’m waiting for Dumbledore,” Snape replied shortly, his eyes narrowing. “This cannot wait.”

Sirius gritted his teeth. “I’m sure it can’t, Snape, but Harry’s more important than your little report, so why don’t you just darken someone else’s hallway?”

“Is there a problem, Snape?” Kingsley asked coolly. “Is Voldemort on the move?”

“The Dark Lord’s plans are always in motion, and I’m sure that Potter’s little escapade,” Snape sneered, “will allow him more room to maneuver – more room than any of us would have liked.”

“Harry did what he had to do,” Sirius said, a hard edge in his voice. “He was scared, he wasn’t thinking –”

“He doesn’t do a lot of that,” Snape spat.

“Snivellus, you make one more crack about my godson, and I swear –”

“Sirius, Snape has something of a point here,” Kingsley interrupted. “People are dead because of his actions, reckless and negligent as they were. The fact he shows little to no remorse is even more worrying, especially if Dumbledore wants to continue labeling him as our ‘greatest hope’.”

“Kingsley, he regrets what he did,” Lupin said quietly. “Couldn’t you see –”

“I know what I saw and heard,” Kingsley replied curtly. He knew Lupin was partially right, but he had seen a lot of anger in the boy, and he didn’t know where to place that. “But from everything Dumbledore’s said, it wasn’t what I expected of him. And like it or not, you can’t argue the fact that people are dead, and Potter will need to own up to that. He shouldn’t get off just because he’s the Boy-Who-Lived.”

Snape smirked with cool triumph, while Lupin and Sirius just looked shocked at Kingsley’s statement.

“I’m sure Dumbledore knows –”

“From what I saw in there, I’m sure Dumbledore’s going to do his best to make sure Potter gets off scot-free, with hardly a slap on the wrist besides the one he gives Potter – not that Dumbledore can do much right now, given his stature in the Ministry,” Kingsley growled, his patience stretching. “Remus, even you can’t justify murder.”

“So you want him tried in the open court?” Sirius asked, incredulity and anger welling up in his voice. “They’d rip him apart – they’d send him to Azkaban!”

“I’m talking with Scrimgeour in the morning after I have a few words with Potter,” Kingsley said sharply, “and he’s going to a hearing of some sort, no question about that. I have a responsibility to my Department – I got him here, and it’s my responsibility that at least some justice is served. I’m going to try and keep this in the Auror Department and out of mainstream Magical Law Enforcement. A trial with one of their prosecutors with ties to the wrong people would be nasty – and very public, and that’s bad for all of us, not just Potter. If I can make it like a military tribunal in a typical Auror trial, Potter stands a better chance of getting out of this without a stint in Azkaban.”

“So you don’t want Harry to go to Azkaban, or you do?” Sirius snarled. “Whose side are you on, Kingsley?”

“I want a court to decide this, but I also don’t want to see a fifteen year old boy go to Azkaban, particularly one who might be our only chance to defeat Voldemort,” Kingsley snapped back, his patience nearly gone. “And I’ve got a better chance of making that happen than if Dumbledore stepped in – you know Fudge’s opinion of him right now.”

“How much influence do you have with Scrimgeour?” Lupin asked slowly.

Kingsley snorted. “Not enough to persuade the man to let Harry off, if that’s what you’re asking for.”

Lupin bit his lip. “Look, Kingsley, we’re both on the same side here, and Harry does need to take responsibility for his actions, but dragging him into the Ministry makes him a target –”

“He was a target from the beginning,” Snape spat caustically. “Not that he cares – oh no, he keeps wandering straight into dangerous territory like his conceited father –”

Sirius took a step forward, fury burning on his face. Lupin grabbed his shoulder warningly, but Sirius didn’t care. “I told you, Snivellus, if you dare make another crack about my godson –”

“You can’t deny, Sirius, that Harry’s been in more trouble than he should,” Lupin said in a low voice. “And he’s just like James in that regard –”

“It doesn’t mean he deserves Azkaban!” Sirius snarled. “I’ve been in there, Remus! I know what it’s like – and Harry’s supposed to be the one that saves us! He did what he had to do –”

The door cracked open. A narrow stream of light briefly lit the tiny hallway before Harry stepped out of the room, a haggard and weary look on his face. Kingsley was a bit startled by the new haunted look in Harry’s eyes – along with something else, something more emotion-driven… something angrier. Wonder what Dumbledore told him, Kingsley thought to himself. Maybe he showed the boy the real consequences of all of this…

Dumbledore was right behind Harry. “We just finished up. It’s been a long night, and I have a meeting with the Minister early tomorrow morning.” He sighed tiredly, and Kingsley was astonished to see how exhausted Dumbledore appeared up close.

Snape stepped forward, and Harry’s eyes snapped up, fixing on Snape with an expression of complete and utter hatred. He opened his mouth to speak, but Snape smoothly ignored him. “Headmaster, I have a quick report I must give before you leave. May we…”

“Of course, Severus,” Dumbledore replied wearily, and the two ascended up the stairs, talking in low voices. Harry, looking around slowly, still glaring with fury at the sallow-faced man, began to ascend the stairs towards the remaining three men.

“Potter, I want a word,” Kingsley said in a low voice.

Harry ignored him, continuing towards the stairwell that led to the upper stories.

“Harry, Kingsley wants to talk to you,” Lupin said quietly.

“Not now… I don’t care…”

Kingsley’s patience snapped. He doesn’t care what I have to say, even after what I’m trying to do for him? The ungrateful little… Grabbing Harry’s bloodstained shirt, he forced him roughly against the wall, a rare flash of anger on his normally calm face.

“What do you think –”

“Potter, be quiet,” Kingsley said in a low growl, ignoring Sirius’ furious bellow as Lupin held him back. “Look at me and listen carefully. Look at me, Potter!”

Harry’s gaze, which had been wandering, finally snapped to the Auror’s face, and Kingsley saw the haunted look vanish behind a mask of indifference and cold anger. It’s almost like looking at Snape, but with more actual rage and less sarcasm…

“What do you want to say?” Harry whispered. “Sorry, but I’ve had a trying night, and I need some sleep.”

“I’ll make this brief, then,” Kingsley snarled in a low voice. “Despite whatever Dumbledore said, you’re going to a hearing as soon as I can set the arrangements. You’re lucky I’m a reasonable man and I know what it’s like to do things you’d rather not do in the heat of the moment, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting out of this scot-free, Potter. There will be some justice for those deaths, for which you have some responsibility, and the only reason you’re here with the Order instead of with Magical Law Enforcement is because I was there. Otherwise, you’d be getting far worse treatment – hell, you’d probably be in an Azkaban holding cell tonight.”

Harry glared at him, breathing through clenched teeth. “I appreciate your help, but –”

“Don’t lie to me, Potter, because you’d treat people who help you with more respect if you truly appreciated them,” Kingsley said in a low voice. “You know, I don’t even typically get this angry – that’s more Alastor than me – but I have limits, and one of those is when I see people try and evade justice and ignore the consequences – it leads to one hell of a dark path, and considering you’re someone we’re supposed to teach and protect, I don’t like where this is going. Well, it’s not going to happen this time – not on my watch. You’ll get a hearing – a fair one, like any other accused criminal – and we’ll see what happens. Really depends on what the tribunal says – you might end up in Azkaban after all.”

The flicker of fear crossed through Harry’s eyes, and Kingsley saw it like he had seen it in the meeting room minutes ago. Seems that he’s scared at the possibility that others might indeed convict him for what he’s done, he thought with scorn, liking the boy in front of him less and less. Well, despite the fact that he might believe what he did was right, he’s going to find out the rest of the world might not hold the same opinion. Even I can only justify it for so long…

The Auror let go of Harry’s shirt and turned away. “I’ll be around, Potter,” he said icily, turning on his heel and heading towards the door. He ignored Sirius’ shout and curse, his mind already on the next day, and the unpleasant conversation he was going to have with his department head.

-----

“That smug, that arrogant…” Sirius growled.

“Sirius, enough, he’s on our side,” Lupin said sharply.

“Well, so is Snape, right?” Harry spat, the anger he had been holding back surging to the surface as he turned towards the stairs. “Birds of a feather, those two –”

“Harry, it might not seem like it, but you’ll have to face the public sometime, and despite it all, Kingsley is trying to help you,” Lupin said, a desperate edge in his consoling tone that Harry noticed instantly. “He doesn’t want to see you go to Azkaban, and he’s trying to arrange your trial in the Auror military courts instead of the public Wizengamot – you’ve got a better chance before their tribunal than before that court, especially considering where their loyalties lie. But you have to think about the position he’s in. He’s sworn to uphold justice, and after what happened tonight –”

“I’ve already explained what I did, Lupin,” Harry muttered as dull exhaustion began crept into his tone. After the night he’d been through, and after what Dumbledore had shown him – no, don’t think about that now, you’ll lose control again – he just wanted to sleep, to make everything shut off. “Those fliers chose to go after me. They chose to follow me past the plane… it’s not my fault…”

“You were running from the law, Harry, and you must have known they were no professional Quidditch players,” Lupin said quietly. “That why you tried that stunt – you knew you could throw them off with it.”

“A good flier or a good Auror could have survived that!” Harry snapped, upset that Lupin was bringing this up - again. “It’s not my fault they can’t handle themselves –”

“Harry, those weren’t Aurors,” Sirius interrupted, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “Those were low-to-mid level officers from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, a big difference from Aurors. When they went to arrest you at the Burrow, they had Hit Wizards with them – their best fighters, but still not elite Aurors. It’s like comparing, oh, I don’t know, trained gladiators with knights.”

“But why didn’t they send Aurors?’ Harry asked, real confusion replacing tiredness in his voice. “Isn’t this sort of thing their job?”

“Magical Law Enforcement deals with crime like this,” Sirius replied, turning away quietly. “Aurors deal with fighting the Dark Arts, and you weren’t using those.” He gave a bitter laugh. “It’s almost funny, they brought in both to bring me in…”

“But why didn’t they send Hit Wizards from the start?”

“They didn’t think you were going to be a huge threat, I’m guessing,” Lupin replied tiredly. “I mean, an underage wizard, against two qualified members of the department? They probably sent in two low-level people because they thought it was an easy job. And let’s be completely frank here, Harry – without that lucky stunt with the mirror, you would have never have gotten out of there.”

“But why didn’t they send Hit Wizards when I was flying?”

“Good question,” Sirius replied, frowning. “I’m guessing the reason’s likely bureaucratic – or they still didn’t think you were enough of a threat. Kemester’s brother, though, would have been a Hit Wizard – and once again, and not to take anything away from your flying skill, Harry, but you were incredibly lucky.”

Harry snorted with disgust. “Of course that’s it. Well right now I feel like the unluckiest bastard in the world, especially after what Dumbledore told me… and because if those damned Dementors hadn’t shown up, none of this would have happened!”

“It’ll be the key to your case,” a new voice said wearily. Harry looked up with surprise as Mr. Weasley came into view, rubbing the lenses of his glasses with a thin cloth. “You’ll need to prove that you were justified in attempting to escape, and that means proving your intent, and the only way to do that is to prove that there really were Dementors there. But that’ll be for another day. You need to get some sleep – you’ll have a rough couple of days until the hearing’s called.”

“Where’s my room?” Harry asked, gratitude in his voice, though he doubted Mr. Weasley could hear it.

“First flight of stairs – Ron and Hermione are likely waiting for you. Try and get some sleep, though. I know you’ll want to talk, but…”

“Believe me,” Harry muttered to himself, pulling away from Sirius and Lupin and heading towards the stairs, “talking’s the last thing I want to do.”

The entire evening seemed a blur to him. The Dementors, the mirror exploding, the terrifyingly close flight to the plane, the ‘arrest’ at the Burrow, the memory Dumbledore had shown him… Well, I was the one who was asking for something to do, after being stuck at the Dursleys’ for a month, Harry thought bitterly. Guess I got my wish – definitely proves that I should be more careful for what I wish for…

He opened the door silently to hear Hermione’s shrill voice. “He’s got a case, I mean, there’s definitely provisions in the Statute of Secrecy, if that’s what they’re worried about –”

“Believe it or not,” Harry said slowly, closing the door behind him and leaning against it, “I honestly don’t think that the Ministry will be bothering much with the Statute charges when they can press manslaughter.”

Hermione turned quickly, her eyes going wide at the sight of Harry. He knew he didn’t present a particularly attractive silhouette, with his slumped shoulders and bloodstained shirt, so he wasn’t surprised to see her gasp and Ron’s face go pale, his freckles standing out more in the dim light.

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione said in a slightly muffled voice as she leapt off her bed and threw her arms around him. “Fred and George have already been up, they told us what happened –”

“Not gonna lie, mate, but you look terrible,” Ron said heavily, running his hand through his hair. “Though after what you’ve been though, I… well, I can’t say I’m entirely surprised.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Harry muttered darkly. “You were talking about my case?”

Hermione swallowed nervously as she let go of Harry – it was clear the bloodstain across his back, mixing with his sweat, had made her feel uncomfortable. “Harry, it’s a big deal, and I mean really big. Have you thought about what you’re going to say to the Wizengamot?”

Harry snorted as he sat onto the bed. “I’ve had other things on my mind.”

“Other things besides a trial? Your trial?” Ron asked incredulously.

“A chat with Dumbledore tends to drive a lot of other things out of your head,” Harry growled.

“He was furious when he heard that Mundungus had left early so that the Dementors could attack,” Hermione said in a slightly awed voice. “It was scary, how angry he was.”

“Well, he has every right to be angry,” Harry spat, yanking his trunk out of his pocket and expanding it with a wave of his wand. “If he hadn’t had run out on me, I would never be facing murder charges. It is interesting, though,” he added, his eyes narrowing as he looked up at his friends, “that nobody bothered to tell me that I was being followed or watched, or that nobody has bothered to tell me anything. Your letters were useless, you can’t argue with that!”

Hermione swallowed hard. “Harry, you have to understand, Dumbledore made us swear not to tell you anything. Security reasons, in case the owls were intercepted.”

“Dumbledore controls a lot of information,” Harry said savagely, his hands clenched into tight fists. “Probably the root of most of these damned problems…”

“Harry, you’re not making a lot of sense…”

Harry’s eyes snapped up, meeting Ron’s shocked gaze. “What, Ron? I finally know something that you don’t, and you act all shocked? Dumbledore finally thought that I could handle it, considering that I’ve got blood on my hands to match the back of my shirt –”

“Harry –”

“Those were the words he used, Ron,” Harry growled. “He’s probably been waiting for something like this, the old bastard –”

“You shouldn’t call him that!” Hermione said heatedly. “After all he’s done for you?”

Harry could hardly believe his ears. In a second, his exhaustion was gone, replaced with raw fury. “After all he’s done for me?” he snarled, getting to his feet and glaring furiously at Hermione. “All right then, Hermione, let me ask you this: do you think telling a student that he is the only one who can kill Voldemort is a service? He showed me a memory in one of those Pensieve things of him receiving a prophecy from Trelawney, one that told him that I had to be the one to kill the greatest Dark wizard in England. And that’s not it, either,” Harry continued, a dangerous light in his eyes. “I saw Snape in the memory too.”

“Snape? What would he be –”

“He’s the one that made sure Voldemort found out the prophecy,” Harry spat, visible hatred on his face now. “The sallow-faced ass told Voldemort as much of the prophecy as he could overhear before the bartender threw him out on his greasy Death Eater ass! And he let that devil teach us at Hogwarts, and he still trusts him!”

Hermione’s hands were over her mouth now, while Ron looked like he was going to be sick. Neither of them spoke.

“So where does that leave me?” Harry growled, breathing heavily as he sat back down on the bed. “I have to face trial – no way out of that, thanks to that bloody Auror Shacklebolt - and now I also know I’ve got to kill Voldemort. Merlin only knows how that’s going to happen, with the Ministry at my throat.”

“Harry, you must have known that you were going to be the one killing You-Know-Who in the end,” Ron reasoned, still slightly pale at the sight of his friend’s anger. “I mean, how many times have you faced him now –”

“That’s not the point, Ron!” Harry said furiously, getting up again. “Dumbledore wouldn’t have told me this if I hadn’t been responsible for deaths tonight, and it’s really something I wish I would have known a long time ago – then I would have just thrown the Killing Curse at him while I had a chance and rid myself of this! And to top it all off, Dumbledore says it’s ‘too risky’ for him to try and teach me any magic that might help me actually fight Voldemort!” Harry snorted with disgust. “Says it’s because ‘the Ministry might consider me a security threat’ – what a load of shit, they already do!”

“And you’re not the only one they consider a threat, Harry,” Hermione said, finally getting her voice back. “It’s Dumbledore too – they threw him off the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards, and the way things are going, he could be thrown into Azkaban – especially if he’s defending you in court or trying to help you – the Ministry could label it as obstruction of justice.”

“Hermione, they can’t accuse Dumbledore just for defending Harry, he’s entitled to legal aid in court!” Ron argued. “I mean, it’d be a setback, sure –”

“Why on earth was Dumbledore thrown out?” Harry asked through gritted teeth, his curiosity overruling his immediate frustrated fury.

“He gave a few speeches saying You-Know-Who’s back,” Ron said darkly, “and since Fudge doesn’t buy it, he prefers to think Dumbledore is lying or senile and throw him out. Fudge is terrified of Dumbledore, and he’d rather delude himself into believing Dumbledore’s lying than really come to grips with the fact that You-Know-Who is actually back. Dad reckons that Fudge thinks Dumbledore’s going to try and take over the Ministry.”

“Well, at least we’d have better leadership,” Harry spat, again consigning Fudge to the deepest hell he could think of. “Dumbledore’s at least intelligent, even if he’s a –”

“Harry!”

“You can’t say it’s not true, Hermione! I don’t care if he’s our Headmaster or a powerful wizard, he hasn’t been honest with me!”

“Harry, he’s… he wants You-Know-Who gone as much as anyone, and he really does have your best interests at heart. I’m sure that’s why he didn’t tell you about this prophecy until now –”

“Until I can handle it,” Harry snapped. “Yeah, he gave me that line too, and I’m not entirely sure I buy it, but he’s not saying anything else. Makes me wonder what exactly he was waiting for, really, when this all fitted into his little master plan. Hell, I don’t even think he’s got a plan right now – this came out of the blue for him as much as anyone.”

“Nobody could have expected this,” Ron pointed out. “I mean… bloody hell, this surprised everyone, including the Ministry. They weren’t expecting for four people to die and two to end up in St. Mungo’s…”

Harry’s face darkened. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly planning for this to happen either. The most plausible thing was that I was supposed to be the one to kill Voldemort – hell, everyone expected that. Not that Dumbledore’s bothered to tell me how…”

“You-Know-Who can wait until after this court case –”

“No, Hermione, you don’t get it. Once Voldemort knows I’m coming after him – and he will figure it out – he’s going to start killing things that matter to me to draw me into the open – and that means either he or the Ministry can snatch me up. It’s either Azkaban or death, and I’m not a huge fan of either.” Harry opened a fist and stared into his palm. “Merlin, I don’t even know what I’m going to do…”

“But how is You-Know-Who going to figure that out?” Ron asked, confusion in his voice.

Harry gave a grim chuckle. “I bet he already knows.”

-----

Dumbledore looked at a livid Snape with irritation. “Come now, Severus, you knew this day would come. You knew that he’d have to know the truth sooner or later –”

“He’s unstable, he’s reckless, and you just told him that I betrayed his parents,” Snape snarled, slamming his fist onto Dumbledore’s heavy desk. “Damn it, Dumbledore, are you trying to paint a target on me? I’m going to have to teach Potter for the next three years –”

“And Harry is also rational enough not to attack you in front of students,” Dumbledore replied sternly.

“You think that’s going to stop him?” Snape asked incredulously. “Have you lost your mind, Dumbledore? I knew his father, and I know Black! I know exactly what he could be capable of – damn it, Black was capable of murder at fifteen! Have you forgotten that so quickly?”

“You’re assuming that they will collaborate –”

“They’re both on the run from the law and they’re family who believe that ‘they did what they had to do’,” Snape spat. “They’re loose cannons who want me dead - of course they will collaborate, Dumbledore, do you honestly think they won’t?”

“That’s enough, Severus,” Dumbledore said, steel in his voice. “I trust you… and I also trust both of them. I can understand that your paranoia considering your proximity to Voldemort –”

Snape gave a hard, mirthless laugh. “You think I’m paranoid, Dumbledore, for fearing the Dark Lord’s power, for fearing that I might be discovered as the double agent I am? Of course I’m afraid – any rational man would be, considering the way the Dark Lord operates. But this is different – I don’t fear Black or Potter yet, but I know very well how dangerous they could be, both to me and to your side of this war. And both of them have blood on their hands. Hell, hearing Black boast about killing Death Eaters in the first war sounded so similar to Potter’s ranting this evening!” Snape sneered with disgust, his lank hair falling across his face as he shook his head. “No, Dumbledore, I won’t be a party to that ‘justification’.”

“And yet it is so similar to your own,” Dumbledore replied coolly, his eyes blazing with fire.

“Don’t you dare push that on me, Dumbledore,” Snape growled, his own glare matching Dumbledore’s. “You know whose orders I’m following.” He turned away and yanked open the door to Dumbledore’s study. “And don’t expect me to come to any more meetings at Headquarters. I have enough occupational hazards in my job description already without Potter and Black being added to that list.”

And with that, he slammed the door, leaving Dumbledore alone with his frustrated thoughts.