Living In My Head (Drarry)

Chapter 11: Here's the Truth (Part 1 of 2)

Chapter Song: あんなに一緒だったのに/Anna ni Issho Datta no ni (Piano Version) by See-Saw

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I thought I was going to vomit but I swallowed down the feeling. He waited, gauging my reaction.

"Go on." I said weakly and he nodded.

After what seemed like hours, he was still silent, trying to figure out what to say.

"My parents died in a car crash." I supplied, feeling a deep emptiness in my gut.

His eyes immediately flared up to me, "Who told you that?"

I sputtered, almost nervous by the look he gave me, "My aunt and uncle who took care of- uh.."

I paused, realizing the words didn't exactly fit.

"My mother's sister and brother-in-law, I lived with them up until now."

He sighed heavily before shaking his head, "That's not right Harry. They didn't just die, they were..."

He licks his lips, swallowing, "They were murdered."

I felt my heart jump into my throat, "No, that's not-!"

He covered my mouth, scolding me with his eyes at the volume of my voice.

"They did. I know for a fact. My mom was a cop on the case, my dad was the head detective."

Suddenly my eyes feel much too dry for my skull, like I'm getting a scratching in my head but I desperately ignore it.

"They were killed by the Capricorn Killer, or as he preferred to call himself, Lord Voldemort."

A slight sense of dull humor comes over me, "The Capricorn Killer, really? That's the best they could come up with? Even Lord Voldemort sounds better."

He rolls his eyes slightly, "There's a reason why they didn't call him 'The Lord Who Stole from Death'- which is what Lord Voldemort basically translates to, by the way- but that comes later, when you get involved so please wait patiently."

I skid my bottom teeth across my top lip, "Go."

He goes back to where he was, "The C.K. was big in the early 90's, he killed people that fit a certain profile.. I never really found out much more than he went to school here with all the victims. He was a scholarship student, but he was pretty popular, according to people who remembered him. There are four definite victims, no others have been positively identified since the case has long since been closed."

I start popping my fingers subconsciously, something I tend to do when I'm anxious.

"So, tell me. How did you know this? You said you and Hermione were involved, yet, other than your parent's connection to the case, I don't see how-"

He interrupts me, his hand out as if he wants to explain something but covers his mouth with it instead.

"Harry, my parents were two of the four confirmed victims, including your parents."

I want to say sorry but he talks over me, preempting my words.

"They got in too deep, he got angry, and I managed to get a hold of some of the files before they were burned in the fire. Hermione's parents worked at the morgue before they changed careers into dentistry. They were effectively scared out of staying anywhere near the case. Her parents were the ones that investigated our parent's bodies before yours were buried and mine were, well... anyway, there's a reason why there's a scar on your head, Harry."

Suddenly, my hand reaches up and traces the odd shape, "It's a lightning bolt, a birthmark, what does that have to do with-"

His voice gets raspy, angry, "It has everything to do with it, Harry! He carved that into your frigging head but never got to finish!"

I start imagining the blood trickling down my forehead and the hair raises on my arms.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to be-"

I look him directly in the eye, "Tell me everything. No matter how bad... like you said, I need to know."

I rub my arms, lazily trying to get the gooseflesh to subside but it won't seem to go away, so I drop eye contact again to look out the window.

He joins, looking at a different spot, "I don't know how much I should tell you considering how bad everything was."

"For God's sake, Neville, this is my parents we're talking about! I've been lied to my entire life and I have to know the truth if I ever truly want to be able to move on."

Recognition is in his eyes as he leans his temple on the glass, watching me.

"The C.K.'s real name was Tom Marvolo Riddle, he was the leader of a cult of sorts. They were all criminals, called themselves Death Eaters, but he was the only one to commit murder, as far as the police knew. The main ones, that I saw in the files were Peter Pettigrew, Bellatrix Lestrange, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black. Lupin, Black, and Pettigrew were all friends of your parents who were behind the conspiracy to murder your parents. Black is also your godfather, as twisted as that is."

The scratching was now painful, like a migraine but only in the back of the head. As if there was a steady clawing at the brain-matter that kept the body going. I heard a high-pitched whining that resembled "eco-friendly" overhead lights.

I heard whispers.

Names.

Ignore it, I told myself, looking back at Neville.

"Do you hear that?"

His somber train of thought seemed to slow, "Hear what?"

I look around, "That. Don't tell me you can't hear it."

He stares at me, seriously, "There's no sound but us and snoring from upstairs, Harry."

I nod, trying to reassure myself. "Sorry, what were you saying?"