THIRTEEN HOURS LATER
"VISION IN YOUR RIGHT EYE has been permanently lost," informed a healer, tightening gauze around the aforementioned eye. "Unfortunately, medical attention was delayed too long, and even then, I'm not confident that healing your eye to full vision would have been possible."
"Yes, yes. I understand." She pulled her hands towards her chest, only for them to be restricted halfway. There was a soft jingle of metal. "Totally delayed myself getting medical attention on purpose. Has nothing to do with the fact I've been handcuffed to this table for the last four hours."
The healer shifted on his feet uncomfortably, but when the man opposite Celestia gave a flick of his wrist, the healer was quick to flee the room. With a sigh, she focused back on the man on the other side of the table.
It was a miracle that the Ministry had managed to band itself together again in such short time. In all honesty, she hadn't thought far enough into the future to consider what was going to happen after the final battle at Hogwarts. Her, Theo, Draco, and Regulus had been the only Death Eaters who hadn't fled as soon as Voldemort had died. The Ministry was always vying for a win, so it was no surprise that it had led to the four of them being separated into interrogation rooms.
After losing consciousness, she'd been informed that Mary and Madam Pomfrey had done their best to try and heal her. In the end, though, they had been unable to save her vision. She woke up a few hours later, and those from the Ministry had arrived and demanded she and many others be taken into custody.
Mary, Pansy, and Blaise had all been taking in for questioning due to their affiliation with their group. It had enraged her at first, but through a crack in the door a few hours ago, she'd heard that they'd been let go. Harry, she knew, was also somewhere in the Ministry, undoubtedly giving them an account of the events that occurred.
All she wanted to do was go home and sleep. She was no longer in excruciating pain, but it seemed the fight wasn't over quite yet. Verbally, at least. At the rate this interrogation was going, she wasn't sure if going home was even in the cards for her anymore.
Orson Thornton glared at Celestia, but she pretended to pay him no mind. It had been much like this for the past four hours. She didn't really understand what the point of the interrogation was, seeing as there had been many witnesses to everyone she had killed during the battle, and Harry as a witness to her murder of Dumbledore. Still, it's not like she were going to outright admit it, anyway. She was pretty sure they had delayed her medical treatment as some sort of threatening tactic.
"It is a mystery how your cavalier attitude has brought you this far. But it won't take you any further," he began to threaten. "Whether you confess or not, you're going to be thrown into Azkaban just like your father was."
Are they threatening you with Azkaban as well? she asked Theo.
Mhm, came his answer. How you holding up, darling?
Gave me some pain medicine. Vision in my right eye is completely gone, apparently, which sucks, but I don't exactly have the time to dwell on that right now. She fiddled with the chains of her handcuffs which had been strung through a bar on the table. I miss you.
I miss you more, he promised.
Before she could answer him, Orson slammed a fist down onto the table. "Are you even listening to me, Black? You'll never see the light of day again! The Dementors will leach every lick of happiness you may attempt to find in there! Now, answer me, did—"
"Comparing me to my father in this instance is odd, considering he was wrongfully imprisoned," she mused. "Also, hadn't the Dementors abandoned their post at Azkaban to work for Voldemort?"
A few of the papers that had been littered on his side of the table, which she hadn't bothered to read knowing that it was what they had wanted her to do, fluttered to the ground when Orson shot up. He pointed a finger at her, but no words were given the chance to escape his mouth. A voice resounded through the room, clearly a superior of Orson's.
"Thornton, take five. We've got some new information."
Angry, but clearly not disobedient, Orson gathered up the documents and left the room. Finally alone again, she let out a sigh and relaxed her shoulders. She knew she must still be getting watched, but at least she were getting a short reprieve from them talking her ear off.
While the Ministry had managed to reform itself within a day, it clearly seemed their best employees were busy with other things. Unless Orson were acting this way on purpose, and were hoping that he'd annoy her into a confession. Given a few more hours, if Theo hadn't been trapped inside her head, it might've worked.
Sorry, she apologised. They started yelling at me again. This is so annoying.
How much longer do you think they'll go on for?
Merlin only knows. I hope Regulus and Draco are doing okay, she answered.
There was a full glass resting on the table within arms reach. It was a surprise it hadn't toppled over in Orson's earlier tirade. They'd offered it to her fairly earlier on in the interrogation, but she had politely declined. In the end, they'd left it within reach as an open offer. On a good day, Celestia barely trusted the Ministry. During the aftermath of Voldemort's death, of which she was complicit in and many other murders, she wasn't willing to test if they'd taken a chance. She doubted it, though, after the scandal of Sirius's false imprisonment. But she wouldn't risk it.
Theo's voice drew her back into her head. I'm sure Regulus is fine. He's been preparing for this possibility for the past eighteen years, he assured. And Draco had Lucius as a father; he won't be saying anything.
I know, but. . .
Anxiety was running rampant inside of her, and there wasn't much she could, confined to a room like this, to stop it.
She skimmed a thumb across the metal cuff around her wrist. They were a regular pair of handcuffs, at least appearance-wise. It was currently quelling her magic. She could take the loss of magic. She was just glad they weren't a set of shackles.
Her thumb began to rhythmically tap against the cuff encircling her left wrist. The cold metal drew her back down to the present with ease. A soft puff of breath escaped her lips. It were one of the only sounds in the room, accompanied by the occasional jangle of the handcuff chains keeping her restrained to the table
Exhaustion weighed down her limbs. She ended up crossing her arms over the table, using them as a poor excuse of a pillow. It wasn't like she was actually going to be able to sleep in a place like this, and she was sure Orson wouldn't even give her the chance, but it granted her a small reprieve. It was a display of vulnerability to anyone who may still be watching, but no longer did she want to put up an act. She just wanted to go home.
She prayed they would let her go home.
Where home was location-wise, she wasn't really sure anymore. She supposed it just needed to have her friends in it. Any building could become a home if they were there.
Relax, darling, soothed Theo, undoubtedly sensing her nerves. After she'd done her best to temporarily quench their connection during her short faked death, their bond had returned with double the force. She couldn't so much as blink wrong without him catching on. And that truly said something when they weren't even in the same room.
Theo, what if . . .
He completed her question with ease. They find us guilty?
We are guilty. That's the issue. If they send us to Azkaban, it wouldn't be an unjust punishment. Most of the crimes they're accusing us of, we've committed. There are crimes they don't even know about. I just . . . I know it's fair, know we deserve it, but I really would like to go home and sleep.
If he could've sighed, he would've then. There isn't much I can really say to that. You're not wrong. There's a major possibility that our luck has run out but . . . I have faith. I have you. It'll turn out okay.
His reassurances eased her fears, despite the fact that his answer was rife with uncertainties. It was just another gamble. Just another problem she had to worm her way out of. She had done it a million times before, what was one more? One more step, and then she could let her legs collapse beneath her. It was all so close now.
Before she could respond to him, the door to the interrogation room opened again. She told Theo she'd talk to him later, focusing on Orson as he stepped back into the room. Lazily, she lifted her head off the table.
Though the man had clearly calmed down from his earlier rage, she could tell he was still irritated. His shoulders were drawn tight, and the frown on his face seemed as if it would become a permanent fixture if it remained on his lips any longer.
Instead of sitting down opposite her again, he decided to remain standing. In his arms, he held a pile of mismatched papers.
"This is what we know," began Orson. He placed down a familiar copy of the Daily Prophet onto the table. Her WANTED poster stared back at her. "You killed Dumbledore and became a fugitive." Next, another Daily Prophet, but this one about the break-in of the Gringotts Vault written under Voldemort's rule. "You caused mass destruction at Gringotts and threatened Harry Potter." Before she could rebuke that story, he placed down a small stack of pristine papers. "You murdered Voldemort."
The headline atop the final papers he had placed down stated 'WITNESS STATEMENTS'. They must've gotten multiple accounts of Voldemort's final moments from students at some point in the past couple hours. It wasn't unexpected, but it still worked against her. She supposed it was her fault for inserting herself into the final fight with Voldemort and Harry.
"These, alone, are enough to send you to Azkaban to await trial. By the time the trial comes around, I believe more than enough evidence of your other crimes will be uncovered. There is no use in fighting me anymore. We have you red-handed—"
This time, he was interrupted by a knock at the door. So far, she had been watching him impassively, but her eyebrows rose at this interruption. For them to come right to the door, inside of call for Orson over the intercom again, showed a sense of urgency. It also showed how low he was on the Ministry ranking that his interrogation would be interrupted twice in such a quick succession.
Some of Orson's carefully crafted composure cracked as he marched towards the door. He opened the door, but did not step outside.
"What is it?" he demanded. "I am in the middle of an important interrogation here—"
The person said something so low to Orson that she couldn't hear. Whatever they said, though, made his hand tighten so hard on the door that his knuckles went pure white.
"What?"
"Sir, I said that Celestia Black has been cleared of all crimes and is to be released immediately," said the man.
Very rarely did she find herself surprised. To suddenly be cleared of all crimes out of the blue was one of the few moments it happened. Theo would've told her if he'd managed to pull something off like this, and she knew neither Regulus nor Draco held the sway to manage something like this either. She was dumbfounded, just as perplexed as Orson was.
"All crimes? That's not possible. We have enough evidence. What about Dumbledore, at the very least—?"
Again, Orson was cut off. This time by the same authoritative voice that had called him out of the room earlier.
"Drop it, Thornton. This order comes from the top. It's been stated that Severus Snape was the one to murder the headmaster, not Black. You've been given a new assignment in the. . ." The words faded away as the man made his way down the hall, Orson forced to follow after him so that he could argue against his change in assignment.
Silence suddenly encompassed the room, but she was still too floored to finally enjoy the reprieve. So unexpectedly, it seemed to all be over. And she hadn't even done anything. How had she been acquitted, and that quickly?
The man who had informed Orson of her crimes being absolved entered the room, making quick work to uncuff her from the table. On reflex, her hands moved to soothe the marks on her wrists.
"My apologies for your detainment, Miss Black. You are free to leave the Ministry, but please do be aware that we may reach out in the future to obtain statements regarding the many incidents that took place at Hogwarts today," he explained, ushering her towards the door.
As soon as they stepped out into the hallway, he whizzed away. Just as quickly as her saviour had come, he had disappeared again. Disconcerted to the point she was beginning to feel a bit lightheaded, she glanced around the hallway.
A few feet away, hiding within the shadows, Harry Potter was leaning against a wall. All of her questions were answered at the mere sight of him. He looked just as exhausted as her, as if he'd rather be anywhere else in the world. But he had still come here, to her.
She couldn't help but ask. "Why?"
He tilted his head back, and he looked aged beyond his years. She felt as if she must usually appear that way, but for once, with her arms still linked together by her limp hold on her wrists, she felt like a child. Like a bumbling, emotional, little foal whose legs were too long for her body.
Any direction she were to step in would send her toppling to the floor.
"Why not?" he answered simply. "There are many things I regret, things I cannot undo. I imagine you feel much the same. For everything that happened over the years, I can offer this in restitution. I would like to ask for one thing in return, though."
"What is it?" In that moment, she might've given him anything he asked for.
"Harm nobody else. Just . . . live a life with Theo worth living. Spend the time you have with Regulus that you should have had the opportunity to spend with Sirius. There is no reason for you to hold onto your blades any longer. It is a time of peace. Let yourself live in it."
Peace. So that was the feeling crawling over her body, making her head hazy, her breathing regular, and it almost terrified her. It made her skin feel like it did not fit right around her bones. She had never lived a life in peace, never thought she deserved to. But Harry was telling her that she could now, that she had every right to, that she had to.
"Okay," she agreed easily, her tone soft beneath the hum of the lights. "I owe you a great debt. Not just for saving me here, but back in the Room of Requirement, for saving mine and Theo's, and especially Draco's lives . . . There is very little I could offer in restitution for something like that."
He shook his head. "We're even now. Don't worry about it."
Words curled themselves around her tongue, but she could do nothing but stare at Harry. It didn't feel like enough.
"You don't need my permission, you know," said Harry, light coming back into his voice. "To leave. To live in peace. I imagine you would've learned to do it anyway." He shifted his body to turn to look at her. "But if you need me to say it, then go. Your boys are just around the corner. Go to them. Go live."
It felt like it took a century to turn away from him; it felt like it was over in less than a second.
She took one step forward, and then another.
She didn't look back.
AUTHORS NOTE
the final chapter :,)
epilogue will be released tomorrow.
be prepared to tune in for an extra long author's note.
see you then.
yours,
beth.