Turn Me Loose: A Harry Potter Adventure
Tried to Tie Me Down

By JBern

Previous I was Born to Run I was Born to Dream The Craziest Boy You've Ever Seen I Gotta Do It My Way Or No Way at All And I'm Here to Please I'm Even On My Knees Making Love to Whoever I Please I Gotta Do It My Way (reprise) Or No Way at All (reprise) And Then You Came Around Tried to Tie Me Down I Was Such a Clown You Had to Have It Your Way, I'm Saying No Way So Why Don't You Turn Me Loose? Turn Me Loose Next

Chapter 12 — Tried to Tie Me Down

You skip a stone onto the Great Lake and watch the expanding rings before the rock finally drops into water.   You’re troubled.   It’s nothing new really.   The relatively carefree life you once lived continues to slip away.   Back in the jungles of Brazil, there was always something to blow up or destroy.

That won’t work here at the oh-so prim and proper Hogwarts.   Besides, there’s only one thing here worth destroying and his name is Albus Dumbledore.   One of the first things you did this morning, after sending the tearful, but exhausted Hermione Granger back to her Head Girl suite was check the map.

Naturally, he wasn’t there.   The portrait in your room politely said that Dumbledore would be in London for the day.   The man has a definite pattern, antagonize you and then run away for awhile and let you stew it over.  

Your sensitive hearing picks up on the footsteps crunching in the freshly fallen snow.   The boots are attached to the body of Luna Lovegood.   She has an irritated look on her face.   This doesn’t surprise you.   You check the map and make certain it is her.

"So you’re out here brooding, since I didn’t respond to your summons?"   Mentally, you can add an accusatory tone to the irritating look.

"You’ll excuse me if I don’t have the foggiest idea what you’re talking about."

"The woman protecting Granger told me at breakfast that you wanted to see me."

Letting out a sad chuckle, you say, "I think Tonks was just trying to get some revenge on me.   Amazing, that we’re in the middle of a war and people can still be so effing petty!"

Luna tries to stare through you and get to the truth.   There was probably a time when you were an open book, but things have changed and she gets nothing for her efforts.   "Why would that be revenge?"

"Fawkes injured me.   The healer gave Hermione some ‘healing’ balm.   The use of it left us in a rather compromising position.   My guess is Tonks wanted you to find us like that because she’s still all shirty about how I treat her and her pet werewolf."

"You and Granger?"   It’s not surprising that’s all she got out of it.

"It sure as hell wasn’t by choice!"

"Why would Dumbledore do that?"

"It goes back to the summer and when he was trying to make certain she was my girlfriend.   There’s an oath preventing me from telling you the specifics, but there was a reason she kept coming into my suite to spend time with me.   The Headmaster decided to up the ante, and now I’m trying to figure out what to do about it."

"Why are you telling me this?"   Her eyes are searching around and you can see the hurt on her face.   Any second now, she’ll retreat like a turtle into her shell and start babbling about Snorkacks and the like, wrapping herself in the "Looney" personality.

You could tell her about the incomplete Horcrux in your head and the fact that you’ll probably have to die shortly after killing Riddle.   That’s probably a little too much grief to drop on her.

Her arms cross and the expression on her face changes, "Well obviously, Harry…"

Yeah, just like clockwork.   You cut her off, "Stop!   Quit it!   Don’t bother with trying to be ‘Looney’.   I’m telling you this because life’s too short, Luna.   The goblins are revolting, the Death Eaters are running loose, Dumbledore’s scheming, and I’m too damn tired to lie to you and tell you things are going to be okay.   They’re not!   It’s going to get worse before it gets better — if it gets better."  

Her mouth hangs there open for a few seconds before she closes it.   You continue on, "Look, I’ve still got some pull as a diplomat, even if I just learned that half of the peacekeepers have been sent back home to deal with the goblins in Brazil.   If you want out, I can probably make it happen.   Brazil is nice … pretty much any time of the year.   Maybe I need to start thinking about getting people out of here."

"Is it really that bad, Harry?"   Your morbid summary penetrates her veil of teenage angst.

"From my perspective it is.   Sorry, I’m venting and you’re the only one around to hear it.   Bill and Hack won’t be back for a few days.   Kwan will be a bit longer.   I’m usually a bit more chipper with them around."

"I don’t know what to say," she admits.

"I think I do.   My last little trip wasn’t as long as this summer, but I’ve changed almost as much.   I’m sorry things didn’t work out between us.   For my part, I tried to hide from the war when I was with you and it made you feel left out of everything else.   You don’t deserve to be treated like a distraction and dismissed every time I had to talk about something ‘important.’   I should have done better by you."

Whoever "they" are, they say confession is good for the soul.   Yours might be a bit tainted by a horcrux and some daemon blood, but it couldn’t hurt.   Sitting out here and recapping what went wrong with Luna and generally feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to solve anything.   There is one person in the castle you can trust.   He doesn’t really have a choice, and you’re interested to see if his hand was involved in last night’s debauchery.   Dumbledore isn’t around to face your wrath, but his puppet isn’t so lucky.

You stand, "Thanks for listening to me, Luna.   Remember my offer — if you think you and your father need to get out of here, I’ll do what I can.   Now, I’ve got to go be the bastard you think I am and stir up some trouble."

If this were some kind of movie, she’d stop you, throw her arms around you, and tell you that all is forgiven.   Unfortunately, this is the real world and even the most well-adjusted teenaged female, which Luna certainly isn’t, would have a hard time with everything you just dumped on her.   You glance over your shoulder.   She’s staring back at you with tears in her eyes.

Ten years in a cupboard can build up some serious emotional armor.   Every now and again, something gets through it and hurts you.   Swallowing hard, you turn back toward the castle.

The snowflakes are getting wetter as the temperature rises.   It reminds you of some sad song by this Fogelberg bloke Petunia used to play a lot when you were a kid.

Funny, that seems so long ago.

------

"Potter?"   He’s surprised to see you.   You were cordial enough to knock on his office door.

You toss him the empty tin of salve from last night’s insanity with Hermione and say, "Your handiwork?"

He plucks it out of the air and sniffs the container.   "No.   If this is what I think it is, Professor Slughorn makes them as party favors for some of his more ‘adult’ themed parties.   Please tell me you didn’t have your troll apply this."

You cringe at the thought and shake your head.   "No, it was Hermione."

He shrugs and says, "Hardly any difference."

His barb doesn’t draw a rise out of you.   You might not be referring to her as "Granger" anymore, but running to her defense is counterproductive.   "Do you know if he’s doing anything else to her, fertility potions?"

Again, Snape shakes his head.   "He only uses me for the draughts to replenish his energy and fight his cursed hand, but he would hardly need my services or Horace’s for such a simple concoction.   The Weasley broodmare is obviously well-versed in such brews.   Or, he could simply send away for one.   The nurse might know, but she is easily duped."

There was a time when his casual indifference and outright disrespect for most any other human being would anger you.   Now, he’s becoming a model for professional detachment.   There’s a shiver up your spine that you are starting to admire qualities in this failed human being in front of you.

"So, is there something else I can do for you, Potter?   The girl didn’t have any infections, did she?"

"Dumbledore is trying to goad me.   He’s expecting a reaction from me.   I was hoping you might know why."

Snape smiles and says, "I have my suspicions, but nothing concrete."

"Would you care to share those suspicions?"

"Not particularly."

"Bastard."

"I consider that a compliment, Potter.   However, if you would like to speak with Professor Slughorn, I am supposed to meet him for tea shortly.   He always seems interested when your name comes up."

"You’re just looking for a way to get out of tea with him, aren’t you?"

Snape smiles, which is frightening in its own right, and stands.   "Do you wish to speak to him or not, Potter?"

You follow him out of his office and head down toward the dungeons, wondering if Snape misses being the Slytherin Head of House.    He probably loved the power but hated the responsibilities.  

The sight of the two of you stalking the hallway must be an odd thing to behold.   With it being a Sunday, only a few people are around to see it.   He knocks on Slughorn’s door and waits.   After a moment of waiting, he spells open the door.

Slughorn lies on the floor.   His lips are blue and there’s dried foam around them.   One hand is clutching his throat and the other is stretched out.   It’s a good bet that you’re not going to get anything useful out of him.   This is why you carry a pair of bezoars with you.   In what seems like a lifetime ago, you helped Dumbledore recruit this man to come back here.

Snape steps over the body, and eyes the bottle and glasses on the table.   There’s a second body slumped onto the ground next to the Professor’s desk — Cormac McLaggen, a seventh year Gryffindor and one of the blokes who was really involved in the "Slug Club."

On the positive side, no one has to have tea with Professor Slughorn … ever again.

"There’s a note attached to the bottle.   It was meant for Dumbledore."

Someone wants him dead.   Actually, someone other than you wants him dead.   Snape looks angry — too angry for just a couple of dead bodies.   You watch him vanish the note in disgust.

"You know who did this, don’t you?"

"Potter," he warns, "leave this alone."

"Sorry, even if I wanted to, the old man’s oath says I need to protect the students in the castle.   It’s that little shit Malfoy, isn’t it?"

He appears torn.   "Potter, you will not speak of this.   Leave.   I will summon the other professors and we will deal with the matter."

"Maybe, I’ll just go interrogate ickle Draco…"

His wand flashes and yours is out as quickly.   You can see his hand shaking and remember how vehement he was about being the one to deal with Draco.   "What’s wrong, Snape?   That little debt you owe me conflicting with what you want to do?   Why go out of your way to protect him?"

He doesn’t have to answer; the truth hits you like a ton of bricks.   Snape’s face contorts in pain.   "You’ve sworn an oath to protect him, and it’s conflicting with the debt you owe me!   Ain’t fate a little scheming bitch!   I could probably just sit here and watch it tear you apart, but I won’t."

Snape doubles over and releases his breath.   "Leave Draco to me."

You pause and think about how this has changed things.   The idea of Draco killing Dumbledore could actually fit into your plans.

"Professor, I think we might be onto something here."

------

"Wakey, wakey, Draco."   You splash some water into the boy’s face.   He’s bound and tied to a chair.  

"Puh … Potter!" he sputters.

As tempting as it is to make fun of his speech impediment, you move on.   "I told you it wouldn’t be too hard to trick him, Ron."

"Ron" is really Snape hiding under a glamour.   Unlike you, Snape is quite skilled at them.   It makes you wonder how he got so good at impersonating students.   That’s a disturbing thought best left alone.

"You’ll pay for this."

"Actually, I could probably charge for this.   Two galleons to come in here and smack the little ponce around a bit.   I bet even half of Slytherin would pay up along with the other houses."

"What do you want?"

"Answers to some questions."

"What makes you think I’ll tell you?"

"Ever had Veritaserum?"

His eyes fly open and he protests, "You’re bluffing!   You have to be a Ministry official to administer it!"

Leaning forward, you smile and say, "I’m a member of the Brazilian Ministry, Draco.   I’ve got my own little stash.   I didn’t even need to break into Professor Snape’s stockroom.   It’s what happens when you have some real power and aren’t just getting by on your family’s name."

"I don’t know anything!"

"As much as I’d like to believe that, we both know it just isn’t true.   Ron, do you want to do the honors, three drops to the tongue?"

You present the vial to "Ron" with a flourish.   Draco continues his protests, "Weasley can’t follow directions worth a spit.   He’ll likely poison me!"

"Well there’s irony for you.   Actually Ron’s marks in Potions are remarkable this year.   I think Snape was holding him back."   You can’t resist making that dig.   Ron’s potion skills are mostly due to him using a book marked up by a previous owner.

It takes both of you to get his mouth open and Snape administers the truth serum.

"Alright, down to business.   Are you under orders to kill Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes."   He answers and immediately looks panicked.

"S’okay, Malfoy.   We already knew that.   I just needed some confirmation.   Were you behind the cursed necklace and the poisoned bottle of alcohol?"

He strains to fight it, but eventually says, "Yes."

"So, you used a cursed object on Katie Bell and are responsible for the deaths of a student and a professor."

"I haven’t heard about any student or professor."

"Slughorn and Cormac McLaggen are dead.   Poisoned by a bottle that was meant for Dumbledore.   Now a quick owl sent to Scrimgeour and you’d be sitting in Azkaban before the day was out, but Ron and I want to know the whole plan.   We might be able to work out a deal where you don’t get kissed by a dementor.   First though, did you help Pansy Parkinson attack Hermione Granger and steal an item left in her care?"

He pales slightly, but looks defiant.   "Yes.   I didn’t know you were dabbling in Dark Magic, Potter.   Rest assured if anything happens to me, I’ll make certain to tarnish your ‘golden boy’ image."   Well, give him points for being truthful.

You pause and wonder what would Kwan Chang-Ho do in a situation like this.   Grabbing his nose between your index and middle fingers, you twist hard until he yelps in pain.   Letting go, you bring the flat of your booted foot up into his chest and push Draco and the chair he’s bound to back onto the ground.  He hits hard, but shakes the cobwebs out of his head and spits at you.

"Well, if I’m losing my golden boy image, I might as well just go ahead and kill you, Draco.   You’re a Death Eater’s sprog and I’ve got Diplomatic Immunity on my side.   Since you’re still telling the truth here, Draco, is whatever you’re doing in the Room of Requirement linked to killing Dumbledore?"

He fights really hard on this one.   The potion is beginning to wear off, or maybe it’s the weight of your knee on his chest, but he nods gasping for breath.

"Good.   Now we’re getting somewhere.   How about you tell us the plan?"

"Never!"   He’s fighting it really hard now.   It’s probably some Death Eater thing and makes you curious what they do for fun at his house.

"Don’t worry.   We’ll obliviate you later.   You won’t even know you told us what you’re going to do."

Your partner in crime leans down next to him as you repeat your demand for him to tell you the plan.   It’s really just so Snape can get in his mind, and whatever Draco is doing will be right there waiting for him.

After all, who would ever suspect Ron Weasley of being a master legilimens?   You’re at the point of telling Draco that you’d like to try your hand at a little amateur dentistry when Snape stands up and stuns Malfoy.

"He’s trying to fix a vanishing cabinet.   The same one Montague was lost in.   The other vanishing cabinet was in Borgin and Burkes, but it has been moved to a more secure location.   He intends to fix it and use it to bypass the wards and lead a group of Death Eaters into the castle to kill Dumbledore."

You evaluate the plan.   "It’s more than I would have given him credit for.   Where do you think the other cabinet is?"

"Either the Malfoy estate, or Gringotts."

"We could take the fight right to Voldemort and the goblins at the same time.   Let’s wake him up and find out how close he is to fixing the cabinet.   When Bill gets back, we can trap the hell out of that corridor and take out whoever comes through."

Your reluctant ally nods.   "That should reduce his strength, but will you have enough wands to counterstrike?"

"I should be able to get a few of the remaining peacekeepers.   Everyone else I can bring will be mercenaries.   We might be able to deal Scrimgeour in for a squad or two of Aurors.   What about the Order?"

"They will follow the Headmaster’s lead and I doubt he would sanction this idea or allow us to use the castle to launch an attack."

 It comes back to the old man again.   Bill will probably be able to talk Charlie into joining us, but the rest of the Order won’t budge unless Dumbledore says so, especially with Moody gone.   "We’re going to have to get rid of him.   My oath to protect the castle shouldn’t stop me.   The question is, do we let Draco kill him or not."

"Even in your newly enlightened state Potter, you remain an idiot.   He doesn’t have to be killed to be removed from the field of play."   Dumbledore would be proud.   Two of his "projects" are setting aside their differences and working toward a common goal.

"What are you thinking, Professor Snape?"   You even made a point of addressing him formally.

"I gave you the answer the very first day we met, boy."

------

"Harry, William please sit," Dumbledore does his best to sound accommodating as we enter the spacious room.   The tiny chick that is Fawkes hisses at you, but you’ve come to expect that treatment from the phoenix.  It is far less intimidating in its current form.

Bill is less-than-pleased with the latest developments.   Maybe since he’s unleashed his inner animagus he’s more in touch with his baser instincts.   Still, he’s almost as angry as you are given the situation.

You toss the first verbal fireball and say, "You’ll forgive me for declining any meeting with you unless Bill is here.   I think its best that our encounters from now on are done with witnesses present."

"I completely understand, Harry," Dumbledore says.   "Things have been trying over the past few days with the tragic passing of a teacher and a student.   Forgive me for not summoning you sooner."

"You assured Minister Scrimgeour that it was more to do with Professor Slughorn’s social status than anything directed at the school.   Because of your blasted oath, I’m compelled to investigate and that cover story doesn’t impress me."   You already know the truth, but that’s beside the point.

Dumbledore shrugs and says, "I can only tell you what I know.   We will have to wait for the final Auror’s report, but I suspect this is random."

It’s a lie, but you’ve come to expect it from the man.   Bill smacks both his knees in disgust and says, "You could act like you care about the people in this castle!   Do you honestly believe you can excuse what you did to Harry and that girl?"

Your Cursebreaker buddy is a tad peeved.   He’s raging because you can’t afford to be off your game.  

"William, I do resent that comment.   Sometimes the greater good requires sacrifices.   Harry requires freedom to fulfill his destiny, and I have facilitated that.   I could just as easily assign blame for Alastor’s death to you, but I will simply say that you have never been in my position and cannot possibly understand."

You shake your head at him.   "Bill, it’s alright.   We could sit here all day, every day, for a decade and he won’t change."

Dumbledore steeples his fingers and replies, "I am quite capable of change, but I am committed to the greater good, and sometimes distasteful acts are necessary as you yourself have already seen.   So, let us move on to something we can change.   I was thinking about the message from the remaining dementors of Azkaban.   How do you suppose we should respond to them?"

You shake your head and say, "They’re obviously waiting for the greater daemons to come back.   I doubt we could fool them for long."

Bill agrees, "The ones that stayed are content guarding Azkaban.   I don’t really see how we could use them in the conflict; at some point they’d betray us."

"True, but perhaps we could actively turn them against the dementors who have joined the Death Eaters under the guise of proving their worth to their overlords.   I strongly suspect that a dementor is perfectly capable of killing another dementor, and we have yet to locate sufficient numbers of animagi to duplicate Harry’s rather inventive use of a Patronus and his form to slay the creatures."

"I can handle them if they show up."

"Yes, but you may be otherwise engaged at the time, Harry.   It is something worth considering."

You hate admitting that Dumbledore has a point.   Bill’s niffler form wouldn’t have those soul suckers quivering in their cloaks and even if Fleur manages to succeed in making a transformation by way of that Mayan armband, her form would probably be avian, and also not terribly threatening.

"Alright, let’s keep it in mind," Bill says.   "How is the Order dealing with the loss of Moody?"

"It’s a definite blow to morale.   The Minister is planning a funeral for him.   You presence will likely be requested."

Judging by how fast he changed the subject, it is likely more than just a "blow to their morale."   Albus is long past caring what his foot soldiers think.   Hell, you’re beginning to wonder how he faked it through Diggory’s memorial.   The effing bastard was probably glad he had a body and could prevent the Ministry from ignoring this situation.

Snape enters with a frothy goblet in his hands.   It brings back memories from third year with Lupin.   "Albus, I have your draught.   With your recent absence, I’ve strengthened the dosage."

"Yes, yes," he says dismissively.   "I’ll get to it in a moment."

You cast an amused look at Snape being treated like a house elf and stifle a laugh.   The man now pulling double duty as Defense and Potions professor is less amused, and responds with a scathing glare that might have worked against the Harry Potter of yesteryear.

"You’ll forgive me Headmaster, but I must monitor your reaction to the increased potency, and I must return to the classroom."

"We can come back another time," you offer.

"No, this will take but a moment."   Dumbledore plucks the goblet and begins to drink with a sense of urgency.   He’s got it halfway down when he stops and gets a panicked look on his face.

"Severus …No!" he croaks.   The look reminds you of the old toad and scorpion fable.   It is in Snape’s nature.   You’d do well to remember that.

He makes a feeble attempt to draw his wand, but Snape grasps the man’s wrist and holds it steady.   Fawkes is too young to do anything but continue to hiss.   Bill’s quick wand movements banish a handful of specially prepared powder that freezes the portraits in their frames.   They’d be dealt with during the cleanup.   The Sorting Hat leans forward from its perch and looks on in interest.   You wonder how many coups it has seen during the thousand years of its existence.

Leaning forward, you smile at the man rapidly losing his battle against the Draught of Living Death and say, "It’s just like you said, ‘sometimes the greater good requires sacrifices’.   Don’t worry.   We’ll try to remember to wake you for the final battle."

Previous I was Born to Run I was Born to Dream The Craziest Boy You've Ever Seen I Gotta Do It My Way Or No Way at All And I'm Here to Please I'm Even On My Knees Making Love to Whoever I Please I Gotta Do It My Way (reprise) Or No Way at All (reprise) And Then You Came Around Tried to Tie Me Down I Was Such a Clown You Had to Have It Your Way, I'm Saying No Way So Why Don't You Turn Me Loose? Turn Me Loose Next