Harry Potter The Surprise

It was now time to reveal why they had brought this matter up. "There is a spell, cast in parseltongue, that proves my Godfather is no Death Eater. He actually invited me to cast it on him." Harry was of course lying through his teeth, though there was certainly a spell that accomplished what he claimed. Riddle had delved deep into his ability as a parslelmouth, practically creating a new branch of magic. Harry had no intention of telling anyone in this room about the knowledge he and Hermione shared.

Before any of them could even think to object, Harry drew his wand and, pointing at the ceiling, hissed a spell into the air. Macnair immediately dropped to his knees, clutching his forearm while clearly in agony. The commotion that kicked off only stopped when the flash of the camera reminded everyone there was a press presence here.

"Mr Potter, what are you implying here?" Amelia had her wand out but was unsure who to point it at, not a condition she was in anyway used to. She wanted answers, and was determined to get them. Amelia had no way of knowing Harry and Hermione intended for her to have those answers from the instant Macnair walked into the infirmary.

Poppy's wand was currently scanning Macnair, and the results were confusing her. "He's clearly in great pain but I can't discover what's causing it. It's definitely radiating from his forearm though." Since Macnair was clutching onto that forearm as if his life depended on it, that last bit didn't require a healer to figure out.

"This would be Riddle's method of controlling his slaves. Make no mistake, that's what they were to him. His Dark Mark on their arm bound their very souls to him - and any other parselmouth who knows the right spells." Turning to Macnair, Harry asked the Dark wizard a question. "What is your name?"

"Walden Macnair."

"Are you a Death Eater?"

"Yes."

Fudge was trying to stop these questions, his proclaiming of this being "Preposterous" were being ignored. No one else missed Amelia's wand was now trained on the kneeling Macnair.

Harry pushed on with his questions. "Have you seen this curse used on your fellow Death Eaters before?" Again their knowledge told them the answer before they asked the question. It was all about taking their audience with them. Macnair's 'yes' saw Harry explaining to that audience how the curse worked.

"So you know a truthful answer will result in a slight lessening of your pain, where a lie or deliberate omission will see that pain increase?" Receiving another affirmative answer saw Harry get ready to ask the real questions.

Minerva had stood quietly in the background, waiting to see how things developed, but now felt she had to say something. "Mr Potter, you are torturing this man. I won't have this inside Hogwarts' walls. Stop this at once."

Ignoring McGonagall, Harry asked the big question. "How many people have you killed or tortured as a Death Eater?"

Struggling with the question, Macnair finally gave an answer. "I have no idea of an exact total. Certainly more than fifty and probably less than a hundred."

Looking around the room, Harry's gaze locked with everyone in turn before he asked a question to the room. "Anyone else think this murdering bastard deserves any mercy?" As he'd expected, no one objected.

"Tell us of any names you know that were murdered or tortured by you - and the names of any Death Eaters who helped you?"

With a roar of defiance, Macnair's wand was in his hand and a green curse was leaving it. Amelia's stunner appeared to hit an invisible barrier and she found herself helpless to interfere.

Instead of hitting Harry, the green light appeared to be drawn into Harry's wand, leaving him unharmed while Macnair's agony clearly increased. Harry had to shout to make himself heard over the Death Eater's screams.

"Don't worry, and don't try to interfere. He's basically committing suicide here, and there's nothing any of us can do to prevent it now. Anyone casting an offensive spell at the person who has you under control like this will see that curse rebound on them. He knew this before he cast it."

What Harry didn't say, and would never mention, was that Macnair's magic was currently being siphoned off and supplementing his own. That Macnair had chosen this route was totally unexpected. Once Harry had cast the original spell though, there was then no way for anyone to disarm Macnair. As the last of his magic left Macnair, the curse he'd cast rebounded from Harry's wand and stopped the Death Eater's agony once and for all.

Macnair's body slumped to the floor in total silence, a silence that Harry eventually broke. "How did my godfather end up in Azkaban, without a trial, while this piece of shit kept his job in the Ministry of Magic."

"Mr Potter, you just ended this man's life. Aren't you even a little sorry?"

Harry didn't get time to answer McGonagall's jibe, Hermione exploded all over their Head of House. "Didn't you just hear this animal admit to murdering and torturing so many people he couldn't give an exact count. Even by his lowest estimate, he was responsible for wiping out more people than there are students in our current year group.

Had the job been done properly when Harry defeated Voldemort as a baby, today would never have happened. Your generation let the entire country down, so don't stand there implying my Harry is some heartless murderer. Didn't you listen, the murdering bastard deliberately took his own life - rather than name those who helped him with those murders."

Harry's arm went around her waist as Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, trying to control her anger. Using their rings to talk privately was now becoming almost second nature to them, and Harry was sure he knew what had sent his betrothed off on a rant.

'Hermione, we've seen the memories and know Macnair needed to die.'

'I know that, Harry, but the bastard fired a killing curse at you. What if that spell didn't work? I can't lose you.'

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