Work Text:
“I'd like to make it clear — on the record, sir — that this wasn't my fault.”
“What exactly happened then, from your point of view? Be precise. For the record.”
“Right, sir. Well, it all started when I answered a call. It came in on Wednesday, at noon precisely. You know how it is, Mr. Higgles thought he saw a boggart again so I went along to do the usual. Quick check around the place followed by a pat on the back to reassure the guy, ya know? Only Ron was out this time; Hermione's got another one on the way and her appointment got rescheduled last minute, so Ron was out for that, and I realized too late that everyone else had already left for lunch. So when the call came, I went alone.”
“You went alone.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Potter, what's rule number one when working an active investigation?”
“Never go anywhere alone, sir.”
“And remind me what you did?”
“… I went alone. I know it was a mistake, sir.”
“Yes, we're getting to that. Hold your hippogriffs. What happened next?”
“Well, the call started off as usual. The whole raise the dead, spooky paraphernalia thing the guy’s got going on is nothing new. It's creepy, sure, but nothing especially out of the ordinary.”
“No skipping ahead, Potter. How'd you get there?”
“Well, that's a bit of an ordeal in itself, I suppose. Mr. Higgles isn't on the floo system, and his residence is on that list Moody started, of known and granted exceptions for ancestral wards that are not in compliance with modern Ministry standards, on the assumption of good behavior and continued access for Aurors when requested. So I couldn't apparate or create a portkey in because of the wards. Barring any faster methods, I was forced to fly into the vicinity by broomstick, as per usual with wards like this. Half a mile out from the coordinates, unusual foliage forced me to land, and from there—”
“Hold it, back up to bring forced to land.”
“Yes, sir. I was flying low to ground, as usual for this case—”
“Why?”
“Because I bloody can't find the house otherwise! I don't know! His wards are a crumbling fucking disaster and make no bloody sense at all. All I know is the moment my bare-ass toes stop dragging through the dirt and twigs I forget where I was trying to go and end up back at my desk.”
“Thank you. So you dismounted?”
“Yes. Half a mile from the house, the trees get too thick to dodge between, and the stupid vines — I swear they're some Devil's Ivy experiment or some shit, always trying to eat me, no matter what Neville Bloody Longbottom, Herbologist Extraordinaire has to say about it.”
“At which point you dismounted.”
“And made it the rest of the way on foot, that's correct.”
“And then what happened?”
“And then? Well my Wednesday got a whole hell of a lot worse, that's what.”
“For the record, Potter.”
“Right.”
“…We need specifics, Potter.”
“I know, I know. It's just… you know how it's called Hump Day?”
“Ah.”
“Well, it turns out Mr. Higgins was just waiting for one of us to show up alone to… er…”
“He needed a third party, I take it?”
“Yes. That. Turns out he's not just a hermit with an overactive imagination and an unusually large collection of human skulls. No, some of that necromancy shit actually does something.”
“So, what happened next?”
“Well, I think I got all the way to the house on foot, but this time I got attacked from behind somehow. I didn't get a clear idea on who or why before I passed out.”
“What happened then?”
“Well, then I woke up chained to some altar, covered in blood and well on my way to solidly stoned from whatever incense he was burning. I never read up on much of that ritual shit, but Mr. Higgins sure seemed to have all his bases covered. He was in an all black hooded robe, as opposed to the more… typically colorful robes he usually wears. Black candles were scattered everywhere I could see, not that my head could move much, and he had some sort of mood music going in the background. It was all minor chords and discordant twangs, though I couldn't see speakers or enchanted instruments anywhere. He was chanting in some sort of bastardized Latin…”
“And then?”
“Well, I swear Tom, I mean Volde— Er, the Dark Lord? Well I swear he showed up, only…”
“Let's take this one thing at a time. So the chanting finished…”
“And the next thing I knew he was just… there. I don't know how else to describe it. It must've been whatever was in the air because in all honesty, I haven't the faintest clue what else was going on after he showed up. I dunno where Mr. Higgins got to, dunno if any of the candles were still on, dunno if the haunted music kept going. It was just Tom Bloody Riddle in all his devilishly handsome glory, suddenly right on top of me. His skin was just so warm on mine… he was tugging at my hair, biting here and pinching there, like he was everywhere all at once….”
“At which point…”
“Yes, yes yes. I’ll admit it, alright? We had sex, and I'm not even sure I'm all that sorry about it.”
“Do you think it was part of the ritual?”
“How am I supposed to bloody know? Isn't that your specialty? I mean, he didn't try to kill me immediately, which alone would make this an unusual dark lord encounter. So maybe?”
“What happened next?”
“After we…?”
“Yes, after that.”
“I'll, be honest, we were really fucking high by that point.”
“I gathered.”
“Right. Well, I'm just saying.”
“It's been noted.”
“So after… After, I went home.”
“You just went home.”
“Yep.”
“And you are stating, for the record, that the Dark Lord Voldemort just let you go?”
“I mean, kinda?”
“Could you elaborate at all?”
“I mean, I think there was something about next time, or doing it again or something? I'm not sure though, it really wasn't clear. Nothing was clear by that point, I'm pretty sure I only made it home by habit. Muscle memory, you know?”
“So in summary: the Dark Lord has returned, to unknown purpose. And should the Ministry ask you to return him to his grave for a third and hopefully final time?”
“Er… I mean, could I get back to you on that? Not that I'm pro-Dark Lord or anything, I'd never. I'd just want to be sure there was a good reason, you know? And, well…”
“And your neutrality has been compromised. I see.”
“That's about the shape of things, yes.”
“Right. Is there anything else you'd like to add before I finish recording?”
“No? Oh! Actually, if it's not too much of a big deal, if you could let me know what you hear about him? It's only that things are a little muddled for me at the moment, and any information you have, I'd very much appreciate.”
“Yes, Potter, I'll ensure you are fully briefed on our most sensitive investigations, about an individual whom you have already declared that you cannot maintain your impartiality. What possible reason could I have to withhold information in that case?”
“Oh, would you? That would be such a relief, thank you so much.”
“Right. Well, on that note, the debrief by Unspeakable Yellow and Auror Potter on Case 12875-391 has concluded.”