8

Interrogation aka. A Tad Bit of Explaining…

The room around Harry was hazy. Rubbing his eyes, he knew the charm he had placed on his eyes had been lifted, and without a wand there was no renewing the charm. Until then, Harry would have to make do with his lack of eyesight. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat up wavering. His head throbbed from sleeping far too long. When the room stopped moving, Harry stood on his trembling legs. His hands spread to his side to bring him balance. By now, he was certain that no one else was in the room.

Gradually, he walked to the closed door. Opening it, he used the hallway's wall to guide him to the stairs. His uncertain feet slowly descended the steps, toward what he believed to be the end. His head began to spin. With one missed step, Harry found himself tumbling down the remaining steps. The air was forced out of his lungs when he finally came to a stop on the main floor.

"That was quite a tumble." Harry recognized the voice as belonging to Dumbledore. "Here let me help you up."

Using his hands to rise himself into a sitting position, Harry pushed himself away from the blurred form of Dumbledore. A look of pure hatred filled his young face, as he spurned the older man's offer of help.

"I take it you wish to rise yourself?"

Backing into the wall, Harry used its support to pull himself up. His breathing was coming irregularly, but with great effort he brought it back to its normal rhythm.

"If you would follow me into the kitchen." Dumbledore waved what Harry assumed to be his arm.

Harry sneered. He refused to follow this man anywhere.

"There is no leaving this house, Harry. I have placed charms that will prevent you from doing so." The Headmaster paused. "The kitchen is quite nice you know."

Sighing, Harry followed his father's enemy into the kitchen. He could make out the forms of at least five other people in the room.

"Have a seat, Harry."

Harry hesitated before beginning to feel his way to a seat. He winced when he ran into the chair before. Haltingly, Harry pulled back that chair and sat in it awkwardly. His eyes scanned the people, who sat at the table. He frowned when he was unable to distinguish their faces, because of his blurred vision.

"Are you alright, Harry?" The Headmaster's voice cut through the quiet setting of the kitchen.

Harry answered with a terse nod.

"Running into a chair could be surmised as not being well." Harry recognized the voice of the werewolf.

Harry fought the urge to reply, but just stared blankly away from the others. His attention returned to them, when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

"I think these might help." He heard Dumbledore's voice.

He felt eyeglasses being pressed against his right cheek. Harry took them, only to throw them across the room with disdain.

The Headmaster continued unperturbed. "Perhaps, if someone else would offer you glasses you would accept them?"

Harry ignored his offer. He heard a chair being pushed back and footsteps coming toward him. Through the lenses that were being drawn to his face, he saw the face of a red-haired woman. Her emerald eyes were filled with hope, as she scanned his face. The glasses came to rest on his face, and he continued to watch her. His eyes widened immensely when her arms embraced him. Never before in his life had he felt so unsure of himself, so he remained rigidly still.

Lily Potter released him slowly before being prompted back to her seat. Harry continued to follow her with his eyes, uncertain of what to think of her. His eyes then scanned over the rest in the room. Mad-Eye Moody sat at the end of the table, his sharp eyes never leaving Harry. On Moody's right side sat the two elder Potters and Sirius Black. Across from them sat the werewolf, Remus Lupin.

"I am sure you are hungry." Dumbledore said from his new seat across from Harry.

Food suddenly appeared on the table. Harry felt his mouth began to water at the tempting aroma. He forced down his hunger, when Dumbledore offered him a bowl that appeared to contain some form of soup. This time Harry shook his head, and then continued to glower at Dumbledore. The Headmaster placed the bowl down in front of Harry.

"It is there when you want some." Dumbledore said benevolently, as he looked over the top on his spectacles.

Harry returned the Headmaster's gaze.

"Enough of this!" Mad-Eye rose from his seat, as he strode toward Harry. "What is the Dark Lord planning?"

Harry remained emotionless. His eyes now bore into the head Auror.

Moody's scared face frowned, as his magical eye examined the dark haired youth.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Harry whispered.

"You little-."

"Alastor!" Dumbledore warned. "We agreed."

Moody's frown became even more pronounced, but he returned to his seat.

Harry's stomach growled loudly. His eyes landed on the food before him. In defeat, Harry took the bowl and began to spoon the content into his mouth.

"When is the last time you ate?" The Potter woman asked.

Harry eyed her, feeling the uncertainty he had underwent when she had hugged him. Was there any harm in answering her?

"I've been busy."

"Any bodies we should be aware of?" Moody asked.

"Important matters called me away, or yes there would have been one."

"Who?"

"I doubt that the target is still on my father's priority list."

"I hate to inform you, but Voldemort is not your father." Moody stated loudly.

Harry smiled. "Not by blood perhaps, but by something greater."

Many eyes around the table rose.

"You are aware of whom you are, yet you carry out such atrocities!" Moody rose from his chair again. "Albus, he belongs is Azkaban."

"Alastor, Voldemort has not been truthful with Harry."

"He was truthful enough." Harry stated. "He described you well, Dumbledore. You truly are the master of manipulation." Harry rose. "I think I will return to my 'room'."

As he left, Harry heard them rise to follow, but Dumbledore called them back. Sighing, Harry was glad to be alone, as he flung himself down on the bed.