"Never fear, Dobby," the headmaster replied. "We shall provide evidence to support your story perfectly." Harry distinctly disliked the twinkle in the old man's eyes. "The other elves will readily be able to believe that Gibby has become . . . ah, rather unbalanced."
A sly look slid into Dobby's large eyes. Or maybe it was a smirk. With elves it could be hard to tell. "With Gibby saying like that, that Draco Snape had been freeing him . . . Dobby is thinking it will be easy for the other house-elves to believe that Gibby is not thinking so straight. They is hearing many times about Dobby's sufferings in that house--"
"I thought you couldn't speak ill of wizards," Harry broke in.
Dobby looked sly again, but abashed as well, this time. "Not to wizards, Harry Potter sir."
Harry laughed then, just a little.
As soon as Dobby had Disapparated back to Hogwarts to begin spreading his tale, Harry turned to the headmaster. "You can't be thinking of doing what I think you're thinking of doing."
"Merlin's ear, that house-elf's grammar must be rubbing off on you," drawled Snape as he re-entered the room.
Harry ignored his father. "Sir," he said, still addressing the headmaster, "you can't use Lucius' . . . er, body, as evidence. Nobody is going to believe he's a statue, not when that thing looks just like someone under Petrificus. There's no way Lucius Malfoy would commission a statue of himself under a curse!"
"Well reasoned, Harry," said Severus, nodding. Harry was hardly appeased, especially considering what his father said next. "You've determined to display the statue then, Albus? Regrettable, but necessary considering the other elves surely overheard Gibby's wild claims. Unless you'd permit me to Obliviate them all? No? Well, then, I suppose the only thing to do is pose it."
Harry glanced at the ramrod straight figure on the floor and grimaced at the very thought. "What's the point? Petrificus will just snap him into a line again when I recast the spell, won't it?"
"The spell doesn't have that effect on dead flesh, no."
Harry had to swallow a couple of times. "You've done this before, you mean."
"I've seen it done," said Snape in a tight voice, his features paling slightly. Harry hadn't meant to sound critical, exactly. He just didn't like to be reminded of his father's ugly past.
In fact, it was all he could do not to shudder. He didn't need to hear details to guess just why Snape had seen a thing like this done. It must be a Death Eater trick, a way to pose bodies in order to mislead Magical Law Enforcement. And now Harry was supposed to help them do the same thing to someone else.
If anyone deserved to have his own evil come back at him, though, it was Lucius Malfoy. On the other hand . . .
"I don't know," said Harry slowly. He knew he was both stalling and stating the obvious even as he said it, but he felt it needed to be said. Probably a Gryffindor trait of mine, he mused. "I mean, we can't trust the Ministry back home to treat me fairly if they found out about an attack spell like this, but maybe we could tell the Ministry here in France? Isn't this their jurisdiction? Covering it all up just seems . . . I don't know."
Snape and Albus looked at each other, clearly discomfited by Harry's observation.
"Quite right, my boy," the headmaster replied, stroking his beard with one wrinkled hand. "But these are troubled times. What you did was self-defence and entirely permissible under our laws, but even if we were willing to trust the Ministry either here or back home to proceed rationally, releasing this information to those outside the Order could result in Voldemort learning of your enhanced powers." As Harry started to speak, Dumbledore held up a hand to forestall him. "And not only that, Harry. Were Lucius were known to be dead, we would once again lose our only spy among the Death Eaters."
Harry frowned. Dumbledore meant for Remus to continue spying after this? That was a reason to not pose the statue, as far as he was concerned. "Look people may not know that Lucius is dead, but they'll sure notice when he's never at home, right? How can Remus keep spying?"
Once again, both of the adult wizards looked at each other, their expressions grim. "We'll discuss specific plans with the Order," Dumbledore answered. "Clearly, our future course of action is contingent upon his willingness to oblige."
Harry frowned, suspecting that Albus Dumbledore could talk anybody on their side into anything.
"Regardless of what Lupin decides, Harry," said Snape quietly, "we must prepare for all contingencies and then be gone from here. I want you safe with your brother post haste. Will you do as I ask?"
Put like that, it was hard to simply say no. Taking a deep breath, Harry walked toward the marble corpse on the floor. But then he hesitated. "How can I do this? If Remus gets hurt or killed impersonating Malfoy then it'll be my fault. Just like with Sirió"
"Harry, we have discussed this matter before," said Severus, sighing. "You are not responsible for the actions of grown wizards with minds of their own." As a hand settled on Harry's shoulder, he turned to face his father. "You and Draco matter to me more than anything, Harry, but the hard truth of the matter is that winning the war is the best way to keep you both safe. Hence, we need the advantage of insider information. But it is to minimise the risk to Lupin that I ask you to allow us to pose Lucius' dead body. Any house-elf gossip must be quashed. And too, we require the key ingredient for Lupin's Polyjuice Potion. Will you do as I ask?" Snape said, repeating his earlier question.
Ha, Harry thought. Dumbledore isn't the only one who can talk anyone into anything.
"Perhaps we can take the statue to a secure location and Harry can make the necessary magical adjustments later," the headmaster suggested.
"No, I'll do it now," Harry answered, albeit with no enthusiasm. It wasn't like he could protect Remus, anyway. If Dumbledore wanted the man spying, then the Order would simply find a way to make it happen. Remus might be in even more danger if Harry didn't help them obtain plenty of hair for the Polyjuice.
Besides, his concern for Remus, true as it was, was just an excuse in the end. The real problem was cowardice. Deep down, Harry was starting to believe he'd killed Lucius. He really ought to face up to it, right?
Without giving himself time to dwell on the matter any further, Harry swiftly walked until he stood directly above the prone marble figure. The motion created a disorienting head rush. For one instant, Harry went almost blind. He staggered slightly, his balance all askew. He must be more tired than he'd thought.
"Harry?"
"I'm all right." A moment's pause helped him regain his equilibrium. His gaze settled on the sleeping viper on the floor. Mustering as much will and strength as his exhausted body could supply, Harry pointed his wand at the statue and hissed, "Go back to the way you were."
When nothing happened, Harry frowned and thought for a moment. "Stop being stone and be flesh and bone," he commanded
This time he felt the magic swell forth. He hadn't really wanted to see the corpse, but found that against his will his gaze was drawn to the transformation unfolding at his feet. An odd memory rose to the surface of his mind. The Wizard of Oz, that scene when everything went from black and white to sparkling colour. It was just like that.
Instead of white tinged with veins of grey and blue, Lucius Malfoy was suddenly taking on a myriad of hues: palest gold-tinted hair, silver and purple embroidery on the trim of plum-coloured robes, flesh tones--an angry flush fading from the aristocratic face right before Harry's eyes. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that the man on the floor was dead. The absence of life in those silver eyes was unmistakable. For a fleeting moment Harry thought of Cedric, but the thought fought against a stronger emotion that Harry couldn't quite define.