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Assistant: Title: The Evans Boy: Victims of Peace
        Author: lonibal lonibal 
        Chapter: 2/2 
        Summary: Part 3 of The Evans BoyDeathly Hallows timeline starting Chapter 1
            
            Prologue - July 1997
        Contents: Chapter 2: Bad Vision
    

    

        
          
          
            July 1997
          
        

      
        
          
          (See the end of the chapter for  notes.)
          
      
  

  
  
    
    “Young master,” Kreacher said, peering over the edge of Monty’s bed. “What potion is that?”Monty frowned at the silver vapor spilling out of the vial, dense and slow-moving, almost liquid in its appearance. “Draught of Peace,” Monty said, tipping the vial. The placid turquoise potion flowed to the lip. “That is a very dangerous potion,” Kreacher grumbled, one hand creeping over the side of the bed. “Master—”“Is at an Order meeting,” Monty said flatly. “I’m only going to take a drop.”Kreacher scowled. “Young master is up to no good. Young master is to wait for Master’s return.”Hedwig shuffled on her perch, and even Hester looked up from where she draped over her rings.“I’ve waited a week,” Monty said, closing his eyes. “I’ve waited a  year. I’m not waiting any longer.”Kreacher made an unhappy noise, then turned his milky, oversized eyes to what else lay on Monty’s bed. “This is too much,” Kreacher mumbled, looking over the dozens of vials and bottles that surrounded Monty. It was the only source of light in the otherwise dark room. The subtle, insubstantial light of his memories. “I agree,” Monty said, carefully placing a single drop of the potion onto a finger. “I’ve brewed this myself, so I know it’s safe.” Without waiting for another objection, Monty popped it into his mouth. Kreacher grumbled again, but Monty was beyond caring. A faint, soothing hum spread throughout him, like a baby sung to sleep by his mother’s lullaby. Monty could not remember his mum ever singing him a lullaby, but that didn’t matter. He couldn’t care. Tranquility smothered every other emotion that attempted to surface.The Draught of Peace was orders of magnitude more potent than a Calming Draught. Peace itself was ever elusive, not something Monty had ever truly known even as the rest of the magical world moved on in Voldemort’s absence. Even the name  Voldemort  stirred no feeling in him. There was nothing wrong with the world. Nothing wrong with him. Only a quiet contentment, clandestinely brewed for one purpose. Monty lethargically corked the vial and handed it off to a distraught Kreacher. “I no longer need this,” he said from far away. The memories. He was surrounded by them. They were outside of him, and within were the scars of their removal. It gnawed at him like a forgotten dream, grasping the elusive threads of something lost, something which could never be regained. It didn’t hurt so much now, when nothing had never been wrong and could never be wrong, but the discordance was spread around him. This sour note tainted the peace the potion compelled. Monty reached for one memory. It wasn’t much, contained in a small, unbreakable vial. A potions vial. It was the first memory. The oldest one. One which had wrought a change Monty could not fully trace. Had it been intentional, or mere coincidence? Was there ever such a thing as coincidence with magic? Or had something older, deeper, more vast than they could comprehend, moved them all to that point in time?Not many people knew they had met on the train. Something ran down Monty’s face. He slowly reached up to touch it. A tear. Monty brought the small vial to his eye. A thin, silver mist swirled within. Even through the unbreakable glass, he could feel its warmth. The shape of it taking form. The beginning of something. The end of everything. Monty held the vial to his mouth, and he breathed it in. 





          A quiet, black-haired boy looking up from his book. He could remember the title now.  The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. He had his own copy. A Christmas present.





Another tear ran down his cheek. 








Sweets tumbling from his hands.  
   “You can have some too.” 
 The offer of Chocolate Frog.  
   “What’s your name?” 
 A small, warm smile. Fathomless black eyes seeking out his own.  
   “Harry Evans.” 
               Harry leaned back in his chair, kicking his legs up onto the table. Bellatrix gave him a foul look, but he ignored her. He pulled his fingerless gloves down tighter, checking the fit. Jasmine had made them ages ago, but Harry rarely had occasion to wear them. Now, he didn’t have much of a choice. “My sister,” Bellatrix began. Harry snorted. “If she’s got a problem with it, she can tell me herself.”Bellatrix half rose from her seat. “Narcissa is in mourning!” she spat. “And you  dare  defile her home with your  foul  presence!”“I should write a book about it,” Harry said idly, examining his varnish. Did Percy like the black, or would he prefer purple? “Oh, the things you’ll defile!”“You impudent, presumptuous, catam—”“Bella.”Bellatrix’s mouth snapped shut, and she slowly sat back down. “Master, please,” she said, turning to the Dark Lord imploringly. “Narcissa hasn’t left her rooms in  days! Let me go to her, I beg you! She must see reason!”The Dark Lord was unmoved by this request, and had a bored expression as he stroked Nagini’s head. “Your sister,” the Dark Lord said, emphasizing all the S’s. It was an asinine affectation, but who would tell that to the Dark Lord? “Should be honored to have Lord Voldemort grace her home. To sacrifice her son to our cause.”“She  is  honored,” Bellatrix said hastily. “Honored beyond measure, as am I! Had I any children, it would be the greatest pleasure to sacrifice them to you!”His dad gave him a look of warning, and Harry bit the inside of his cheek. Bellatrix had no idea the Dark Lord was a halfblood. Moreover, a halfblood raised in a muggle orphanage, whose mother was practically a squib. Descendant of Salazar Slytherin or not, the man was still a halfblood. He was living proof that  pureblood  was not synonymous with magical power. In fact, the Dark Lord was an argument  for  mixing with muggles. His mum making the beast with two backs with a muggle instead of her own brother had saved the Dark Lord from crawling around a rundown shack, garbling parseltongue at dead snakes. “It would be a pleasure,” the Dark Lord agreed, still stroking Nagini’s head. Bellatrix looked like she wanted to be Nagini, which would be a vast improvement. Harry cracked his back and looked up at the ceiling. He wanted a cigarette. They’d been sitting in this drawing room for a while, waiting for everyone to show up while Bellatrix made doe eyes at the Dark Lord. This was the Dark Lord’s inner circle, his most trusted Death Eaters, those not dead or in Azkaban. Bellatrix Lestrange. Lorcan Travers. Jasmine’s father, Augustus Rookwood. Greg’s father, Hartman Goyle. Harry’s dad, Severus Snape, was the most inner inner circle member that ever was in. He had killed Dumbledore. He was untouchable. Then there was, of course, Harry. He gave Bellatrix a lazy smile. He had helped salvage Draco’s botch job, confronted Dumbledore on his own before his dad showed up to finish him off. He was also untouchable, and Bellatrix detested it. A number of the Dark Lord’s most ardent followers were still in Azkaban, which was another thing they needed to deal with before things really kicked into gear. With Dumbledore ostensibly dead, the Dark Lord was more confident in moving against the Ministry. There would be no Dumbledore showing up to duel him out of the Atrium, if indeed the Dark Lord chose to personally seize power. Harry didn’t think the Dark Lord would, and his dad agreed. Even if the Dark Lord installed himself as the Minister, someone else would be doing all of the work. The doors to the drawing room finally opened, and Harry rolled his head over to look. It was Corban Yaxley, looking harassed. The blunt-faced man had been exposed as a Death Eater, which was enough to throw a wrench in anyone’s day. That he had been an auror made his fall from grace all the more humiliating. “You have tidings for Lord Voldemort?” the Dark Lord said. Harry let a small smile play on his lips, rather than burst out laughing. “My Lord,” Yaxley said, striding into the room. “I still have access.”“Excellent,” the Dark Lord said. Harry quietly snorted. Percy had access. He could access all sorts of things. But Harry was not going to offer Percy’s services so readily, and the Dark Lord had yet to inquire. There was a twinge in Harry’s head. He kept his expression mildly amused, and his eyes fixed on Yaxley. He would not show any reaction. “There was a minor incident,” Yaxley said. “I ran into Scrimgeour’s—”The pain in Harry’s head suddenly became excruciating, and the Dark Lord released an unearthly scream.Harry’s eyes watered, and that wasn’t something he could control. He leapt out of his seat like everyone else, getting his wand out and looking around the room, even though he knew the source of the Dark Lord’s distress. The Dark Lord screamed over and over again, a piercing wail that grated on every sense, and Nagini was hissing wildly, swinging her head around, and Bellatrix was shouting, and the Dark Lord was shaking violently, tossing his head around like Nagini, his red eyes rolling to the back of his head as he screamed, and screamed, and screamed. “Master!”“My Lord!”“Severus! Do something!”“Master!”Harry met his dad’s eyes, fear threatening to unravel his composure. Something was happening to his brother, and he had no idea what. His dad could still get into wherever Monty and Sirius lived, he’d been let in on the secret, but they were with the Dark Lord. Neither of them could just run off. Bellatrix ran forward, only to get slammed aside by Nagini. Harry’s dad was there too, removing potions from his robes with one hand, casting a spell with another. Was Dumbleodore doing something? More worryingly, was Monty doing something to himself? Did he know?Harry looked desperately at the Dark Lord, his head splitting apart, needing to know what was happening to his brother. Madly, he began to raise his wand. Legilimency. If he could see into the Dark Lord’s mind, see what was going on—The screaming stopped.   Molly Weasley bustled around the cramped dining room, serving tea and biscuits out of nervous habit. The room had recently been expanded to encompass its new purpose, the meeting room of the Order of the Phoenix. Despite this extended space, the room was packed with a paranoid number of dark detectors. Foe-Glasses and Sneakoscopes in all shapes and sizes, fading invisibility cloaks, whirring Secrecy Sensors and quivering Probity Probes. This deranged collection was one reason this was their new headquarters. It came with additional security. Mad-Eye Moody sat at the head of the table, the de facto leader after Dumbledore’s death. His electric blue eye was in constant motion; even though his house had been selected as the most likely to vanish off the face of the earth, and thus had the Fidelius Charm cast on it, the man was always waiting for an attack. Even his dustbins in the garden had been enchanted. He probably had  CONSTANT VIGILANCE  carved into his wooden leg. Sirius tapped his leg with his fingers, listening but offering no input as plans were made to establish more safehouses. Should the secret of the headquarters be betrayed—and Moody was convinced it would be—the Order needed places to retreat to. The Burrow, the homes of Kingsley Shacklebolt, Dedalus Diggle, Minerva McGonagall. Even Dung Fletcher’s bolthole in Knockturn Alley. Bill Weasley, near bursting with water these days, offered up the house he and his fiancée had been gifted in light of their impending wedding. “Good thing Albus switched secret-keepers,” someone remarked tearfully. It  was a good thing, a suspiciously well-timed thing, that Dumbledore had recast the Fidelius Charm on Grimmauld Place and made Sirius secret-keeper. Only five people knew, or had known, the secret of Grimmauld Place. Sirius Black. Monty Potter. Andromeda Tonks.Albus Dumbledore. Severus Snape. Sirius stopped tapping his leg, knowing that Moody could see straight through the table. Probably straight through his pants. Curiously, Snape had not been let in on the secret of Moody’s home. He had been too busy with final exams to attend any Order meetings. Too busy plotting the death of Dumbledore. Sirius didn’t have much thought to spare for this curiosity. He was worried about leaving Monty alone with only a mad six-hundred-year-old house-elf for company. Kreacher had  explicit  orders not to let Monty go haring off on his own. He had  centuries of experience dealing with the varying madnesses of the Black family. Surely he could handle one teenage boy?“Got an owl from the headmistress,” Moody growled. “They’re keeping Hogwarts open.”Sirius nodded absently. This wasn’t new information. Even if they combined their forces, the Ministry and the Order could not protect every magical family in Britain. They could, at the very least, protect the children within Hogwarts. They should have been able to protect Hogwarts. “She needs a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor,” Moody continued. “Now, more than ever,” Arthur Weasley said. He closed his eyes, pained. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with Ron.”“Who’s it going to be?” Sirius asked. If Monty went back to school, there would have to be greater scrutiny as to who was hired.“Me,” Moody said roughly. “Dumbledore had me on a list somewhere.”There were mixed reactions from the people in the room who had Hogwarts-aged children. Moody had been one of the best aurors, certainly the most tenacious, but he wasn’t exactly a stable person. Nor one Sirius would place a child in the care of, particularly with that eye of his. Maybe he was the only one whose mind went there, but the man could see through robes. In a school filled with children? Now he’d had to look into enchanted undergarments to protect his godson. Sirius lit a cigarette, ignoring the few indignant looks he got, especially from the ones who didn’t have kids. They had no idea what sort of sh@t he had to deal with. Moody gave a lopsided grin at their reactions, then he faced Sirius and tapped his blue eye. “I can keep an eye on Potter.”Sirius gave him an insincere smile. “Is Monty going back?” Molly asked worriedly. “I was thinking of keeping Ron and Ginny home.”Sirius took a drag from his cigarette. He hadn’t bothered raising an objection to Monty’s desire to return to Hogwarts. Living constantly under Fidelius was no way to live. Even when they were in hiding without the Fidelius, James and Lily had been going stir-crazy. He wasn’t going to do that to Monty. “He wants to go,” Sirius said simply. Before anything else could be said on the matter, Kreacher appeared at his side. Sirius was instantly on his feet. “What is it? Did something happen?”“How did that get in here?” Moody roared, brandishing his wand. “Black! You—”“Master must come with me,” Kreacher said urgently. He seized Sirius’ sleeve, and Sirius was torn through space and time. Reality reasserted itself in a dim room filled with scattered glassware. His old bedroom. Monty’s bedroom. There was a heartbreaking scream, and Sirius moved. Monty was on his bed, surrounded by empty vials, staring up at the canopy, thrashing, screaming nonstop. “What happened?” Sirius shouted, tripping as he raced to the bed. “Kreacher doesn’t know!” Kreacher wailed. “Young master took a potion, and then he took the memories—”“Get Andromeda!” Sirius snapped. He had always trusted Andromeda, his favorite cousin, the only one of them who hadn’t gone wrong. She was a healer, and if a time came that it was no longer safe for Monty to go to St. Mungo’s or, in the worst case, it was no longer safe for him to leave Grimmauld Place, they needed someone with her skills. Kreacher vanished, and was back just as quickly. Andromeda stumbled, her face pale at the abrupt apparition.Monty was still screaming. “Explain,” Andromeda commanded, staring down at the house-elf. Kreacher rambled something about the Draught of Peace—Sirius knew it was potent, addictive, didn’t know Monty had brewed any, that d@mn kid was going to do what Azkaban failed to do and completely drive him out of his mind—and how Monty had started reabsorbing his memories. “Memories?” Andromeda said, looking around the room. At the dozens and dozens of vials. “How many memories did he remove?”Sirius licked his lips, then placed a hand on Monty’s forehead. The kid was burning up. “He removed all of his memories of Harry Evans. About five years’ worth.”Andromeda looked staggered by this information.“Five  years?” she said, approaching the bed and looking down at Monty. She turned to Sirius. “Someone may remove one or two memories, ones they wish to examine, ones they cannot bear to live with. A few moments here or there. Sirius, this is…this is… I…” Andromeda took out her wand. “Move,” she ordered. Sirius quickly got out of her way. “He attempted to nullify any emotional or mental distress he experienced with the Draught of Peace. But fully restoring  five years  of memories...” Her expression hardened, and she pointed her wand at Monty. A soft white light washed over him. Sirius flinched. The screaming stopped. “He needs to be unconscious for his mind to adjust,” Andromeda said, lowering her wand. “If Severus…” She closed her eyes. “He is proficient in the mind arts. I have some familiarity, but my speciality lies in human transfiguration.”Sirius looked helplessly at his unconscious godson, bracing his hands on the bed. “Why?” he said quietly. “Why didn’t you wait?”“I cannot understate how reckless this is,” Andromeda said. “Monty will probably need some time to recover from this…incident.”“How much time?” Sirius asked, looking up at her. Sirius knew the basics of occlumency and legilimency, but it always struck him as a bit creepy and he’d never had much interest. Snape was the only expert he knew, other than Dumbledore. Neither were an option. His eyes widened. Did Harry know occlumency? That was the sort of thing a kid like him needed to sneak around Voldemort. In fact, the more Sirius thought about it, the more he was convinced. And the kid had to be one hell of an occlumens if he had Voldemort fooled. Sirius looked down at Monty, and realized Harry had trusted him with something that could get him killed. That  would  get him killed. The sort of thing that a desperate sixteen-year-old might pull out of his own head. “F@ck,” Sirius said, sitting heavily on Monty’s bed. “Indeed,” Andromeda said. “I’ll need to do some research. There are likely similar cases.” She sighed, then lightly touched Sirius’ arm. He looked up at her. “This may simply be a case of being emotionally overwhelmed.” She looked at Monty again. “He  does need rest, Sirius. It looks like the poor boy hasn’t slept in days.”Sirius hung his head. “He’s been having sleep problems for years. Since that night, from what he’s told me. Nightmares.” And worse. Visions from Voldemort. Things no kid should have seen. But Sirius didn’t say that to Andromeda.“I’m going to see what I can find,” Andromeda said gently. “Keep an eye on him. If he wakes up screaming, use a sleeping charm. Don’t,” she said firmly, “use another potion. That this is occurring while he is under the influence of the Draught of Peace is troubling.”Sirius nodded. He wasn’t a healer. He didn’t f@ck@ng know what to do. He should have listened more closely when Monty said he wanted to  get it over with. Sirius thought he meant a little at a time, not all at once, but of course his godson would go to the extreme. Of course he would. Sirius rubbed his eyes. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll be back,” Andromeda said, before exiting the room. A minute later, Sirius heard the front door open. “The bl@@dy Order will want to know what happened,” Sirius muttered. He sat up again and looked at Monty. He pushed back his godson’s hair, and felt a pang of guilt at how exhausted he looked. Monty was nearly as tall as James now. Same messy black hair, same bad vision. But that stubbornness? That was all Lily Evans. Evans. Evans.Parent killed by Voldemort. Sirius shook his head. He wanted to ask Monty more, learn what he knew, but hadn’t wanted to push the kid before he was ready. Monty had already been pushed too far. One of these days…Sirius sighed, then stood and begin cleaning up the room.   The Dark Lord’s screaming stopped. His eyes suddenly rolled forward, his red glare fixing on Severus. Severus quickly backed away several steps. “Severus,” the Dark Lord said. “Why is your wand drawn?”“My Lord,” Severus said carefully. “You were having…an episode.”The Dark Lord stared at him. His hands were gripping the arms of his chair. Nagini was unconscious at his feet. “An episode,” the Dark Lord said slowly, as if testing the words. “Master!” Bellatrix cried, trying to shove Severus out of the way. He remained where he was, his attention on the Dark Lord. “What happened? Are you well? Please, allow me—”“Silence,” the Dark Lord snapped. “Sit back down.  Now.”Bellatrix leapt to obey, while Severus was slower to react. He had to know. “Was it the boy?” he asked in a low tone. The Dark Lord’s eyes flashed with ire, and the wood under his fingers cracked. “His existence is inimical to my own,” the Dark Lord said, his voice deadly soft. “As mine is to his.” He fixed his gaze on Severus again. “The  episode  has passed.” He sneered. “Perhaps it was…misguided to taunt the boy so. But he will find no purchase in me. That path is now closed to him.”Severus watched the Dark Lord for a moment longer, his mind racing with implications, then nodded stiffly and returned to his seat. “Yaxley,” the Dark Lord hissed. He clearly wanted to pretend whatever had happened hadn’t actually happened. “Proceed.”Yaxley visibly hesitated, then collected himself. “Yes, my Lord. As I was saying, I came across Scrimgeour’s assistant.”The Dark Lord’s eyes narrowed. Severus glanced at his son, who was doing an admirable job of feigning disinterest.“I recalled what you said, my Lord,” Yaxley continued. “That we must surround the Minister—”“I am familiar with my own words,” the Dark Lord said, leaning forward. “What did you do?”“Yes, my Lord,” Yaxley said, squaring his shoulders. “My apologies. I attempted to place the blood traitor under Imperius.”Severus briefly closed his eyes. Harry started laughing. Severus quietly sighed, then looked at his son. Harry was laughing so hard that he started to cough. The Dark Lord smiled at Harry, then looked at Yaxley again. “If I’m understanding correctly,” the Dark Lord said, “you attempted to place Percival Prewett under Imperius?”“Yes, my Lord,” Yaxley said, glancing at Harry. “Yaxley,” the Dark Lord said, drawing his attention again. “Prewett is an ally.”“My Lord?” Yaxley said. Harry laughed harder. “Of course it failed,” he choked out. He coughed a few times, then said, “Percy’s too stubborn for that. You can’t  Imperius  him, you stupid f@ck@ng piece of sh@t.” “What did you say to me?” Yaxley said, facing Harry. “Care to repeat that, mudblood?”“Yaxley.”Yaxley jerked, then looked at the Dark Lord again. “We do not Imperius our allies,” the Dark Lord told him. “My Lord,” Yaxley said, confused, “the Weasleys are known blood traitors!”“He’s not a Weasley,” Harry said, no longer laughing. Severus closely watched his son as he rose from his seat. No, Harry was not amused. His face had gone eerily blank, and his wand was hanging loosely from his hand. The temperature in the drawing room plummeted.Yaxley inadvertently took a step back. He looked at the Dark Lord again. “My Lord, I didn’t—”The Dark Lord wasn’t looking at Yaxley. He was staring at Harry, his  episode  already forgotten. Harry aimed his wand at Corban Yaxley. Severus propped his head on a hand, already knowing what his son would do. He now wore a small smile, but his eyes were cold.“Percy,” Harry said, “Is  mine.”Yaxley reached for his wand, but it was too late. “Crucio.”

            
  
  

    
      
        
        
          Hi! Welcome to Part III, which is more like Part XIII but whatever.Some general information:I don't have an update schedule. Sometimes it's every day, sometimes it's once every week or two.I don't think this is going to be 700k like the other two "parts," but I don't know how long it is going to be because I have just started writing it and don't have an outline.There's a discord you can join.If you see any typos or continuity errors, let me know in discord.Tags will be updated as needed. Thank you as always for your comments!'
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