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So I saw the Whumpay prompts “Truth Serum” and “Magic Overuse” and thought, if I don’t write about Harry Potter I’m basically committing a crime.
So we all know Veritaserum exists and it totally should’ve been used to clear Sirius’s name, but for some reason it never happened. I wrote about it set during prisoner of Azkaban, except it’s Whumpay so of course things go wrong
Here’s my crackfic turned angsty hell based on Hermione having common sense and being a little morally grey featuring oblivious Harry, smart Ron, and stupid Cornelius Fudge.
Tw: Erasing memories, headaches on steroids
They had just broken the bars off his cage, the sound of the the metal falling away almost deafening. That’s when it struck her.
“Veritaserum!” She exclaimed. She couldn’t see Harry’s nor Sirius’s face, but she could feel the confusion rolling off them in waves. They both exchanged looks before they stared back at the bushy haired girl, Sirius with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.
“Er- Hermione, what about Veritaserum?” Harry had asked, still planted in front of her on Buckbeak. She slid off the Hippogrif, landing on the stone floor with a small thud, looking back up at Harry.
“It’ll clear his name!” She turned to Sirius now, a smile on her face. “If you take some in front of the Minister of Magic and Dumbledore- well, they can’t very well send you back to Azkaban, can they?”
She was stoked, wand in hand as he grinned happily. Sirius looked dumbstruck. It was the most logical thing he’d ever heard, but for some reason he’d never thought of before.
“This is why you’re the brightest witch of our age.” Harry laughed, finally realizing what this meant- what this could mean. If Sirius was cleared, he could finally escape the Dursley’s. He could finally live with someone who cared about his parents for all they did, and most importantly, cared about him.
“Hermione,” Sirius said, a strange look on his face, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re a genius. Absolutely brilliant.”
Hermione was still smiling when she helped Sirius onto Buckbeak’s back. She was still smiling when she told Dumbledore to summon the Minister; when she told him her grand plan. She was still smiling when the Minister of Magic showed up, looking vaguely annoyed and entirely skeptical.
This would prove it. Right here- this moment, this would prove it. Sirius was innocent.
She held back a grin as he chugged down the Veritaserum, barely containing her glee when he confessed that he hadn’t killed James and Lily. She shot Harry a satisfied glanced when he explained that it had been Peter all along, that he was working for the dark lord. He explained that while he did try to kill him, all he got was a finger.
The tension in the room was thick, waiting for the minister to say something. She gave Harry’s hand a small squeeze in support, waiting.
The smile dropped off her face faster than the speed of light when he said it didn’t matter. Her eyes got dark when he ordered cuffs to be placed on Sirius’s wrists despite the damming truth between them. Her hand twitched to her wand when Sirius’s face dropped in realization that he’d have to go back. She watched the light in his eyes dim, and she couldn’t stop herself. Later she’d blame it on impulsivity- but she knew it wasn’t true. She didn’t feel bad for what she did, she felt vindicated.
“Obliviate!”
At once the Minister and his associate stopped, their faces going blank. A sharp pain pierced her own skull, but she didn’t care. From the corner of her eye she could see Dumbledores surprise, clearly not expecting her to do that, but underneath the shock she could tell he was proud. Sirius looked like he didn’t know whether to be stunned or amused, his face settling somewhere between the two. Harry of course was horrified, standing beside her with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“Hermione!” He yelled, sounding vaguely appalled.
“Don’t.” She snapped, looking back at Harry. “Just take Sirius and wait for me at the cell.”
He shifted on his feet then, glancing over the Minister, the blank eyes staring into the distance. “Hermione, you just-“
“I know what I did!” She snapped, looking back at Fudge. “If he doesn’t want to see reason, well…” she smirked, her hand steady on her wand. “Then I guess he just won’t remember this, will he?”
No one would remember this she thought, watching Harry free his uncle from the godawful shackles. Her head pulsed and she closed her eyes, trying to will away the pain. Hermione waited until she heard his footsteps retreating before she opened them. Once he was gone, she turned to fully face Dumbledore. He gave her a knowing smile, like he knew exactly what she was planning.
“You may not be doing the right thing, but you’re doing it for the right reasons.” He spoke softly, tilting his head ever so slightly as he turned to look at Fudge. “That man was proven innocent, and yet..” he trailed off, looking away from the minister.
Hermione hesitated, her wand faltering in her grip, her palms sweaty where the skin touched wood. Before she could speak, Dumbledore was already raising a hand to silence her.
“I shall take Mr Fudge and his associate back to the ministry. Once I return, I’ll be sure to get rid of any evidence, lest you want a migraine for days.” His voice was smooth but amused, she could practically hear the eyebrow raise, even though she couldn’t see it. Hermione blushed in embarrassment, her gaze darting to the floor for a second. “I promise, no one will know this has been done, my dear.” He leisurely walked over to the two men, like this was an everyday occurrence. (It was Hogwarts, maybe it was.) Dumbledore took ahold of them both by the arm, looking back with a soft but knowing smile. “No one but you.”
———————————————
Hermione didn’t feel any regret when she left the room, now holding her wand firmly, the time turner tucked safely under her shirt.
She didn’t feel any regret when she made it back to Harry and Sirius, both of them in varying stages of confusion and worry.
She didn’t feel any regret when she raised her arm, pointing her wand at the two of them. She let a small apology fall from her lips, a courtesy she knew they wouldn’t remember.
“I’m sorry Harry, Sirius. This is for the best.”
She didn’t feel any regret when their faces went blank, their eyes clouding over. She didn’t feel any regret when she got back on Buckbeak, leading them to think they had just broken the bars.
If the law wouldn’t allow Sirius Black to live his life, then Hermione would. She wasn’t cruel, she wasn’t mean, but some people deserved it. In her eyes, Sirius didn’t. If the price she had to pay was a splitting headache and nausea, then she would pay it. Headaches went away. Nausea went away. The trauma from living with dementors never disappeared. Hermione would be dammed if she let Sirius go back knowing he was innocent.
Later that night the two of them sat in the infirmary with Ron. Harry had taken the role of filling him in while Hermione sat in silence. She massaged her temples every once in a while, for the most part having her head rest in her hand. Earlier she had told them that she was tired, they didn’t question it. The headache raged like a hurricane, battering the inside of her head so violently she almost cried. Her vision doubled, she was so nauseous she genuinely debated grabbing a bucket just in case- but she refused to show it. Not in front of Harry. It would be too suspicious.
She wasn’t paying attention when he told Ron that he felt weird, like he was missing time. She didn’t hear him when he stated that the rescue felt much longer than it was, too focused on the cacophony of drums behind her eyes. Only when he turned to her to ask if she felt the same did she realize what he was talking about. She put her shaking hands onto her lap. Out of sight, out of mind, right? She did her best to sound genuine while she reassured him that everything was okay.
“I mean, the stairs did take a bit longer than usual,” she said with a convincingly thoughtful hum, “Maybe it’s just the adrenaline.. I wouldn’t worry about it.” Her voice was strained, trying her best not to show the pain. She gave Harry a bright smile, and he returned one of his own, even if his didn’t reach his eyes. She felt a pit forming in her stomach, but she quickly pushed it away. Third years weren’t supposed to use that spell, let alone know about it, but Hermione was no ordinary third year. She’d been gifted a time turner, what was one more secret to keep? Yes, her head hurt, a side affect of using magic to powerful for her age, but it was well deserved. She didn’t regret anything she did, even if it meant having a migraine. She’d do it all again in a heartbeat.
After Harry had gone to bed, Hermione stuck around. Ron gave her a side eye from his position on the cot but she rolled her eyes, ignoring the spike of nausea from the action. She gave him an unamused look, quirking up one of her eyebrows. “Really Ronald, everything’s fine. Why are you looking at me like that?”
For a minute he just stared, and she sat there confused. Finally he reached over, placing a hand over top of hers. “Whatever you did..” he paused, unsure if he should continue. “I know you had a good reason to do it.”
She stared at him with wide eyes, but she didn’t respond. Was she really that obvious?
He chuckled for a second at her confused expression, a small sound that filled the air between them. “There are painkillers over there, you know.” He said, jutting his head to a small bottle on his bedside table. “They work faster if you hold ‘em under your tongue- here, let me grab them for you.”
Her eyes went wide with shock and she looked away. Ron was a lot more observant than she gave him credit for, clearly. She heard him grab the bottle, having some difficulty flipping open the lid, and she laughed quietly at his struggle. Her gave her a small smile, finally getting it open with a triumphant yell. She shook her head, he was lucky they were the only people in here. She held out her spare hand and he shook three pills into her palm, closing the cap and putting it away.
“Take one now, and these two tomorrow.” He said firmly, now holding a small mug of water. She looked at him with a grateful smile, popping one of the magical pills into her mouth before she drank the water to help it go down.
“Thank you.” She said, setting the water onto the side table. He just shrugged, looking oddly smug. “What’re friends for?”
Ron gave her hand a pat before pulling back, giving Hermione an easy, reassuring smile. As the feeling of being stabbed in her skull slowly faded away, she smiled back.
You can also read this on Ao3
https://archiveofourown.org/works/65405383
TRUTH SERUM
feel free to ask anything, in character or anonymously, and my character will be forced to answer truthfully.
Send a question to:
zahra | katherine | ayca | laena | mari | saella | rhys | matilda | ravi
rosa | ophelia | morra | cassana | harlon | theo | mellara | axell | ellie
feel free to ask anything, in character or anonymously, and my character will be forced to answer truthfully.
rosa | ophelia | morra | cassana | harlon | theo | mellara
"You poisoned me." Hero's hand goes to their throat, already feeling the burn, the effect of the toxin. They realized the moment they took a drink from pretty red wine Villain suggested they share.
"Not poison. Not exactly." Villain tuts. "Truth serum. It's considered a minor toxin but by no means dangerous to the average person."
Hero's eyes widen. They feel the sting of betrayal, harsher than the burn in their throat.
"Why?" They croak. "Was this the only reason you suggested dinner together?" Their eyes burn.
Villain eyes them for a moment. "You're privy to a lot of useful information about the other heroes. Information I could find useful. As for your other question," They drawl, "Why? Would you be upset by that?" Villain almost smirks.
Already feeling the effects, Hero is unable to lie. "Yes." They answer quietly. They try to avoid Villain's gaze, waiting for the interrogation to begin, meal abandoned. "I was happy when you asked me." Their words spill out of them unbidden.
They miss the surprised look on Villain's face at this admission. Quiet settles over them for a long moment.
"Looking forward to trying to mend my villainous ways?" Villain eventually huffs. "Did you hope that a nice dinner together would have been enough to change me?" Their tone borders on defensive.
Tears threaten to spill over Hero's lashes. They try to get control of their emotions, but the serum is doing something to their control, their inhibition.
"No." They confess. "No. I just wanted to spend time with you." They still can't meet Villain's gaze, the table below beginning to blur.
"Why?" Villain asks, sounding incredulous, sounding almost spooked. "We're enemies. I've nearly killed you countless times."
Hero gulps, trying to stop the words from coming out, mentally clawing at themselves to stop speaking. They tumble out anyway.
"I like spending time with you." Their hand goes to grip the table, to steady themselves as they lose control of their own voice. "I like spending time with you especially when we're not fighting."
"Stop it." Villain demands. Now it's their turn for their voice to wobble.
"I really like you." Tears brim over Hero's cheeks now, and they hear Villain suck in a harsh breath. They can't stop the words now that they're flowing out. The dam has been broken.
"Stop talking. Stop it." Villain sounds more desperate now.
"I was hoping you'd kiss me tonight."
The table shakes loudly as Villain stands, dining ware nearly falling over. Hero finally looks up at them, trying to blink away their tears. They see Villain's hollowed expression. They let out a rattling breath.
"This was a mistake." Villain finally says. Hero sees the way they dig their nails into the table cloth, before their vision is blurred by more tears. "I shouldn't have done this."
"Dinner..? Or tricking me?" Hero's voice is rough, raspy.
Villain is silent for a long moment. "It doesn't matter. What's done is done." Now it's their turn to not meet Hero's eyes.
"I'd let you take me to dinner again." Hero gulps, the truth still spilling out of them with ease. "I wish you'd take me to dinner again. Even if you trick me another time." Shame swirls in Hero's gut as they admit to this pathetic truth. It doesn't matter how many times they get burned, it won't change how much they imagine Villain's lips on theirs, their hands on them.
"I need to go." Villain's throat bobs. They shove themselves away from the table harshly, the wine spilling over. Hero watches them leave as their tears drip below.