Disclair:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I create.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 51: Passing the Interrogation
"You want to fix the western tower?" His father, Fleamont Potter, stared at him with an expression of surprise and…suspicion after he brought up the topic during dinner.
"What for? That place is in ruins. I wouldn't be surprised if it collapsed tomorrow," his mother said.
"That's because we no longer have use for those structures. I was actually considering getting rid of them and building sothing else instead," Fleamont said.
"I told you to do that many tis already," Euphemia said with one of those 'I told you so' tones.
"You can remove the other three towers. I just need one." Jas could already tell that the three other towers would be too difficult to repair anyway.
There is a limit to how much the 'Reparo' charm can fix. It only affects things that have been broken recently. Those towers had probably collapsed decades ago. And one tower was more than enough for him in any case.
"You haven't answered your mother. What do you want with that tower?"
By the way his father was speaking, Jas could tell that he was suspicious he was going to use it for so mischief.
'If I want that place, I will need to show him a bit of my current self. Otherwise, he will never relent,' Jas thought.
"I intend to make a laboratory there. It can be of use when I am on breaks from school." After all, his briefcase was too small to perform anything but a few alchemy experints.
It was also very stuffy, and he was used to working in his massive old Ivory Tower. The one at his new ho is not as big, but it would make him feel a bit more comfortable.
"Laboratory?… To do what?" Now his father was even more suspicious.
"Jas? It can't be potions, right? You failed that class every year," Euphemia said.
Jas rolled back his sleeves. There was a black leather belt underneath, and across the surface of this belt, there were countless tiny pockets.
He, of course, knew exactly what he had stored in each one of them.
Without hesitation, he opened one near his elbow and pulled sothing out. As he did, the object grew in size until it was bigger than his hand.
"Dinsional storage?" His father observed him with curiosity.
"I've never seen those before. Did you buy them from Hogsade?" asked his mother.
"No, I made them." Without further explanation, he placed the object he had just taken from the storage on top of the table. "This is what I wanted you to see."
On the table was a large crystal flask containing a clear liquid inside.
"What is this?" Fleamont picked up the flask and took a closer look.
The liquid had no color and no sll, so unless the person was a skilled potioneer, there was little chance of identifying it.
Jas knew that his father was none of that, but he was still sure that Fleamont Potter would be able to tell what this potion was because he must have seen its effects many tis already.
"Is that a potion? It just looks like water to ," Euphemia comnted.
Fleamont was just thinking the sa and was about to yell at his son to stop wasting their ti with useless jokes, but then he caught sothing as his nose got closer to the lid of the flask.
Most people believe this potion has no taste nor scent, but it does have a very faint scent that only those who are extrely familiar with this potion will be able to pick up...a scent resembling chestnuts.
Fleamont's expression turned ashen, and his face grew several shades paler.
He then put the flask down on the table and took his hand off it, as if he had been burned by its surface.
"Fleamont? What's wrong? You look pale," Euphemia stared at her husband with concern.
Fleamont glared at his son, his eyes filled with anger. "Where did you get Veritaserum, boy? Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get in for having this potion with you? Not to ntion, this is a huge amount."
"Veritaserum?! Jas, that is illegal!" Euphemia almost jumped out of her chair.
"It is illegal to buy, sell, or administer it to soone without the explicit consent of the Ministry of Magic," Jas pointed at the flask. "I made that one."
Fleamont huffed. "And you expect to believe th—...wait!" He tried to stop him, but before he could react, Jas took the flask, opened it up, and allowed two drops to hit his tongue.
He then placed it back down, pointed at it, and repeated, "I made that."
There was a long minute of silence after that.
They kept moving their eyes between him and the crystal flask.
"Fleamont…are you sure it's the real thing? Could it be just water?" Euphemia asked with hesitation.
Fleamont took another look at the flask, opened it up, and sniffed its contents. "No…this is real. I have no doubt." In his line of work, he had to deal with many cases of misuse of magic, and it was very common that they had to use Veritaserum during interrogations to get the truth from lawbreakers.
Over the past thirty years that he had worked in that departnt of the Ministry of Magic, he must have handled Veritaserum thousands of tis.
"You really made this?" his mother asked.
"Yes." There was no hesitation in Jas's voice.
"Last year, you couldn't brew a cure for boils to save your life…and now you want to believe that you can create one of the most difficult potions out there? How is that possible?"
"Magic," Jas responded. He was telling the truth, but he didn't need to go further than that. And to be fair, he didn't exactly know what had happened...just that he had died in one life and awoke in another.
The mories of his eting with the Goddess of Death had not remained with him, just like she had said. So this was all that he knew for now.
"Magic…" Fleamont repeated.
"You trust that this potion is real Veritaserum. You saw take two drops. You know I can only tell the truth. Unless you believe I'm a master of the ntal arts and my Occluncy is so advanced that I can block the effects of such a potent potion."
"Jas, since when can you do these things? Is this because of what happened during the sumr?"
"Yes." Again, he answered the truth without going into details.
"Are you really our son? Didn't you get replaced by a ghost or a demon or sothing?"
"Fleamont! How can you ask sothing like that?! Of course, he is our son."
"I am Jas Potter. I have always been a Potter, and you are the only real family I have ever known," Jas gave him a carefully worded answer so he didn't have to fight the effects of the potion.
"Mmmm…" Fleamont grumbled sothing.
"See?. He is our son. The healer had said that his personality could change due to what happened to him..." Euphemia glared at her husband. Hoping that he would drop this topic already.
Jas waited as his parents exchanged a few looks and whispers. Once they were done, he continued. "Now…let's talk about fixing that tower. I could use a laboratory here."
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