Confessions - closed
This was never going to be easy. Every time he’d thought about it over the last few weeks, Gideon had felt his stomach quail. At the very least this would result in public humiliation that he knew he’d never really recover from... at the worst, it would destroy his life entirely.
But the guilt he felt every time he looked at Rebecca drowned out the fear. She had far more courage than he did; knowing the risks, she’d still chosen to stand up for what she believed in, putting herself in terrible danger and coming an inch from death in the process. He’d thought his heart was going to shatter beyond repair when he saw her lying in a hospital bed, pale and still and barely even breathing.
Even once she was able to get up, she was shaky and weak for a long time, and he couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened if the curse had hit just an inch to the right. He knew it was one of his own companions, one of the Death Eaters, who’d almost killed her. And he’d supported it all - the cold, blinkered, cruel-minded bigotry that had led to the battle.
He owed this to her to make things right, now he finally saw just how cruel and ruthless the regime of Lord Voldemort had really been. He owed it to his brave girl to acknowledge that what he had done was wrong, and that she’d been right to stand up against it.
So, once Rebecca was well enough to look after herself, he’d written to the new Minister asking for an appointment, giving no real hints as to what it was about. Protected by his own glowing credentials and the fact that none of the surviving Death Eaters seemed to have seen fit to turn him in, he’d been left alone, and now he could use that to his advantage.
Now he was walking into the Ministry this morning, drawing his personal dignity around him like a shield as he collected his visitor’s badge, presented his wand for inspection, and headed towards the lifts to go to the Minister’s office on Level One. It was almost automatic; he’d visited these offices so often over the past twenty years or so that he knew the way well.
Running over what he wanted to say in his mind, he stopped outside the Minister’s office, took a slow breath, braced himself, and knocked.
@picklerps
