And here is chapter three. Enjoy it.
Once more, many thanks to Kathy for her help.
PART I
TALES OF NEW MYSTERIES
Chapter 3
Interrogation
"Hermione, are you completely sure you want to —?" Ron started to ask, for the third time, while they had breakfast in the kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, the next morning.
"Yes, Ron. Don't insist, please," she cut in, sounding a bit tired. "I feel perfectly well and there is a lot to do." She drank the rest of her juice and, with a flick of her wand, sent the dishes to the sink, where they started to wash themselves. Then she looked at him. "I am fine, seriously," she added, in a softer voice, "You don't have to worry."
He stood up and moved closer to her, putting one arm around her shoulders.
"I'm just saying that you can come later to give us your declaration."
"I want to be part of this, Ron. Those men attacked me. They tried to destroy our family, and not only that, but everything we fought for!"
Ron sighed. "I know, I know. That's what I'm saying, Hermione. They attacked you! It's too soon. And the healer said you needed to rest," he added.
"Well, I rested more than enough. I slept wonderfully."
His serious expression dissolved into a smirk. "Yeah? And what caused that?"
She felt her cheeks flush slightly and slapped him on his right shoulder. "Idiot!"
He laughed and then gave her a kiss on her lips. "Let's go, then?" he asked, accepting that he wasn't going to convince her.
"Yes," she nodded.
They used the fireplace in the kitchen to travel to the Atrium that was still a bit quiet so early in the morning. As they headed for the lifts, Hermione felt herself getting a bit anxious. Despite her assurances to Ron, the prospect of seeing her attackers again, even if they were now locked up, didn't precisely thrill her, so she did what she usually did when she was a bit nervous, and looked at the golden statue in the middle of the Atrium. As always, she found herself smiling.
The statue had been one of the first changes after Kingsley had been named Minister. The horrible monument to wizard superiority built under the regime of Pius Thicknesse had been demolished, and, in its place, they had constructed a semi-sphere engraved with the faces and names of each elf, wizard, giant, goblin or centaur that had died fighting Voldemort.
And it had been all her idea. She had told Kingsley just a few days after the Battle of Hogwarts, in a meeting at The Burrow where he had informed them that the monument of 'Magic is Might' was going to be destroyed. It had been her first contribution to the new Ministry, even before her last year at Hogwarts, and she couldn't help but feel rather proud of it.
Ron grasped her hand, and she realised he had noticed her look at the monument. She didn't look at it usually, because she didn't want people — or herself — to think she was full of herself. She only looked at it when she was nervous or felt insecure about something, and Ron knew it.
"You don't have to come, you know," he told her once more and stopped walking. "You can go to your office and we can hear your declaration there."
"No, I'm fine," she assured. He stared at her disbelievingly, so she added, "Really."
Ron didn't say anything else. They got into a lift alone, and pushed the number two. The lift started moving upwards, until it arrived at level two, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
When the golden doors opened, Ron and Hermione headed straight away for the Auror Office, from where the loud sound of two people arguing could be heard.
"You've got to be kidding!" Hermione turned her head towards the other end of the room, where the door to the office of the Head of the Aurors was, and saw that Harry was the one who had yelled. He was arguing with Ferdinand Blevelty, his and Ron's boss.
Hermione looked at Ron and noticed that he was staring at Harry and Blevelty, too. Blevelty was saying something in that moment, in a more calm tone, and she couldn't understand what he was saying. Then, she remembered something and frowned.
"Wasn't Blevelty on leave because of that disease his daughter got?" she asked Ron while they resumed walking.
"I forgot to tell you," answered Ron. "He came back yesterday. Apparently, his daughter started recovering a few days ago and she's loads better now."
"Seriously?" Hermione asked, surprised. From what she had read, Blevelty's daughter had got Schebert's Magical Deficiency Syndrome, an illness for which there wasn't any cure. It was very rare, fortunately, because only one out of ten children that got it made a full recovery. The rest, even if they didn't die — which was the most frequent outcome of the disease, — got so magically weak that they were not able to resist the simple touch of a magical wand. "She's lucky. It is almost a miracle to recover from that illness."
"Yeah, he seemed pretty content about it," affirmed Ron.
"Content?" repeated Hermione disbelievingly, thinking about her own daughter. "He should be ecstatic!"
"You know he's very calm," said Ron, lowering his voice, because they were now close to the two arguing men.
"Harry, please, you have to see reason," Blevelty was saying patiently.
"Reason?" Harry repeated, red in the face. Hermione stared at him, wondering what would have got him so riled up. Then Harry noticed movement and turned his head to look at them. "Oh, here they come. Let's see what they think!"
"What's the matter?" Ron asked, frowning and forgetting his manners.
"Oh, Weasley, Granger," greeted Blevelty. He was in his mid-forties, and was almost as tall as Ron and pretty well-built, though, Hermione noticed, he was a lot thinner than before, surely because of the ordeal his family had went through. He had short dark hair sprinkled with white ones, and his eyes were a penetrating shade of grey. He had been a good friend of Kingsley in the Auror Office, and when the current Minister had had to flee during the last year of the war against Voldemort, Blevelty had been one of the few that had helped him in secret. When Kingsley became Minister, he appointed him as Head of the Auror Office and he was recognised as one of the best assets of the new Ministry.
"Good morning, Mr Blevelty," said Hermione politely. "Ron has just told me about your daughter — I'm very glad to hear she's getting better."
"Thank you, Mrs Granger," he said with a small smile. Harry frowned.
"Tell them what you've just told me," Harry demanded, clearly affronted.
"What's the matter, Harry?" Ron asked again, looking at his best friend and boss alternately. "We could hear you shouting from the entrance to the Department."
"What happened is that, apparently, we're off the case of the Death Eaters that attacked Hermione," explained Harry, glaring at Blevelty, who didn't seem fazed about it.
"WHAT!" exclaimed Ron, staring at Blevelty in disbelief. "You can't do that! It's my wife we're talking about! Those bastards broke into my house and almost killed my wife and — and — you can't take us off of the case!"
"Yes, I can, Weasley," Blevelty said, trying to maintain his composure. "And that's precisely the reason. You and Potter are too involved. It would be something personal and —"
"Of course it is personal!" said Ron hotly, his eyes flaming and his ears red. "Do I have to repeat that —?"
"No, you don't," Blevelty interrupted him. "We're here to bring justice, not revenge."
"What do you mean?" asked Harry. "Do you think we're going to enter there —" he pointed towards the door that led to the corridor where the custody cells were, "— and kill them?"
"Well, I wouldn't put it past Ronald right now," admitted Blevelty. "And I'm not surprised. In fact, it's perfectly normal and understandable. If it were my wife or my children, I'd do the same. And that's why, according to the rules, you can't be part of this case," he stated.
"That rule didn't matter to you 'til now!" yelled Harry.
"You'd never had to deal with a case like this one in the past," Blevelty replied, and, before either Harry or Ron could add anything, he turned towards Hermione. "Hermione, you know I'm right."
Hermione gulped, a bit taken aback. Ron and Harry were staring at her, waiting for her to say that what Blevelty was saying was nothing but a pile of rubbish and that there was no one better suited than them to handle the case.
"Mr Blevelty is right," she said with a sigh, and looked down to avoid the looks of disappointment she knew she was about to receive from them.
"WHAT?" bellowed Harry.
"What'd you say?" added Ron softly, a trace of incredulity in his voice.
She breathed in slowly and then looked at their shocked faces. "Look, Harry, Ron ... there is a reason why victims can't be judges or executioners. I think Mr Blevelty is right, and that it would be better if another Auror took care of this."
"I can't fucking believe you," said Ron, narrowing his eyes.
"Ron," she scolded him.
"That's rubbish, Hermione, and you know it!" argued Harry. "Then, when I faced Voldemort, should I have asked someone else to do it, because it was personal?"
"That was different," said Hermione.
"You don't know whether that's true or not!" replied Harry. "You don't know, Hermione, and neither do we, because we can't investigate it!"
"Shut up, all of you!" then shouted Blevelty, mustering all his authority. "I understand you're a bit nervous to give up control, but this is enough! I'll make a deal with you: I'll let you select the Aurors to lead the investigation, and you'll be the ones to take Hermione's declaration. Besides, you can watch the interrogation if you want. But that's all, and I demand from you two —" he pointed his index and middle fingers at Harry and Ron, "— to behave, or I'll force you to take the day off and send you home, do you understand?"
Harry and Ron nodded grudgingly, clearly very angry.
"All right then. Let me know when you have decided." He turned round and opened the door but, before walking into this office, he looked at Hermione once more. "I'm glad you're all right, Hermione. Very glad."
"Thanks, Mr Blevelty," Hermione said, and, with a nod, Blevelty entered his office and closed the door.
Immediately, Ron and Harry moved away from the door, walked along a corridor between the cubicles and entered Harry's. They didn't bother to tell Hermione anything, acting as though she wasn't there, so she just followed them, exhaling a sigh. How could they still be so childish sometimes? Okay, she understood that they were angry, but for heaven's sake, they were twenty-five years old!
"Terry Boot?" asked Harry, sitting in his chair when Hermione entered the cubicle. Ron was leaning against the desk with a thoughtful expression on his face. He nodded.
"It's okay with me," he said. "And put Julie to it, too. They are the ones in charge of the prisoners now, aren't they?"
"Yeah," said Harry with a nod. "Do you want to go there now?"
"As soon as possible," said Ron. "Then we will see what we can do."
"Wouldn't it be better if you took my declaration before?" Hermione asked, a bit tired of being ignored.
Ron glared at her. "I don't know," he spat. "Surely you'd prefer another person to do it?"
"Of course not!" she replied, offended. "Why would I want that?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Ron, feigning to think about it. "Let me guess: maybe because you think we're not capable of handling this case and that, instead of bringing them to justice, we'll hang them from a tree or something like that?"
"I've never said such a thing!" she responded heatedly.
"Well, you could have fooled us," retorted Ron.
Hermione breathed deeply and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to control her own anger. She sighed loudly and then opened her eyes again, focusing them on Ron. "Look, Ron. You know I have absolute faith in you — in both of you. But Blevelty is your boss, he gave you an order and he's right in a way. I don't believe that you are going to hang them, but you yourself said yesterday that you wanted to kill them even though we want them to go to prison."
Ron clenched his fists, furious, and then moved forward, advancing upon her slowly.
"You don't understand," hissed Ron. "Yes, I wanted to kill them. Of course I did! But I didn't do it, did I?" he added, and made a brief pause. "They attacked you ," he stated, pressing his index finger to her chest. "You. Am I going to kill them? No. But you can be sure that I want to scare the living daylights out of them, so any other fucking Death Eater wannabe in this bloody country will know better than to mess with my family ever again!" he finished, raising the volume of his voice as he spoke.
Hermione stared at Ron in awe, feeling a lonely tear run down her cheek. She let out a sob before answering. "I don't understand?" she repeated, her eyesight blurring due to unshed tears. "Of course I understand, Ron! I was there! It was me who they wanted to kill, me and our baby! I wanted to kill them too! But that's not right and we know it," she added, lowering her voice. She wiped away her tears forcefully and sniffed loudly. "The rules say you shouldn't be part of the case, and you know it. We've worked hard to be here, and I don't want people, like Wilson, going all around and saying that you get to break the rules that everyone else must follow, that you're here just for being who you are." She made a pause, and added, more calmly. "I don't want to row, Ron. It's not what I want right now."
Ron looked at her, a bit puzzled, but now the anger inside him seemed to have vanished as well. He let out a sigh, too, and next moment she was between his arms and pressed against his chest in a tight embrace.
"I know, I know. Sorry, love," he said soothingly, kissing the top of her head. "It's just — I want to make sure those sick bastards can't get near us ever again."
"I know," she said in a whisper only he could hear, and she put her arms around his torso. Ron cupped her cheeks and made her look up at him. He brushed new tears with his thumbs and then bent down and kissed her softly on her lips. She responded at once, leaning into his mouth and making the kiss slightly more passionate.
"Ahem," coughed Harry, reminding them he was still there and that this was, in fact, his cubicle.
Ron and Hermione moved away from each other, both of them a bit flushed. Hermione looked at Harry and smiled sheepishly.
"Sorry, Harry," she said.
Harry waved one hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter, but we should get on with this. I want this interrogation done as soon as possible."
Ron closed and soundproofed the cubicle while Hermione sat down in another chair. Harry got official parchment and a quill and began to write as Hermione talked, repeating the story she had told them the evening before without interruption. But, when she was going to mention the cloaked stranger, Ron stopped her.
"Wait, do we want to get that written?" he asked Harry.
"I don't know," said Harry. "Good question."
"What?" asked Hermione, looking at them both alternately. "This is supposed to be my testimony! My official testimony!"
"Blevelty ordered us not to investigate the attack," said Ron. "But if they don't know anything about the cloaked man, we could investigate that on our own."
Harry thought about it for a moment, but then shook his head. "No, it wouldn't work," he said.
"Why not?"
"Because how are we going to explain what happened to the Death Eaters?" interjected Hermione, suddenly reaching the same conclusion Harry had. "I can't feign it was me who beat them, not when you, accompanied by more Aurors, found me unconscious. And besides," she added, "the Death Eaters will probably speak about him."
"Oh, yeah, you're right," nodded Ron dejectedly. "Continue, then."
So Hermione gave her final account of the story and, when she had finished, Harry made a magical copy, signed both of them, and gave it to Hermione to do the same.
"Shall we proceed with the interrogation now?" Ron asked.
"Yeah," nodded Harry, getting to his feet.
Hermione stood up as well.
"I'll go with you, and then I'm going to take the day off and head for Hogwarts."
Both men looked at her in surprise.
"Hogwarts? What for?" asked Ron.
"I want to know more about the cloaked man and how he did what he did. Wandless magic is perfectly possible, but, to the extent he used it? I've never heard of that. I doubt even Voldemort was able to do something alike, or move in that way, or resist a Stunning Spell without a Shield Charm," she explained quickly. "I'll ask Professor McGonagall if I can use the Hogwarts Library. It's the largest in the whole country. In fact, it's one of the largest in the entire world. Maybe I'll find something useful there."
"Didn't you say we were ordered not to investigate this case?" asked Harry with the slightest trace of a grin.
Hermione smiled back at them. "Well, as Ron said, he is not part of the attack, is he? I'm just investigating a rare form of magic, that's all."
Harry and Ron exchanged an amused glance, and then turned again to look at her.
"I love you, you know that?" said Ron.
- - - o - - -
Hermione sat on the chair beside Ron, facing the magic wall that would allow Ron, Harry and she to watch and listen to what happened in the interrogation room. Harry and Ron had appointed Terry Boot and Julie Simmells as the ones in charge of the case, and Blevelty had approved.
She knew Julie Simmells too well, and was not surprised at all that Ron had chosen her. She was two years younger than Ron, and had been in Ravenclaw at Hogwarts. During her last year of training, Ron had been appointed as her personal instructor. She was short, but rather pretty. She also was intelligent, very determined and fiery, and Ron had become very protective of her. Of course, she knew that his feelings towards her were those of a mentor and brother, but, for a long time, after having met her, she hadn't been able to avoid feeling the pangs of jealousy every time Ron mentioned her. She had made the mistake of getting angry at Ron about her once. Once her jealousy had been revealed, Ron had made the mistake of laughing about it. That had led to the worst row they had had since they had become a couple, and Hermione had felt very bad about it afterwards. After admitting to Ron what an idiot she had been, she had made the effort to get to know the girl, and had grown to care about her a lot, too. She was very intelligent and skilled, besides funny, and seemed to consider Hermione sort of a role model, something that she — secretly — enjoyed.
And, of course, she knew Terry Boot. Another Ravenclaw that had been part of Dumbledore's Army at Hogwarts, during the war, and that had fought valiantly under the Carrows regime at Hogwarts and in the final battle. He had been one of the members that had joined the Aurors, alongside Harry, Ron, Neville, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Neville was no longer among them, because after they had captured all the escaped Death Eaters, he had taken a position at Hogwarts, as the apprentice of Professor Sprout. She was about to retire and Neville had confessed that being the Herbology professor had always been his true dream.
The sound of a door opening took Hermione out of her own thoughts. She looked towards her right, and saw Terry entering the room. He smiled at her.
"Hermione. I'm glad to see you're fully recovered."
"Good morning, Terry. Yes, I'm perfectly fine, thank you."
"Good," he said, and then added, looking at her and Ron, "I think Congratulations are in order."
"Thanks," said both of them at the same time. This was not the way Hermione had wanted to inform people that she was pregnant, but nothing could be done about it now.
Terry smiled at them before focusing his attention on Harry. "They're going to bring them in. We've read Hermione's declaration and have everything figured out."
"Perfect," said Harry approvingly. He sat down on the other side of Hermione, and Terry left the room.
"Do you — do you know their names?" Hermione asked him while they waited for the Death Eaters to be brought into the interrogation room.
"Yes," said Harry, taking a piece of parchment from the table behind them. "Adrian Pucey, twenty-seven. He —"
"Pucey?" repeated Hermione. "That was the one I blasted, I think."
"Yes, he was pretty injured," nodded Harry. "In fact, he hasn't recovered yet."
"His name sounds familiar."
"He was on the Slytherin Quidditch team," explained Ron.
"Oh, yes," said Hermione.
"Then there is James Mathery, thirty-five; Rudolf Scholdt, twenty-four, and Marvin Gealt, twenty-eight."
"Rudolf Scholdt? Is he German?" asked Hermione.
"Austrian," answered Harry.
"That's strange," commented Ron. "There weren't foreign Death Eaters, apart from Karkaroff."
"Well, we caught all of them, so maybe they've gone recruiting abroad," said Harry darkly.
The door on the other room opened, drawing their attention, and Terry Boot and Julie Simmells entered, taking two seats on the right side of the table placed in the centre of the room. A moment later, a man walked in, accompanied by another Auror whose name Hermione didn't know, and she tensed in her seat. This was the man that had kicked her in the stomach. He looked scary, but also, Hermione noticed, afraid.
The Auror forced him to sit in front of Terry and Julie using his wand. Hermione fidgeted in her seat, feeling anxious.
"Are you okay, Hermione?" Ron asked, grasping her left hand in his. He threw a death glare towards the man in the other room, who was now looking all around him. "You don't have to be here."
"I'm fine, I'm fine," she assured. "Just — just a little nervous. Don't worry."
"Good morning, Mr Gealt," started Terry, drawing the other man's attention. "As you know, you were captured yesterday in the house of Mr Ronald Weasley and Mrs Hermione Granger, and you're accused of the attack and murder attempt on the afore-mentioned Mrs Hermione Granger. Can —?"
"I was the one unconscious, wasn't I?" retorted Gealt, interrupting Terry.
"We have here —" Terry lifted the piece of parchment Hermione had signed before, "— a full testimony from Mrs Hermione Granger, who, in short, accuses you and your friends of breaking into her house, threatening to kill her, insulting her using words such as 'bitch' and 'Mudblood' — a word that, if you didn't know, is forbidden — and using the Cruciatus curse and physical violence against her." Terry's eyes wandered over Gealt's body for a moment. "And, by her description, you were the one that kicked her in the stomach, knowing full well that she is pregnant."
Hermione almost could feel Ron's fury growing and radiating off him, and he tightened his grip on her hand. "It was him? This — this son of a bitch?"
Hermione nodded silently, and squeezed his hand in return to soothe him.
"The only thing I know is that I woke up here," replied Gealt defiantly.
Neither Julie nor Terry said anything for a while; they simply looked at him. Gealt started to fidget nervously in his seat. Finally, after almost two minutes of silence, Terry spoke.
"Are you sure that's what you want to say?"
"I'm pretty damn sure, yeah," Gealt answered.
Terry looked at him for another half a minute.
"You're claiming you're innocent, then?"
"I did nothing wrong, okay? So release me already, dammit!"
Another half-minute of silence.
"Sandal wood, nine and a half inches, unicorn hair. Is that a wand you recognise, Mr Gealt?"
"Yes, it's mine," said Gealt a bit grudgingly.
"And are you aware that, when we investigated it, we found that the last spells performed with it were Stunning Spells and ... the Cruciatus curse?"
Gealt opened his mouth, not really knowing what to say.
"Are you aware that performing the Cruciatus Curse means a life sentence in Azkaban?" added Julie.
Gealt grunted.
"Mr Gealt, you are in a very difficult situation," explained Terry in a very calm voice. "You have performed unforgivable curses, and have been accused of attacking Hermione Granger, a Ministry official. Are you aware that said Mrs Hermione Granger is a war hero? Right now, the entire population of Britain is reading the newspapers and asking for your head. She'll testify in front of the Wizengamot, and believe me, there is no chance you're going to escape this. I'd advise you to cooperate. Things will be easier. We have the authority to use Veritaserum on you, and we are seriously considering it."
Gealt looked at both his interrogators, first in fear, but then he frowned, and shouted, visibly angry, "Okay, yes! We broke into her house and I gave a good kicking to that Mudblood bitch! What's wrong with that?"
Hermione flinched at the hate and anger in Gealt's voice, and Ron put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. It didn't soothe her, though, because she could feel the anger radiating off him.
Neither Terry nor Julie reacted to this outburst, though, knowing her, Hermione could see that Julie was boiling inside.
"Were you, Mr Gealt, a member of the army of Lord —" Terry hesitated for a moment, "V-Voldemort?"
Gealt flinched and recoiled in his seat, as if the name had been a curse.
"No, never."
"Who was in command during the attack last night?"
"I'm not telling you anything else."
"Veritaserum, Mr Gealt," Terry reminded him.
"Go fuck yourself."
"All right then," said Terry, unfazed. He looked at the other Auror. "Take this piece of scum back to his cell."
The other Auror made Gealt stand up, rather forcefully, and took him out of the room.
"Not very productive," commented Harry.
"I should be the one in there," said Ron darkly. "Then we would see if he would speak more or not."
"Are they going to use Veritaserum on him?" asked Hermione.
"Probably, after they check he hasn't done anything to prevent its effects," answered Harry.
Hermione watched Terry and Julie fill out some parchments. After one or two minutes, Terry touched a small semi-sphere that was placed on the table. It glowed, and he said into it, "Bring Mathery."
The semi-sphere was connected to the management office for the holding cells, situated in Level Nine, near the courtrooms. There was a special lift that only travelled between the cells and the interrogation area of the Auror Office. It was safer than having the arrested wizards and witches use the common lifts.
"Mathery is the oldest of them," commented Harry, looking at Hermione. "He is the one you think was the leader, isn't he?" he asked.
"Yes, he is," answered Hermione.
They fell silent again, because the door in the other room had opened once more, and this time, the tall man with the wealthy appearance was ushered in. He looked calmer and much more serene than Gealt. He took the seat and stared at Terry and Julie disdainfully.
"James Mathery," started Julie, "you are here for interrogation due to the attack and attempted murder of Mrs Hermione Granger that took place yesterday evening, at the victim's house. Do you deny this accusation?"
"I don't," said Mathery, rather defiantly.
Hermione looked at Mathery, dumbfounded. In the interrogation room, Terry and Julie seemed a bit shocked as well.
"You don't?" asked Terry. "Do you admit to having broken into her house, using the Cruciatus curse against her, and attempting to kill her?"
"Well, as surely you know, we didn't get close to the 'killing her' part, but yes, that was our intention."
"Mrs Hermione Granger declared that you acted as the leader of the group. Is that true?"
"Yes, I was the one in command."
"What's he doing?" said Harry, completely shocked.
"Were you, ever, under the orders of the wizard known as Lord V-Voldemort?" continued Terry.
"I wasn't living in the country at that time. I came back four years ago."
"What was the reason behind last night's attack, Mr Mathery?"
Mathery chuckled. "Reason? She is a Mud—"
"Don't use that word here!" warned Julie, scowling at him, and Hermione noticed that, despite how small she was, she looked rather intimidating.
Mathery looked at her contemptuously, and said, sneering, "She is a Mudblood who helped bring down the best wizard this country had seen in centuries. Is that reason enough?"
"So, it was just an act of revenge on behalf of a wizard you never knew and for whom you didn't care to come back while he was in power?" said Terry, his tone clearly stating that he found the story rather unlikely. "Was just a way of teaching her — all of us who fought in the war — a lesson?"
"I didn't come because — well, I couldn't. But I wanted to, so yes, that is what we wanted to do."
"So, when you broke into the Weasley-Granger residence last evening, it wasn't part of some sort of mission?" asked Terry, and Hermione saw how Mathery's face paled instantly.
"What? A mission? No! Where did you get that idea from?"
"Interesting," said Ron, putting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward.
"So this is why he was telling everything," commented Harry. "He was trying to protect the person behind the attack."
Terry couldn't help a smirk while he looked down at Hermione's declaration. "Hermione Granger heard you tell your men that the mission was the only thing that mattered."
Mathery tried to hide his astonishment, but unsuccessfully. It was clear that he hadn't expected Hermione to hear that, or that she would survive to tell. "Well, yes, it was the mission I had prepared."
"Are you sure, Mr Mathery?" interjected Julie. "Because you see, Hermione Granger states that your exact words were 'our mission.' And that sounds, if you ask me, as if someone else had ordered you to do what you were doing."
Mathery put his hands under the table, so neither Terry nor Julie could see them, but Harry, Ron and Hermione could, and they — Mathery's hands — were trembling.
"That's not true."
Julie smirked. "Do you want to know what I think, Mr Mathery?" she said. "I think that you were telling us what we wanted to hear because you didn't want us to use Veritaserum on you or your henchmen. And you didn't expect Hermione Granger to have heard about that mission or to remember it. Who is behind all this? How did you break the protective enchantments around the house? Who told you that Hermione Granger was pregnant?"
Mathery stared at her, defiantly ... and afraid. "I won't tell you anything. Chuck me in Azkaban if you want!"
Julie insisted, "How did you break the enchantments?" while Terry got up and left the room.
"With a wand," answered Mathery with a sneer.
"This is not a game!" Julie yelled, at the same time the door to the room Harry, Ron and Hermione opened and Terry walked in.
"No, it is not," Mathery said. "You don't have the slightest idea."
Julie didn't answer, and instead started to write something on a parchment. Harry, Ron and Hermione turned their heads towards Terry.
"I want to use Veritaserum on him," stated Terry. "I can tell this bloke is terrified. He wanted to take all the blame."
"We saw it," said Harry. "And I agree. They are all locked together, aren't they?"
"Yeah," confirmed Terry.
"Gealt must have told him you threatened to use Veritaserum," Harry guessed, staring at Mathery. "That's why he's confessing."
"But, what — or whom — is he so scared of?" asked Hermione. "Even some of Voldemort's followers betrayed him!"
"Well, most of them believed he was finished," said Harry.
"Have they been checked for antidotes against Veritaserum?" asked Ron.
"Yes. All tests are negative."
"Do it, then," said Harry. "You don't have to ask us, you know; it's your case."
"I know; I just wanted your opinion. We'll proceed, then. I'll arrange everything."
Terry left, and ten minutes later, walked into the interrogation room once more. He muttered something into Julie's ear and sat down. Then he fixed his eyes on Mathery, rummaged into one of his pockets, extracted a tiny bottle full of a transparent liquid and put in on the table. Mathery looked at it and his eyes opened wide in fear.
"I told you everything!" he bellowed. "You can't do this!"
"You're hiding information," replied Terry, and then showed him an official parchment. "This authorises us to use Veritaserum on you."
Mathery tried to fight, but it was useless. The other Auror pointed at him with his wand and he became completely still. Then, Terry stood up, used his own wand to open his mouth and let three drops fall into it. He released him and sat back on his chair. Mathery tried to cough, but, almost instantly, his expression became vacant, as if he were in a trance.
"Who ordered you to attack Hermione Granger?" asked Julie immediately.
"My master," he said.
"Who is he?" asked Terry. "An old Death Eater?"
"I don't know his name."
"Tell us everything you know about him."
Mathery looked as though he wanted to resist, but a second later he was talking again. "He came to see me a year ago. He took me to a cave. He told us that it was time for the Wizarding world to be purged, for the filth to be disposed, and then ..."
"Then what?" pressed Julie.
"I don't remember."
"You don't remember? What do you mean?"
"We started following his orders. Suddenly, everything was clear, everything was obvious. But I don't remember what he told us. There is a ... gap there."
Terry and Julie exchanged glances, and Harry, Ron and Hermione did the same.
"Where did he come from?" asked Julie. "Describe him!"
"I don't know. He has a neutral accent. He is young, probably in his thirties; thin, but strong, tall. And powerful. He's so — he's so powerful ..."
"Hair? Eyes? Tell us."
"I've n-n-never seen his face."
"What?" Julie exclaimed. "You're following someone's orders and you don't even know who he is?"
"That didn't seem important. He knew things. He is right about what he says."
"Has he ordered you to do anything else before yesterday? Any more attacks?" asked Terry.
"No. He just called us yesterday and told us what we had to do."
"The enchantments," continued Terry. "How did you break them?"
"He told us how," confessed Mathery. "He told us everything: about the house, about the Mudblood, about her child."
"How did he know those things?"
"I don't know. He knows everything. He always knows," Mathery added, clearly afraid. "He'll know I talked. He'll know."
"Does he have more followers?" asked Julie.
"Yes, but I don't know t-them." Mathery looked now on the verge of tears. He was terribly afraid, that was evident, but Hermione couldn't find it in her to pity him. The way he had looked at her, with his hate-filled eyes, was burned in her mind. "He'll know," Mathery continued, now almost sobbing. "He'll know."
"He can't get to you while you're here, or in Azkaban," stated Terry.
Mathery looked at him with his fearful eyes. "You blood traitor idiot! You don't understand ANYTHING! Nothing will stop him! NOTHING!"
"If he's so powerful, why did he send you to perform that attack, then?"
"We don't question his orders!"
"The cloaked man that stopped you last evening," continued Terry, relentless. "Do you know anything about him?"
"No. He was covered from head to toe. I had never seen him."
"Where is your master?" demanded Julie. "Tell us."
Mathery was now sweating and completely pale. Hermione could tell that he was trying to resist with all his might.
"N-No. I — I won't t-tell!"
"Where — is — your — master!" insisted Julie, her eyes blazing with fury.
"We — w-we r-r-reunite in — in a hidden cave, in the Choire Mhoire cliffs, in Scotland," said Mathery finally. He was shaking as if he had been drenched in frozen water, and his eyes, unnaturally open, were bloodshot and full of fear.
"You're finished!" he yelled suddenly. "This is only the beginning! He knows everything! This time, no hero will save you! NO ONE! YOU'RE ALL DOOMED!" he finished with a terrible scream, and then dropped onto the table, unconscious.
An intense ending, I think.
Next chapter, On Sunday night (here in Spain). Have a good weekend.
