Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I would make Hermione run for President.
"Sudden death hits you like a punch to the gut. Murder hits you like a knife in the back."
- Finicky Knealio, Coroner/Healer
"Did you bring what I asked you, Mal-ferret," Hermione asked while poring through the school registry. A disgruntled Malfoy gave her a book of the school awards records which she then handed to Ron.
"Malfoy," the Slytherin corrected. "And may I ask why you're looking up this Riddle fellow?"
"No you may not, now go sit in the corner and keep quiet." Knowing he had no other choice, Malfoy grudgingly obeyed.
"Look here," Harry interrupted, grabbing Hermione by the arm. He pointed to a picture of a handsome youth similar to the man they saw in Ogden's memory. "Brief description," he read. "An excellent student. One of the brightest Hogwarts ever seen. Enjoyed Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts...wow ironic. He was a Potions prodigy blah blah. Oh and a hopeful candidate for Minister of Magic! He's like a mini you, Hermione."
She swatted her friend's arm. "Please don't compare me to a psycho."
"You act pretty psychotic," Malfoy muttered.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," he lied. "Shutting up and going to the corner now."
"Good."
Ron spoke up, "Hey check this out. You- er Riddle was given ten awards. The top two are for Potions and Charms both Newt-level."
"Thank you captain obvious," Harry retorted. " But we already know that."
"Let me finish mate." Ron shot Harry a glare. "The professors who signed the awards are Flitwick and Slughorn."
"Ron you're brilliant," Hermione squealed. She snatched the awards records from his hands. "Actually, most of the professors that taught during his school years still teach us now! Let's talk to them after lunch."
"I am no longer needed right," Malfoy asked hopefully.
"You're staying on standby," Hermione chirped brightly.
Madam Pince sat nervously at the Great Table. The headache had subsided a day ago and she was beginning to feel somewhat like herself again. But why did she feel so uneasy?
"Pumpkin juice," Dumbledore offered kindly, snapping her out of her thoughts. "You look a little green. Sometimes what a person needs is a drink."
He's right. She gratefully poured herself a glass and took a sip. Sweet. But I wish we could drink something else during meals. It's been a while since I had a nice glass of fire whiskey. Madam Pince coughed. Her throat felt like something was lodged in there. The pulp hadn't been properly blended. Must have drunk too quickly again. A sharp pain constricted her chest. What the? Shakily, she tried to get up, call for help but she lost all her strength and collapsed.
The Great Hall was bustling with activity as students relayed the events of their day. The Gryffindor trio sat in silence tired from two nights of intense research. At this point in time, they were grateful for any break especially meals.
"Do you want to take the rest of the day off," Ron asked between mouthfuls of potato.
"Yes," Harry answered before Hermione could.
Cough. The trio looked to where the sound was coming from. What they saw was an ill looking Madam Pince who quickly downed her glass of pumpkin juice to calm her throat.
"Fine," Hermione said turning back to her friends. " We'll take today off, but we're going back to it tomorrow alright."
Cough. Cough. Madam Pince didn't seem to get over her choking. Now the entire Great Hall was looking toward the Great Table where the librarian was doubling over in a fit.
"What's going on," called out one student.
"Do not be alarmed," Dumbledore reassured. " We'll be taking Madam Pince to the hospital wing. Enjoy your-"
Crash. Madam Pince tried to stand but fell face flat onto the ground sending the goblet in her hand flying. Dumbledore's expression grew grave.
He ordered, " Take her to the Hospital Wing."
"Now," the old man yelled once he saw the professors hesitate getting up. Professor Flitwick leapt to his feet and levitated the unconscious librarian and rushed out of the Great Hall.
"Everyone, please have a seat," requested the Headmaster. "I'm sure Madam Pince will be alright." Once he was sure he had calmed down the crowd, he quickly left the Great Hall also and the student burst into chatter.
"Bloody hell," Ron breathed which summed up everyone's reaction.
Could it have been? Harry looked at Malfoy, but the boy seemed just as confused as everyone else. Not him then.
"Maybe it was a heart attack," Neville suggested. "My gram's brother had one a couple years back. Happens all the time."
"No I don't think it was a heart attack," Hermione responded looking right at the spot where the Headmaster was sitting. Harry followed her line of sight and rolled his eyes.
"Of course ," he muttered. Of course she would think he had something to do with it.
Ignoring him, Hermione kept her eyes glued to the Great table. Dumbledore usually sat next to Professor Mcgonagall. Today he just happens to change seats and now Madam Pince is gravely ill. His actions are just so obvious, but no one would ever suspect the previous Savior. She made up her mind.
"Let's give Madam Pince a visit after lunch," Hermione declared.
The doors for the Hospital wing were closed. Hermione knocked on the doors and turned to her friends.
"Ok, remember, act like you're in pain," she ordered
"I am in pain," yelled a limping Ron. "You fractured my shin bone."
"Which you agreed to," Hermione reminded. "Toughen up. It's not like Harry broke it."
"Cheer up mate," Harry comforted cheerfully. "You don't know real pain until you've lost all the bones in your right arm."
"Then why didn't you volunteer?"
"I'm not an idiot. Who volunteers to fracture themselves."
"Shut up," Hermione hissed as the doors began to open.
"Y-yes, what is it," called out a sobbing Madam Pomphrey. The woman looked awful. Her eyes were bloodshot and tear tracks were visible on her wrinkled face.
"What on earth," Hermione babbled alarmed. "What happened?"
"I-it's Madam Pince." The woman broke down into another wave of tears.
Hermione pushed past the nurse and barged into the hospital wing. The librarian lay on the first bed with her entire body covered except for her left arm which limply hanged off the bed. It was a sickly shade of grey.
The Gryffindor threw the covers off Madam Pince and covered her mouth in shock. Her eyes had rolled to the back of her head. Hermione picked up the librarian's hand and checked for a pulse. There was none.
"She's dead," she cried out in disbelief.
"I tried so hard," the nurse repeated softly while dabbing her eyes with a napkin. She had quickly made Ron sit on one of the available beds and given him some skele-grow. Hermione was flipping through some of the files on the nurse's desk.
"Do you know why she died," Harry asked kindly.
"No," she answered. "There's still many tests I need to do- dear please don't touch that," she said to Hermione who was looking through one of the files.
"It says here that there was no trace of poison in her system," Hermione stated ignoring her orders.
"That's why I'm so baffled," responded Madam Pomfrey. "All of her organs just shut down without warning."
Harry queried, " How is that possible?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. It's like her own body went against her and killed itself." Madam Pomfrey sat up taller now that she came down a bit, almost back to her clinical self. "I have seen these symptoms before as there are some known potions that can cause this phenomenon. In fact I suspect that the fi-" She stopped mid way.
"You suspect what," Hermione urged.
"You have to go," the nurse demanded.
"But-"
Madam Pomfrey began to push Harry and Hermione out the room. "Don't worry about your friend I'll have him patched up and sent your way too." Once she successfully got them out of the hospital wing she slammed the door.
"What did I tell you," shouted Snape. The aura of nonchalance his boss had was beginning piss him off. "Show some more reaction old man."
"You were right, Severus," Dumbledore admitted tiredly. "What more do you want me to say?"
"A person, a human being, is dead because of us."
"Surely this isn't the first person you've killed," Dumbledore countered bluntly. He watched with satisfaction as the other man seemed to shrink with guilt. The trick to handling the Death Eater spy was to remind him of his crimes. It was terrible, yes, but was necessary. The old stick and the carrot routine. That was the stick, now came the carrot.
"Severus, it's not your fault," Dumbledore assured kindly. "You're right it's mine. I make mistakes just like any other man, but we need can't stop now. Everything-no everyone depend on the plan. So, no other person will end up like Lily." Snape's head snapped up at the name. Dumbledore inwardly smiled. Oh, so predictable. " Please continue looked after little Harry. You're doing a great job."
"She overdosed on the fidelity potion," Snape reiterated. "Her own body committed suicide because she betrayed you. I should have never agreed to do it. I'm no different than the Death eater I used to be."
Very good. Dumbledore celebrated. He's blaming himself. Now he should be as malleable as clay. "No Severus, you are different. You showed remorse. And what we're doing right now is so much bigger than us."
"It's for the Greater Good," Snape whispered.
"That's right," Dumbledore proudly agreed. "Someday the world will thank us. Now go have some rest, Severus. You need it." Snape left silently.
Dumbledore relaxed back into his armchair. "Don't look at me like that, Fawkes. You're job is to observe not judge." He popped a lemon drop into his mouth.
Fawkes trilled loudly and if Dumbledore didn't know better he could have sworn the phoenix was laughing at him.
The three decided it would be Hermione who stayed back and asked professor Flitwick about Riddle. The witch waited until everyone else left and made her way towards the professor.
"Um, professor," she called out sheepishly making sure to look shy and bashful.
"What do you need," Flitwick asked warmly. He took a seat and gestured for her to do the same.
Hermione sat. "We're doing this project in History where we research on a previous Hogwarts graduate. Professor Binns assigned our group with a man named Tom Riddle." She looked at the man for some form of recognition.
Flitwick looked almost excited. "Oh yes! Tom Riddle. He was such a bright student. Good at every subject he learned. It was a pleasure teaching him. So polite."
Not what I would expect anyone to say about a Dark Lord. "Do you know anything about what he might have done after he graduated, like a job?"
"You mean you don't know," Flitwick asked befuddled. "Didn't you get the chance to research?"
"Well." Hermione lowered her voice to a mock whisper. "I was put in a group with Malfoy and I really want to get this project over with."
The Charms professor nodded his head understandingly. "I see , I see. The boy can be quite difficult. You see, after Tom graduated, all of us professors followed his life closely. We were sure we were looking at the next Minister of magic! Instead he chose to work at a store. A place called Borgin and Burke's. We were all disappointed when we found out."
Hermione made a mental note. Borgin and Burke's. "And then what did he do," she asked eagerly.
"That's the thing. No one know. He disappeared."
Until a new librarian enter Hogwarts, no material is allowed to be taken out of the facility.
Those words were on the new sign that was posted on the doors of the library. When Hermione left to check on their source of information she was welcomed by the sight of the Archive doors once open now padlocked and covered in chains. She bit back a curse.
"So basically you found out nothing," Malfoy said bluntly.
"Except that even the professors think you're a prick," Ron retorted. Hermione cast a barrier between the two boys before things quickly got out of hand.
"We found out Riddle worked at that dark objects store," Harry offered optimistically. "That's a plus."
"Well besides all that rot," Malfoy interrupted. "What I take from this is that now that the Archives are closed, I am no longer needed." When no-one responded, he clapped his hands and turned to leave. "Right then, let's never talk again."
"If you leave the chamber right now, I will reveal you Dumbledore," Hermione threatened.
"But you said you wouldn't," Malfoy countered fearfully.
"I want you right where I can supervise you. So unfortunately we still have to talk," she snapped.
"Sorry mate," Harry said unapologetically. "But, leaving a Death Eater to his own devices is not a part of the plan. There are people after my life you know."
"But I'm not after yours," Malfoy pleaded almost desperately. "I've gotten nowhere with the assassination and if I fail you all know what will happen."
"Well sucks to be-," Ron began.
Hermione interjected, "We're not going to interfere with that. I highly doubt you would be able to kill Dumbledore anyway. If Harry could see through you…" She ignored her friend's, "Hey." "Then so can the most powerful man alive."
Malfoy kept silent, the weight of his job becoming apparent to him.
The witch asked, "What was your plan anyway?"
"None of your business," he growled.
Hermione shrugged. "Fine. Now we need to plan our next moves. Christmas break is approaching and I think we all know that we're not spending another minute in this castle if we can help it."
"Wait, you're not going to make me tell you my plans, " inquired Malfoy.
"No," Hermione answered. "The less we know the better. It gives the Ministry and perhaps the Order less chance of placing the blame on Harry and us again if anything happens. We don't want a repeat of fifth year" Harry winced.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "That's quite sneaky for a Gryffindor." Ron looked at her disapprovingly.
"Yes, Malfoy, it's called having more than one personality trait," Hermione retorted. She muttered, "Why we let a singing, talking hat decide our paths in life is beyond me."
"Enough," Harry demanded. If they kept fighting, nothing would get done. "Let's get back to planning." He added, " please." Thankful he had everyone's attention, the Boy-Who-Lived began," Well my biggest concern is that I never knew anything about my parents' wills or family businesses or who my guardian is. Where can I find all that stuff out?"
"Gringotts," Malfoy answered automatically. "Just give them proof of your heritage and everything would take care of itself. They would have to serve you considering that you come from a very important family, though you're a half blood." He wrinkled his nose.
"And what type of stuff would an heir to an important family expect," Harry continued.
This time it was Ron who replied, "Typical stuff like businesses and money and the like but, since you come from one of the pureblood 28, you can expect a lordship as well as a seat in the Wizengamot."
"I can expect what," Harry shouted.
"Ron, how do you know about all of this," Hermione asked.
"It's everything a member of a pureblood family learns about," Ron replied.
Malfoy added, "It's true."
Harry yelled, "Why didn't you tell me about any of this." He wanted to strangle the red head.
Ron looked guilty. "Sorry mate, I thought you knew."
"Well I didn't," Harry snapped. "I don't know about anything." It's so frustrating. Why did no one tell him anything?
"Ron, please take Malfoy back to his common room," Hermione requested gently. She needed to calm Harry down.
"So, Weasley, how does it feel to be the most useless member in this messed up group," Malfoy asked maliciously as they left the Chamber.
The Gryffindor boy said nothing.
"Granger's smart, Potter's a bloody icon," Malfoy continued."Even I'm useful as their gopher and I'm your enemy. What do you have to offer?"
"Just shut up," Ron weakly countered.
Malfoy clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Just giving you something for you to think about." He entered the Slytherin common room satisfied he made Weasley feel as miserable about the situation as he was.
He's right, Ron realized as he trudged back to the Chamber. I'm not useful at all. He thought back to the other adventures the Gryffindor trio had. Even then, it was all Harry and Hermione doing everything. All I'm good at is chess. Ron remembered his actions during fourth year where he forsaked Harry because the goblet chose him. Not even a good friend.
Wait… The gears in his head began to turn. If this could work- not it had to work. He formulated a plan. It would have to be executed during the Christmas break, just before New Year's day. The problem was convincing her without letting her think he was following Percy's footsteps. No matter, Ron could be persuasive when he needed to be. No longer would he sit back while his friends struggled by themselves. Think of it like another chess game, the red head convinced himself. He walked with more purpose. Ron did have something to offer. He had blood.
Two weeks passed like a flash and finally Christmas break arrived. The library was still closed and Hermione doubted it would ever be opened again. Dumbledore had pulled Harry aside more than once to convince him to remain at Hogwarts but, once caught wind that the Headmaster was going to keep her from her goal of fattening the boy up, she sent multiple Howlers. Sure enough, the Headmaster backed off.
"What's the plan," Ron whispered once they got a compartment for themselves in the train.
"I'm going to Borgin and Burkes," Hermione answered. "Who better to ask about Riddle than his own employer?" She saw her friends' worried expressions. "Don't worry I can handle myself."
"And you," Ron asked Harry.
"Gringotts," the boy hero responded. "I'm getting my life back into my own hands."
Good, I'll be alone. Ron nodded and they passed the rest of the ride in silence.
gave them the biggest hug when she picked them up from the station and took them to the Burrow. The rest of the day was filled with her trying to give them as much food as possible. "Do they even feed you at that school," she clucked. With warm food in their stomachs and the thought of the mission in their minds, the three collapsed in their rooms and slept.
"Thanks for the food," Harry thanked between bites of bacon during breakfast the next day.
"No problem dearie," answered warmly.
"Mum," Ron interrupted. "We were wondering if you'd let us visit Fred and George's shop today."
"Sure," agreed brightly. "They're thinking of expanding you know. Oh those boys." She gushed. "Go clean up," she urged. "You can leave once you do."
"We'll separate once we get to Diagon Alley," Hermione instructed as she washed her hands.
"You both go without me," Ron said.
"What why," Harry asked.
"I have something to do," Ron replied vaguely. "I'll meet up with you later." Hermione stared at him as if trying to figure out his real motives.
Harry looked like he was about to argue.
"Fine," Hermione relented. "Make sure you both keep your notebooks with you at all time."
"Need help, mum," Ron asked who was still cleaning up the dishes from breakfast. He grabbed the nearest washcloth.
She beamed, "Thank you. Just do those dishes over there." Ron obeyed and they both cleaned without saying a word to each other.
Finally, broke the silence. "What do you want Ron?"
He answered her question with another question. "What make you think I want something?"
"Oh come on, Ron," she laughed. "I gave birth to you. You're being nice for no reason. That means you want something" Ron flushed. "What is it?"
Ron took a minute to gather his courage. He looked at his mother dead in the eye. "Mum, give me the Prewett title."
Hermione covered her face with a hood as she entered Knockturn Alley. She and Harry had separated as soon as they entered Diagon Alley. They chose to come as soon as the shops opened up so not many people would be around to recognize the Boy-Who-Lived. She passed a couple old witches that slouched on the dirty floor. Threatening looking wizards and witches gazed at her from some of the shops.
"You sure you didn't make a wrong turn, wench," one jeered as she walked by. Hermione felt relieved once she saw the dark, shadowy sign: Borgin and Burke's.
"Hello," she called out nervously as she entered. Hermione expected the store to be dark, but no lights were turned on. She was sure that the store should've been open by now. "Mr. Burke?" Her boots squished as she stepped on a puddle of water. There must be a leak somewhere.
No one responded to her calls. Looking around, the witch saw that the store appeared to be empty. Several dark artifacts were still in their cases. She recognized a copy of the necklace Harry described that Malfoy wanted to buy. A mysterious cabinet sat at the corner of the store but Hermione was careful not to touch it. Anything could set off a curse. She felt the wall for a switch and turned on the lights.
She screamed. What she stepped on wasn't water.
Harry never enjoyed visiting Gringotts. The goblins were rude and every one of them were like mini copies of Snape. Snarky little pricks. Unfortunately, if Harry wanted answers, he would have to interact with them. On the bright side, Harry was sure they would enjoy this meeting just as much as he would.
"Hello," he greeted one goblin teller. The goblin grunted in response. This was starting to seem like it was going to be a fun conversation. "I was wondering if I could see the manager of my vault."
"Key," growled the goblin.
Harry chuckled nervously. "You see that's the thing. I don't have my key." The goblin glowered at him. "Is there another way to verify my identity?"
"Slice your finger with a knife and drop some blood on this parchment," the goblin ordered handing him a nasty blade.
"Thank you Mr…"
"Grimjaw."
Harry cut his finger and winced at the sharp pain. The parchment glowed white before the words, Potter-Black, appeared.
"Everything appears to be in order," Grimjaw approved. He hopped off his teller box. "This way Mr. Potter."
Harry followed the goblin to one of the back rooms. Grimjaw motioned him to stop and knocked on a normal looking office door. He yelled something in gobbledygook and after a moment turned back to the overwhelmed boy. "You may enter."
The boy obeyed and entered. Everything strangely looked like a normal muggle bank office down to the uncomfortable chairs. The only difference Harry could really see was that a goblin was sitting behind the desk.
"Please have a seat," this goblin said.
Harry complied. He held out his hand for the goblin to shake. "Thank you for meeting me. My name is Harry Potter. And yours?"
The goblin lifted one eyebrow at the held out hand and declined to shake. "Runeclaw. Why did you come Mr. Potter?"
"I wanted to review the state of my inheritance," he answered. "Actually, I just want to know what I inherited first and foremost."
Runeclaw took out a stack of parchment and scanned it. "You are currently the heir for both the Potter and Black families." He stopped once he saw the look on the boy's face. "Is this surprising to you?"
"Yes," Harry breathed. He hadn't realized that he would be Sirius's heir. Dumbledore did say he left me everything back at the Dursley's. At least he was truthful about that. Harry clenched his fists.
Hermione breathed heavily trying to calm her speeding heart. A large puddle of blood was right in front of her and no doubt on the bottom of her boot. A few tracks of blood led to the back of the counter which gave the impression someone or something was dragged there. Hermione took a cautious step forward and made her way to the counter. She had a feeling that she didn't wanted to see what lay behind it. The outline of a shoe appeared. Her worst fears were confirmed. Oh, Merlin. There lay the broken, mutilated form of .
He didn't look like he had been dead for long. There wasn't the rancid smell of decomposing flesh yet. She knelt down and touched her finger to one side of his face. Still warm. She gasped. Which means. Hermione quickly dove to the side as a beam of green light shot towards where she had been kneeling. The glass case shattered and all sorts of dark objects fell to the ground. The murderer is still here.
Once again the witch cursed the ministry for not allowing under age magic. A few more beams of light shot towards her and Hermione barely dodged them. She took the chance to lay one of the tables on its side and hide behind it. Several spells hit the back of the table, one going through and grazing her ear. Hermione cried out in pain. She began to hyperventilate. He's going to kill me! She silently screamed in horror as she heard her attacker stop shooting spells and walk agonizingly slowly towards where she hid. Think Hermione, think she willed herself. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the fallen form of the cursed necklace she saw earlier. Wasting no time, she grabbed a nearby broken chair leg and rushed towards the necklace, dodging yet another curse. In one unbelievably fluid motion, Hermione lifted the necklace with the chair leg and flung it at her attacker who grabbed it.
For the first time, she met face to face with the murderer. Hermione didn't recognize the hooded man. The moment he grabbed the cursed necklace, he shrieked in agony as the necklace lifted him into the air. He dropped his wand, which Hermione grabbed and broke over her knee. She took a step back and sank to the ground. The man screamed in pain. A terrible, eerie sound. Hermione covered her ears. Finally after five minutes, the man gave one more strangled shriek and crashed into the floor, still as the man he murdered.
Knowing how bad it would be to be caught with two bodies, Hermione turned and ran.
"Well continuing on," Runeclaw dismissed. "Your trust vault is valued around 100,000 galleons." The number blew Harry's mind away. "The main Potter vaults should be over 5 million galleons. The Black vaults should be around that amount as well."
Harry sputtered. "What about my businesses."
"Ah yes." Runeclaw flipped through more parchment. "Potters CO. mainly manufacture high-grade cauldrons and other potions equipment. They also import potions ingredients on the side. They are also credited to have patented most of the equipment Healers use in the hospitals so you are considerably wealthy."
Harry nodded dumbly. "Who was in charge of looking over my finances?"
"That would be your guardian, Mr. Dumbledore."
"May I see a report on what he might have withdrawn from my vaults over the years?"
Runeclaw handed him a parchment and Harry skimmed it over.
"What," Harry cried. "Nothing was withdrawn?"
"Yes. No money was withdrawn." Runeclaw looked amused. "You thought the man was stealing from you. is rich. He has no need of your money."
"But," Harry stammered. It didn't make sense. If Dumbledore wasn't keeping him ignorant of his fortune to steal his money, then why all the secrecy? Wait, something was withdrawn. "What is parcel 3324," he asked the goblin.
"Parcel 3324 is a book, ," Runeclaw replied.
"I thought you said nothing was withdrawn," Harry accused.
Runeclaw narrowed his eyes. "I said no money was withdrawn," he gritted out.
"What is the book called?"
"I don't know," Runeclaw replied. "When the Potters deposited the book fifty years ago, they didn't allow us goblins to know the title."
Harry decided to let it go for now. "May I look at my inheritance now?"
"Certainly," Runeclaw responded. "But, your visit today did surprise us . We expected you to come a few months ago."
"Why?"
"It was agreed that on your fifteenth birthday, you would be told of your parents' wills." Runeclaw pulled out an envelope. "Here it is. Would you like a lawyer here?"
"No," Harry gulped. "Just read it out."
Runeclaw began. "The last will and testament of Lily and James Potter as witnessed by Albus Dumbledore, Amelia Bones, and Emmeline Vance."
Harry's eyes widened. Amelia Bones and Emmeline Vance? I need to tell Hermione.
A/N: Tada! Act One is finished. Who killed ? Why did Dumbledore only steal a book from Harry? What is Ron planning? Well only I know the answer to that! XD .Review please if you have any predictions.