[A/N: Chapter 10 is really long (~18k words) so it's been split up into three chapters]

Chapter 10: Interrogations

[In which the repercussions of the second (or third) attack are felt, and life goes on (including plots).]

Friday, 11 December 1992 Hogwarts

When Justin and Nearly-Headless Nick were petrified, things suddenly became serious. It was one thing for students to be attacked by some unknown creature at the direction of an unknown assailant, but the very fact that it was even capable of harming a ghost, whatever it was, had everyone on edge.

For example, before that point, Mary was fairly certain that she hadn't been seriously considered a suspect by anyone who mattered, even given her parsel-speaking abilities and implied claim to Slytherin ancestry, because she was nowhere near the scene of the crimes on Halloween or after the first Quidditch match (and had the witnesses to prove it). She had been tried and condemned in the court of public opinion, but only the students had really believed it, and even then, it wasn't much worse than after she first outed herself as a parselmouth. It was certainly not as bad as the hazing before she had brought that particular talent to light.

Now, however, the authorities were clearly getting desperate for a scapegoat. Mary could think of no other explanation for the sequence of events that followed.

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Professor McGonagall, whose office was closest, was the first adult to arrive, just in time to see Ernie Macmillan point at Mary and exclaim dramatically, "Caught in the act!"

"That will do, Macmillan!" Professor McGonagall snapped at the white-faced Hufflepuff.

Peeves was still floating around the ceiling, watching the concerned chaos beneath him, and taunting Mary with his sing-song rhymes. "Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh, what have you done. You're killing off students, you think it's good fun."

"That's enough, Peeves!" He zoomed away from the irate Deputy Head, and she continued organizing the evacuation of the victims.

Mary glared at the retreating poltergeist and muttered to Lilian, "If it were me, I'd have done in Peeves first."

"Yes, well, if it were you, I expect you'd have done in all of Hufflepuff around Halloween," Lilian pointed out, rolling her eyes.

Mary smirked, Lilian's sarcasm overcoming her shock. "Clearly I'm working on it… one ungrateful little badger at a time."

"Miss Potter," the Professor said, as Macmillan fanned the blackened ghost toward the Hospital Wing, "Please accompany me to the Headmaster's office." The girls exchanged a look, and both began to follow the transfiguration professor. "Miss Moon, you may return to your common room," the older witch snapped.

"Umm… no offense, Professor McGonagall," Lilian said, offence clearly intended, by her tone if not her words, "but I'm not planning to let Liz out of my sight. She needs witnesses around, in case she gets jumped by Hufflepuffs on her way back or something." She grabbed Mary's hand and refused to let go.

Professor McGonagall looked very much like she wanted to roll her eyes at the Slytherins, and was only able to refrain through an act of extreme professionalism. "Let's go," she said. "The Headmaster will want to talk to you."

They followed along quietly, Mary resisting the urge to say something snarky to Lilian about how they couldn't possibly just be suspecting her now, and Lilian undoubtedly keeping her tongue over any number of equally sarcastic barbs. After a few minutes, they arrived in an out-of-the-way corridor, with a statue of a large and extremely ugly gargoyle.

"Lemon drop!" the Professor said, and the statue sprang aside as the wall split open to reveal a moving spiral staircase. The three visitors stepped onto it, and rode to the top, where they were met with an oak door and a brass, griffin-shaped knocker. The Professor knocked twice, and the door opened silently. She told the girls to wait, and disappeared back into the stairwell.

The Headmaster's office was a beautiful, circular room, full of funny little noises and curious silver instruments. Most of these sat on spindly little tables, whirring and giving off puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, snoozing gently in their frames. There was an enormous, claw-footed desk, and on a shelf behind it, along with several mouldering old books, was a shabby, tattered wizard's hat – the Sorting Hat.

Lilian immediately began inspecting the mysterious instruments nearest them, while Mary, after a moment's hesitation, approached the Hat. Surely it couldn't hurt to see if it had any insight on who the Heir of Slytherin might be? She cast a wary eye at the portraits and Lilian as she reached for it. The other girl gave her a wicked grin and nodded. She clearly thought it was a good idea.

The Hat was still far too large for Mary, and fell down over her eyes. She stared at the inside of it, waiting, until a small voice said, "Bee in your bonnet, Mary Potter?"

"Erm, yes," Mary muttered, "You could say that. Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to ask…"

"If I knew who the mysterious Heir of Slytherin is?"

"Well, yes."

"Ah, now, that it a mystery. I have met many of Slytherin's heirs in my time, but the last to claim that title passed through the school fifty years ago."

"Who was it?" Mary asked irritably.

"That I cannot say, child," the Hat replied fondly.

"Why not?"

"What's in your head stays in your head, dear. I can't be telling secrets, and it was a secret, when that child came to me. Others know, now, though. If you ask the right people, in the right way… well, you'll figure it out."

"Fine." She snatched the hat off her head. "Bloody useless bit of old leather! Probably still thinks I ought to have been a Hufflepuff!"

The rip near the seam opened, and the hat replied, loud enough for Lilian to hear, "I stand by that assessment. You would have been happier, there."

"Yes, and Gryffindor would be the easy route, for the destiny the whole thrice-cursed wizarding world thinks I ought to have. But –" Mary's tirade at the hat was cut off.

"Liz, stop arguing with the Hat and come look at this!" Lilian was standing next to a golden perch by the door, looking closely at a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked orange turkey. Its eyes were dull, and even as Mary turned to see it, a couple more feathers fell out, and the bird burst into flame.

"Shit! Lils, what did you do?"

Lilian laughed at her reaction. "Calm down, Liz, it's a phoenix. It's supposed to do that," she explained, just as the office door opened and Dumbledore strode in, looking very serious.

He took in the scene, then said, "Ah, I see Fawkes has had his burning day, finally," and smiled faintly.

"See," said Lilian, somewhat smugly.

Mary looked closer at the pile of ashes in the golden tray below the perch, to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out and look around, blinking sleepily. It was, she thought, quite as ugly as the old one.

Dumbledore seemed to know what she was thinking, as he said, "It's a shame you had to see him on a burning day. He's really very handsome most of the time. Wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry heavy immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets."

"And," Lilian added drily, "they are inherently light creatures, so their presence is uncomfortable for anyone who practices dark magic, and their song is physically painful to Black Mages."

The old man nodded, giving Lilian an evaluating look. Mary wondered why she had tipped her hand at Dumbledore like that. She normally wouldn't tell a professor that she knew more about a subject than they were willing to tell her. She said it made them underestimate her.

Before the conversation could continue, or Dumbledore could change the subject to why, exactly, they were in his office at all, when she couldn't possibly have been the person petrifying students, especially since even the Hat seemed to think the last Heir of Slytherin was now old enough to be a grandfather, the door of the office flew open with an almighty bang. Both Mary and Lilian startled. Hagrid, of all people burst in, a wild look in his eyes, balaclava perched on top of his head, and the dead rooster still in hand.

"It wasn' Mary, Professor Dumbledore!" the giant said urgently. "I was talkin' ter 'er seconds before that kid was found, she never had time, sir!" Dumbledore tried to interrupt, but Hagrid kept ranting on, waving the dead rooster around and sending feathers everywhere. "It can't've been 'er! I'll swear it in front o' the Ministry o' Magic if I have to –"

"Hagrid, I –"

"Yeh've got the wrong girl, sir, I know Mary never –"

"Hagrid! I do not think that Mary attacked those people!"

"Oh." The now-balding rooster fell limply to Hagrid's side, its feathers joining the phoenix's on the floor. "Right. I'll wait outside, then, Headmaster." And the man tromped out, looking embarrassed.

"If you don't think it was me, why am I here?" Mary asked, taking advantage of the sudden silence in the room.

Dumbledore gave the girls a considering look before saying, "I have a question for you. Miss Moon, you may feel free to answer as well, of course."

He paused, possibly only for effect, but Lilian was apparently irritated over having been dragged up here, or possibly over spending the past quarter of an hour thinking her best friend was going to be blamed for the attacks. "What is it?" Her tone was all innocence, but Mary recognized it as the one meaning, 'stop wasting my time, you bloody moron – if I could, I'd hex you where you stand.' It was normally reserved for Draco.

The Headmaster spread his hands in a gesture of openness, and sat behind the heavy desk as he asked, "Simply whether there is anything you would like to tell me, my dears. Anything at all." He addressed the question to Mary, and was trying to maintain eye-contact, but it was made difficult by the fact that there were two of them.

"Not particularly," Lilian said. She sounded a bit angry.

"No, sir," was Mary's response. She was only thinking how entirely odd this day had been. What on earth had the Headmaster expected her to say? Even if she was going to ask for help with a problem, it was hardly likely she would take it to him of all people.

"Very well, girls," the old man said, his eyes twinkling brightly at them. "I do urge you to come to me if you have any questions or information which may be useful in resolving the current crisis."

And with that, they were dismissed. They continued on toward Gryffindor tower, passing Hagrid at the base of the spiral stair (which reversed its direction to let them down).

"What was all that about, do you think?" Mary asked, as soon as they were alone.

"I don't know," Lilian said, her tone dark, "but I think he might have just tried to read our minds. What were you thinking about when he asked if there was anything we wanted to tell him?"

"Just how weird the whole thing was, and how I'd not tell him, even if I did know something. Nothing about anything we've been doing. Wizards can read minds?"

"Some. Mostly the really powerful ones, like the Headmaster and the Dark Lord. It's called Legilimency, and it's kind of not taught anymore, but he's older than dirt, so I wouldn't be surprised. Just don't meet his eyes, if you're trying to hide things from him, or try not to think of anything incriminating."

Mary shivered. It was a little scary to think that anyone could just dip into her mind like that. She didn't think the Headmaster was a particularly evil man, but she still didn't like him, and her thoughts were private.

"So what did the Hat say?" Lilian asked after a moment.

"Nothing new. Just that the last Heir came through fifty years ago, which I guess means none of the new students should be? Unless they didn't figure it out until after the sorting, maybe? I don't know. It also said that some people know, now, so we should be able to figure it out if we ask the right people the right questions, but it can't tell secrets."

"I guess that's good," Lilian said. "I mean, that it doesn't just go around telling everyone what's in everyone else's head."

Mary just nodded, hoping that the Hat's reluctance to speak applied to everyone, and not just the Heir of Slytherin. It had definitely gotten a good look around her head at the sorting, and she would bet it had just gotten a second one.

Saturday, 19 December 1992 Hogwarts

The school was decidedly more anxious after the latest attack, and yet life went on. The sign-up sheet to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays went around the same evening. This time, Mary was not alone amongst her friends in signing it. Although most of the school found reasons to go home, all of her fellow conspirators had already found reasons to stay.

Hermione told her parents that she wanted to experience a real Hogwarts Christmas, since she'd heard so much about it from Mary. She told Mary that she didn't want to risk going home and spilling the beans – after last summer, her parents would never let her come back, if they knew someone was trying to kill muggleborns in the school and she'd been hiding it from them.

Lilian told her parents that she'd rather stay with her friends, since she'd hardly seen them over the summer at all, and since Sean was going home with his boyfriend, Mr. and Mrs. Moon decided to take a vacation over the Holiday. Aerin didn't even have to come up with an excuse, as she was informed she could stay at Hogwarts, or at home with only the dogs and the house elves for company.

Fred and George simply owled their mother asking if their Great Aunt Muriel would be attending Christmas dinner, because they had come up with a special gift for her, and all of the Weasley children were invited the next morning to stay at Hogwarts over the holiday. It seemed none of the Weasleys had been stupid enough to tell their mother they were possibly in danger at school, because, as the twins put it, "What she doesn't know," "can't hurt us." "Right! Better petrified," "than dead!"

Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent also decided to stay, though no one knew why. (Aside from the fact that Vinnie and Greg always did whatever Draco did.) Theo and Blaise, as they had the year before, stayed as well. The older Slytherins looked at the second-years a bit sideways, as if they thought the cohort must be up to something, but no one said anything.

Mary was glad most people were leaving, even if she wouldn't have the same quiet break she had the year before. At least the Hufflepuffs were pretty much guaranteed to be gone, as well as most of the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, who had been downright hostile since the ghost petrification. They would mutter and point, growling and hissing as she passed, even worse than after the first attack.

Fred and George found this hilarious (as they did most things), and had taken it upon themselves to march ahead of Mary through the halls, announcing the presence of 'the Dark Lady of Slytherin.' Percy had told them off more than once. He wasn't pleased that his mother had decreed that he would have to spend the holidays at school with his brothers. Mary didn't really appreciate it either, but she was more than willing to let the twins have their fun if it meant they would help her when it came time to question everyone about their involvement. Their sister and Draco were even less amused. The latter presumably didn't want them soiling the dignity of the Heir with their antics, and the former just seemed horrified any time she saw them publicly questioning Mary about her next attack or announcing that everyone needed to clear the way, because she was late to tea with the Monster of Slytherin.

Professor Snape finally called the second-years into his office one at a time over the last week of the term. Mary didn't bother asking any of the others what he asked them – she imagined it was much the same, though according to the fourth-years, the upperclassmen had been interrogated more thoroughly. Mary's interview was mercifully short and entirely painless. Professor Snape informed her that he would be using "superficial" legilimency to determine the honesty of her answers. She was slightly disturbed at the idea that he would be reading her mind, but she supposed that would be a fool-proof way to determine whether anyone was the heir or not. And since none of the upperclassmen had raised a fuss about it, she decided it was probably okay. He stared deep into her eyes as he asked whether she was the heir of Slytherin (she wasn't sure, but she leaned toward no, given that the Sorting Hat said the last one came through about fifty years before); whether she had any information on the attacks (It might be a basilisk. That's what the Ravenclaws, think, anyway, and it would make sense, wouldn't it?); and whether she had any information on who was behind the attacks (no, if I did, I would already have told you. Everyone thinks it's me!).

When term finally ended, the Weasleys were the only Gryffindors left in the castle, and there were only two Ravenclaws other than Hermione and Aerin. All of the Hufflepuffs had gone, though that wasn't saying much, since all of them had gone the year before, as well. Professor Snape had informed the Slytherin prefects that the Heir was not anyone in their house, and they had spread the word. Most of the house claimed that they still felt safe enough, but about half of those who had planned on staying left, instead, at the last minute. There were now only half a dozen upperclassmen (and a single abandoned firtsie) in the Snake Pit, including Morgana, Perry, and Adrian, who were in on the Veritaserum Conspiracy.

It was an even greater relief to see off the carriages than it had been the previous year, if only because she would no longer have to put up with the hostility of her classmates. Among the Slytherins who remained, she was pleased to say that she knew them all, at least by sight if not personally, and neither of the unfamiliar Ravenclaws – a waifish blonde first-year and the fifth-year girls' prefect – had been among her most prominent tormentors over the past week. Ron Weasley was likely to be a prat, but that was a small price to pay to have the twins around, and as Draco was also staying behind, there was every chance that the boys would antagonize each other, rather than paying any attention at all to her.

Alexander and Marcus Young and Wendy Madden, all of whom had stayed the year before, were staying this year as well. Alex was a fifth-year, and Marcus and Wendy were in sixth. Marcus had officiated at Mabon, and Wendy had been one of the leaders on the non-Pure side of the "mudblood Slytherin" argument. They didn't share their reasons for staying. The first-year was a girl called Nora Blum, a German-born half-blood who had a habit of keeping to herself, even when most of the school wasn't gone. Aeronwyn Carpenter, who had been the mistress of ceremonies for the Yule ritual the year before, had designated Wendy as the organizer of this year's festivities before she left. She approached the underclassmen before the last thestral-drawn carriage vanished, reminding them that the ritual would be held in the main courtyard on Monday at Sunset.

That same day, after lunch, the Weasley twins dragged their co-conspirators out onto the grounds, ostensibly for the first snowball fight of the season, but really so that Hermione could announce that the Veritaserum was nearly done – it would take two more days to distill it, and then two weeks to reach full strength and create the antidote, but they could test it in the last week of break. If all went well, they would proceed with the plan to question the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs as soon as they returned from break. Then, of course, the boys absolutely buried the rest of the group with a stealthily levitated snowbank – it was still the Weasley twins, after all.

Saturday afternoon, for Mary and her friends, was spent in the library, where Mary filled Lilian, Aerin, and Hermione in on what she remembered of the Yule preparations from Theo's discussion of it the previous year and Hermione staged a mini-lecture on the Powers based on the book he had lent her. The twins appeared at one point to see what they were all up to, but left quickly when they realized that they were about to be dragged into one of Hermione's lectures. They had, they declared, suffered through too many since the beginning of their association with the second-year girls, and had no intentions of doing so over the holidays. Hermione watched them leave with an almost-Slytherin smirk, then changed the subject to Christmas gifts, and whether they should get anything for the boys and Morgana's crew.

Mary said yes, because she had already arranged for them to be owled a selection of sweets, while Lilian said no, because she would have to make said arrangements on short-notice. Aerin smacked her in the back of the head and told her not to be so self-centered, which rather decided the whole matter.

Later that evening, while Lilian muttered and grumbled her way through the owl-order catalogues in the Slytherin House Library, Mary caught up with Blaise and Theo. This largely consisted of lounging around the common room, writing holiday letters and laughing at Draco and his friends, who had taken over the seats normally held by Miss Carmichael's Court, much as Blaise, Theo, and Mary had the previous year. They had, eventually, decided that there was nothing special about that spot, though Draco clearly hadn't realized it yet.