A Study in Magic: The Application
by Books of Change
Warning/Notes: This is the sequel to A Study in Magic, which is a BBC Sherlock and Harry Potter crossover AU posted here. The HP timeline and BBC Sherlock's timeline was shifted forwards and backward to match up. One major BBC Sherlock character's gender was changed for the sake of the plot. Readers beware!
Chapter Ten: Mr. Lestrade's Most Productive Day
The Saturday evening Harry had his first private lesson with Albus Dumbledore, Detective Chief Inspector Lestrade found himself pacing inside 221B. John and Sherlock were also waiting. Then at around eleven at night, finally:
"He updated!"
Lestrade stopped his pacing. John scooted closer to Sherlock, and Lestrade looked over his shoulder to read what Harry had posted on the secure wiki.
Disclaimer: Unless stated otherwise, the source of information is Albus_Dumbledore's memory
T minus 89 years: Mrs. Riddle sells Slytherin's locket to Caractacus Burke for 10 Galleons. (HarryWatson: Caractacus Burke is a greedy, lying bastard!)
Mrs. Riddle gives birth in Muggle orphanage and dies within an hour. She names son Tom after his father, and Marvolo after her father. (Source: Mrs. Cole, the orphanage matron.)
T minus 78 years: Dumbledore visits LV's orphanage and delivers his Hogwarts letter. Tom Marvolo Riddle (TMR) already has high control of magic and is aware he can talk to snakes (discovered during a country trip?). TMR thinks his father must be a wizard because his mother died.
Early signs of psychopathy as observed by Mrs. Cole and Professor Albus_Dumbledore:
· Billy Stubbs's rabbit found hanging on the rafters after he had argument with TMR
· Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop never quite right after TMR took them to explore seaside cave
· TMR quote: "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."
T minus 78 years – T minus 74 years: TMR enters Hogwarts, and is sorted into Slytherin House. He charms all teachers (minus Albus_Dumbledore) and gathers followers/groupies. According to surviving witnesses, TMR was obsessed with his parentage. Around age 15, TMR concludes Riddle Sr. is not a wizard, therefore Mrs. Riddle must be a witch. TMR traces Mrs. Riddle to Slytherin's last surviving line, the Gaunts.
T minus 73 years: TMR opens chamber of secrets and kills Moaning Myrtle with Basilisk. He also starts referring to himself as 'Lord Voldemort'. He visits the Gaunts' house and encounters Morfin Gaunt. His father Marvolo Gaunt dead at this point. TMR murders Tom Riddle Sr., and Grandma and Grandpa Riddle and Confunds Morfin to think he'd killed them. Morfin confesses to the murders and is sentenced to life in Azkaban. (HarryWatson: need confirmation.)
Albus_Dumbledore: "He [Morfin] handed over his wand, which was proved at once to have been used to kill the Riddles. And he permitted himself to be led off to Azkaban without a fight. All that disturbed him was the fact that his father's ring had disappeared. 'He'll kill me for losing it,' he told his captors over and over again. 'He'll kill me for losing his ring.' And that, apparently, was all he ever said again. He lived out the remainder of his life in Azkaban, lamenting the loss of Marvolo's last heirloom, and is buried beside the prison, alongside the other poor souls who have expired within its walls."
HarryWatson: LV likely stole the ring and later turned it into a Horcrux. Dumbledore and Mr. Shin found the ring in Gaunt's shack last year while investigating the Riddle Manor & its surroundings.
T minus 72 years – T minus 70 years: TMR interviews Hogwarts ghosts. (HarryWatson: still tracing all the ghosts TMR interviewed.)
T minus 70 years: TMR leaves Hogwarts and starts working at Borgin and Burkes. He was very skilled in finding valuable artefacts and persuading people to part with them. (!)
T minus 68 years: TMR leaves Borgin and Burkes on short notice and little warning. His last client Hepzibah Smith was a wealthy and renowned collector of antiques. She died two days after TMR's last visit when she drank the poisoned cocoa her house-elf Hokey made. Department of Magical Law Enforcement concluded Hokey, being elderly and feeble-minded, mistook a rare poison for sugar, and killed her master by accident. (HarryWatson: need confirmation; timing suspicious; did the DMLE seriously think HS collected poisons, too, and left them around her kitchen?!). Smith's family, after going through Hepzibah Smith's vast private collection, reported two of Hepzibah's most valuable items were missing: Helga Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's Locket. (!)
T minus 60 years: TMR returns to Hogwarts and applies to post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Dumbledore rejects his application, citing his Pureblood-Supremacy terrorism acts. TMR left in fury. Since then, no one lasted for more than a year in DADA position until Professor Remus Lupin. Professor Lupin has lasted three years and counting.
The following is a photograph of TMR, as Albus_Dumbledore remembers him at that point in time:
[Enclosed Picture of TMR]
"Finally, some relevant data," Sherlock muttered. He clinked a linked labelled Voldemort and his Horcruxes. The linked page contained the following information:
1) LV (main)
2) TMR's diary; status: destroyed; how: basilisk's venom
3) Gaunt's ring; status: destroyed; how: Sword of Gryffindor
4) Cup of Hufflepuff; status: destroyed; how: Sword of Gryffindor
5) Nagini; status: suspected as Horcrux; location: by LV's side
6) Slytherin's Locket; status: suspected as Horcrux; location: unknown
7) Unknown, still under investigation (HarryWatson: a Ravenclaw relic, maybe?)
"So there we have it," said Sherlock with an air of satisfaction. "Three identified soul jars, two potential soul jars, and one unknown. That brings the total to seven."
"We haven't confirmed the locket is a soul jar yet," Lestrade felt compelled to point out.
"But on balance of probability, it is," Sherlock argued. "At any rate, it being a powerful magical relic, we need to keep it away from LV in case he decides to turn into a soul jar."
"Sure," Lestrade granted. "I'll look up Morfin Gaunt the next time I visit Magical Law Enforcement."
"Do. Oh, and when you go to your evening classes, see what kind of training your father-in-law cooked up."
-oo00oo-
Lestrade commuted to the Ministry of Magic bright and early the next day. Though a weekend, he found plenty of Ministry employees scurrying around. He found Nymphadora Tonks in the Auror headquarters, so he asked her where he could find the old criminal case archives. Tonks led him to a nondescript door deep inside the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and wished him luck.
It turned out police, Muggle and Magic, archived their old files the same way: on shelves groaning under the weight of disorganized stacks of yellow pages, all littered with illegible handwriting. Good luck finding anything, bruv.
Thank God for summoning charms. Lestrade was now an expert at using them to retrieve printed information. Before long, Lestrade was sitting behind a wooden desk surrounded by towering bookshelves and reading the rolls of parchment he summoned under dim candle light.
Morfin Gaunt's parchment listed three convictions. The latest: murdering three Muggles with magic. The DMLE confiscated MG's wand and confirmed the last spell it performed was the Killing Curse (Avada Kedavra). MG confessed to committing the crimes with pride. Convicted of premeditated murder and the use of [an] Unforgivable curse, MG was sentenced to life in prison. Presumably, with no possibility of parole, Lestrade thought, as he noted the murder victims weren't named.
Further down the parchment, Lestrade read Morfin's two other convictions. One: for using magic in the presence of a Muggle and harassing said Muggle. Two: for resisting arrest and helping his father, Marvolo Gaunt, when he manually choked his sister, Merope Gaunt.
Now he knew Voldemort's mother's name. What was she like? Lestrade wondered as he studied the enclosed mugshot of Morfin Gaunt. Though a wizard photo, the subject didn't move much, and most of his face was covered in thick, matted hair. Undeterred, Lestrade continued to stare, and at last photo Morfin pushed his hair out of his dirty face and snarled. Morfin had several teeth missing, and his eyes were small and dark and stared in opposite directions.
'I hope he looks like his papa.' That was Merope Gaunt's dying wish for her son. If Merope looked anything like her brother Morfin, she had a good reason to wish it. Lestrade might have wondered how she managed to snag a man like Tom Riddle Sr. in the past, but now he was fully aware of the arsenal of mind-f**kery Wizards and Witches had at their disposal. A love potion perhaps? Whatever it was, the magic must have worn off, because Tom Riddle Sr. abandoned Merope and returned to his parents.
Lestrade couldn't fault Riddle Sr. for fleeing, but he could sympathise with Merope, too. Women who grew up with men like Morfin and Marvolo rarely had easy lives, and were often desperate to escape. Many didn't, and even those who did leave faced equal or greater difficulty afterward. Their upbringing often left them so ill-equipped, they ended up turning to men very much like their abusers for help.
Lestrade set Morfin Gaunt's case parchment aside. Then he picked up Hepzibah Smith's. The contents, when he discarded the writer's warbling on Ms. Smith's status in the wizarding world, matched that of Harry's summary except for two things: it didn't state Hepzibah's house-elf's name, and made a passing comment that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures carried out Hokey's sentence.
Lestrade frowned at this. Why was Hokey treated like an animal? How did Dumbledore learn the elf's name? Did he interview the Smiths and learn it from them? If he did, how did he know to ask them? Was it from his interview with Caractacus Burke? How did he persuade Burke to talk to him?
Can't find the answers here, Lestrade thought.
He banished the parchments he summoned from whence they came. Then he checked his phone. He still had a few hours to burn before his magic classes started. Enough time for a short stop at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures before he headed to Hogwarts and asked his father-in-law about his plans (of torture) for Harry Watson.
Speaking of Harry, Lestrade had to hand it to Sherlock, he trained the kid well. Harry's summary report was succinct and full of relevant information. Also, cheeky personal notes aside, he knew the difference between facts and perceptions, and had the trust but verify down to pat. Lestrade knew plenty of constables, detective sergeants and DMLE patrol members who had fewer skills and less sense. Really, if Harry applied to work for the Force, Lestrade would've hired him on the spot.
Now there's an idea Sherlock might murder me for, Lestrade mused. What if he recruited Harry to his special Muggle-Magic Criminal Investigation unit after he left school? Was he wedded to the idea of following Sherlock's footsteps? What was the education requirements for joining the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? How did the Ministry train their Aurors, anyway?
Need to talk to Tonks, Lestrade decided.
-oo00oo-
Tonks raised her bubble-gum pink eyebrows when Lestrade asked her about Auror versus regular Magical Law Enforcement Patrol requirements. Nevertheless, she answered:
"Auror, you need a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s, and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations' grade, to apply. The requirements aren't as high for Magical Law Enforcement Patrol. Just three N.E.W.T.s, I think. You can transfer, but if you didn't make the Auror program straight out of Hogwarts, it's rare to get accepted. Our old head, Scrimgeour, insisted on taking only the best."
"What's the failure rate?" Lestrade asked.
"Mm, well, we haven't taken anyone new for the last three years, though the same number of people applied," Tonks hedged.
Lestrade whistled. "That tough, eh? How long is the training?"
"Three years. You get assigned to an active or retired Auror and learn from him or her. Then you have to pass the qualification tests." Tonks looked at Lestrade keenly. "You're interested in applying?"
"Nah, I'm happy where I am," Lestrade said. "But I know someone I want in my team a few years down the road."
"It's Potter, isn't it? Moody told me he's good."
"He's got the knack. Not sure if he needs to be an Auror to join, but I'm calling dibs either way. Not a lot of people can handle both magic and non-magic crimes, you know."
"True enough," said Tonks. Then she grinned. "Are you free this evening? Shacklebolt and several others of us are going to the Leaky Cauldron, get some drinks."
"Sorry, I've got classes."
Tonks's grin turned mischievous. "Good luck with that."
Lestrade flipped her off and bid her farewell. He then detoured to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and asked for the house-elf liaison. Within minutes, he found himself ushered into the office of Amos Diggory, head of the whole department.
"How may I help you, Mr. Lestrange?" asked Diggory.
Lestrade told himself to NOT jump down Diggory's throat. "It's Lestrade. I was wondering what happens if an house-elf breaks the law."
"Has your house-elf committed a crime?" Diggory asked sharply.
"Oh, no. Treble's fine, she did nothing wrong," Lestrade raised his palms. "I'm new to this, okay? And I'm in law enforcement, so I'm always thinking about creative law-breaking. Occupational Hazard, you know."
Diggory's expression relaxed. "So your questions are theoretical."
"All theoretical," Lestrade reassured. "But scary to contemplate. I mean, house-elves must obey their masters, yeah? What happens if their master orders them to rob a bank or kill someone?"
"That's a very good question," said Diggory. "House-elves are classified as Beings, per Gorgon Stump's 1811 definition. But since an elf's ability to adhere to wizarding law is hampered by their mandate to obey their masters, the laws and regulations concerning them more resemble that of Beasts. In fact, serious cases involving an elf causing bodily harm to a witch or wizard are assigned to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."
Lestrade didn't like the sound of this. "What happens if they're convicted?"
"House-elves ruled as a danger to the wizarding world are executed," said Diggory matter-of-factly. Then he saw Lestrade's face and added, "Elf executions are rare, as they're not malicious by nature. I only know of one case, and it was done as a matter of caution. The elf was senile and accidentally poisoned her mistress, I believe."
Lestrade felt ill. "That's manslaughter. You don't get executed for manslaughter in this day and age."
"I'm not privy to the reasons behind the then Committee's verdict," said Diggory evasively. "For specific cases, you'll have to consult the special advisor for elf legislation, Emma Lufkin."
"Where can I find her?"
"Minister for Magic and Support Staff, Level One."
Lestrade wrote that down and offered his hand to Diggory.
"Thanks, Amos, you've been a great help."
-oo00oo-
Lestrade ended up going to the Leaky Cauldron to meet John for a quick lunch and a pint after his morning at the MoM. John bought the first and only round of beers and handed Lestrade a data stick.
"For Harry?" Lestrade asked.
John nodded. "I know it's against security protocols, but I absolutely will take advantage of the fact they'll let you bring contraband because you're the posh git carrying it."
Lestrade threw a handful of peanuts at John.
"Don't worry, it's nothing terrible," said John, smirking and brushing the shells away. "Just some Marvel movies, Robin Williams shorts and Monty Python sketches."
"For the laughs?"
"Yup," John nailed Lestrade with a look. "Make sure he gets it, will you? I can't make him happy, but I can help him laugh."
"I will," Lestrade promised.
He teleported to Hogwarts on that solemn note. The Aurors stationed around the gates gave him a respectful nod, did a cursory pat down, and waved him in. Like John predicted, no one questioned, let alone confiscated, the data stick in his coat pocket. I should have a word with Dumbledore about this, Lestrade thought as he walked past the gates. His contraband might be harmless, but others could bring in all sorts of alarming things— chemical bombs, for example.
Then Lestrade stopped to stare at the castle looming overhead.
He'd seen pictures of Hogwarts, of course. He even did a virtual tour through the hallways and classrooms through Harry Watson's 3D map. But seeing the turrets, battlements, and towers, plus tiny dark windows upon the stone walls in person was an entirely different experience. Dear God, it was glorious and beautiful and took his breath away.
Lestrade resumed his trek up the hill. He saw a familiar face sitting on the stone steps to the main entrance.
"Dad!" said Julia, jumping to her feet.
Lestrade let out an 'oomph' when Julia ran into him and hugged his torso. He clutched her back tightly and breathed in her scent. At length, they walked up the steps together, arms around each other's back.
"Did you have lunch?" Julia asked.
"I can eat," said Lestrade.
Julia raised an eyebrow and tapped his tummy pointedly. That moment, she was the very image of her late mother Cecilia, from looks to gesture. The unexpected remembrance stabbed Lestrade's heart.
Julia guided him to the Great Hall and to the Hufflepuff table. Harry was there, scowling at a stone bowl containing steamed rice, colourful vegetables, and a fried egg.
"Hey, kid," Lestrade greeted.
Harry made an effort to uncrinkle his face. "Hello, Inspector. Sorry, Julia," he added. "They wouldn't leave out the f… the damn egg."
Lestrade gave Harry points for stopping the habitual f-bomb.
Julia sighed. "I guess I can eat eggs."
"And you call yourself herbivore," said Harry.
"It's called being an ovo vegetarian, smartass," Julia countered.
They sat down. Lestrade dug into his pocket. "Your mum gave me a care package."
"She must think I'm going down a depressive spiral," Harry grumbled. Yet his face brightened when Lestrade gave him the data stick.
"Avengers?" he asked hopefully.
"She did say Marvel movies," said Lestrade.
Harry cracked a smile, which left Lestrade in awe of John's sixth sense when it came to Harry and Sherlock's wellbeing. Seriously, if he didn't know any better, he would've thought John was magical.
"How long are you going to be here, Dad?" Julia asked while accepting the stone bowl from Harry.
"The rest of the day and some," said Lestrade. "I have a meeting with Dumbledore in thirty minutes. What are you up to?"
"History of Magic project."
That was the code for the ghost interviews. "Good luck with that."
One of Julia's Muggle-born friends— the one Julia spent hours on the phone talking about books and complaining how stupid the boys were; God, whatshername—Arthur's youngest son, Ron, and That Boy Neville came over and joined them at their table. They all helped themselves to the food. Julia declared Lestrade the best Dad in the world when he produced a bottle of hot sauce. While Julia smothered her bibimbap with it, Lestrade asked Harry about his 'physical therapy'.
"They're making me try Tai Chi," said Harry, imitating a kata.
"How is it?"
"It's not bad now," said Harry. From his tone, Lestrade guessed even the basics were a lot harder than he was letting on.
The six of them headed out after the kids finished their meal. Once out of earshot of strangers, Julia's friends started to discuss their Sherlock Assignment—a.k.a. dig up LV's past.
"Any luck with the teachers, Hermione?" Harry asked.
Julia's Muggle-born friend, Hermione, turned glum. "I asked Professor McGonagall, and she said she only knew Riddle by reputation. Same for Professor Flitwick. What about you, Harry?"
"I asked the Fat Friar if he could talk to the Baron," said Harry with a grimace. "No dice. 'That would mean he speak to me in confidence or confession, and those are not for me to disclose.' I forgot he's a man of the cloth."
"I don't suppose we can ask Nearly Headless Nick," said Hermione.
Ron shook his head. "Nick's too scared of him."
"What about the Ravenclaw ghost?" Julia asked. "I assume we have one."
"The Grey Lady," said Hermione. "But she doesn't talk. According to Hogwarts, A History, she hasn't spoken in the last one thousand years."
Harry heaved a sigh. Poor kid, you've got your work cut out for you, Lestrade thought, as he gave him a sympathetic pat on the back.
Lestrade parted ways with Julia and her friends on the third floor. He marched through the empty corridor, and he stopped in front of an ugly, stone gargoyle.
"Acid Pops," he said to it.
The gargoyle stepped aside as the wall behind it split in two. Lestrade snickered as he stepped over the threshold. Yep, I'm in Hogwarts. MWAHAHAHA!
He boarded the moving spiral staircase, stepped off at the top, and knocked on the oak doors before him.
"It's Lestrade," he said.
"Ah, Greg, do come in," said Dumbledore's voice.
He entered the office. He took a moment to take in silver artefacts puffing smoke, the enchanted portraits of withered geezers slumbering in their frames, and the swan-sized bird with fantastic red and gold plumage on its perch.
"Take a seat," said Dumbledore with a smile.
Lestrade realized his mouth was open. He closed it. "Thanks. So you wanted to see me?" he asked as he sat down.
"Yes, I have important news," said Dumbledore, in a business-like voice. "Severus has brought to my attention Bellatrix Lestrange recently vowed to Lord Voldemort she will purge the unworthy members of her family. What triggered this rash promise I do not know, but I have little doubt dear Bella means it."
Lestrade clawed his armrest. "She wants to kill me and my family."
"Not quite," said Dumbledore. "I believe Lord Voldemort is unwilling to slaughter those he deems Pure-Blood, which you are. The same goes for your daughter Julia."
"But not Martin, Rupert, Elise, and Isaac. Definitely not Ellen."
Dumbledore shook his head gravely. "No. You may also include your cousins Sirius and Nymphadora among her targets. Sirius and Tonks are aware of the threat and have braced themselves accordingly. June Hu is with your children and wife, so you need not worry about them for now. But I think it will be prudent to move them to a safer location."
"Ellen and I talked about her staying with Jacqueline until this blows over," said Lestrade. "She agreed. Guess we'll have to up the schedule."
"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "That resolves that problem."
Dumbledore then asked Lestrade about Death Eater activity and how much of it might be spilling over the Muggle world. Lestrade reported he didn't see anything on the street level and heard nothing strange from the Commissioner. But if something fishy was going on in Downing Street, he would be the last to know.
"I don't suppose you heard of any suspicious break-ins?" Dumbledore asked.
"Not my division," said Lestrade empathically. Bloody hell, why did everyone think he was some all-purpose Muggle Law Enforcement contact?
Dumbledore chuckled. "And how are our mutual friends in Baker Street?"
"As annoying as ever. John made me bring in contraband, by the way. Just movies, but still."
"It's all right. I am far too aware of the futility of stopping such comings and goings when individuals are determined," Dumbledore's smile turned rueful. "Just yesterday my dear colleague Horace declared his intention to invite a hundred guests for a private Halloween party. I have no doubt he'll convince the Ministry to allow him the exception even if I refuse."
Lestrade palmed his face. "This is a disaster. I'm so sorry, you have the hardest job."
"It does have its moments of hair-pulling frustration," said Dumbledore serenely. "But as a whole, I found it quite rewarding. Speaking of futility, I don't suppose Sherlock and John would be amenable to staying in 221B and nowhere else."
"Snowball's chance in hell," confirmed Lestrade. "Last time we tried to keep Sherlock under house arrest, he took John and went so underground even MI5 couldn't pin down their location."
"Really? I find that rather shocking, considering what I know about their influence and reach."
"They haven't told you how they got married?"
"All I know is their marriage was one of the, I quote, 'mad, crazy things' they had to do apprehend James Moriarty."
Lestrade leaned back into his chair and met Dumbledore's eyes.
"They gave you that spiel, eh? Well, I can tell you what I know. Mind, I don't have all the details."
"I never lost hope that one day I will get to hear the full story," said Dumbledore. "But for now, I can content myself with more information."
Lestrade grinned. "You and me both, Dumbledore, you and me both. So, where should I begin? You already know how they met and how they ended up fighting Jim Moriarty together, right?"
"I do. And as much as you know about the immediate events that preceded the marriage if don't mind."
"Sure," Lestrade took a deep breath. "Moriarty convinced the Yard Sherlock might've kidnapped the ambassador to U.S.'s kids. We went to arrest him, but Sherlock took off, taking John as 'hostage'." Dumbledore chuckled at the audible quotes. "The two then went so MIA, not even Big Brother Holmes could find them."
"Dear me, this must have left Mr. Mycroft Holmes in quite a state," said Dumbledore.
"You should've seen his face when he kidnapped me for a chat. It was priceless," said Lestrade with relish. "Here's the gist of our conversation:
'We need to find John Watson.'
'Why?'
'Surely even you know the stakes, Inspector. The world is in a state of confusion. It wants to know if it should believe Sherlock Holmes or believe Jim Moriarty. They must know, or otherwise, Moriarty's criminal empire runs amok. Dr. Watson built a reputation of blogging about Sherlock, warts and all, but with respect. Therefore they are waiting for John to speak.'"
"So you went looking," said Dumbledore.
"Big Brother made plans, and I did the grunt work," Lestrade corrected. "Don't tell him I said this, but it was the funniest week I had. The most bizarre, too."
"Do tell me how so."
"First, he made me deliberately do things a copper won't do when they go searching for people," said Lestrade. "Asking random people. Knocking random doors. Meantime, Big Brother Holmes compiles a list of things Baby Brother Holmes would never, ever do. You know what's funny? Getting married didn't make the list."
"How did this lead to your discovery of Sherlock, which I presume happened?"
"Well, the thing is—"
That moment, Lestrade's phone chimed, telling him it was time to go to class. Dumbledore dropped his face into his hands and groaned.
"Sorry, gotta go," Lestrade muttered.
"And I dare not stop you," said Dumbledore, calmly enough into his hands. "Do enjoy your classes, Greg. In the meantime, I shall endeavour to not drown myself in anguish and wait for the rest."
-oo00oo-
Lestrade jogged through the halls, checking the map Julia sent him to make sure he was heading the right direction. While climbing up a flight of stairs, one that had a vanishing step according to the map, a thought occurred to him:
Well, sh!t, I didn't get to ask Dumbledore about Hokey.
This seemed to happen in every meeting he had with Dumbledore. He would have all these questions, but he'd leave with none of them answered unless Dumbledore chose to address them on his own initiative. Moreover, Lestrade always disclosed far more than he ever intended to.
Always … disclosing … more … than … intended …
Lestrade slowly came to a stop, his brain churning and heart pounding with growing dread.
He didn't for one second believe Dumbledore was helping LV. He had a reputation for defending the weak and the marginalized, and nothing about his daily conduct said it was otherwise. Hagrid, case in point. Trusting Dumbledore was easy, and suspecting him felt like a betrayal.
And yet…
Lestrade was a copper. He questioned people even when it was the last thing he wanted to do. He also learned from fifteen years of experience not following through his vague feelings of suspicion was a quick way to sloppy detective work and gut wrenching regret. Besides, now that he was starting to question things, he had a whole slew of questions he wanted answers to.
Why was Dumbledore spearheading the fight against LV? He was a teacher, forchristsakes, not a soldier. Did he come to the position by default? How did he collect his intel? What was his vision of victory? Did he communicate his vision to those on his side? More importantly, what led him to believe LV was wrong and needed to be stopped? For all that Lestrade believed Dumbledore was on the side of good, he was too … cerebral to have come to his position by strong feelings of right and wrong.
Run a background check on Albus Dumbledore, Lestrade decided.
Final Notes: I am the worst. This chapter is the worst. Twenty plus drafts, two months of agony, and this is what I come up with. *headdesks* Sorry guys.
House-elf classification as Beings is canon, more or less. Everything else is speculation on my part. You can read more about my thoughts on Hokey and house-elves in the wizard criminal justice system at booksofchange dot com (slash) blog
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