It was the cook's absentmindedness that saved them, Percy suspected, because by the time she'd caught on that something was amiss and sent a message through however she sent messages (the Floo? Surely she had to buy supplies, somehow), their plan had already been in place for long enough that the odds of failure had dwindled. He hoped.
What happened was that Bagman showed up, wand at the ready. "I don't know what happened," the cook was blabbering. "All of a sudden she wasn't there. I've been searching everywhere."
"You're all right," he said. And perhaps his hand on her back was supportive for her, but the crunch of his voice and the way he stared around the practice compound made him seem anything but comforting.
He cast a spell—"Homenum Revelio!"—in the courtyards, the kitchens, even the opposite side dorms to no effect.
George seemed to almost perk up at the last of those. "So, is there anybody in there?" he managed to ask. "W—I was wondering."
"Not to my knowledge," said Bagman, but he Apparated in and out of them, just to make sure. "All right," he finally said. "Wood, do you know anything about this?"
"No!" Oliver blurted. "Not until you got here, obviously. If you're ready to move on, we do need this space to practice..."
"But you must have noticed when she'd gone missing."
"I assumed she was sick again, she was sick a lot. Beyond that, I got wrapped up in the practice."
"It's true," said Jimmy. "He goes too far, sometimes, making us run laps."
"Oh, be quiet. It's worked for you."
"Do you know anything about this?" Bagman asked Jimmy.
"Course not," Jimmy replied. "If she'd run away, I'd have asked to go with. No hard feelings."
Bagman shook his head, and then aimed his wand at Oliver. "All right. You're coming with me for a few more questions."
"No!" Oliver blurted again. "She was my student, and she could be anywhere, I'm just as worried as you are! What do you think, I have something to hide?"
"Of course not. So surely, you won't mind if I interview you all independently. It gives us more...reliable knowledge, about where she might have gotten out."
"Take me first."
Percy stepped forward, shivering, but trying to look Bagman in the eye.
"Oliver's...tired. He's been on his feet all day. I can answer your questions. I—I was as close to him as anyone, you know; he was the other saecutor. I learned so much from him. I just hope he's okay. I can help you."
"Him?" said Bagman.
"Er...her. Sorry, it's still confusing. But she was my friend. I'll help you."
"All right, then," said Bagman, looking from Percy to Oliver and back. "If you'll step this way."
Percy nodded, walking into the kitchen and trying to steady his breathing.
"Thank you for helping," Bagman said with a large smile. "Now, when was the last time you saw Angelina?"
"I dunno, it was...two? Three days ago?"
"Do you eat meals together?"
"Yeah. Er. She would have been there...three nights ago?"
"And what did you have for dinner?"
"Same as always. Some kind of vegetables, lots of mush...beans, I think."
"Did you practice after dinner?"
"I don't think so. We usually don't."
"So did you see Angelina that night?"
"I don't remember. I don't think so."
Bagman nodded. "Now, what happened the next morning?"
"I practiced. Like always."
"Anything out of the ordinary?"
"No. I guess I wasn't working that hard, yesterday was one of my longer practice days so I eased up the day before."
"Anything at all?"
"I don't know! Oliver was pretty angry, I think, he was yelling a lot—at everybody—"
"All right. I'm going to need for you to focus very hard on that morning."
Percy said nothing. Could Bagman tell what he was thinking? Should he think about something else to throw him off? And yet if there was any way for Bagman to know what he or Oliver or anyone else was thinking, Bagman would have long since left the compound...
Then Bagman had taken a couple steps until he was almost on top of Percy, his wand point-blank on Percy's head. "No!" Percy screamed. "Please, please don't—I don't know where he is, she, I don't—please—I can't—"
It took him a moment to realize that Bagman had backed away, a silver tendril sprouting out of the tip of the wand. "Thank you," he said. "I won't be long."
And with that, he'd Apparated away.
Percy stared. Surely Bagman couldn't know. Unless that had been enough, just to take a wand to Percy's head? But he could have done that in front of the others?
Or maybe all he was taking was enough to see and hear all that Percy had seen and heard, that day. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just the simple facts of the memory.
He stood behind the thin stake, as if that would keep him out of the way from the words hurled across the sand. "What's your problem?" Lee yelled. "Been distracted, have you?" "We had one of our fighters win the stick, that's hardly a failure—" "Except that "Do you want to know what I've observed?" "Oh, yes. Do tell me. The things you observe are certainly the most engrossing—" "Look at "Easy there." "This is utter rubbish! Cracked down the side, barely holding together this way—" "You've gone round the bend, mate." "Do you not like this? Because I've got a whole box full of practice equipment..." "Good, then you haven't completely lost it..." "That is equally junk!" And Oliver flipped open the largest box, setting down the mace and picking out a raptor. "What's wrong with that?" "Are you blind? The third point is about to fall off! Look how much it flaps down." "There's still three spokes and they still all point out. Would you like me to poke you with them, so you can see if they're all still sharp? I don't see what your problem is." "My problem is all this time you've been in and out of here, gossiping, asking whether would we like a bit of news, a piece of parchment, and not once have you checked to see whether our equipment is any good!" "Well you've never brought it up!" "I have seven people to train, all with different styles. It's not like I can keep everything straight." "Less than that now," Lee said coolly. "How dare you. How dare you walk in here and insult a dead man, when maybe if he'd had some idea what he was up against—if he could have practiced better—he might still be alive!" Oliver hurled the raptor down, punching three holes through the lid of the box. "Not so proud of your own teaching, I see." "Go on, that's right. Insult me. I can take it. But don't you dare talk about Fred that way." "Well, in that case, I think you're an absolute crackpot and an entitled brat." "And I think you're an oblivious gofer and an incompetent waste of time!" Oliver punctuated this with another puncture of the box. Lee grabbed the raptor out of his hands. "Glad to see we've come to an agreement." "I'll be glad to see the last of you." "In that case, I suppose there's no sense waiting around." "How about this, how about you don't come back until you can bring us a new set of weapons. That actually work." "And when I find out that a full set is way too expensive? Particularly with how few fights there are these days?" "Always the money with you, isn't it? Like I care anymore. Just get rid of this." Oliver closed the lid halfway, nodded at Lee until he'd dropped the raptor in, and closed the other half. "What am I, hauling off your junk for you? Who's the slave now?" "Oh, believe me, if they let me out of here, I'd be glad to chuck this rubbish in the bin where it belongs." Lee picked up the box. "That's not the only thing here that belongs in a bin." "Go on, we don't need you! You go save your precious money to bet on the fights. It's obvious that's all you care about. Here, I'll save you some time. Don't bet on us again. This equipment clearly won't get us anywhere." "So be it then," said Lee, already walking away. "All bets are off."
Bagman had not told Percy to stay, but he hadn't told him to leave either, and absent such assurances Percy felt most confident staying put. Until he heard the crack that told him someone had Apparated directly into the courtyard.
He walked outside as Bagman approached Oliver. "I've gotten some very helpful information," he said, "and I think we'll be able to find him soon. I do, however, need to ask you some more questions."
"Well, here I am," said Oliver, "go right ahead."
"The questions need to be private to be most reliable."
"I don't have anything to hide, and I don't know any more than this crowd."
Bagman nodded, producing a small bottle from his robes. "Then you won't mind drinking this first?"
Oliver wrinkled his nose. "Allergies."
"What's a little discomfort next to finding your friend?" Bagman handed him the bottle, which he uncorked, held briefly—and then dropped, the shards bouncing across the ground as the liquid spilled among them.
"Sorry," Oliver said, kneeling down and picking up a few of the largest pieces as if to prevent people from stepping on them.
"Tut, tut, such form from the one-time champion."
He said nothing, but continued to pick up smaller and smaller pieces slowly, as if taking care not to cut his hand.
"Incarcerous!" yelled Bagman, and from nowhere ropes sprung up, binding Oliver's legs and arms. He winced, trying to cup his hands together, but they jerked apart. Bagman caught hold of the ropes, and then Apparated away again, that time with Oliver vanishing behind him.
"No!" Percy yelled.
"He'll be back," said Ritchie. "Oliver's too important. It'll be all right."
"Have you ever seen anything like this before?"
"Bagman's not mad," said Andy. "He won't get out of control."
But it was little comfort as Percy paced back, avoiding the puddle dotted with the remaining pieces of glass, across the courtyard towards Oliver's room. He bent down and crawled under the bed, stroking the spine of the book to reassure himself it was still there.
And then he reached farther back, where the edge of the wall was lined with a host of wooden practice weapons.