Chapter 10 – Without Teeth

...

On Wednesday, I received a note requesting my to make myself available that Friday and to show up in the entrance hall at four o'clock in the afternoon sharp. It was not signed, nor was there any hint of where it might have come from, but I had only one suspect.

Tom had one too, he told me.

"What do you think it is?" I asked.

"Well, obviously something to do with Hagrid," he muttered. Seeing my face, he squeezed my hand. "Don't worry. It'll all be sorted out soon."

That was what I was afraid of.

The day dawned bright and sunny: a good omen, I thought. I had made my vague excuses to the girls, who had wanted to spend the afternoon by the lake, and slipped out to the common room. Tom was waiting for me. Without a word to each other, we walked to the entrance hall.

I saw him before we reached him: a tall man, wearing black. He reminded me of the first invigilator we'd had for our Transfiguration OWLs. He wore glasses that elongated his already long face. His skin had a sort of sickly pallor to it.

"Tom Riddle and Evelyn Spencer?"

We nodded.

"Follow me," the man said.

"Who are you?" Tom said, his voice full of authority. "You can't expect us to do whatever you want when we don't even know your name."

"Fabian Lynch," the man repeated without a hitch, not seemingly startled by Tom's tone. "I'm with the Ministry of Magic. I've been sent to fetch you." He offered a card with his picture and Ministry information for us to examine. "Now come on, we're on a tight schedule. Follow me."

We did as we were told, Tom grudgingly so. We left right through the main entrance, walking quickly to keep up with Lynch. He was continuing straight, towards the school gates, not stopping until we had just passed under the arch.

"Now both of you, take an arm."

Not wanting to touch him, I more lay my hand on top of his sleeve, but then felt him twist, and my grip immediately tightened like vise-grip. It suddenly seemed I could not breathe. The grassy foot path and surrounding trees disappeared, and I was being pressed by a thousand pounds, my throat constricting and stretching at the same time, a tremendous weight on my head that was spinning, and a terrifying sensation like I couldn't move even a muscle, not even an eyelid. My body seemed to stretch and twist at the same time, yet I couldn't even make a sound for the sense of discord and confusion I felt.

Then it had stopped, and like a rubber band, everything snapped. Color and noise and touch and sensation all appeared to me. My feet slammed into the ground and I immediately stumbled away from Lynch, disoriented and unbalanced. A few feet away, Tom too was bent over, panting and his hands on his knees. He looked up, glaring at Lynch.

"What the hell? Give us a warning before you pull something like that!" he snapped.

Lynch shrugged, unconcerned. "As I said, we're on a tight schedule."

Tom threw him another scornful before recovering and standing up straight. "You all right?" he asked me quietly.

I nodded. "I think so."

"Side-along Apparition," Tom explained. "I've read about it, but this was my first time."

I managed a smile. "So there is something even the prodigious Tom Riddle has never experienced."

"Come on!" Lynch suddenly shouted over to us. "I haven't got all day."

"I swear I'll Jinx him by the end of the day..." Tom muttered.

We had been so distracted by the Apparition that it was not until now that I realized where we were: the Ministry of Magic. The hall we stood in now was long and dark. More dark buildings were on every side of us, ones that seemed to stretch even higher than the skyscrapers of Manhattan I had only ever seen pictures of and into oblivion. There were clusters of people all around the hall. Many of them wore cloaks similar to the one Lynch was dressed in, but many of them were dressed in civilian clothes as well. Others were roving about, all of them without fail running, bumping into things and knocking them over, ignoring angry expressions of reproof. In the air, what appeared to be bits of paper were chasing one another down chutes and up various hatches that connected to the sides of the dark buildings. As I followed a paper butterfly while it circled higher and higher to dizzying heights, I jumped as Lynch once again interrupted me.

"This way, you two. And mind you don't get lost."

He set off towards a pair of golden gates, behind which were lifts. Not the old rickety ones that I was familiar with, but ones that were swift and smooth. I was surprised to find inside an attendant—a small, wizened creature with knobby limbs and joints and pointed ears—operating the mechanics by hand. We were going down, lights and images flashing by to give us a taste of different floors. Finally we stopped, and Lynch pushed us out.

"In here," he said abruptly, opening a door to a small room. It was empty but for a chair, and another door at the back wall. The place was curiously sterile in appearance, given it was in the Ministry and the grandeur I had just laid eyes on some floors above.

"Miss Spencer, if you'll wait here. Riddle, you're with me."

"What is this?" Tom demanded, with that same authority. "Something to do with what's happened at Hogwarts, hasn't it? We aren't stupid."

"Yes, that's exactly what this is," Lynch confirmed, business-like. "You two have been designated as key informants and are to be asked some questions regarding anything you might know. Now Riddle—with me."

Tom was glaring at him again but acquiesced. The pair of them went through the far door, leaving me quite alone in the antechamber. I took a seat in the chair. So it had come to this? Being questioned by Ministry officials? Oh, if only I had never gone with Tom that day in the dungeons to see what Hagrid had been doing, I wouldn't be involved with this at all!

There was no clock in the room for me to gauge how long Tom had gone; I could only use my best judgement. I couldn't hear anything from the next room either, so I had no idea what sort of questions they might have been asking of Tom. Surely they'd ask me the same, to corroborate whatever Tom testified? Relax, I ordered myself. Like Tom had said, I only needed to speak the truth. It wasn't me who was going to be deciding Hagrid's fate.

I wondered where he was now. I hadn't seen him at Hogwarts since the day we had spotted him being escorted out. Was here here at the Ministry? I hoped to God he wasn't already being treated like a criminal; he didn't deserve that. And how much of the circumstances was he privy to? Had he even been told of what he was being accused? Did he understand the consequences? Oh God…he was only thirteen…

The door opened harshly. Out walked Tom, looking as sullen as ever. I had barely stood up before Lynch was calling for me. Tom gave me a significant glance as I passed him, which I was unable to interpret, but soon forgot as I entered the next chamber.

It was similarly furnished, meaning hardly at all. Lynch shut the door behind me and commenced to stand quietly in the corner, his arms crossed. In the middle of the room was a large table. One chair, recently vacated, was situated on the side closer to me, facing four men on the opposite. They were dressed similarly to Lynch, wearing austere black robes, but somehow appeared to be more impressive. The one closest to me peered at me for a second, and then asked,

"Evelyn Spencer?"

"Yes," I heard myself affirm.

"Please." He gestured with his hand toward the chair. I took it, the joints creaking just slightly under my weight.

"You are aware of why you have been summoned here today?" one of the men asked. "That you have been deemed a key figure regrading the recent violence at Hogwarts and the role Rubeus Hagrid may have played in the attacks?"

I wanted to protest his wording, but decided getting mouthy with Ministry officials while on the bench might not be the smartest idea. Instead I said yes again.

"This is an official process of the Ministry of Magic. All of your testimony will be recorded. You, the informant, will only speak when directly answering a question that has been posed. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

One of the men produced a small object that I had never seen before. On the top was a small pad-like surface, the kind that might be used for stamp ink. It was attached to a glass bowl, in which was a brilliant cerulean liquid that was moving gently despite being held quite still.

"Thumb on the pad, please," I was instructed. I complied, and not a second later, felt a sharp pain that disappeared almost immediately. When the man took back the object, I could see a red addition to the blue liquid, fanning out beautifully like spidery veins: my blood, I realized. They set the bowl-pad instrument to the side and all looked at me. Then one of the men spoke again, and continued to ask me questions.

"You are currently a fifth year at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, sir."

"What house are you in?"

"Slytherin, sir."

"Where is the Slytherin common room located?"

"In the dungeons."

"Can you be more specific?"

"Off the Viaduct Entrance, close to where the Potions classrooms are."

"How far is it from the Gryffindor Tower?"

"I'm not sure, sir, I don't know where that is. I would expect a decent distance away."

As I was speaking, I could see out of the corner of my eye the blue liquid. The extract of my blood had not sunk to the bottom of the bell, but looked like how a drop of ink would have in a bowl of water, still suspended. Each time I answered, the blue liquid would flash bright green before fading back to its original color. At my last response, my interviewer's expression perked a little.

"Would you say it is unusual for students to be close to common rooms that are not their own?"

I frowned, catching on to the leading question immediately. "I would say so, sir," I said stiffly.

"Very well. Mr. Riddle claimed that you were with him when he discovered eggshells in the bin in one of the dungeons, shortly before Halloween last year. Can you confirm this?"

"Yes, sir, I was there with him."

"Can you describe what you were doing?"

I glanced across the table at all four men. There faces were not threatening, but they were not encouraging either. "…We were just in one of the dungeons by the common room. Tom wanted to look around, so we did. I saw a…something on the ceiling for a split second before it disappeared. It looked like a leg…with hair on it. Then Tom found the eggshells. And that's it."

All of the men stole a check to the glass bowl. It blinked green, my blood bobbing about slowly in it. They turned back to me.

"What time was it when this happened?"

"…Some time after the curfew. Sir."

"So what was it that made you stay out, past curfew, and investigate this? It must have been something that bothered you. What were you doing before you went into that dungeon?"

I swallowed. I knew perfectly well what I had been doing. My eyes darted to the bowl that was measuring my every word. "I…I had been talking to Hagrid." Green.

"Where?"

"…Outside the Slytherin common room."

The mens' faces were impassive, but I knew they were excited now.

"And what was his manner?"

I shook my head.

"What was his manner?" the question came again, more forcefully this time.

Hating them, I muttered, "I thought he was acting strangely. Nervous."

"Did he have anything on him?"

"An empty box. There were only some cotton balls in it."

The man who had been interrogating me pushed his chair back, an ugly sound in the quietness. He strolled back and forth on his side of the table. "So you say, it was past your curfew when you somehow ran into Hagrid, a Gryffindor student, close to the Slytherin common room, acting oddly and carrying an empty box. Then you say you searched a nearby dungeon and found what may have been the leg of a creature and eggshells in the trash?"

I wanted to object so badly. I wanted to say that they had it wrong, they were twisting my words, none of it was what I meant. It all just sounded so bad, and yet the proof of its validity had been put in front of my own eyes. I nodded.

"How would you describe the general character of Rubeus Hagrid?" was the man's next inquiry.

I brightened. Finally, a question that wouldn't hurt. "Very kind," I said at once. "Friendly. And gentle with everyone. He is always eager to please."

"And if you had to…pinpoint his deficiencies?"

I glared at the man. "Well, sir, I suppose…he's rather scatterbrained at times," I said. "But his intentions are always good, no matter what happens."

"He's interested in magical creatures, is he not?"

"He is, sir."

"Very skilled with handling them?"

"Yes, sir."

"And yet you ended up injured while in a class he was helping to supervise?"

"It was technically Professor Kettleburn's class, sir," I shot back. I grew weary of this story. "And Hagrid was nowhere near me when it happened. There were probably more than twenty of us and only one of him; you can't expect him to be in more than one place at once—"

"The informant will only speak when directly answering a question that has been posed," the man said over me. I fell silent, but continued to look daggers at him. A moment passed while we measured each other, before he began again.

"Hagrid had been appointed to assist that day, was he not?"

"Yes. Sir."

The man who had been speaking did something strange then. He raised his fingers to his lips, pressed them against each other. Behind his fingers, I could see him smiling a bit. He leaned back in his chair and studied me.

"Miss Spencer, you are aware that Hogwarts has dealt with magical creatures running amok in the school before? And causing harm?"

"No, sir, I was not aware of this before just now."

"Then it might be good for you know it. Following this incident, regulations concerning magical creatures and their presence on school property were severely changed. In the light of what has happened recently, I am afraid Hagrid will not be facing a lenient sentence."

"But you can't!" I said, raising my voice. I stood up, put my hands on the table. "I haven't said anything that you could use to definitely pin the blame on him, it's all just—circumstantial evidence based on some coincidences!" The injustice was sickening, all the more so for the part I had played in enabling it, I thought.

"The informant will only speak when directly answering a question that has been posed," the man repeated dangerously, standing as he did so and towering over me. He appeared to look quite fed up with me, but I felt the same towards him. I was dying to leave and be back at Hogwarts.

"You are forbidden to speak of what has transpired in this room to anyone other than Mr. Riddle. If you do, we will know. Is this clear?"

I nodded.

Satisfied, the man looked down at me. "Then you are dismissed, Miss Spencer," the man said at last. He and the three other men collected their things and left though another exit Behind me, Lynch had opened the door again. I whipped around and saw it.

Tom was leaning back lazily in the same chair that I had vacated earlier, his arms wrapped around the back of it and his head thrown back to the ceiling. At my footsteps, he jumped up.

"Well? Did everything go all right?"

"If you don't mind, I don't want to really answer anymore questions right now," I said, a little sharply, even surprising myself. I hardly ever snapped at anyone, least of all Tom.

"Sure," he said slowly. He turned attentions to Lynch. "So now what? Are you going to take us back to Hogwarts?"

"Ah, yes, I would be," Lynch replied, like he had just reminded of it. "If you two please, again…"

We knew what he meant this time. I was prepared for the unpleasantness again, but was nevertheless sickened by it. When we came out, we were back at the Hogwarts gates. It was evening now, but it didn't look like it. The sky was still light, peachy streaks just appearing under the clouds to give away the impending darkness, along with a slight coolness to the air.

"Well, I'll leave you children to get back to the castle, then," Lynch said fussily, already rearranging his robes from where our hands had apparently mussed them. "Have a good evening." We heard a prominent snapping sound, and he was gone.

Tom and I trudged up the path to Hogwarts. Neither of us were in a mood to talk, so we didn't. I was hoping dinner would still be going on, for I was starving and looking forward to a hearty meal. Indeed, we could hear the sounds of students in the Great Hall when we made it back inside.

"I'm probably going to have an early night," I said to Tom before we went in, "so I guess I'll say good night now."

"Good night," Tom agreed, and we entered the Great Hall. Tom sought out his gang, enthusiastically greeted by them. I watched as he seated himself in the middle of them. His face molded into its typical relaxed, almost lazy expression at once. No one would have ever guessed what he had just been doing.

A/N: Hello all, thank you for continuing to read! I thought I should let my readers know that I'm thinking of changing the title of this story. It's not because I don't like the current title or think that it doesn't fit, but I'm simply quite picky with my titles, and as simple as The Invisible Girl is, it still took me a lot of time to settle on it. All this time, though, I haven't been totally satisfied with it, as I wanted something slightly more poetic because, since that's just who I am. Anyway, my proposal for a new title is Like Diamonds In Her Eyes. If you want to possibly know why I'm considering this, it comes from the song "Fools Gold" by the band Fitz and the Tantrums. I won't change the title yet, but if you guys have any thoughts on the matter, let me know! And thank you again, as always, for your support.