Chapter Eight

Ongoing Investigations

With bruised bones and ego but a solid sense of humor, Jennifer walked with Hagrid and Ron back to the cottage. Harry and Hermione were in front of them, petting and walking the mounts.

"You sure they're going to be all right handling the Pegasi?" Jennifer asked softly.

"Sure I'm sure!" Hagrid bellowed out. "They're in my Care of Magical Creatures class. Kinda wish I cou' teach them how ta ride, but we had a bit of a mishap a couple years ago, an' I guess Dumbledore don't want a repeat of it."

"Maybe if Professor Craw gets good at it, you and she can take us up with you sometime," Ron suggested. Jennifer quickly backed away, her hands held up in protest.

"Guys, I've only been teaching here a week. I couldn't possibly try pulling those sorts of strings," she laughed as they got to the pen. Hagrid took over the tethers and got the beasts retied.

"How about acting as our escort tonight so we can stay out longer?" Hermione suggested. Hagrid's face brightened.

"Sure. They can stay for dinner, how 'bout it?" he asked. Jennifer smiled and nodded.

"I'm sure that much I can do. Does anyone have anything planned tonight, or anyone specific who may worry I should write a note to?" she asked them all but looked at Harry.

"I'm sure it's quite all right," he said. "We're supposed to have the evening free."

"Wunnerful! Then it's settled! I'll put the kettl' on." Hagrid said going inside. Jennifer put her arm up, waiting for something as Hermione walked up closer, leaning over to her.

"Don't eat the rock cakes. Trust us," she advised.

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Jennifer grinned. Ratfly finally flew to her arm, complaining loudly. "What's the matter, you old grouch, did I wake you?"

"It's a vampire bat!" Ron declared.

"No it isn't," Hermione rolled her eyes, "It's a fruit bat. Can't you tell the difference? He's too large to be a vampire bat."

Quickly Jennifer scribbled a simple note: The Three are with me at Hagrid's. She gave it to the bat, petting its back affectionately.

"To Professor McGonagall please." He immediately took off, flying up towards one of the windows by the Quidditch Pitch. "In her office on a Saturday? Some people just don't know when to take the day off," Jennifer chuckled when she noticed Harry looking off for a moment. Following his gaze, she was startled to see a large black dog, sitting at the edge of the pen.

"Be right back," said Harry and went over to him.

"Isn' anyone comin' in?" Hagrid asked, popping out the door with a confused look on his face.

"Who's that man over there talking to Harry?" Jennifer asked point blank, shifting to one side just in case she needed to get to her wand.

"Oh, that's uh… ow! I wish you'd stop doing that!" Ron said, glaring at Hermione who just gave him a jab.

"What man?" asked Hermione. Jennifer was just about ready to lay into her when Hagrid came over to take a look.

"Don' worry, Professor. Tha's a friend of Dumbledore's. Maybe I should'a made more cakes then," the said, almost to himself. Jennifer relaxed, realizing at last who it must be. Just then Ratfly came screeching back, dropping a note on her head before swooping off.

"Oh, go on to bed then, Ratfly," she scowled, opening the note. "All right, looks like everything's squared away so let's go in, shall we?" She turned to where Harry and the dog stood and nodded politely to the dog before going in.

"Professor," Hermione asked when they got inside, "how was it that you knew that it wasn't just a normal dog?"

"It's just a little quirk of mine. I can always tell. But I'd rather you not mention it to anyone else, if you don't mind. It might cause me a lot more headaches."

"Sugar an' lemon, Professor?" Hagrid asked.

"Just sugar."

"Boy, we could have used you here a few years ago," Ron made a face. "We found out the hard way that my familiar was really an animagus." Jennifer blinked.

"Your familiar? He must have been in the form for awhile," Jennifer said.

"Years," Ron nodded. Jennifer couldn't help but think how positively ghastly that would be.

"There will be none of that while I'm around," Jennifer assured them.

Harry walked in, shutting the door behind him.

"I take it Mr. Black couldn't stay?" she asked, hearing a gasp through the room. Harry just looked at her steadily.

"No, he was just checking in," he finally said, sitting down.

"I thought you said you didn't know who it was!" Ron challenged her.

"I didn't until Hagrid said it was a friend of Dumbledore's. You don't think you're the only ones who can rub two sticks together and get a flame, do you?" Jennifer asked, accepting her tea. Hagrid shifted uncomfortably, setting some plates out.

"Mind if we ask you something, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"I have a feeling you'd ask whether I wanted you to or not," Jennifer chuckled.

"Well, we all know why You-Know-Who is after Harry," Hermione said, glancing in his direction briefly. "But why is it that he, or at least the Death Eaters, seem to be after you?"

Jennifer set down her cup.

"Well, I'm not completely sure they are after me, really. But if they are, then I can safely say we both share the same question. What have you been hearing?" she asked.

"Hearing, Professor?" Harry asked.

"What have the other students been saying? Even rumors can be informative if you know how to screen them, and I'm afraid I haven't been hearing the student point of view much. I don't think many have come to trust me yet." Jennifer admitted.

"The Slytherin students are saying that your father was a Death Eater," Harry told her, "and that he 'chickened out' after Voldemort made him help kill a family that he knew and fled. And that it was because…"

"Your mother," Hermione continued, looking at Harry, "was a Muggleborn, like me." Jennifer looked thoughtful. All those in and of itself were probably valid rumors, she thought. She hadn't known her father helped kill anyone, but that part at least was more than likely true. After all, fear had a very curious effect on people sometimes.

"She was half-Muggle, actually," Jennifer corrected, "although I understand why they would believe that. You three wouldn't have any ideas on who wrote the Dark Mark in my classroom, would you?"

"Malfoy," all three of them answered at once.

"You forget though," Jennifer began, picking up her cup again, "Draco had an alibi. He was speaking to Professor Trelawney."

"Yes, to tell her that you've been telling all of your students that Divination was a load of bollocks," Ron nodded. "And if you did, I personally agree with you."

Jennifer blinked. Twice.

"I hadn't heard about that," she admitted. The last thing she wanted right now was to be at odds with a staff member over what a student said.

"Then they told us that Trelawney said that 'you'd get what was coming to you soon,' and that 'you were going to suffer from eternal sleep.' But honestly, nobody ever pays attention to Professor Trelawney. She's had Harry dying every year since he started school!" Hermione explained, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes twice in the same week."

Jennifer stifled a chuckle.

"Now, let's not be too critical. She's still a professor, and there are some rare talents out there in that field…"

"Well, she's definitely not one of them," Ron snickered. Jennifer frowned sternly at him.

"Here we go! Forestfern Fungus Pie! With potatoes, o' course!" Hagrid said proudly. "Wull, don' just look at it, dig in!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked dubiously at their plates, while Jennifer took a heaping forkful, looking thoughtful.

"You know, Hagrid, this is very good. But if you don't mind a little advice, a nice bit of melted sharp cheese on top would be just the thing, the very thing."

After some taste testing himself, Hagrid also agreed that perhaps that would be better, and he'd try that the next time they came around. Harry and Ron gave Jennifer an accusing look, while Hermione picked at her plate.

"You know, I just had an idea," Jennifer said. "How would you students like to be on my team, so to speak? Perhaps you would be willing to get back with me once a week, sooner if necessary, and tell me any rumors that might effect your, my, or school safety, hmm? Not tattlin' stuff, mind you. But more like what you just told me."

"What do we get out of it?" Ron wanted to know. Jennifer leaned forward.

"Well, what you get is another professor as a friend, one that can you can actually tell the absolute most unbelievable facts that you might acquire and believe them without a doubt," she smiled.

"What about giving us information you find out from teachers that you think we should know about?" Harry asked. Jennifer pondered it a moment.

"I can't make any promises, but if there's anything I think you need or deserve to know, I'll definitely tell you," she said carefully. Harry nodded.

"Deal," he said.

Jennifer spent Sunday morning in her rooms going over the papers that she had copied the other evening, researching the old paperwork and piecing together bits of information about the courts that her mother worked in. It wasn't very long when she found something odd. On the bottom of her mother's personal employment page had been scribbled a written note: transferred from Animagi Security Department due to concerns of loyalty.

Her mother was a security risk? She shook her head at that. That seemed extremely unbelievable to her. And yet, looking at the date, she realized this had taken place about a month after her marriage to her father, Thomas Craw. Perhaps it was the marriage that made them nervous, coming from such a notorious family. Turning to the back to read over the permanent record, Jennifer fell out of her chair in surprise.

12/23 Sited for contempt

1/11 Sited for contempt

3/6 Sited for contempt

4/2 Fired for impersonating a Truth Seeker.

Jennifer bit down her anger. Apparently, whatever corruption had been going on in the Ministry, it had been going on for some time. All of the dates, she realized, were after she moved departments as well. Fired for impersonating a Truth Seeker? That was the most ridiculous charge she had heard of. Jennifer cursed a moment, noticing that there was no sign of who it was that had fired her. Like all good magic documents, the signatures hadn't copied to the duplicates so she wasn't sure who approved it. Folding them up again, she went down to her office, closing the door behind her.

Quickly finding a few ingredients, she mixed up a powder, blowing it over the paper. She waited for it to settle, then picked it up, tapping off the edges to clear the access dust. Looking at the back of the paper, she pondered the name because she'd never seen it before. Who was A. Rookwood?

Carefully attempting to sweep up the dust with a brush, the papers fell to the floor. Muttering at her carelessness, she stooped to pick them up, and then noticed something appearing on the back of one of the court pages. Jennifer squinted at it. Nothing had been on the back of the copies upstairs, she was sure of it, so whatever had been there had been erased before it had even got to the trash room. Picking up the sheet, she sat back at her desk, carefully dusting it, blowing off the excess.

Make sure these papers disappear immediately, Fudge, or else there will be people who disappear in their place.

A Dark Mark had been signed below it.

Breathing heavily, she turned it over with a surprise that soon turned into anger. She found herself looking at a series of acquittals that her father had testified at, for the defense, it would seem. But how could he have? Her father and mother had fled to America a year before Voldemort had faced Harry Potter. That just didn't make any sense. She turned the paper over, and on the sheet was the cover page with the name of one of those being accused. It was a man named Lucius Malfoy. Suddenly Jennifer had a feeling that there was a lot more to this than it looked, and she was quite sure these weren't even legitimate copies of the real trial.

Still, there must be some underlying reason that someone in Voldemort's circle would want these copies to be destroyed, and this along with the other recent events made Jennifer feel sure that Malfoy was one of the Death Eaters. And what about her mother's file? Could it be that someone had impersonated her so Malfoy could get off on his charges?

Quickly forgetting her promise to stay close to the school, Jennifer got dressed in her weekend clothes and took out a pouch of Floo Powder, grabbing a notebook where she had written down local addresses. Finding the Ministry lobby, she stepped into the fireplace.

The Ministry of Archives was on the lower level, a stuffy office with the pungent smell of old parchment lingering in the air. An old human wizard by the name of Hodges was the clerk there, and had the personality and face of a goblin, dubiously letting her fill out a registration card to gain access to her family's legal records, even making her perform a blood test to prove hers matched family samples.

"A Craw, eh? Thought you were all gone now," he said with a shrug as the test came up positive and he sealed her registration card. "Mallus Craw's descendant, he was a powerful dark wizard, him."

"So I've heard," Jennifer said curtly, annoyed at the tone in the wizard's voice. "Can you show me where the documents are now?"

"All right, fine, but just to let you know public records is only open until two on weekends, so you only have a couple hours," he said.

Grimacing, she nodded to him, following him into the A through D section as he combed through, looking for the right one, not letting her even touch any of the unopened folders and books. Finally he found her the right ones and she sat down with them quickly, flipping through pages.

Tons of them seemed to be legal business notes, which really wasn't surprising to Jennifer. Before they had left, the Craws had been one of the most prominent old money families. Years of dark wizardry had definitely paid off, and the spoils had been vast at one point. Over time and lazier generations the money had dwindled, however, but even so, her father had left behind a small fortune when they fled; forced to start over with nothing more than what little they brought with them. But Jennifer's interest in the records had not been about the money concerns at all... until she suddenly crossed a business transaction that had been the family connection she had been looking for. It was the records of a merger between one of her father's smaller businesses with a very large one, Malfoy Enterprises and Magical Industries.

So, they had been in business together at one point; the documents were signed by both of them along with several counselors. Jennifer flipped through various other enterprises, amazed at how many joint ventures there were. Perhaps this was how the Death Eaters were funneling their money, she thought as she glanced over them. And if so, that meant Malfoy Enterprises was not a clean business as the public accepted it to be. That in itself might be a viable motive to want her mother and father dead, for if they had exposed the activity it might be enough to cast a lot of questions on the multimillion galleon industry. Of course, it was all speculation at this point. Quickly Jennifer copied down some information on a notepad, finishing up just as Hodges had come to get her.

"Can you tell me where Gespot and Gringotts Accounting is?" Jennifer asked, handing him the folder. He raised an eyebrow, wondering what she was up to.

"It's in Gringotts Bank in Diagon Alley. You haven't been around here long, have you?" he asked. "You had better be careful, especially being a Craw and all. People around here have been a mite jumpy since there was rumor that You-Know-Who is back. A strange coincidence, isn't it, a Craw coming back just after word gets out he's still alive and well?"

Jennifer bit back her reply. Let him think she was a dark witch if he likes. Anything she would say would only go to confirm it in his mind. Nodding stiffly, Jennifer told him good afternoon and headed back out to the lobby. Diagon Alley was just a hop away by Floo Powder, but trying to make the right chimney had given her a little trouble, and she had jumped in at the last minute, causing her to land forward, bumping into someone standing near the fireplace when she came out.

Apologizing in embarrassment, she found herself looking at a very familiar looking middle-aged wizard and a pretty woman wearing strange clothes, who was staring with her in utter confusion and astonishment.

"Are you all right?" the wizard asked, helping her up. It was as he took his hand that she noticed the symbols on his robes and felt doubly surprised.

"Minister Fudge! I really am sorry," Jennifer said flustered.

"Quite all right, I shouldn't have been standing so close. Forgive me, I'd pause for introductions, but I need to see this young woman out. Perhaps we'll meet again," he nodded at her before the two of them headed to the door.

The woman glanced back at her again as they left, but didn't say a word. It was then that she noticed that several of the pub's regulars had gathered in a group near the bar, shaking their heads towards the door.

"Somethin' not right about Muggles wanderin' in so often. I coulda' sworn she'd been in here afore too. Ye really need t' work on security around here," one of them said to bartender.

"Isn't my fault one gets in every now an' then. We get strangers all the time in here, you know. Blimey, who's that?" he asked, and all of them gazed over at Jennifer.

"Professor Jennifer Craw, from Hogwarts," she said, stepping up. "Sorry if I startled anyone. Which way to the Alley?"

Several wizards jumped up at once offering to show her, until the bartender finally called them to order, wiping his hands off on his apron before taking her to the back.

"Ye'll have to forgive them, Professor, not many witches as lovely as you stop long enough to chat," he grinned at her, tapping on the brick wall in the alley behind the Cauldron, watching the pink appear in her cheeks. "If you need anything, just feel free to drop by, we don't bite. First drink is on the house; my name's Tom."

"Thanks Tom," Jennifer smiled. "I'll make sure to drop by then," she assured him before stepping into the alley. The bartender went back inside as the crowd at the bar followed him back with their eyes.

"Tom, what are you thinking? Didn't year hear what the woman said? She's a Craw!" Doris whispered to him. "You know what a bad sort they are!"

"Nonsense, Doris. She didn't do anything but ask where the Alley is, and Hagrid says she's the all right sort," Tom said. "Besides, I wouldn't have cared if she was the devil's daughter, with those looks she can have me escort her to the Alley any time." A loud chuckle erupted in the group, turning their attentions back to their drinks.

Jennifer drummed her fingers in the accountant's room as she finally got one of the goblins' attention. But the moment she had seen they were goblins, she knew she wasn't going to get anywhere trying to dig up her father's old business records, and she was right.

"Records are closed even to family members without a written will until off efficient age after the owner's death to render them inconsequential," the goblin told her firmly, trying to wave her away.

"And how long is that?" she asked, looking annoyed.

"Seven hundred years."

"Seven hundred years? That long?" Jennifer said, getting hushed by the goblins when her voice rose. "I don't have any options at all? Surely there's an exception."

"Oh, yes. If the deceased comes forward and gives you his or her consent, you can have access to the records," the goblin admitted.

"Oh gee, thanks. That's really helpful," Jennifer said dully, walking away from the counter and out into the lobby.

It was then she spotted Severus Snape, standing beside a well-dressed platinum blonde gentleman. They were talking near the carts at the vault entry, and Jennifer suddenly had little wish to have to explain what she was doing outside of the school when Dumbledore had asked her to stay close. Quickly she slipped out of the door, hoping that she had not been seen. Unfortunately, she hadn't been as successful as she had hoped. Lucius Malfoy and Severus suddenly stepped away from the window, apparently having a heated argument before returning their attention to the business at hand.