At breakfast, Draco was telling his first-year friends -- and anyone else who would listen -- about his heroic exploits during the detention. "Longbottom nearly got himself killed, so Hagrid took him off my hands and put Potter and I together -- I was all for going in alone, but they wanted someone to watch out for the Gryffindors --"
"Weren't you scared, Draco?" Pansy simpered, brushing a strand of hair out of her puggish face fetchingly.
Draco puffed out his chest a bit. "It's a scary place," he said reassuringly, "but I reasoned that anyone killing unicorns wouldn't be interested in killing people. It was only dangerous for them, you see."
Pansy and Blaise giggled at each other. "Clever," Blaise chirped sweetly.
From halfway across the table, a much healthier-looking Richard perked up his ears. "Someone's killing unicorns?" he asked Riggs beside him.
"Draco says there have been two or three killings," Riggs reported with bland efficiency, nose buried in the economics section of the Daily Prophet.
Richard made a noise that indicated that he found that very interesting.
Most of the Slytherins seemed enthralled with Draco's story, bursting into roars of laughter as he described how the Potter boy had fainted and needed to be saved by a centaur ("Vulgar creatures. They want to live like beasts"), but Beth listened half-heartedly to Draco's description of a terrible figure with bloodstained cloaks until he mentioned the ungainly height.
"What?"
"Dreadfully proportioned," Draco repeated, with a delighted shudder. "As if -- well, almost as if his head were twice as long as it ought to be."
Beth sat up, suddenly alert. She opened her mouth to speak, but caught a glimpse of Richard out of the corner of her eye and instead mustered a disinterested cough. Draco and his admirers didn't notice the light bulb go off over her head, which was just as well; some things were to be divulged only to the SSA. But wouldn't they be excited when they found out what she had only just realized --
The killer of unicorns was the same creature who had broken into Gringott's.
It made such clear sense that Beth felt as if she'd been knocked over. That gangling figure, with the large head, was obvious from even a glimpse; she'd never seen anything with such an odd shape. And the things they were after ... once unicorn blood, once a Sorcerer's Stone. The two had such similar properties, she realized excitedly. Whatever tried to steal the Stone and killed unicorns wanted one thing: to live.
This wasn't just someone with a hankering for a few more years of life. This creature -- criminal -- was desperate. It needed strength badly, if it was trying to get it from two very dangerous sources. It was as if ... winning life was worth the risk of death.
The thought followed her through all of her classes. They spun by quickly, and she was hardly aware of taking notes; her mind worked over the problem time and time again. After they got out of Care of Magical Creatures, which was a boring lecture about how Chizpurfles can infest dirty cauldrons, Melissa starting berating her for not paying attention.
"This late in the year! Finals are just around the corner! And it's never too late to start studying for the O.W.L.s. Two years, you know!"
"You sound like that snobby Gryffindor, wotsername, Granger," Bruce grunted at Melissa. Granger was well-known for being a very bright and often irritating know-it-all.
Melissa scowled.
As they wound around the labyrinth of corridors, Beth made herself focus on other things. Melissa was excited about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. "I could use the vacation -- and so could you," she said, nudging Beth a little. Beth smiled wanly.
"Look out, he's coming through," Bruce murmured to them, and pulled up short.
The Bloody Baron hovered past, eyes unfocused and grim in a drawn, dead face. The three drew back and let him pass. Beth watched him drift down the hall, stained cloak billowing, powdered wig high on his forehead... and then he floated through the corridor wall.
Just as the ungainly figure at Gringott's had done.
Beth's mouth fell open. "The wall!" she blurted. She whirled on Melissa and Bruce, eyes aflame. "Where's Richard?"
Melissa stepped back. "In the common room," she answered uncertainly. "Are you all right --?"
The question was left hanging as Beth bolted down the hall to the common room.
"RICHARD!"
Beth slammed her fist down on Richard's scroll. His inkwell went flying; little specks of ink splattered all over his robes and face. "What the --" he cried angrily, rising to his feet, but one glance at Beth's face caused him to draw back and shut his mouth.
"Draco's told me about his detention," she snarled furiously. "There's something in the forest killing unicorns and drinking their blood. They told us in D.A.D.A that you can use it to keep you alive. But you know what they never told us? Unicorn blood is silver. Did you ever notice, Rich, that the Bloody Baron's robes don't have dark stains on them -- they're stained silver? Don't answer, I think you have noticed."
Richard sat back down cautiously. "Well ... yes..."
Beth made as if to strike the table again, and Richard flinched backward. "Knock it off with the secrecy!" she almost screamed. "If something's killing unicorns, there's a great danger on the Hogwarts grounds. I think it's the Baron. Now for heaven's sake, Richard, who -- what -- is the Bloody Baron?"
To Beth's astonishment and fury, a look of relief washed over Richard's face. "Easy there," he said, almost with a laugh. "The Bloody Baron isn't killing unicorns."
"But it all makes sense ... if he drinks the blood he can come back to life for long enough to steal the Sorcerer's Stone and make the Elixir of Life. I mean since he can't really touch things now he can't get the Stone..."
"...Then how can he be killing things?" Richard said.
Beth stopped short. "What?"
"If he can't even lift the Stone now, how can he kill something like a unicorn? And if he did manage that, it wouldn't help, because ghosts can't drink."
"How do you know?"
Richard scanned the room to be sure no one else was around. He wiped his lips nervously.
"Don't do this, Richard, or I'm going to pound first and then ask."
Looking a little squeamish, Richard rolled up the sleeve of his robe. The thick cuts on his forearm had healed, but a few of them remained scabby and white. "I'm telling you, he can't drink," he said quietly. "But almost -- when he tries -- he can taste..."
Beth gaped at Richard in horror. She felt her stomach plummet, as if she had been force-fed ice water. "You mean ... when the Baron wants payment, he really wants..."
Richard nodded grimly. "Blood."
"But if he can't -- I mean, what does he do with it?"
"The Bloody Baron doesn't look human because he never was," Richard said, rolling his sleeve back down. "In life he was merely undead. He was a vampire."
Shaken, Beth found herself glancing over her shoulder.
"He found out about the properties of unicorn blood, and thought it would restore him to life. Instead, it poisoned his body and freed his ghost -- perpetuating his existence, but at enormous cost. He died almost immediately after killing the unicorn. That's why he's stained with its blood."
"But he still wants ... to..."
She couldn't say it.
Richard shrugged, looking a little nauseated. "It's probably what he misses most about life. If he passes though a cup or so of blood, over and over, he can faintly pick up the taste. The Fat Friar will tell you as much about any other kind of food. I'm sure it's the same. He's furious with the living, he thinks he was murdered instead of the other way around. He really enjoys haggling the highest price he can."
Beth narrowed her eyes. "Where did you hear all this?"
"It's in the Ledger. Along with half the secrets of the castle, and clues to the other half."
"All right," Beth said, taking a deep breath. "It wasn't the Baron then. But you know..."
Richard raised his eyebrows.
"...There's still a unicorn-killer, and we don't even have a guess on who it is."
Astonishingly, Richard's eyes lit up, and a broad grin creased his face. "That's the spirit!" he cried. "There's always something more to find out. We'll bring it up at the meeting tomorrow. Until then, do research on who would benefit from unicorn's blood and come up with some theories. Get the other third-years to help. You'll be presenting at eleven thirty. See you then!" He gathered his scattered things and set off up the boy's corridor, still speckled with ink.
"Oy, Beth, you look like you've seen a ghost," Uther said cheerfully from behind her. "Did you ever find Richard?"
Beth jumped. She hadn't heard anyone come in. "Yeah ... yeah, thanks."
"Clever. If you see Bruce, let him know we're practicing early, eh?"
She nodded. "And if you see him first, tell him we just got another homework assignment, due tomorrow night."