Disclaimer: It is said that I own many things, such as the Statue of Liberty, Barney the Dinosaur, and Peanut Butter MnMs. Sadly, along with the Harry Potter characters, I do not.

Author's Note: Thank you again for all the glorious reviews! A lot of people have been saying that maybe Umbridge could be Mrs. Body. And while that was not the original idea I had in mind- mine being that it was a totally unknown person- I like the idea a lot. The only problem being that none of the guests seemed to recognize her. Another thought could be that she was Aunt Marge, except for the fact that she's a muggle. But I like that idea too. No matter how you look at it, feel free to come up with your own justifications and reasonings behind the identity of Mrs. Body. So, on that thought, chapter four...

IV.

In Which They Decide To Search the House

The guests again entered the study, this time carrying the truly dead Mrs. Body. Mr. White, Mr. Scarlet, Professor Plum and Viktor holding each of the limbs. They laid her down in front of the couch before returning to the dead house elf still lying in the doorway. Miss Green carried her over and placed her carefully on the sofa. However, they all saw that as she leaned against the sofa, the knife leaned further into her.

"How do we do this?" Miss Green asked, "The dagger will go further and further into her back."

"Tip her over the arm of the sofa," Colonel Mustard ordered, and they obliged leaning the little creature over the arm so that the dagger now stood straight into the air.

Wadsworth entered with Mr. Peacock, both gingerly pressing their heads and walking a bit dazedly.

"Don't get blood on the sofa," Wadsworth cautioned as she walked past.

The guests then looked down at the enormous woman at their feet. Each of the men, excluding poor Mr. Peacock because he was still recovering from his small fainting fit, lifted Mrs. Body onto the couch, not with the greatest ease.

"Now," Colonel Mustard said, pausing as she looked into the open eyes of Mrs. Body. She closed the eyelids and began again. "Who had access to the candlestick?"

"All of us," Mr. Scarlet said quickly.

"It was given to you," Mr. White expressed passionately.

"Yeah," Mr. Scarlet continued, "but I dropped it on the table. Any one of us could have picked it up. You, him..."

"Look," Wadsworth said, setting her ice pack on the table, "We still have all these weapons. The gun, the rope, the wrench, the lead pipe..." she picked up the weapons from the floor and several people handed them to her. "I suggest we put them all in this cupboard and lock it. There's a homicidal maniac about."

The six all voice their assent.

"And," Wadsworth said, "as an added precaution..." he looked about, nervous about his next suggestion, "I think we should all lock up our wands, just in case."

There were several outbursts of protest, but most of the members handed over their wands readily. Once each weapon and each wand was securely locked in the cupboard, they all sighed, relieved that the immediate danger was closed behind the wooden cabinet door. Wadsworth stepped back and put the key in her pocket.

"What are you doing with the key?" Miss Green asked.

"Putting it in my pocket."

"Why?"

"To keep it safe, obviously."

"But that means you can open it whenever you want," Mr. Peacock stood, removing his jacket in a frenzy.

"It also means you can't," Wadsworth replied, a hand placed securely over the pocket that held the key.

"But what if you're the murderer?" cried Mr. Peacock passionately.

"I'm not."

"But what if you are?" Colonel Mustard said.

"I know," said Wadsworth suddenly, "we'll throw it away!"

"Wonderful!" cried Professor Plum, and others voiced similar axioms.

They ran to the front door where Wadsworth raised the key above her head to fire it from the house, flinging the door opened.

They all stepped back at the sight that met them. A young woman with jet-black hair, soaking wet, recoiled at Wadsworth's threatening stance.

"Sorry," Wadsworth murmured, then smiled warmly, "Sorry. Can we help?"

The other guests gathered around the butler and smiled similarly.

"I'm sorry," the woman said, straightening herself, "I didn't mean to disturb the whole household. Is that...?" she stopped as she looked at all the many familiar faces. "Oh goodness, I'm so glad this is a wizarding residence, I was flying overhead and my broom got caught in a tree, out of nowhere... well, I suppose it was silly for me to be flying in such a storm as it is... anyway, I tried to apparate, but this must be non-apparating zone, because I couldn't. So, I was wondering if I could use your floo, or...?" the woman stopped at the intense stares she was being dealt by the eight people standing before her.

"Actually," Wadsworth said, sounding as warm and welcoming as she could muster, "all magical activity is restricted in this area, and its been closed down. Just a moment please."

Wadsworth turned to face the group and they all leaned in, whispering feverishly amongst themselves and glancing up every few moments at the arrival, who seemed to be growing more and more uneasy. Finally, they seemed to come to a decision and stood back, all smiling at the woman.

"Very well, Madam," Wadsworth said, raising her voice ever so slightly and tilting her head friendly, "We have a telephone, if you'd like to use that." The woman nodded curtly. "Would you care to come in?" Wadsworth asked, stepping aside to make room for the young woman to step into the house.

"Yes, thank you very much," the black-eyed woman responded, smiling at the unexpected hospitality. She stepped into the house and Wadsworth closed the door behind her. "Well," she asked, looking about the great room, "where is it?"

"What? The body?" Wadsworth asked without a thought. The group jumped at the words.

"The phone," said the young woman, becoming agitated by the atmosphere created by the nervous group of people, "what body?"

"There's no body," Wadsworth said, and then tried to correct herself "There's no body... nobody..." she frantically thought of how to recover, "There's nobody in the study."

"No!" the whole assembly chorused.

"But I think there's a phone in the lounge," said Wadsworth, smiling.

"Thank you," the woman turned and allowed Wadsworth to lead her to the lounge.

"When you've finished your call," Wadsworth said as the young woman walked into the lounge, "I hope you'll be kind enough to wait here."

She nodded and Wadsworth left, locking the door behind her.

"Where's the key?" asked Miss Green, slamming Wadsworth into the door.

"In my pocket," she said quietly.

"Not that key," Professor Plum said, "the key to the cupboard... with the weapons."

"Do you still wish me to throw it away?"

The lot of them shouted their approval and pushed her forward to the front door, in which she removed a key from her pocket and threw it across the way, where it landed in the gutter.

As she reentered, Mr. Peacock went up to her, with all but tears in his eyes.

"Wadsworth," he said desperately, "Let me out."

"No," she answered.

"Why not?"

"We've got to know who did it; we're all in this together now."

"If you leave," sneered Mr. White, "I'll say you killed them both."

"Me too!" shouted the rest in varying terms.

"Oh Wadsworth," he said, stroking a hand across her face, "I'll make you sorry you ever started this. One day, when we're alone together..."

"Mr. Peacock, no woman in her right mind would be alone together with you."

He gasped, offended at the inference.

"I could use a drink," said Colonel Mustard beginning to make her way down the hall, but stopped to look into the study. "Just checking," she explained.

"Everything all right?" asked Mr. White.

"Yup, two corpses, everything's fine."

They congregated once more in the library where Colonel Mustard poured out the drinks and approached Wadsworth.

"Wadsworth, am I right in thinking that there is nobody else in this house?"

"No."

"So there is someone else in this house?"

"Sorry, I said no meaning yes."

"No meaning yes?" she straightened herself before continuing, "Look, I want a straight answer. Is there someone else or isn't there, yes or no?"

"No."

"No there is, or no there isn't?"

"Umm..." Wadsworth thought for a moment, "Yes."

Becoming rapidly more frustrated by the second, Miss Green shattered her glass against the wall, "Please!" she howled, "Don't you think we should get that man out of this house before he finds out what's been going on here?"

"Yeah," Mr. Scarlet agreed.

"How can we throw him outside in this weather?" Professor Plum pointed out.

"If we let him stay in the house, he may get suspicious," Miss Green defended her case.

"If we throw him out he may get even more suspicious," Professor Plum continued to argue.

Mustard broke in, "If I were him, I'd be suspicious already."

"Oh, who cares?" Mr. Peacock screamed, "That guy doesn't matter. Let him stay, locked up for another half an hour. The police will be here by then and there are two dead bodies in the study!"

"Shhh," the group grew instantly aware of the man's presence in the room directly next to theirs.

"Well there is still some confusion as to whether there is anybody else in this house," Colonel Mustard turned back to Wadsworth.

"I told you there isn't."

"There isn't any confusion, or there isn't anybody else?"

"Either... or both."

"Just give me a clear answer!"

"Certainly..." she thought for a moment, "What was the question?"

"Is there anybody else in this house?" she finally howled.

Quite fed up with the two of them, the other six screamed back, "No!"

"It's what she says," Colonel Mustard said, walking slowly through the room, "but does she know? I suggest we handle this in proper military fashion, we split up and search the house."

"Split up?" shrieked Mr. Peacock.

"Yes, we have very little time, so we'll split up into pairs."

"Pairs?" Professor Plum stepped forward, "but suppose that one of us is the murderer? If we split up into pairs, whichever one of us is left with the killer might get killed."

"Then we would have discovered who the murderer is!" the Colonel justified loudly.

"But the other half of the pair would be dead," Mr. Peacock shrilled.

"This is war, Peacock," she strutted forward to him, "You cannot cook an omelette without breaking eggs, every cook will tell you that."

"But look what happened to the cook?" Mr. Peacock bit his fist and retreated to a corner.

"Colonel," Mr. Scarlet asked, getting himself what seemed to be his third whiskey, "are you willing to take that chance?"

"What choice have we?"

"None," Viktor said from the fireplace.

"I suppose you're right," Mr. Scarlet nodded.

"I suggest we all draw lots," Wadsworth said, taking a bundle of matches from the fireplace.

In the kitchen, she carefully cut two at a time, creating four equal pairs. Then she spun around and arranged them in her hand.

"Ready?" she asked, extending her hands slowly, "The two shortest together, the next two shortest, agreed?"

The company nodded.

"And I suggest the shortest search the cellar and so on, up."

Each member went forward to draw their separate matchstick and when they were done, searched to find their partner. It appeared that Colonel Mustard and Mr. White would be searching the cellar, Mr. Scarlet and Professor Plum the ground floor, Mr. Peacock and Miss Wadsworth the second story, and Viktor and Miss Green the attic. Each looked more or less apprehensive with their ally.

They left the kitchen and Wadsworth pointed out the cellar, which Colonel Mustard and Mr. White retreated into and continued up the stairs followed by Mr. Peacock, Viktor, and Miss Green. Mr. Scarlet and Professor Plum stood in the middle of the hall looking at the many closed doors.

"We know what's in the study," Mr. Scarlet said, "and we just came from the library and the stranger locked up in the lounge..."

"Let's go through the billiard room again," Professor Plum said, turning into the room.

Upstairs, thunder crashed as Wadsworth showed Viktor and Miss Green the door to the attic, giving Miss Green the key, and continued on to the rooms ahead, looking disquietedly now and then at her partner, who happened to be doing to the same.

Miss Green turned the key gently in the door before opening it to reveal a second staircase. She closed the door behind her and locked it after lighting a candle in the sconce on the wall. She placed the key delicately in her pocket before turning to the narrow staircase in front of them.

"Do you want to go up in front of me?" Viktor asked Miss Green.

"Absolutely not."

"I'm sure there's nothing up there."

"Then you go in front."

"Alright," he said, bracing himself.

The cellar door swung slowly open for Mustard and White and they both entered cautiously. When the door shut it left them in the pitch black, hearing only the other's breath.

"Ladies first," White whispered icily.

"No," Colonel Mustard said, "No, you can go first."

"What are you afraid of," he asked mockingly, "a fate worse than death?"

"Just death, isn't that enough?"

They both stood silently for a moment before Mr. White took a step forward, plunging down a long staircase, forcing Colonel Mustard to back up to the wall behind her, holding her breath. White reached and found the light switch revealing a large wine cellar. The Colonel momentarily joined him.

Mr. Peacock and Cambri Wadsworth stood at the front of two doors leading into the same master bedroom.

"Are you going in there?" Mr. Peacock asked hesitantly, approaching his door.

"Yes, are you?"

"Yes."

They both leaned in slowly.

"I don't see any light switches in there," Wadsworth said, coming back out of the room.

"Me neither, but there must be switches somewhere," Peacock did the same.

"Right."

They both slowly took a single step into the room before throwing themselves out again, pointing a finger accusingly at the other.

Mr. Scarlet and Professor Plum checked beneath the bar in the billiard room, finding it clear. They were silent as they walked to the pool table, leaning on it just slightly. Mr. Scarlet reached overhead and took down a pool stick, which he juggled in his hand for a moment, presenting a dread to Professor Plum. She put her hands in front of her defensively until she realized the stick was not for her. She exhaled in relief as they both looked at the pool table, holding a mutual thought. They leaned down and found it clear.

After deciding the billiard room was safe, they moved on, Mr. Scarlet inspecting the kitchen, Professor Plum the ballroom, to save time.

In the attic, Viktor and Miss Green held their still stationary positions at the bottom of the staircase.

"Go on," Miss Green whispered, "I'll be right behind you."

"That's why I'm nervous," he said.

"Then we'll go together?"

He nodded and they made their way up the staircase, turning their bodies sideways so as to fit in the narrow passage. It grew darker as they made their way up and Viktor could feel the lean body of his counterpart leaning into him, he could smell her hair and feel the silk of her dress in his hands.

"So," he whispered, taking hold of the doorknob and blowing her hair away from her ear, "Are you really gay?"

Miss Green sighed and pushed him back from her into the wall with a thud. She opened the door to the attic and slammed it on him, locking it.

"I'll take that as a yes," Viktor sighed to himself, making it halfway down the flight of steps before he realized that she had locked that door as well. He sat down mid-staircase and hit his head repeatedly against the wall.

As they looked through the wine cellar it appeared there was a second room far off to the side. The Colonel stumbled upon it while she was making her way around the endless amount of storage.

"What's that?" Mr. White asked as he heard the gasp from Colonel Mustard's side of the cellar.

"Must be a closet or something," she said, opening the door to reveal a room littered with boxes and junk everywhere. "I'll look through here, you keep checking that side of the cellar."

Mr. White nodded and returned a comfortable distance from the young woman.

A gloved hand turned the key to the weapons and opened the door. It moved quickly to retrieve the wrench.

The hand found its way to the desk with the written evidence of the guests' crimes. It threw them into the fireplace and watched them burn for a moment before turning back to its intentions.

The gloved hand entered the lounge, unbeknownst to the occupant, still chatting away on the telephone.

"I'm a little nervous," the feminine voice said in a lowered voice to the receiver, "I'm in this big house and I've been locked in the lounge. The funny thing is, there's this whole group of people here having some sort of party and one of them is my old boss from..."

The woman was silenced as the wrench fell. She staggered for a moment, her knees buckled, and she collapsed in a heap on the ground.

The gloved hand picked up the telephone, a worried voice at the other end, and placed it carefully back on the receiver

In the conservatory all seemed to be well, and Mr. Scarlet found it much more interesting to look at all the odd little planting devices in this apparently muggle mansion than search for a killer. Plum was across the way from him, searching through a trunk that seemed to house only a very long hose.

He leaned back against the wall only to find it cave in on him. He lost his feet and fell back into a passage behind the wall.

Professor Plum ran to meet him and he stood up, wiping himself off.

"It must be a secret passageway," Plum said as she glanced into the access. "Should we see where it leads?"

"What the hell," Mr. Scarlet took a flashlight from the shelf beside him and fumbled to make it turn on, "I'll go first, I've had a good life."

They walked through the narrow passage, the professor clinging to Mr. Scarlet's shirt, much more anxious than her companion. A dim light shone some distance away, but steadily drew closer. Mr. Scarlet crawled through a square entranceway being blinded by the sudden light and Professor Plum followed him.

They had ended up in the lounge and the sight that they met caught them breathless and terrified. For, lying on the ground, her head smashed in, was the young traveler who had needed to use their telephone.

End Note: Next chapter I will reveal who the traveler (I am refraining from calling her a motorist because she was not, in fact, driving a car) was. I'd like you all to try to figure it out for now. I had the hardest time deciding when to end this chapter and I hope I chose a good place. Love you all and good night!