Holmes and Snape fussed at each other like two old ladies, slapping each other's hands out of the way, snatching test tubes and beakers and retorts from one another:
"Go to!"
"Snape, must you put your beak into my reagent solution?"
"Bugger off!"
"Get away, get away from that distillery, you'll ruin it!"
"Stop that, you old stoat! Stop breathing into my cauldron!"
"Get your big Celtic hands off my magnifier, you oaf!"
In fact, they were having the most splendid time: they had discovered in each other a like, brilliant mind. They made a tacit if unvoiced agreement to present a hostile and adversarial appearance, but they had forged the beginnings of an association of geniuses.
They agreed that the unfortunate victims had suffered from hypoxia – but they had not drowned, neither had they been strangled. Holmes' haemoglobin determination had proven that lack of oxygen had killed the men, and Snape had confirmed that there was no detectable presence of poison. However, he continued to work on tissue and body fluid samples for clues relating to the time of death and the cause, as some poisons accomplished their murderous task and then dissipated.
Holmes obtained a sample of the singed carpet fibres and was hard at work determining whether or not the singeing was related to the murder. At the same time, he found that the edges of the deceased's robes were also slightly singed, quite evenly. How had the corpses come to Hogwarts? Were they corpses when they arrived, or live beings?
Holmes resolved to investigate any unusual comings and goings during the past several days.
"Now, Snape, what about delivery-men and workmen coming to the castle? I walked over without any difficulty. "
"No-one can get past the wards without our allowing them entrance," answered Snape. "You were expected, or you would not even have seen the castle when you exited the Forbidden Forest."
'Indeed," answered Holmes. "Let us speak to anyone who might notice someone on the edge of the property, someone who might have slipped past the wards and then walked casually through the grounds, as if they belonged there."
"If anyone, Wizard or Muggle, attempts to breach the wards surrounding Hogwarts and its property, the alarms begin to sound," said Snape. "You were expected, and the wards were set to recognise you."
"Hum," said Holmes. "If anyone had attempted an intrusion, of course the alarms would have been tripped. But, " he slouched down in his chair, propped his feet on a footstool and steepled his fingers, "we've agreed that there is no lock – or charm, if you will – that can't be broken – or picked. " He proceeded to give Snape a demonstration of his expertise with the picklocks on an unwarded, locked Potions cabinet. Snape was entranced.
"Fascinating! Although, Holmes, I don't know if you can say the same for magical locks." He thought a moment. "Well, why not? I've undone spells and curses numerous times, and as it is said, there is nothing new under the Sun."
Holmes leant forward, his grey eyes narrowed. "What if…someone who ordinarily comes to Hogwarts came in, as usual? "
"What do you mean? Are you speaking of delivery men, or Hogsmeade merchants who have business at the Castle?" Snape leant forward towards Holmes.
"Exactly!" said the detective. "Now, the groundskeeper – Hagrid, is it? Anyone making a delivery would have to report to him, is that correct? He would know if someone came to Hogwarts on the day the corpses appeared."
Snape stood up. "Hagrid knows everyone who comes to Hogwarts from the outside," he said. "I doubt he'll have much to say, but you can ask him. I have little patience with interviews, and I must be off. I have, er, obligations to address. We'll meet in the laboratory as usual, to-morrow morning. "
Holmes' eyes gleamed. "It's all in the method, all in the method, my dear Snape. I shall conduct the interview; I shall beard the half-giant in his den."
"Very well," said Snape. He swirled out of the door. Odd, thought Holmes, or maybe not so odd; Snape didn't look well at all. The man has no palate, not fond of his victuals, Holmes mused. His observant eye had noticed Snape's cadaverous thinness and dreadful colour, his nervous mannerisms and, for the past hour, the Wizard's unconscious rubbing at his forearm. Neuralgia, perhaps. A good physic would work wonders. Holmes tucked his note-pad into his rucksack, slung it over his shoulder and headed for Hagrid's hut.
Holmes knocked on the heavy wooden door. Loud barking, baying and growling sounded immediately. What the devil's he got in there? Holmes wondered. Holmes could see a bottle-bottom glass pane set too high in the door for him to peer into; probably, it was the half-giant's peep-hole, for the door opened, filled with Hagrid's huge bulk.
"Mr Holmes!" he boomed. "What can I do for yer? Come in!"
"Er, Hagrid, your hounds…"
"Pay him no mind, sir, that's just Fang, he likes company!" Hagrid grabbed Holmes' arm and dragged him inside. The hut seemed much larger inside than it had appeared from the outside: they stood in a large main room with a giant-sized fireplace, a heavy oaken table with six chairs, a large settee, and in front of the fire, two enormous armchairs with footstools in front of them and small tables next to them. On one side there was another table, with what looked like kitchen utensils, bowls and pots; a rack hung over this table, on the rack were skillets, spiders, colanders and such. Cabinets, cupboards and shelves lined the walls; the half-giant obviously lived a comfortable life.
The fire was blazing, and a teakettle on the hob began to whistle. "Come in, come in!" urged Hagrid, tugging Holmes towards the round oak table. "Ye're just in time for tea, and I've got fresh rock-cakes!"
Holmes looked around for the source of the ominous canine chorus, and his eyes came to rest on Fang, a large, untidy hound of indeterminate heritage, lying on his back, his feet in the air, his tail wagging vigorously, his head on the side, tongue lolling, in that idiotically endearing way dogs have when they are pleased. "Sit down, sir," said the half-giant, bustling around in search of the teapot. "I'll have the tea ready in a moment, or would yer prefer a short snort instead?" Hagrid chuckled at his joke and retrieved an enormous jug of Old Ogden's Firewhiskey from the side table.
He brought it over, found two beer steins and plumped himself down. Leaning over conspiratorially, he said, "Lots o' surprises for ye, eh, Mr Holmes? I wager ye never saw anythin' like Hogwarts before!"
"Indeed," answered Holmes. "Hagrid, much as I would enjoy hearing of your adventures, and I am sure they are many, I have come to ask you but one question."
The half-giant chuckled. "I don't know as I got answers, sir. Sometimes I thinks that questions just bring 'round more questions."
"Yes, yes, that is profound, Hagrid, and quite true. Please do try to remember, if you would, who came to the castle on Thursday."
Hagrid looked at him oddly. "There's many who comes every day, but Thursday, ah, Thursday," He poured whiskey into the beer steins and shoved one in front of Holmes. "Let's drink to the mystery!" he boomed, hoisting his glass.
Holmes regarded his drink, a stein full of Ogden's that would drop Watson on his bum, but he was made of sterner stuff. He raised the stein, touched it to Hagrid's, and said, "To the solution of the mystery!
Hagrid began to tick off Thursday's visitors on his fingers: "Lessee, there was Brown Tom the dairyman, he's always first right after sunrise. Ye can hear his bottles clinkin' and clankin' as he drives his wagon up to the side door where the house-elves takes in the milk an' cream an' butter and such."
"And you saw him personally?"
"O'course I seen him! Didn't he give me
my milk and cheese, you?'"
"Good, so Brown Tom came as always. Did you see him leave?"
Hagrid leaned back in his chair and regarded Holmes with a suspicious eye. "Why?" he asked.
Holmes took a sip of whiskey. "My good man, in trying to solve a mystery we must account for everyone who was already in the place, those who came and those who left." He put his finger alongside his nose, narrowed his eyes and leaned over to Hagrid: "Who knows what evil lurks in the minds of men!"
Hagrid's already round eyes popped. "Cor!" he exclaimed. "Ye're right, Mr Holmes, o'course. Well, I seen Brown Tom drivin' off in his wagon, made note for to tell him his horse is fetchin' up to be lame, an' I'll make 'im a poultice."
And so it went, Holmes patiently instructing Hagrid in the correct way to respond to a detective's questions, drawing out information the half-giant did not realise he possessed, and obtaining a good feel for the daily commerce of Hogwarts Castle.
They had finished their whiskey, Holmes' self-discipline the only thing that kept him from collapsing where he sat and mumbling into his empty stein, and it was full dark. Holmes realised that they had been talking for about three hours; they had probably missed dinner. Hagrid was becoming increasingly uneasy.
Holmes, ever sensitive to the inclinations of others, said, "Hagrid, you seem perturbed. Have I kept you over-long from your evening duties?"
Hagrid looked slightly relieved, but still shifted back and forth on his chair. "I have to run some errands for Headmaster Dumbledore," he said.
"Perhaps I can accompany you," offered Holmes. "I could use the exercise, and it would be useful to the case for me to learn more about the comings and goings at Hogwarts."
Hagrid sighed. "It's a quick run, Mr Holmes, but it's in the Forbidden Forest, and the Headmaster says I am to keep yer out of it. I'll take Fang; it'll be just a short while. Stay here, why don't yer, nice an' snug by the fire, and I'll be back pretty quick."
"Very well, I shall await your return," said Holmes. The half-giant threw a huge cloak over his frame, whistled for Fang, and man and beast made off in the direction of the Forest.
Holmes stood up and quietly let himself out of the cottage. Fortunately Hagrid was still in sight; moving like a wraith from tree to tree, and Holmes shadowed the half-giant's movements.
There was no doubt that the Forbidden Forest was an ugly place. Bats flitted about; owls hooted; thick spider-webs clung unpleasantly to his face and clothing. Holmes tripped over a thick root; when he regained his footing, Hagrid was nowhere to be found. Holmes was a Londoner, a city boy, and although he had traversed his share of forests, none were as ominous as this one. I shall return to the cottage, he thought, and turned about. However, in fifteen minutes or so he tripped over the same root: he had been walking in a circle.
Far be it from Holmes to admit that he was lost. I shall find a clearing, look up at the sky and triangulate my position from the North Star, thought he, rummaging in his pockets for his compass and a couple of lucifers. He had just found his clearing when he heard a dragging noise. Quickly, he flattened himself against a tree and held his breath. Then he heard a human sound: panting. Hagrid lumbered into sight, panting, dragging what seemed to be a human being on an improvised slide made out of his cloak.
Homes stepped out in front of him. "Hagrid," he said sternly, "what or who have you there?"
"Oh, Mr Holmes," gasped the big man, "He's so poorly off I'm feared he might die this time! Help me get him to the castle, we got to get him to Madam Pomfrey!"
Holmes quickly approached the prone figure. He struck a lucifer against the sole of his shoe and held it aloft. It was Professor Snape, unconscious, and from the looks of him, beaten half to death.
Holmes helped Hagrid to sling Snape's unconscious body across his back, and together they set off at a run for the castle. Hagrid began to shout when they were still a good number of paces away, but his booming voice caused doors and windows to fly open, and as they approached the big double doors, Madam Pomfrey ran towards them with her two nurse aides, a stretcher in mid air between them.
"Oh, poor Severus, not again!" Madam Pomfrey pulled her wand out of her sleeve: "Wingardium Leviosa!" she pronounced, and Snape's body levitated off Hagrid's shoulders and onto the stretcher. Then, they set off for the hospital wing, Holmes and Hagrid trailing behind.
Madam Pomfrey manoeuvred the stretcher over to a bed, pulled the curtains around it, and waved Holmes and Hagrid away: "You can see him later, after I've had a chance to get him stabilised." She sneezed, looked surprised, buried her face in a large linen handkerchief, and disappeared inside the curtains, followed by her aide, Sister Brigit. Holmes leaned against a statue of a Crusader Knight and fixed Hagrid with his steely eyes. "My good man, you might as well tell me everything," he said evenly.