Edited 20th February 2014 to remove review responses and superfluous author's notes.

9. In Which A Murder is Discovered

It was dark, but then it was night, and the moon was not to be seen. The murder that Blaise could have prevented, had he only known, had yet to be discovered. The girl lay dead, a glance would be enough to tell even a casual observer that, but there was not a mark upon her still warm body. No human soul was around to see her, but someone watched her nevertheless. Her murderer stood, staring down upon her body, with a curious, unnatural smile forming on an unnaturally impassive face.

This would cause waves in the wizarding world. A student cut down on Hogwarts grounds, not a hundred yards away from Dumbledore himself; this was bound to make the news. Especially since this girl was not simply any student. Oh, no; his master had chosen well. At a single stroke, it would be brought home to the school, the Ministry and the world in general, that the Dark Lord was back with a vengeance.

He watched her silently for some minutes, as if afraid that, because he had killed her without a sound, she was not truly dead. He knew she was gone; he simply stared at her empty shell because he found the inactivity peaceful. In life she had been beautiful, though not quite fifteen. Had his plan not required a swift, silent kill, he might have delayed the death stroke for a while, to give him time to get to know his victim better…

The Dark Mark on his arm throbbed, reminding him of his duty. He must not get caught. He must leave the scene before anyone noticed what had happened. If he was caught here like this, he would be as good as dead. And so, reluctantly, the murderer slipped away from the scene of the crime, to be lost in the wreaths of mist that now obscured the castle from view.

Blaise Zabini was extremely bored. He hated this sort of party. He had enjoyed the fifteen minutes that Ginny Weasley had seen fit to devote entirely to him, but he had barely seen her since. Daniel, too, was stubbornly missing. He felt a little awkward and out of place. He cursed his best friend for leaving him alone in just the sort of situation he detested. He thought he caught sight of Daniel surrounded by his fan club, but even the thought of all those girls devoted to his friend made him angry. He decided to go outside to cool down.

It was not as cold as he had been expecting. It was pitch dark, though, and he was having considerable trouble finding his way. It was not late enough in the party for there to be couples out here, hiding in the bushes, but Blaise trod carefully nonetheless. The fog made it very hard to see, and as he rounded a corner, he tripped headlong over something disturbingly soft, lying in the path. He fell heavily, and rolled over, slightly winded.

He could see a dark shape, mysterious amongst the fog tendrils. He was seized with curiosity, and at the same time with a deep sense of dread. He reached into his inside pocket for his wand. Drawing it, he leant towards the shape and breathed:

"Lumos."

The world erupted in white light, making Blaise wince and close his eyes. He was not prepared for what he would see when he opened them. The girl's body lay perfectly still. He did not have to touch her to know that she was dead. He had stared on death before. Her face was fixed in a look of sheer terror. She had known she was going to die. But that was not the worst thing. He recognised her. She was the irritating fourth year who had been pestering him earlier.

He was shocked. Guilt flooded through him momentarily. If he had only gone with her, she might still be alive. Then the Slytherin shook his head, vigorously. That was a stupid thought to have. Had he gone with her, there would have been two bodies instead of one. He had no illusions about her death. It was murder, pure and simple, and probably on the orders of the Dark Lord. No Death Eater would have qualms about killing another innocent victim.

He had to raise the alarm. He felt terrible about this, but if someone saw him come in and say nothing about it, then he would be an obvious suspect. He didn't want everyone to know him as 'the boy who found the body.' He had also heard Ginny arguing with her brother Ron about him earlier, and knew that this would certainly not stand in his favour. He was bound to be suspected, if not by Dumbledore, by the other students. He was a Slytherin, and to a lot of people, that implied Death Eater.

Harry could not enjoy himself. He felt far too uneasy. Ron and Hermione were unworried by any of this; he hadn't told them. He couldn't tell anyone, now, because his scar hurting was perfectly normal. No one would take his premonition seriously, especially after his Divination OWL debacle. His eyes flickered restlessly around the Hall. Ron and Hermione were dancing, but he didn't feel in a partying mood.

Just then, a movement caught his eye. The Zabini boy half ran, half skidded into the Hall, eyes wide, sides heaving. No one except Harry had noticed him, until he opened his mouth, and breathlessly shouted:

"The Death Eaters have been here!"

The music stopped with a jolt, and as one being, everyone in the room turned to look at the sixth year, who coloured slightly at the attention.

"Explain yourself, Mr Zabini," hissed Snape, who had reluctantly been pressed into supervising the party.

Blaise's breathing had returned to normal. As calmly as he could, he raised his head to meet the teacher's dark, blank, tunnel-like eyes, and said: "There's been a murder, sir." A few people screamed, and the humming sound of a million whispers filled the enormous room.

"Silence!" shouted Snape. The noises all stopped. No one wanted to get on the wrong side of him at that particular moment, not even Draco Malfoy. "You have found a body, Mr Zabini?" Blaise nodded. "Show me."

"With all respect, Professor," said Dumbledore, who had been listening to the exchange and now took charge, "you and the other heads of house should take your students to the common rooms. I shall go with Mr Zabini and examine the body." He lowered his voice so that only Snape could hear. "Tell them to remain calm. If I know students, they won't, but we have to try. We'll just try and find out all we can as soon as possible."

Snape looked poisonous. "It's Blaise's fault, sir," he muttered, darkly. "He shouldn't have come barging in here like that, screaming for all to hear that someone was dead. And bringing the Death Eaters into it seems to me to be unnecessarily dramatic. I don't think that making assumptions like that is really wise."

Dumbledore smiled. "I have a great respect for the boy's intelligence, Severus. He has a way of seeing the truth that many others do not. I am afraid – and so are you – that this is indeed the work of Lord Voldemort." Snape winced. "And do not blame Blaise for breaking the news so badly. Finding the body of a fellow student must have shocked him. I am glad that he trusted us enough to come in here and tell us. I shall go with him now, and then I will call for the Minister. Murder is murder, even on Hogwarts ground, and Fudge must be informed."

Snape had nothing further to say. He merely swished off to supervise the Slytherins to their common room. Blaise stood alone, slightly to one side, being stared at by most of the students who passed. It was no surprise to Dumbledore that the boy hated their attention; he had observed most of the students at one time or other, and, like everyone else who knew Blaise, knew him to be exceptionally retiring. But only Dumbledore and Blaise himself knew why.

The Headmaster stepped over to join him. "Are you feeling alright, Blaise?" he asked, quietly. Blaise nodded, not trusting himself to speak out loud. "Take me to where you found the body." They began to walk, out of the Hall, out of the castle entirely, and into the night. "Do you know who it is?"

"I don't know her name, but I've seen her before." Blaise faltered. "She asked me to go with her on a walk outside, and I didn't want to. She walked away. I never saw her again, alive. It was frightening to see her dead. I felt guilty, almost as if I'd somehow caused her death."

"If she has indeed been murdered, then it is only the murderer who is to blame," said Dumbledore, seriously. "Innocent people should never blame themselves, Blaise. Never." Blaise looked up, startled, but said nothing.

They walked on in silence. Blaise concentrated hard on retracing his steps, to the extent that he very nearly tripped over her still form again. He extended his lit wand to illuminate the figure. He felt seized with a horrible numbed shock. It frightened him, he who had longed for death many times in the depths of his despair, to see the total stillness, the absent negativity that it truly was. He drew in a deep breath and tried to calm himself.

Dumbledore noticed the intake of breath, and felt relief. So long as the boy could feel an emotion in the face of death, he was satisfied. He looked down at the unmarked body himself, and his face became very grim. She was so young, and it had definitely been the Unforgivable that had killed her. This was murder. He had seen enough murder victims to know that. His eyes scanned over her face. It seemed so familiar…

Suddenly he realised who it was, and an exclamation escaped his lips before he could think. Blaise turned to look at him, surprised by the change in his Headmaster.

"What is it, sir?" he asked, looking at the girl and then into Dumbledore's eyes. If he wasn't mistaken, the old man had recognised this victim. "Do you know her?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I don't know her, but I know who she is. She's Leonora Fudge – the Minister for Magic's niece."