Chapter Two
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Somewhere Unplottable in Scotland
3/12/2005 3:15 PM
The sunlight streamed through the window into the headmaster's office, flashing across several spinning and whirling objects upon tables. The portraits mounted on the walls held quiet conversations with their neighbours, and a large phoenix sat preening upon his perch.
Behind the desk, leaning back in his purple overstuffed chair, the headmaster sat reading a rather odd Muggle book.
Putting down his copy of Magic for Dummies, Albus Dumbledore chuckled. "Oh, those precious Muggles," he exclaimed fondly.
Suddenly a click sounded on the glass window to the side of him. Turning, Albus saw a small tawny owl waiting somewhat impatiently to be let in. He quickly allowed it entry, stroking its feathers as it landed next to his hand on the desk. Removing its letter, he blinked as the bird flew swiftly away through the still opened window, apparently in no need of a reply.
Unrolling the parchment, Albus' face turned serious as he took at the content. Looking over the edge of the letter for a moment, the headmaster sat briefly in thought. Finally, he brought himself back to the present and standing, made his way to the fireplace.
With a toss of Floo Powder and a spoken name, Albus requested for one of his professor's presence. As he waited, the white-haired wizard walked back to his seat and sat heavily, summoning a pot of tea and a couple of cups.
After another minute, the fireplace flared and a dark form stepped out easily. With a scowl, Severus Snape brushed the soot off of his black robes, damning the mode of transportation under his breath. Finished with straightening his clothes, the Potion's master laid his gaze on the headmaster.
"Albus. Why did you call me up here?" Severus questioned, his voice holding its usual bite. "I was in the middle of a rather dangerous potion, that at any moment now may explode and down the entire castle."
"Well, at least in that case, we'll hear it, won't we?" Albus said, taking a lemon drop from his candy dish and offering one to the younger wizard.
With a venomous glare, Snape sat stiffly upon one of the chairs before the other's desk. Albus chuckled and bit into his own candy, pouring tea for both of them without asking if the Potion's master wanted any.
"Now, now, Severus," the headmaster started. "I am in need of your assistance."
"You are in need of plenty of help, Headmaster," Severus replied simply. "What can I do for you?"
Shaking his head in amusement, Dumbledore said, "I have just received a rather disturbing missive." His expression grew darker. "According to the Ministry of Magic's records archive, one of Hogwarts' former students was murdered last night."
"And this is of interest to me?" asked Snape, raising an eyebrow.
"Severus." Albus sighed. "It is of interest because I wish you to go investigate it."
Severus blinked. "You must be kidding, Albus. I am no Auror, nor a Muggle Inspector."
"I am quite aware of what you are, my boy," the headmaster replied, ignoring Snape's increased glare. "I need someone I trust to make sure this is an isolated incident and not someone after former Order members."
"Order members?" Severus questioned.
"Yes. Ms Pierce was a witch who moved to America after her schooling, and she joined the Order as a foreign ally," Albus explained. "Now, as your assistant has been teaching your classes quite well, I'm sure you can spare a short time to go see to this?"
Severus knew an order when he heard it. Nodding his head sharply, he asked, "Fine, is that all?"
"Yes," answered Albus. "Go set yourself up to go, and return here. I can explain more when you come."
Red Wing Apartments
34th Street
3/12/2005 10:30 AM
The three detectives made their way down the darkened hall, slipping into the last bedroom. Walking carefully nearer to the bed, James looked over the body sprawled across it. Nodding to the various scene investigators, he glanced around, noticing that nothing seemed out of place beyond the corpse.
Stabler walked up beside James, his own seasoned eyes taking in the scene. As the two men observed the bed, Benson moved around to the other side.
"Elliot, Black," Benson said, glancing up at them. "Come look at this."
James followed the older detective around the bed, looking where Benson was pointing. He noticed a red mark upon the arm of the victim, and leaned closer to see it better. Once he was able to see clearly, he blinked in surprise.
"What in the world?" James muttered, staring at the carved initials- PC.
"No one is sure, detective," a voice spoke behind the three colleagues. James turned to see the lead CSI. "We wanted to let you see it before we processed the body."
Elliot nodded, and moved off to speak with the man. Glancing briefly at Benson, James moved closer to the bed. The female lay upright, her clothes partway on, with a thin line across her throat.
"What do we think killed her?" he asked, looking back at Benson.
"We aren't quite sure, though it seems like some type of wire made the wound on her neck," Olivia answered. "We'll have to wait for the autopsy."
Morgue
3/12/2005 3:22 PM
"A garrote," Dr. Melinda Warner stated, holding up an x-ray to the lighted board. "See here how the wire cut into the anterior triangle. Based on the minimal damage shown on the skin, and the bruising near the spine, I would say that was the weapon used. Cause of death is asphyxia."
"Anything else you can tell us?" Elliot asked, glancing down at the opened body on the slab.
Dr. Warner shook her head. "Not at the moment. Toxicology has her blood work, but I doubt they'll find anything other than alcohol. She was otherwise healthy. The cut on her arm is the only wound present besides the fatal one, and seems to have been made post-mortem."
"Did the rape kit find anything?" inquired James, as he stood next to Benson. "Semen or any DNA?"
"I sent the samples I found to be processed, but whether it was rape, I couldn't tell you," Dr. Warner informed them. "There isn't any telltale bruising in the genital area, and I can't say if the man was the one to have strangled her."
"Was it exotica asphyxiation?" Benson questioned.
"I wouldn't say that," the medical examiner stated. "Most cases of that involve items such as ropes or scarves, things that don't cut into the tissue of the neck."
Stabler nodded his thanks, then gestured for the others to follow him out of the morgue. Walking through the white doors, they made their way to the elevator. As they entered the lift, James turned to the partners.
"When do you think the results will come back on the semen?" he asked.
"It could take a while," Elliot answered with a slight scowl. "Those damn technicians work them first come, first serve, and they are always piled sky high with requests." He turned to Benson. "Liv, did you take the vic's address book to evidence with her purse?"
"Yes," replied Olivia. "I'll make a call and get copies of the entries."
Quagmire's Vocal Academy
1233 Mars Avenue
3/12/2005 5:18 PM
James lead the way up a stone path towards a small building on the outskirts of the city. Reaching the door, he knocked lightly, almost afraid that the door would fall in if he hit too hard.
"Who's is it?" called out a gruff voice from within.
"NYPD," James responded through the wood.
The door slammed open abruptly, startling the detectives. Benson and Stabler placed their hands within easy reach of their handguns, but James merely smiled at the old man standing in the doorway.
"Are you Felic Quagmire?" James questioned amicably.
"Who's is asking?" the man asked sharply.
The detectives hold up their badges. James nodded at the others. "These are Detectives Benson and Stabler. I'm Detective Black. Can we come in?"
"Sure, yea's can. Yep, I's is Felic," Quagmire stated, ushering them into a dim entranceway. "Rights this way. It's easiers to see in here."
James agreed barely when he walked into the front room. Dark wallpaper was peeling from the walls, and the furniture was moth-eaten. The light was indeed bright through the windows, but the dark interior seemed to swallow it.
"Sir, we're here investigating a possible homicide. We'd like to ask you a few questions," Olivia said, following James into the room.
"Sures. Fire away," responded Quagmire, taking a seat in an ancient easy-chair.
"Did you tutor a Ms. Anabelle Pierce? Your name was written in her address book," Stabler began.
Quagmire nodded. "Sures. I haves her here every Tuesday. You aren't saying she's the ones whos been hurt?"
"I'm afraid she was found dead this morning," James told him. "We are now speaking to all of her acquaintances."
"Oh, that's so bad," the old man muttered. "What's happened?"
"We are still in the process of determining that," answered James.
Quagmire nodded. "Wells, if yous wanting to speak to those whos known her, yous needing to speak with little Christine."
"Do you have a last name for this Christine?" Stabler asked.
"I'll do's you one better." Quagmire forced himself to his feet and walked to the door, sticking his head out slightly. "Daae, in's here, these peoples need to speak with ya's."
James glanced at the other two, but they kept quiet as Quagmire returned. As the older man looked them over, James saw Quagmire's eyes rivet to his forehead and widen.
"Heys, is you-" Quagmire was fortunately cut off when the door to the room banged open. Glancing at the other two detectives who were looking between him and James curiously, Quagmire smiled. "Nevers mind, my mistake. You's look familiar, Detective."
James nodded with a small smile on his otherwise blank face, though he was slightly startled. Leave it to me to have to question a bloody wizard, he thought, breathing out when Benson and Stabler stopped looking at him and turned to the girl who'd just entered the sitting room.
"Yes, Felic?" the young woman questioned, smiling briefly at the strangers before her.
"Hello, we are Detectives Benson, Stabler, and Black. We were told you had known Anabelle Pierce," said Olivia.
The dark-haired woman nodded hesitatingly. "Yeah, she's a very good friend of mine. I'm Christine Daae, by the way. And what do you mean, 'had known'?"
"I am afraid that Ms. Pierce was found dead this morning," Elliot stated calmly. "Since you knew her, we have some questions for you, Ms. Daae."
Christine nodded again, her expression downcast. "Of course."
"I'lls just leaves yous alone," Quagmire said. "If'en you needs me, I'll be's across the hall."
Benson nodded, and turned back to Christine. "Ms. Daae, why don't we sit down." Joining her on the couch when the woman sat, Olivia then said, "I know this is difficult, but we just have a few things to ask you. How long have you known Ms. Pierce?"
"About fifteen years, give or take," she answered. "We met in kindergarten. We always do everything together."
Olivia smiled. "All right. Now, when was the last time you spoke to your friend?"
"Just last night, she was on her way to a party in some apartment." Christine shook her head. "She was just fine, and happy. Are you sure she's d-dead?"
"Yes, I'm sorry," confirmed Benson. "Now, did she go to the party with anyone?"
"No," stated Christine, as she wiped at her eyes. James handed her a handkerchief. "Thanks. No, Ana never went with anyone, she always likes to find guys at them. She'd, you know, hook up with them."
"What do you mean, 'hook up'?" Benson inquired.
"Well, uh, she goes to bed with them. That's why I never go to those parties. That's all anyone does there."
"I see. Now, did she ever have a problem with anyone at these parties?" When Christine shook her head, Olivia nodded. "All right. Now, did she have any enemies, anyone who might wish her harm?"
"Oh no, not at all," Christine stated confidently. "She's the nicest person I know. Knew." She started sobbing.
Suddenly, Stabler's cell phone went off in his pocket. "Excuse me."
"Ms. Daae, we may have more questions to ask at a later time," James said, holding the pen still that he'd been taking down notes with. "Would you please give us your address and phone number?"
As she nodded, Elliot returned, signaling to the other detectives. Keeping his voice low, he said, "Cragen needs us back. There was another murder. Same MO."
James nodded and quickly got Christine Daae's information, wondering to himself if she was a witch when she looked oddly at the ballpoint pen he had her use. Shaking his head, knowing that he couldn't very well question either her or Quagmire about it with the other detectives there, James took his leave with the others.
Walking back down the stone pathway outside, James felt a tingle of distinctive wards as they neared the street. He hadn't thought to sense for them before, but still wondered why he hadn't noticed when they had first arrived. Forcing his thoughts back to the case, he was startled when he heard a soft pop sound across the road.
Looking up, green eyes locked with the black gaze of Hogwarts' Potion's master.
A/N: Christine Daae's name was chosen from one of our favourite musicals- The Phantom of the Opera. Ponine was rather insistent about using it. ;) We own nothing of PotO.
Now, we'll have more for you soon. Thanks for reading, and please let us know what you think.
Ponine and Zenn
