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For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.
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20 – Week Forty Three, Third Year
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Sunday, June 10, 2001:
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Hufflepuff table: 06:45
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"Post's here!"
Copies of the Reporter were snatched, the banner headline announcing: MALFOY: NOT PROVEN. Across the Great Hall, people looked up as a large flock of owls dropped mail in front of Lucille Malfoy, sitting by herself at one end of the Gryffindor table. She sneered, banishing the Howlers, opening one in particular. Reading it, she tossed it aside as it burst into flame. Ignoring the rest, she rose, paying no attention to the eyes that followed her.
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Sunday, June 10, 2001:
London, "Speaker's Corner", Hyde Park: 09:54
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Dressed in her school uniform, Lucille claimed a spot at the end of a bench, watching in amusement as a muggle ranted at the indifferent crowd. She twisted open the bottle of water she had bought from a muggle vendor, drinking deeply. Touching her wand to the bottle, she cast replenishment and chilling charms, then opening a charms book, she settled down to wait.
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"Thank you for coming, Miss Malfoy," a voice said quietly. "Oh, don't bother turning about, I'm under several glamour spells. You don't even know if I'm male or female."
"I am here, dressed and equipped as you specified," Lucille replied, equally quietly. "How do I solve the problem of Dumbledore, Potter and Wayne?"
"Very simply: 'Imperio!'" As Lucille stiffened, the voice told her, "When you hear the church bells strike noon, you will place your charm book on your lap, and with the tip of your wand under your chin, you will cast Avada Kedavra on yourself. Do you understand?"
"I do..." Lucille replied in a dreamy voice.
"Then the problem is solved," the voice said. "I'll be nearby, in case you happen to throw off the Imperious. Either way, Avada will be cast at noon. By the by, this is a throwaway wand, not my personal one. No Ministry tracking spells, you do know so many useful people, Lucille. Ta!" The figure got up and left, as a small part of Lucille tried desperately to throw off the spell. The rest of her picked up the charm book and resumed reading.
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Sunday, June 10, 2001:
London, "Speaker's Corner", Hyde Park: 12:00
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'No, this cannot be!' a small part of Lucille screamed in her mind as the church bells started to sound. She watched in silent dismay as her hands neatly inserted a bookmark, closing the book and laying it face-up in her lap. Removing her wand from her sleeve, she placed the tip under her chin, and softly said, 'Avada Kedavra'. None of the muggles noticed the small flash of green light.
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Hell
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Lucille arrived at the Gates, staggering a bit. "G'won, get in line," one demon told her, as other souls arrived with flashes of light.
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Sunday, June 10, 2001:
London, "Speaker's Corner", Hyde Park: 17:20
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"Y'all right there, miss?" the bobby asked. Getting no answer, he touched her, finding her body cold to the touch and without a pulse. Stepping back, he radioed in for a crime scene vehicle.
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Sunday, June 10, 2001:
London, New Scotland Yard, coroner's office: 20:45
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Dr. Downing, chief pathologist, started on examining the Jane Doe, tentatively identified as 'Lucille Malfoy' (according to her textbooks). After photographing, weighing and measuring the body, it was undressed and examined, while he took more notes and photographs, commenting for the recorders, "This is most unusual. So far, she is in perfect physical shape. Without going in, I can see no obvious causes of death, no needle marks, not even vaccination marks. There is a scar where her chin was resting on the rod, with a lightning shaped scar centered on that point. She has all her teeth, not a single cavity or filling. She is a remarkably healthy girl of about thirteen, with moderate musculature, about ... (he measured) an A cup, no piercings, not even for earrings. What do the blood tests show?"
"Absolutely average, doctor, consistent with a regular, healthy diet, no fatigue poisons, not even high cholesterol." He motioned, "Normal blood pooling and lividity for the position of the body. Shall I turn her over?"
"Shall we?" More samples were taken; Lucille's last meal was discussed (eggs, bacon, toast, tea), more photographs taken. The body was returned face up, and Dr. Downing said, "There's nothing for it. Scalpel?"
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Monday, June 11, 2001:
London, New Scotland Yard, homicide office: 09:02
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"Bloody wonderful, the boffins can't find a cause of death," Mylor "Mike" Briggs said, throwing down the folder with the autopsy report.
"What does it say?" Amanda Stratton, his partner asked, reaching for the folder.
Mike picked it up and tossed it to her. "A total cessation of electrical activity in the body," he quoted. "Similar to a massive heart attack, but without the other signs of a heart attack; it's as if everything suddenly stopped. Her heart, lungs, everything just ... stopped. Brain death occurred a few minutes later, but the only thing they can find is a small lightning-shaped scar under her chin."
"Wait a minute," Amanda said, digging through the file. She glanced back and forth between photos of the crime scene and the autopsy; tossing them to her partner, "Where her rod was touching. Her right hand was gripping it, holding it in place. Could it be some form of suicide?"
"What's her motive?" Mike asked, wincing as he took a sip of his now-cool tea. "By her kit, she was at least upper-middle class; all of it looked, if not new, barely used. The only thing that looked at all worn was her ... rod." He sat heavily, automatically adjusting for the missing wheel on his chair.
"Who can tell these days? What about her texts?" she asked, looking over her own teacup. "Spellcasting, potions, transfiguration..." She took a contemplative sip, "If they weren't laid out exactly like every other textbook I've seen, I'd..." She looked at Mike over the rim of her teacup, "They all reference... magic, and they include instruction in use of a wand, precisely like the one she was holding." She sipped, "So now it's a wand, instead of a rod," she said. "You do realize that we're both assuming she's a ..." she took a breath, finishing, "Witch; something that's not supposed to exist outside of fairy tales and Halloween."
"It is strange," Mike admitted. "She was cold as ice, but the water bottle next to her was still cold. We found the receipt, it was bought several hours before she was found, so it shouldn't be cold, but it was, it still is, and it refills itself!" He scrubbed his face, adding, "Her name is apparently Lucille Malfoy, but we couldn't find any trace of her; nor the school she apparently attends, Hogwarts. The labels inside her clothing are totally unknown, and the book's titles, and the ... wand she was holding, it could be she's an actual..."
"Witch?" Amanda asked uncertainly, "What else fits the evidence?"
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Monday, June 11, 2001:
London, New Scotland Yard, homicide office: 16:57
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"H'lo," Tonks said with a smile. She tossed her ID on the desk, "I'm Tonks, and this is my partner Shacklebolt, with Special Branch."
"We're here to pick up the body of one Lucille Malfoy," Kingsley rumbled, the fluorescent lights reflecting off his bald scalp. "Coroner won't release her without you signing off." He offered them a folder with paperwork, "If you'd be so kind."
The two homicide detectives looked at each other, while one handed the ID back, the other pulled together some folders, asking "Why don't we go into the conference room? It would be a bit more private."
Tonks shrugged, "Lead on, mate."
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The two detectives took their places as Kingsley closed the door. As he took a seat, Mike asked, "Why don't we get things out in the open? You two can start by very slowly placing your wands on the table." Kingsley and Tonks blinked, Amanda adding, "The ones in your left sleeves. Slowly, please." She added, "Just so you know, when you closed the door, it locked. We can unlock it, or our partners outside can, once we give them the all-clear. By the by, Special Branch changed their ID's about four months ago." Leaning forward, she added, "Let's start with seeing some real ID, as well as your wands."
Tonks looked at Kingsley; very slowly she drew her wand, placing it in the center of the table. Reaching in a pocket, she drew her ID, tossing it on the desktop next to her wand. Kingsley placed his next to hers, Mike picking it up, "So, Shacklebolt is your real name. What's DMLE?"
"Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he rumbled in reply. "Why don't you simply sign off? We'll wipe your memories, take Malfoy, and everyone will be happy."
Amanda replied, "You're already on the hook for two counts, impersonating a law enforcement officer and assault on one. Both are felonies, by the by." She steepled her hands, "Why don't you start with who Miss Malfoy is, or was."
"A simple schoolgirl, we're to take her back to her family," Tonks said.
With a snort, Amanda replied, "She may have dressed like one, but those aren't texts I recall from my A-levels. Just what are charms? Potions I can guess at, but what about transfiguration?" Mike reached out to pick up a wand, idly swishing it about. They were all surprised when sparks came out of it.
Kingsley looked at his partner, who nodded. "All right, the truth. Charms are spells that make something behave un-naturally, like making a chair move."
"Still haven't seen anything," Mike replied.
Tonks sighed, saying, "Pick a colour, please."
"Green," Mike said.
Kingsley groaned, as Tonks cheerfully explained from under a mop of bright green hair, "My house colour at Hogwarts, his was red. Would you rather have blue?" Without waiting for a reply, blue washed over her hair, it changing from a frizzy mop to a mohawk.
The two muggles glanced at each other, Kingsley asking, "You don't seem very surprised about magic."
"Witchcraft was our working hypothesis," Amanda confessed.
Kingsley grunted and resumed, "There is a world wide community of wizards living with you, the muggle or non-wizarding world. Miss Malfoy is, or was, a Dark Wizard who ran afoul of a disguise charm, and was trapped as a young girl. A corrupt politician gave her the new identity, and enrolled her in Hogwarts." He reclaimed his wand, pointing it at a pen, which stood on end and started to take dictation.
The homicide cops looked at the pen, then each other. "A dark wizard? Do you mean a terrorist?"
Tonks nodded, "As part of her botched disguise, her old identity was declared dead, so she's been living with her former wife, who's her legal guardian. Malfoy was a nasty one, killed and tortured muggles for sport." She smiled, "Pity we can't share files, we could probably solve quite a few cases for you." She pushed her folder forward hopefully, "Sign?"
Mike shook his head. "Too many questions still. What and where is Hogwarts?"
"A school, for what you'd call the A-levels. Students eleven through eighteen," Kingsley replied. "Its north of here, and that's all we'll say on that. Sorry."
"So how did Malfoy die?"
"We don't know," Tonks admitted. "We haven't had the opportunity to examine the body." The homicide files were passed over, and they were silent as they read.
"If she was forced..." Tonks finished reading the case file, trading a look with her partner. "I'd love to have a copy of this file."
"For some more answers," the male detective said. "How would she be forced?"
"There are forbidden spells, what we call the Unforgivables," Kingsley replied. "One of which is to force another to do your bidding, to the victim it seems like the most logical thing in the world. You can force another to do anything, including kill."
"Another Unforgivable, the killing curse," Tonks added. "The lightning-shaped scar is distinctive." She tapped the folder, "Definitely murder, but nobody's going to cry for her. She had too many enemies."
Kingsley rumbled. "Malfoy was the wrong personality to commit suicide. She was an arrogant pureblood, the only reason she'd do it is..."
"Pureblood?" Amanda asked. "Some sort of racial thing?"
"Essentially," Kingsley rumbled. "Pureblood families like the Malfoys can trace their family trees back thousands of years. It has caused quite a bit of inbreeding, as the only acceptable arrangement for their children's marriages has been to other pureblood families. However, with Malfoy's death, and his murder of his son a few years ago, his line is now extinct."
"You're wizards, I'll admit, and you sound like cops," Mike said, "I don't like the whole 'memory wiping' thing, though. You know this entire conversation is being taped, if you try to wipe our memories, all we need do is play it back."
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"So, will you sign?" Kingsley rumbled.
"I propose a trade," Mike said, with a glance at his partner. "You leave our memories be, Amanda and I make sure there's only one copy of the tape and it's in our possession, you walk out of here with the signatures you need and copies of the case files."
"Acceptable," Kingsley rumbled, adding, "An alliance might prove beneficial to both of us." They each looked at their partners, Amanda asking, "You know the King's Hangman? It's a pub west of the Marble Arch tube station, near the Tyburn Tree. This Saturday at noon good?"
The door buzzed to unlock, Kingsley turning the knob. A fellow looked up, "'Lo, Shacklebolt. We've gotten all these."
"Don't worry about these two, they're done," he rumbled. The obliviator nodded, and apparated out.
"Saturday at the Hangman," Tonks said, and Mike nodded. They disappeared with a pop, as Mike let out his breath, and looked at his partner. "Helluva bluff," she said.
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Tuesday, June 12, 2001:
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 07:29
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"Post's here!"
The banner headline on the Reporter read: MALFOY DEAD! People read over other's shoulders as the news was discussed. Connie was heard to say, "Good riddance!"
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Friday, June 15, 2001:
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 17:03
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Minerva entered the Great Hall, pausing at the Slytherin table. "Miss Yates, as this is the Leaving Feast, I must ask you to join your House table."
"Aw, but..." She looked at the surprised faces, then sighed, "Yes, ma'am." She stood, adding, "I was really looking forward to seeing a working TV, too."
"You're not a Slytherin?" Emma asked.
"Sorry, no. I didn't mean to deceive you, it just never came up," Cassidy admitted. "I am a Hogwarts graduate, though, class of 2385, and the first Gryff in 130 years, everyone else in the family was either a 'claw or a Slythie. There was a Huffie somewhere too." She smiled again, "Sorry."
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Minerva stood, tapping her butter knife against her goblet. Conversation quieted down as she gazed about the Great Hall. When she was satisfied, she stated, "Another year draws to a close. For now, we bid farewell to some of our friends, once seventh-years, now graduates."
Someone whooped from Gryffindor, and pandemonium erupted again. Minerva stood, waiting patiently, and the noise died down once more. "Thank you," she said primly, adding, "We now come to the announcement of the Quidditch cup. Gryffindor," she winced, "with 130 points, Hufflepuff, with ..."
With a small pop of displaced air, a small blue figure popped into existence in front of the high table. He turned in midair, and several people gasped as they recognized a Guardian in their red robes. He intoned, "Green Lantern, you are needed."
Mattie glowered at him from Slytherin. 'I'm busy, come back later,' she thought.
The Guardian turned toward her, "Green Lantern, you are needed," he repeated.
"I said I'm busy, come back later," she repeated, out loud this time. "There are three other Lanterns on this planet," she said, standing. "I have other commitments." Turning toward the high table, she apologized, "I'm sorry, I didn't know he'd be coming. Please pardon the interruption."
"You are needed, Green Lantern. Come at once."
"The least you could do is to tell me why you're insisting on me," she complained. "And what do you plan to do about the galactic slave trade?"
"You will not dictate your morality or ethics upon others until you have resolved the problem on your own world. You are needed. Come," the Guardian insisted.
"Letting billions of sentient creatures decide their own fate is a matter of my imposed ethics? I don't think so. As a matter of fact, I hereby resign from the Green Lantern Corps, not that I really wanted your silly Ring in the first place." Mattie declared as she strode up to stand face to face with him. With a twist, she pulled the Ring off her finger, pulling out his hand and slapping it in his palm. "I quit."
"You dare to touch my person?" he said, surprised.
"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out," she said, turning. "You bet I dare." Mattie looked at the High Table, "Professor, shall I escort him out?"
"Who... who is that?"
"Ganthet, one of the Guardians of Oa, creator of the Green Lantern Corps, and billion-year old galactic busybody," Mattie replied cheerfully. She raised an eyebrow, "Out?"
"If you would, please," Mattie's hand moved forward, and with a motion, she was thrown away, crashing against the Hufflepuff bench. Ganthet floated in midair, a green shell of energy surrounding him. She shook her head, saying "I was trying to be polite. There was no need to do that." She stood, stalking toward him as students scurried away, and she started to mutter a spell. A white nimbus of energy formed around her as she floated in midair, globes of energy around her fists forming wind currents as she floated to face Ganthet.
"Cease this petulant behavior at once. Come," the blue man stated in a voice Mattie felt as much as heard.
"I've tried to be polite, but I said, NO!" she told him, as the wind picked up, flames flickering as the hundreds of floating candles went out, dropping from midair. A ghostlike aura of magic started swirling around her as, for the first time in centuries, Hogwarts castle groaned.
"Yellow spells!" Arthur called from Hufflepuff, drawing his wand and firing at the Guardian. Soon, a crescendo of spells were hitting the Guardian's shield, as Mattie backed off, white energy circling her as the castle shook, small stones and dust falling from the walls. With a 'crash', a window blew out, the beams supporting the ceiling of the Great Hall creaking in protest.
"You are still young," the Guardian said clearly over the howl of magic and the tortured cries of the building. "You channel the source energies of one planet; I control the energies of the universe. You have impressed me." With a wave of his hand, Mattie was thrown away, sliding down the Hufflepuff table with a wave of broken crockery. Two first-years kept her from sliding off.
Cassidy caught her arm from the Gryffindor table, popping out her tan wand from Mattie's right sleeve as she lay unconscious. Bracing her foot against a bench, she took careful aim and started firing spells at the Guardian, muttering, "Knock out MY Grandma, you deal with ME!" They managed to knock him back, the barrage resuming.
This also brought her to the Guardian's attention, who looked her over. "Out of time? We shall correct that." With a wave of his hand, they both disappeared.
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