Interrogation
When they reached the Entrance Hall, they caught a glimpse of the Great Hall, where all the teachers were hurriedly checking wands. Whiteman led them to the next room, where McGonagall had welcomed the newly arrived first-years just a few weeks ago – to Albus, however, it seemed to be ages ago. Behind the open door they saw Gracchus Barclay, who had apparently set up his temporary office here.
"Gracchus, I have all six of them with me," Whiteman called out to his colleague.
"Thank you very much, Charles, I'll question them one by one. First send Potter in to me, and make sure that the others can't make any arrangements in the meantime."
Whiteman gestured Albus in.
Albus entered, closed the door behind him, frankly looked into Barclay's face, and said:
"Good evening, sir!"
Of course he was afraid, but he had learned a little of Scorpius' aristocratic habitus and how important it was to keep one's composure in every situation, even and particularly when one had trouble with teachers. He also knew from his father what Aurors paid attention to when they were questioning someone. The more clearly he showed that there was nothing to blame himself for, the better.
"Good evening, Potter!", Barclay returned his greeting. "Sit down, please."
Barclay had made a kind of provisional desk out of two school desks, at one side of which he was sitting himself, while Albus took a seat on the other.
Gracchus Barclay was an honourably greying, fatherly-looking, but also – as Albus knew – competent and astute investigator who had been detached – Harry said disposed of – to Hogwarts at Hermione's order. His dad had been very upset about it in the summer because Barclay was hard to replace in the Auror Department.
He seemed in no hurry to start the interrogation, but looked at Albus long and piercingly, while the latter held his gaze as calmly as he could under the circumstances.
Finally, she said: "Albus, Albus, who would have imagined it possible? A Potter in that company! What will your father say?"
If his intention had been to intimidate Albus and put him on the defensive, it failed. Albus proudly raised his chin.
"With respect, sir," he began politely but firmly, "there is nothing I need to conceal from my father. I'm proud of my friends and there's nothing any of us have to be ashamed of!"
Barclay had obviously not expected such a brash answer from an eleven-year-old whom he had considered the weakest link in the chain and had therefore summoned first for questioning. Surprised, but not angry, he raised his eyebrows.
"So you have no idea why you are here?"
"Yes, I have, sir. Professor Whiteman told us that a fellow student has been hit by a Stunning Spell, so all wands are being checked. All six of us practised Stunning spells tonight and stunned each other. You must have found out about the Stunning Spells when you checked the wands, and that's why you are questioning us. That's your job."
"You said it, Potter," Barclay replied. "Where were you between seven and eight o'clock this evening?"
"In the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor, sir."
"Who else was there with you?"
"The five waiting outside the door."
"No one else?"
"No one else, sir."
"What did you do there?"
"We were recapping different spells in our working group: Invisibility, Shield Charm, reduction and enlargement, Petrificus and finally the Stunning Spell. We exclusively stunned each other."
Barclay looked at him pityingly.
"Potter," said he, "who's going to believe that?"
"You, sir!" replied Albus, without blinking.
Barclay looked particularly fatherly again. "Potter," he said, "it is honorable of you to want to protect your friends, but you and me, we both know that it was very different, wasn't it?"
"It was just as I told you, sir."
Barclay didn't comment on this. He stood up, moved close to Albus, bent down to him, and said softly: "Your friends incited you to bully fellow Muggle-born students, and as you wanted to prove yourself a good Slytherin, you went along with them. That's how it was, wasn't it?"
"No, sir, it wasn't."
"Don't be stupid, Potter! You are only eleven years old and have been incited to do silly things by older students. You certainly won't be expelled, but only if you tell the truth now."
"That's what I'm doing, sir. And, excuse me, but I think your theory is a little, uh, crazy. Roy MacAllister is not only Muggle-born himself, but has also stood up for Bernie Wildfellow, the only Muggle at the school. And I've done so myself! It's absurd to accuse us of bullying Muggle-born students!"
This was a sound argument. Barclay, leaning against the table, looked thoughtfully down at Albus.
"What kind of working group is that?"
"A working group for Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Oh?" asked Barclay. "And as your defence teacher, why don't I know about this?"
"We didn't feel there was a need to inform you, sir. After all, it's nothing forbidden."
"No, it isn't, and as your teacher I should even be pleased with your zeal. I've just been an Auror for too long not to wonder when someone has secrets. Or did anyone but the six of you know about your exercises?"
"No one."
"And why not?"
Albus paused for a moment, then said: "We wanted to keep to ourselves. We, uh, it didn't occur to us to tell anyone about it at all."
"No?" Barclay fixed his gaze on him. "So you were on the seventh floor. Did you go there together?"
Now it was getting dicey. They had not talked about that. He had to say nothing that the others would not confirm. Stay as close to the truth as possible, Roy had said. He had gone to the secret room alone today, as he always did, and that must have been exactly how he got to the Room of Requirement ...
"I went up alone, sir."
"Which way?"
Albus tried not to show his dismay at the question. He had been at Hogwarts for less than two months and had never been to the seventh floor, he simply didn't know the way ...
For the moment, a knock at the door saved him from his embarrassment.
"Come in!" called Barclay.
In came Professor McGonagall. "We checked all the wands. No other suspicious wands were found."
"Thank you, Minerva, so those six are still our main suspects," Barclay said. "Our Mister Potter is claiming that they have formed a working group for Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Yes, I know about this working group," McGonagall said indifferently.
Albus startled. They had agreed to keep McGonagall out of it! All the incorruptible ones would stiffly claim that they had not told anyone about it. Barclay would wonder why they denied having informed McGonagall ...
"Right," he interrupted, "I had forgotten that, sir! I spoke to Professor McGonagall about it." He tried to emphasise the "I" as clearly as possible to give the Headmistress a hint not to mention that one of the others let alone the entire group had informed her. While Barclay was turning back to Albus, the latter saw McGonagall get her hawk-eyed expression very briefly before her features relaxed.
"That's coming to you only now, Potter?" he asked suspiciously.
"I'm sorry, sir, it was a casual conversation, so I hadn't thought more about it."
Barclay looked doubtfully at the Headmistress, who confirmed Albus' information with a curt nod.
"Well," he turned back to Albus. "So you were on your way to the seventh floor. How exactly did you get to the Room of Requirement?"
"I'm afraid I don't know any more because I got lost on the way. I had forgotten to ask for directions. Fortunately, I had left early. I went up until I was on the seventh floor, and there I wandered around until I found Barnabas the Barmy. I couldn't remember the path with the best will in the world."
"You could have asked someone."
"Yeah, sure, but I would have been embarrassed, I ... uh, I didn't want to be the stupid first-year who didn't have a clue."
"How often does your group meet?", Barclay demanded.
"Three times a week, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday."
Always in the Room of Requirement?
"Yes, sir."
"Since when?"
"Since the end of September."
"So you've been there a dozen times and you still don't know the way?"
"I used to go with one of the others, so I didn't have to remember."
"With whom?" asked Barclay, and Albus felt himself getting hot.
"With Roy MacAllister, sir," he said after a moment's hesitation. "Sometimes there were others, but I don't remember exactly who and when."
"No?"
"I didn't keep a record of it," Albus said somewhat flippantly, but with an innocent expression. This way, the details were vague enough to ensure that the Incorruptibles would not get entangled in inconsistencies.
"I guess there's nothing more I can do here, Gracchus," the Headmistress said. "See you later!"
"Yes, thank you, see you then!" And while McGonagall was leaving the room, Barclay turned back to Albus. The rest of the interrogation was short. Barclay asked him where he had been when other Muggle-borns had been cast the Petrificus. Fortunately, Albus had alibis for those times because he had been with Scorpius, Jennifer, or Bernie.
"All right," Barclay finally said. "You may go, Potter. Send MacAllister in to me."
Albus left the provisional police office: "Roy," he said, "your turn!"
When Roy went in, McGonagall, who had been chatting with Whiteman until then, turned to Albus:
"Potter, you go to sleep now, it's past eleven, far too late for you!"
"Please, Professor McGonagall," he replied. "I'm way too excited to sleep right now, and if you don't mind, I'd like to stay with my friends."
To his own surprise, the usually stern Headmistress gave in. "All right, for once. But I warn you, Potter! If you fall asleep in class tomorrow ..."
"I'll give him a Cheering Charm in the morning," said Ares. "Then he'll stay awake."
"Nevertheless, you must stay away from those who have not yet been interrogated," Whiteman said dutifully.
The rest of the interrogations took place one after the other, while the two teachers continued to talk, and gradually all their colleagues joined them; only Richardson was missing.
Shortly before midnight, Barclay left the room with Ares, whom he had interviewed last, and reported to McGonagall:
"They didn't do it. Their alibis for today and the other crime dates are credible and verifiable respectively, Bancroft was only hit by one, at most two shock spells, not six, and they had no motive ..."
"... but my utmost trust," McGonagall smiled. "I didn't expect anything else, but I didn't want to interfere with your investigation."
"Still, I can't help feeling," Barclay said suspiciously while handing the Incorruptibles back their wands one by one, "that you're keeping something from me. I just don't think it's the attack on Bancroft."
He turned back to his colleagues and the Headmistress. "Unfortunately, we are as wise now as before. Maybe someone has a second wand, but he could have hidden it anywhere in this huge building, he had time enough. Also, I made a mistake, next time we will check the teachers' wands first."
"You don't seriously believe ..." started Whiteman, but Barclay cut him off.
"I don't believe anything," Barclay replied dryly, "except that this is what I should have done first, whereas now we can't check it because the many Priori incantetem have overwritten all the previous spells. By the way, where is Meredith?"
At that moment, the portal opened and, as if she had been waiting for her cue, Meredith Richardson entered the entrance hall, her face slightly flushed.
"Meredith, where have you been?", Barclay called out to her.
"I was just out for a walk," the woman replied elatedly.
"Not a good idea at this time and under these circumstances," Barclay said with slight rebuke. "For one attacking Muggle-born students, the Muggle Studies teacher could also be an attractive target."
"I hope I'm always an attractive target," Richardson replied impishly and with a certain happy smile that Barclay had noticed on her more often lately. Probably she's in love ...
"Now, the students are going to sleep," Whiteman ordered. The Incorruptibles headed for their common room.
"Bad thing," Roy grumbled when they were out of earshot.
"Why do you think so," Albus asked, "we're exonerated, aren't we?"
"Yes, we are, but Barclay is now aware that this group exists, when and where we meet, and that you are a permanent part of it – that's unusual because you are so much younger than us. And he has vague suspicions about us. I hope he doesn't file a report with the Ministry. In any case, we will have to be careful as hell!"
"I wonder who stunned Bancroft? Maybe another one of the Gryffindors?" grumbled Julian.
"Well, not James Potter anyway," Roy chortled. "The Howler he got from his mother has probably wiped out his appetite for such adventures."
Everyone giggled. The Howler that Ginny – in the best Weasley tradition – had sent to her eldest son had been really embarrassing and made James even more of a laughing stock than he had been anyway, after his graffiti.
"Besides, I can't imagine any other Gryffindor wanting to repeat the embarrassment," Orpheus added.
"But who else could have done it?" asked Albus.
"Maybe you shouldn't ask who did it, but who was behind it," Orpheus mused. "Attacks on Muggle-born fit so well into the Ministry's concept that I would suppose the initiator there."
"False flag ..." muttered Roy.
"Sorry?"
"A false flag attack, in which someone other than the real initiator is suspected, is one of the usual dirty tricks of intelligence and secret police services. And that's what we have since recently ..."
"Anderson?" asked Albus.
"In any case, I'm sure he knows how to bypass the protection spells and get into Hogwarts, with or without Hermione's knowledge. If the Daily Prophet is bringing up the issue tomorrow, we can almost be certain that the Ministry is involved."
Roy stopped. They were only a few steps away from the common room.
"First the graffiti," he said gloomily. "Then three times Petrificus. Then a Stunning Spell ..."
"A climax," Orpheus interjected. "They are stepping up. Someone is trying to construct a series, and next time ..." He paused.
"...it could well be an Unforgivable," Roy finished.