Chapter Seven – A Dirty Old Inn

The sitting room was quite small; one couch and two chairs sat on top of a threadbare carpet facing a little dirty fireplace. Above the fireplace was a single large oil painting of a blonde girl in her mid-teens. The girl was smiling politely as she observed the two men who occupied the room.

'So, what do you reckon? Is it one of the teachers?' asked Aberforth, the bartender of the Hog's Head. He was very old by now, considerably older than his brother was when he'd died. And yet he was still sharp, and his eyes still reflected the same serene wisdom of the man Harry so admired.

'Hard to tell right now. It could be one of the teachers, it could be a student that uses some potion or spell to young-e-fy themselves. It could also just be some stupid rumour,' said Harry as he glanced at his watch. It was late, almost midnight. 'He should be here soon with some info.'

'Humph...' grunted the old bartender. 'It's been a while since you graced me with your presence Potter.'

'Yeah well, I don't usually spend much time in this part of the country,' replied Harry.

It was true. Though Harry's job meant that he often came across – and prosecuted – many of the patrons of the Hog's Head Inn, he did not usually spend much time chasing them up and down the country anymore. That was a job for the younger wizards and witches who worked for him. This was a different mission, however, and Harry wanted to conduct his investigations personally. If there was any possibility that he was potentially dealing with a new Voldemort, he wanted to be in the thick of things. Besides, there was another reason why Harry decided not to send anyone else to the Hog's Head that night.

'Too fancy to do any real work now, eh? Well good for you. I wasn't surprised when you got promoted to be the top dog of magical law enforcement. But why would you leave your nice office for my smelly tavern? Why not send somebody else?' asked Aberforth.

'I can't really trust anybody in my office now, can I?' replied Harry. 'There's been a murder and a plot that involves a potential heir to Voldemort. If there are Death Eaters involved, I can't trust anyone in my vicinity not to be Imperiused or, even worse, secretly working with whoever committed the murder.'

'I see. And how do you know I'm not Imperiused?' questioned the old man.

'You've always been a grumpy old goat Aberforth. The day you greet me nicely into your pub with open arms is the day I'll start suspecting you.'

Aberforth chuckled. 'Well said. It's time now, isn't it? He should've been here already.'

A moment after the old man spoke, a soft knock was heard from the front door below them. Aberforth got up and left the room immediately. He was quite agile for a man of his age, just like his brother, Albus Dumbledore, had been. Harry had thought about his old mentor more often than not these days. He felt a sharp twinge of sadness and grief whenever he did. He missed the old headmaster, his wise counsel, his planning, and his infinite sympathy.

The door to the sitting room had opened. Neville entered the room with Aberforth at his rear holding three dusty bottles of butterbeer. He nodded at Harry as he sat down in one of the chairs. Aberforth took the other chair after he had handed them both their bottles.

'What a first week of term you've given me… investigating my own colleagues and students. I can't say it's been a load of fun Harry,' said Neville.

'Did you find out anything though?' asked Harry eagerly.

'Well, I have a few suspects. Though it is worth mentioning that there hasn't been any suspicious behaviour that I've noticed so far,' added the Herbology professor. 'Anyway, you've described the young Tom Riddle as a handsome, tall, black-haired, dark-eyed, and pale-skinned man of supreme skill and above-average intelligence, is that right? So naturally, I looked into any witch or wizard at Hogwarts who might fit any or all of these descriptions. We can also agree that, if the Child is not impersonating anyone who was already at Hogwarts using a Polyjuice Potion or such, they would most likely be a Slytherin, since being a descendant of Voldemort will make them a descendant of Salazar Slytherin as well. The students I looked into generally seem to be either too young – though they can hide their true age, of course – don't fit the physical description, or too unremarkable.

'Thomas Delamont, a seventh-year, is the only exception. He is smart, polite, top marks in all his classes, has most of the physical characteristics we're looking for – except that his eyes are green – and he generally seems to be a little "too decent". There are a few problems; however, he is a Hufflepuff, muggle-born, and he hasn't done anything suspicious in his seven years at school.'

'Did you run a background check?' began Harry.

'His backstory checks out. Both his parents are a pair of polite muggles who look remarkably like him. So, unless there is some form of advanced trickery involved, I would say he's not our guy,' replied Neville.

'What about the Polyjuice Potion route?' asked Harry.

'I don't think it's reasonable to go that way. It would be too difficult to hide the individual you're impersonating along with stealing a whole heap of ingredients,' said Aberforth.

'It's been done before,' replied Harry.

'Yes, but nothing is missing from the ingredients cupboards and nobody that I've seen is going around constantly drinking from a flask or carrying a large trunk around with them,' said Neville. 'By the way, did you check that map of yours?' he asked Harry.

'Nothing out of the ordinary on there. But then again, we don't know the Child's name, do we?'

'Still, I'll send you a list of students and staff, maybe you can compare them,' said Neville.

'What about teachers? New staff? Animals? Maybe they're an Animagus?' asked Harry.

'I don't know about animals, there are too many living creatures around Hogwarts to really check everything. As for staff members… well… I've looked into all the new ones,' Neville continued as he pulled out a list of names from inside his robes. 'Madam Grimelda Taranis, the new Flying and Physical Education instructor doesn't seem to fall in any category we're looking for, she's just good at flying and sports and not much else. Professor Thomas Selwyn, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, doesn't fit any of the physical descriptions we're looking for either, talented ex-Auror from a respected family and a background that goes back centuries. Not much to go on there but I'm keeping him in mind. Professor Miriam McGarth, Potions Master and one of the newer members of staff, started back in twenty eleven after Slughorn retired for good. Get this: black hair, pale, attractive, exceedingly talented, a Slytherin, and a very intelligent woman, so much so that she almost seems to find life at Hogwarts dull and boring.'

'But that's perfect! Almost too perfect… why didn't you mention her first?' asked Harry as he was dreading the answer.

'Well, there's one big issue; she was born in nineteen eighty-three, a full two years after Voldemort's first fall. I've checked the lists and paperwork on her, and they are all legitimate. She was born in Indiana, USA, to an Irish American mother who died at birth and a muggle father who left before she was born. Got adopted by her aunt and moved to Ballycastle, attended Hogwarts with us, three years below, then travelled the world for a bit, worked for a potions company for a few years, and then started teaching at Hogwarts.'

'You said she was three years below us? Laura Madley was three years below us too, could she possibly have known her?'

'It's possible, even likely, but they were in different houses and weren't friends from what I know,' replied Neville. 'And again, her date and place of birth pretty much rule out the possibility of her being the Child. But I've saved the best for last: Professor Leviticus Montgomery, the Transfiguration teacher, only slightly older than us Harry, tall, dark hair, dark eyes, pale, handsome, talented, smart, and has a cloudy past. He was born in nineteen seventy-eight in Liverpool to a witch mother who died shortly after and, supposedly, a wizard father who raised him on his own. He attended Hogwarts with us and graduated two years prior, could not provide much information about himself after he'd left Hogwarts, just said he left the country because of the war. He finally returns shortly after the war to start teaching Transfiguration at Hogwarts after McGonagall became Headmistress.'

'What doesn't fit about him then?' said Harry in a cynical tone.

'He's in Ravenclaw, but that doesn't rule him out completely, he could have gone to the Sorting knowing that being in Slytherin would be suspicious, so he simply demanded to be in Ravenclaw. In any case, I'm keeping an eye on him and gathering more information about his past, maybe we'll find something we can work with,' said Neville.

'How did you find out all this anyway?' asked Aberforth, who looked both impressed and astonished with his old acquaintance.

'Well, I did like Harry said: I invited each of them, alone, for a chat in the Three Broomsticks and told each of them that I suspect somebody else so I could both see their reactions and throw them off as to my true suspicions should I decide they are a good candidate for being the Child. You'd be surprised how talkative people get when they're a few Firewhiskeys in, Aberforth' said Neville.

'Trust me, boy, I wouldn't,' said the old man.

'The only one that got annoyed with my "innocent and friendly inquiries" was Leviticus Montgomery,' finished Neville.

Harry took another sip of his butterbeer. The argument for Montgomery was compelling. He was clearly trying to hide something.

'Why did he get so upset with you?' asked Harry.

'He said that I'm too nosey for my own good, and "why did I suddenly take such an interest in him after we've been working together for years now?" He also seemed quite upset that I would think Selwyn was the Child, almost as if he got insulted that I would think that,' answered Neville.

'I'll have him looked up. You did great Neville, really, thank you.'

'Glad to help, always.'

'If I could just interrupt for a second,' said Aberforth suddenly, 'why are you so frantically looking for this Child anyway? If they haven't done anything wrong in, potentially, years they've been at Hogwarts, why bother exposing them? Maybe they just want to be left alone? Somebody got murdered, right? Just investigate the murder and find out who done it, why go through all this trouble for someone who did not ask to be He Who Must Not Be Named's kid?'

'But we don't know that they hadn't done anything, do we? Maybe they're recruiting a new Death Eater army secretly? We don't know anything about this person, which is why we must treat them as potentially dangerous,' replied Harry.

'You know how many people would have to be in on this "secret army conspiracy"?! Something would've slipped out, especially to one of your spies, Potter. I've had to ban Dung Fletcher from my inn again because he can't move two feet without a dozen secret agents tailing him, and he's just a lowlife fence!' countered the old bartender.

'Even if they are just the innocent and unwilling child of Voldemort, as you say Aberforth, we would still have to find out who they were so that we can potentially catch Madley's killer before they can get to them.'

'You must be so happy playing detective again, eh, Potter – MERLIN'S TOENAILS THIS ISN'T THE BLEEDING ORDER OF THE PHEONIX HEADQUARTERS!' Aberforth jumped in anger as another knock was heard on the door of the inn. He ran down the rickety wooden stairs again. A creak of the door was heard below them, and Harry heard the voice of Dean Thomas speak.

'Is Harry here? Ginny told me he'd be here now; I came as quickly as I could…'

'Yes, he's here you fool! Now come in before you wake up the entire village,' said Aberforth as he slammed the door behind them.

Dean walked into the sitting room with Aberforth a moment later. He looked tired. His greying hair, puffy red eyes, and posture made him look older than he was.

'Did you find them?' asked Harry as Dean sat next to him on the couch.

'I did yeah, at that dark wizarding settlement in Ontario,' began Dean.

'You went to Malmire?' asked Neville with astonishment.

'That's where our sources said all the released ex-Death Eaters had moved to. Had to disguise myself to blend in. It's gotten pretty big now, Harry, must be several hundred people,' continued Dean.

'What did they say when you found them?' inquired Harry.

'Not much, considering they were all decomposing in a mass grave.'

'WHAT?!' yelled Harry and Neville in unison.

'Yeah, the Carrows, Goyles, and Notts, all of them, even their children, it was brutal,' said Dean with disgust. 'When I asked around, all folks said was that they were all found dead one morning with no clues as to who did it. Though I wouldn't trust the fine citizens of Malmire to tell me the truth if I'm honest. I couldn't stay there much longer in any case because they all started looking at me funny what with all the curious questions I was asking.'

'But you've seen the bodies?' asked Harry.

'Yes. I came back again during the night and dug them up – ' the rest of his sentence was drowned in a flood of colourful swearing courtesy of Aberforth. There was another knock on the door.

A moment later a skinny man with mousy brown hair had entered the room. Dennis Creevey was one of the better Aurors Harry had the pleasure of employing. Following his brother's death at the Battle of Hogwarts, Dennis had sworn to hunt down – and throw in gaol – any dark witch or wizard he came across. He grew up to become an expert duellist and a far more impressive man than the child Harry had remembered from his school years.

'Any news of Travers?' asked Harry as both Dennis and Aberforth sat down in the – now fully occupied – sitting room.

'Yes and no,' said Dennis. 'We haven't been able to find him in Australia, but the Aurors' Office there claims they'd heard of a man fitting his description in the jungles of Papua New Guinea. I left my task force to investigate while I came back here to deliver the news. He apparently killed a girl in Coffs Harbour a few months back which caused the Australian Ministry of Magic to find out about him. He fled afterwards and they couldn't figure out where to. This report from Papua New Guinea is fairly old too, a couple of months. They sent three Aurors to the jungles and they never returned. I'm not surprised though, there's all manner of crazy stuff in there, Acromantulas, Lethifolds, violent tribes of wizards and non-magical folk alike, dangerous place these jungles are. I wouldn't be surprised if Travers is now lying dead somewhere in there.'

'Maybe. Or maybe he spread the rumour that he's gone to Papua New Guinea to throw people off the fact he went to North America and paid a few of his old mates a visit,' said Harry. Dennis looked at him in confusion. Harry and Dean filled him in quickly about the Malmire carnage.

'So you think Travers killed that lot? And then what? He returned here and killed Madley too? I'm not sure Harry. Yes, he is cruel and murderous, we know that, but is he really capable enough to subdue and kill so many of his old pals? That would be a tough fight even for you,' said Dennis.

'He could have snuck up on them as they slept,' added Neville.

'He could have, but then why would he come back here of all places? And how did he find out about the Child?' said Dennis.

'Somebody in Malmire could've told him,' added Dean.

'How would they know about the Child though?' retorted Dennis. 'It's not like it was common knowledge, and Voldemort wouldn't exactly share this information with anyone.'

'That's another thing you know' said Aberforth, 'you keep ignoring the fact that having babies would be completely out of character for him. If I were planning on living forever, what use would I have for children? And besides, he didn't seem like the type to… you know… be interested in that sort of thing… How do you know it's all real?'

'Like I said, we don't. But we must look and be prepared for any possibility. Which is why we need to send someone back to Malmire to sniff around some more,' said Harry.

'You want me to go back?' asked Dean with a slight panic in his voice. 'I don't think they'd like to see my inquiring face again…'

'Not you but maybe someone else, this time we'll be more discreet about it, more cautious. Dennis, how fast can you recall your team from Australia?'

'They can be back here in a couple of days I reckon. I take it you think the Papua New Guinea rumour is cold?'

'Yeah, I think so, even if Travers did go there, it's likely he's not around anymore,' said Harry. 'Just tell the Australians to keep us in the loop if something else comes up. I want you to then choose two of your best Aurors and go undercover to Malmire, and I mean deep undercover. New identities, faces, life stories, everything. Try to learn to fake Canadian accents if you can.'

'Got it,' replied Dennis.

'And I want you to tell me everything you hear over there, I don't care how irrelevant you think it may be, I need a full report every week. Do you understand me?' continued Harry.

'Yes sir. But how are we going to deliver these reports?' asked Dennis curiously.

'I'm gonna arrange some special form of communication with a new acquaintance of mine. Something more inconspicuous than owls or Patronuses. He said I should write if I needed anything, well it turns out I do.'

'Would you like me to still keep tabs on Montgomery, Harry?' asked Neville.

'If you could Neville, that would be brilliant. Dean, I need you to stay in the country and run the murder investigation over here. There are very few people we can trust right now and it's crucial that we do this right,' finished Harry.

'Well then if you don't mind now,' began Aberforth, 'I only agreed to host this little meeting for Potter and Longbottom and it's already incredibly late. Can we break up this party now?' he looked at Dennis and Dean disapprovingly.

'Sure Aberforth,' said Harry as he got up from the couch, grabbed Neville's empty bottle along with his, and handed them over to the bartender. The group walked back down into the dark, grimy, and empty bar below. Harry opened the door and breathed in the cold night air. He heard Dean apologise to Aberforth for the intrusion behind him.

'Come'on now Ab, don't pretend like you didn't enjoy eavesdropping on us a little,' said Neville teasingly.

'Yeah, yeah, just get out, I'll see you around,' grunted the old man.

It had been a while since Harry had set foot in this dirty old inn. His visit had brought back memories of secret gatherings and preparations for war. Be it Dumbledore's Army or right before the Battle of Hogwarts, he had always seemed to gather in the Hog's Head before a major struggle.