Published 22th of September, 2020
Ministry of Magic, Auror Headquarters
17:20
As the door opened, purple aeroplanes burst into Auror Headquarters and boosted in different directions. Some addressees being absent, few of them landed on small desks in the appropriate cubicles and the rest were just being opened and read.
„Blimey, finally something new!" Anthony, who sat a few cubicles away, cried happily, grabbed his cloak and ran to the door.
After a moment he came back, also running, grabbed his badge and strode out into the corridor.
Roger White stood up and waved to his colleague sitting nearby.
„I won, Tim! You owe me a beer!"
„It was predictable. He forgets everything. I think the only one thing he remembers is each morning - that he is a guy. You know what I mean", someone snorted dismissively.
Klaudia Hopkins was new, she only joined the team two months ago, but that didn't mean she was shy. Why these goddamn guys think about just one topic ?!"
„One more stupid hint, Wilkinson, and I'll kick your ass so that you won't be able to sit down for a week!"
Harry winked at her, leaning back in his chair.
"Just take care it swells equally on both sides!"
Everyone burst out laughing and it muffled the sound of opening door.
"Harry, Richard, I have something for you," Harry jumped, both in surprise and in sudden emotion.
Finally!
Gawain Robards, the Head of the Auror Office, was standing next to his and Rich's cubicle with two pieces of parchment. Gawain smiled broadly seeing Harry's burst of joy.
„Great!" Harry clapped his hands together. "What's the case?"
"Suspicion of murder. Most likely it has nothing to do with black magic."
There was immediate silence in the Headquarters and everyone kept their ears to the ground. The assignments weren't particularly exciting, but it was a point of honor for everyone to find out before anyone else what other Aurors were assigned to.
"Who's the victim?" Rich asked.
"A certain Chase Griffin, Lab Assistant at Powell's Potions Laboratory. He died just a moment ago under rather dramatic circumstances." Gawain didn't even wince as he glanced at the brief description given by Healer Johnson.
"How do we know it's murder?" Rich continued.
"We don't know, but that's how Severus Snape, the witness of death, classified it."
Oh sheeeeet! Harry's joy faded rapidly. Snape. If he hadn't had to see him again in his life, he wouldn't have protested.
Everyone, including Rich and Gawain, looked at him closely, so he calmed down and nodded.
"So it shouldn't wait," he stated. His voice sounded almost normal.
Gawain set the parchment on Rich's desk and as he stepped back, one of the pages shifted and, swinging from side to side, fell down on the floor.
"Sorry," muttered Gawain. "Take a photographer with you. Healer Johnson said he must take the body to the Clinic to determine the cause of death. Snape insisted on it. And hurry up, because he's waiting for you in the waiting room. Good luck guys!" he waved his hand for goodbye and left.
"Who's waiting? Johnson or Snape?" Harry asked everyone and no one in particular.
"Johnson, if you ask me" his partner replied, climbing his way out of the desk, parchment in hand. "You are gloomy-looking bunch…"
Harry snorted angrily. This cannot be happening to me! Two weeks have passed since the end of the last case. The affair they were working on with Rich wasn't really complicated and he just hoped for something ... big. Important. Where he will be able to prove himself ... And here he comes across Snape! And prove yourself now, man!
On the contrary, he just felt like going on vacation!
Roger White stared at Harry Potter while thinking frantically. When he heard what the affair was about, he jumped almost literary. It was exactly what he was waiting for!
„Paul?" He muttered under his breath to his partner. "Maybe ... that's just my idea ... maybe we'll switch the affairs with them?"
Paul, tall and skinny man, gave him a long, thoughtful look.
"Well ... Actually it can be quite interesting" he replied slowly after a moment. "You think they'll want to?"
Roger got up with some difficulty and waved at Harry and Rich.
„I and Paul have a proposal for you ... Maybe we switch? Yesterday we got a suspicion of trading in Black bones… made from vax and hair and we haven't started it yet ..."
Harry hesitated and looked at Rich. The Black bones weren't very interesting, but he would have taken them willingly! Just you don't know if Rich will not complain ...
"If SNAPE is accusing someone of murder, it must be a big deal!" someone said.
„Oh no?! Damn it, I'd like to see that!
„Stay as far away from him as you can. He will lead you a dog's life."
"Frick and Frack, it's not nice to steal others jobs!"
"Whoever takes this case will be screwed."
"Harry, think twice about whether it is worth to take a risk. You still have years to make a career" a shy female voice joined in.
Harry felt literally torn between wanting to take this case, running away from Snape, and fearing he would offend his partner.
Rich, as if guessing it, gestured to him.
"Harry, it's up to you to decide. I know perfectly well that you and Snape don't get along too well. We've all been messed up with him, but no one can compare to you. It could either be an interesting thing or a nightmare. Take your pick."
Harry caught Paul and Roger's tense gaze and made a decision:
"Take it. And you'd better hurry up, Snape doesn't like to wait ..."
Roger grinned broadly, shouting "Yeah !" and Paul nodded and looked for a badge on the desk.
Rich smiled as he held out his hand to his partner, who squeezed it tight.
"Thanks a lot, Rich!"
"You're welcome, man. One round in Leaky Cauldron and that's it!"
As Roger passed them, he gave them the Black Bones dossier and strode after Paul.
Griffin's House, 17:20
When the Healer left, Snape sat down heavily on the edge of the tub and tried to calm down.
The same memory plaid in front of his eyes over and over again. He couldn't stop it. It was like a damaged old Muggle movie he'd once seen through some Muggles' windows. Powell was leaning over him, his face suddenly serious and he was saying, "What if I had no other choice?" They looked at each other for a moment, then Powell left the studio. And he heard the clatter of the spell closing.
Powell. You goddamn son of a bitch!
He wanted to get him, now, immediately. Hunt down and kill! Cast Crucio on him and keep for hours!
You killed your employee in a brutal way, just to get what you wanted. Bloody Drop! Just to have more clients, be able to brew more potions and won more galeons! You wanted to make sure that you passed this phase of the procedure successfully ...!
But at the same time he felt something was wrong. It was too simple, too obvious ... And ... too risky!
There was a frantic racing of thoughts in his mind.
Murder in the Lab at this stage ?! Absurd!
But he didn't die in the lab, but at home ... But someone would find him finally ... But nobody would know WHY he died, they would suspect some disease ... Maybe poisoning ... Poisoning ?
And suddenly he felt as if he had crashed against racing hippogriff.
"I have to go. I'm starving. I haven't eaten dinner and now I'm twisted. And on your one chocolate frog, I won't last long. Found it hidden on a stool under the table. " Chocolate frog in the lab! "By the way, you're lucky we didn't make it to Eight, because she would kill us for a grub in lab."
Powell? Or maybe someone else?
"I thought it was you. And that you did it on purpose to provoke Hermione, but I can see that one of those three idiots is competing with you. "
He heard himself: "Weird. None of these morons are allowed to go in alone. "
Could it be one of them ?
"I do not suspect Leoncius of being so careless, especially since the second phase of his sacred procedure has just begun. Anyway, the frog was great."
The frog was great ... A frog that absolutely had no right to be there!
The idea of chocolate frog triggered another one, linked with something… with something he had seen very recently... or rather heard ... just this morning ...
Suddenly he recalled. Those goddamn Weasley sweets! After all, they gave you fever and hemorrhages!
That, however, complicated everything.
It wasn't just Powell and those three idiots who could have planted it. It could be anyone. The front desk girl, the cleaning lady, the night watchman, any visitor ... Even Granger!
Goddamn bloody hell! But why?!
He looked at his dead friend and realized that Griffin's eyes were still open. As if he was staring with a blank, fixed gaze somewhere at the ceiling. He bent over him and gently closed them, leaving two red marks on his still moist lids and cheeks. It wasn't surprising, he was covered in blood.
He turned on the water and began to wash his hands slowly. The water turned red immediately, but gradually brightened, turned pink, then lilac until the color disappeared completely. He turned off the faucet and watched the water disappear down the drain. After a while there were only a few pinkish drops left on the wall of the sink. Two of them drained down suddenly, joining the third on the way and only one remained.
Snape stared at it, hypnotized and suddenly desperately wanted to keep it. As if that way he could keep the memory of Griffin. He had the impression that as long as he could see this last drop, he might still somehow deny his death. Do not give up. If it disappears, Chase will leave.
"Professor Snape?"
He jerked violently and accidentally slammed his wet hand against the wall of the sink, splashing water on it. The pink droplet faded even more and disappeared down the drain.
"Shit!" He cursed and turned.
He saw several men in the bathroom doorway. Two Aurors, a man with a camera and a stand and the Healer. The three newcomers stared at the floor.
"Roger White, Paul Bryant from the Auror Office," a very fat blonde came to his senses after a while and looked at Snape. "And Jeremy Kovalsky, our photographer. Maybe you remember us ...?"
Snape barely nodded and wiped his hands on the towel.
"Do you want to talk here, or should we go somewhere else?"
White, who had already reached out to him, froze.
"Yhh ... Let's go elsewhere" he muttered, lowering his hand slowly. "Jeremy, shoot everything here."
With one movement of his hand, Snape grabbed his arm, held him and squeezed him hard.
"You can SHUT your mouth up, White. Provided you can do it" he growled. "Now move on, I don't have all day."
The four of them stiffened for a second, then moved exactly in the same moment. The photographer jumped back, the Healer stepped back to give way to the Aurors, who turned and nearly burst out of the corridor.
As Snape pulled back the curtains, the daily light illuminated small living room. He sat down at the table and gestured to the Aurors. They sat down, Roger White taking the opposite side.
"Well, Professor Snape, Healer Johnson informed us today, just right now I mean, that you are reporting a murder?" He began in an uncertain tone.
„I'm not reporting a murder, but a suspicion of murder."
„Ah yes ... Can you tell us what's going on?"
Hearing this gibberish, Snape winced involuntarily.
"What is going on?" repeated in disbelieve. "To the point, there is a corpse in the bathroom. A corpse of a man who I don't think died of natural causes, but was poisoned. I have some suspicions about the poison, or rather what contained it. A few days ago Griffin found food in the lab, that by no means was supposed to be there. If my suspicions are true, there are quite a few people who might have planted a poison. So it would be highly recommended that you start your investigation NOW. Maybe it will… increase your chances of success" he commented snidely.
White sent a pleading look at his partner, so the other cleared his throat and took over:
"I guess that it is you who knew the deceased and Healer Johnson was only called to help."
"What a brilliant deduction" Snape sneered.
"I just wanted to precise the order in which we should receive ... umm, testimony" Bryant said quickly. "I think it's best to start with Healer Johnson and allow him to come back to the Clinic."
Snape waved his hand in agreement and looked towards the corridor, from where there was a sudden hiss of magnesia and a bright light burst out.
The Healer described in a few words his meeting with Snape at the Clinic, a brief examination of the deceased and Snape's request to call for the Aurors, but made no mention of his desperate attempt to heal Griffin.
"I'd like you to give us that memory" said White, who in the meantime took out his notebook, quill, and ink bottle from his bag and took notes on his knee.
"Unfortunately, that's impossible" Johnson objected. „The magical bond between the Healer and the Patient does not allow this."
"But professor Snape is not your patient?" Bryant asked, surprised.
Johnson shook his head.
"Sorry, I didn't make myself clear. It is true that my patient was Mr. Griffin because I was called to see him, but all those who give me healing information are also protected by the same bond. In exceptional cases like this, I have the right to answer questions, but I cannot pass them on to you in any way. I cannot show you this memory and Legilimency is not an option, either."
"Well ..." Bryant sighed, with a hint of defeat. "What do you think about the death? I will make myself clear. Do you think, this is murder, or could it be a natural death?"
The Healer thought for only a few seconds.
"It looked ... terrible. I admit that I have never seen or heard of anything like this. Judging by the completely damaged internal organs and the color of the blood, there is a very high probability that Mr. Griffin has been poisoned. Or ..." one could see a fear in his eyes "it's some Muggle disease that has moved to us."
Hogsmeade, two hours later
During Snape's interrogation, Healer Johnson returned with two colleagues and took the body to the Clinic. The photographer disappeared as soon as he finished taking the pictures and the two Aurors must have felt clearly uncomfortable because they decided very quickly that they finished for today. They eagerly accepted Snape's offer to notify Leoncius Powell about his employee's death and were off in a few seconds.
Snape took a last look at the empty floor, smeared with blood, turned off the bathroom light and after leaving Griffin's house he desapparated to Hogsmeade.
He was no longer as convinced of Powell's guilt as he had been only two hours ago, but that didn't mean he put aside his suspicions. Powell would have to be crazy or have very special reason to kill Griffin, but there were plenty of madmen. For twenty years he served two - one of them was possessed with a lust for blood and murder, while the other was able to sacrifice the lives of blind, trusting people for the greater good.
He appeared in the middle of the crowded street. It must have been raining heavily when he was talking to the Aurors, because there were deep puddles everywhere. People tried to avoid them hurrying in all directions.
Snape just ignored them. He crossed the street and looked at the glass door, tugging on the bell. For a moment he saw his reflection; big black eyes, pale face, strands of hair on his cheeks torn by the wind and pursed lips. Suddenly, somewhere deep in the house a light flared on and his face was replaced by a vague silhouette approaching the door.
The butler bowed deeply to him and let him in.
" Please come in, Mr. Powell will be here soon."
Snape waited quite a long time. When Powell arrived he was clearly surprised.
"Severus! To what should I owe this pleasure?"
Snape restrained himself with the greatest difficulty.
"Will you invite me to the rooms or will we talk in the corridor?"
„Of course! Forgive me, but it's not every day my employees come to my house ..."
They went into a small room. Powell sat back in the chair and gestured to the other, but Snape shook his head.
"Griffin is dead," he said without preamble. „He was murdered."
Powell changed in one second. Smiling a moment ago and leaning comfortably on the armchair, he straightened up sharply, his eyes widened and his face stretched out.
„Merlin ! Severus ...! Griffin ... mm-mur ... " He gasped.
That was exactly was Snape was waiting for. He reached him in two steps, pushed him back into the chair and catching his face he looked into his eyes. He wasn't gentle at all and Powell screamed as he burst into his mind.
He immediately found fresh memories, broke into them and began going through them one by one.
Each useless memory he throw away and reached for the next one. He looked for something strange, disturbing, surprising. Images appeared faster and faster. Powell screamed louder, but Snape ignored him. He slipped into his minds more deeply and reached for next one. Not this one, another one! And another! And again, faster, quicker! He slipped deeper. Searched more sharply. Frantically, violently. With fury.
Suddenly he saw a familiar face, Powell howled, something pulled him back and he fell backwards!
Someone pinned him painfully to the ground, so he struggled with all his force, pushed him away and sprang to his feet.
When he finally opened his eyes, the butler and cook rose from the ground and Powell squirmed in his chair, clutching his head in his hands. Only few seconds later a loud, choppy sob hit his ears and then he realized that he also was panting.
The butler took a step towards him, so he flicked his wand and both men were thrown out of the room, the door slammed with a bang just after.
Catching his breath, he knelt beside Powell and brought his wand to Powel's head.
"Tranquillis."
Powell groaned again, slowly relaxed and slumped limp on the broad backrest, his hands still pressed against his temple. Snape sat down in the opposite armchair and waited a moment for their breathing to slow down. There were calls and fists into the door, so he cast Silencio. The screams stopped and the only sound was the banging.
"Who it was?"
"What the… bloo… dy hell… you are..."
"Who it was!
"Mick Anders."
"In the Lab?"
"Dropped in secret, only for a moment. What was that supposed to be, Severus ?!"
The banging got harder, but Snape ignored it.
"It's called Legilimency, Leoncius."
"But why?!"
"Griffin was murdered. I wanted to see if you had anything to do with it."
This shocked Powell.
"WHAT?!"
Suddenly a face appeared out the window and Snape felt he had had enough.
"Can you tell those clowns of yours to stop fooling around? Unless you don't want I tell you more."
After a brief hesitation, Powell stood up with obvious difficulty, waited a moment to catch his balance, and lumbered to the window. He struggled with it for a moment, but finally managed to open it with a loud clang.
"All right. I'm fine," he called out loud. "Can you give them their voice back?"
"Of course. You also can. Finite Incantatem" with two flick of his wand Snape took off Silencio from the two men.
"What exactly happened?" Powell asked, slumping heavily into the chair and clutching his head again. "Did you see anything? Did you hear?"
"I found Griffin in his bathroom. He was choking, so I called for a Healer, but it was too late. He had an internal hemorrhage and drowned in his own blood."
"Holy Merlin ... !"
"He was already unconscious when I got there, so he didn't say anything," Snape added mercilessly. Powell froze and looked at Snape in shock.
„You don't suspect me, do you ?!"
"What do you think? After I refused to lead Granger and you asked me what would happen if you had no other choice?"
"This is supposed to be a joke? !"
Snape leaned abruptly towards Powell.
"I'm not in joke mood, Powell! A man died in front of me two hours ago! He died in agony! Do you really think I can joke ?!"
There was silence for a long minute. Powell rocked back and forth in the chair like a scared little child.
„And that's why you read my mind?" He asked finally in a shaky voice. "You could have told me! Maybe if I let you, it would hurt less."
"If you knew anything about Occlumency, you might try to hide some thoughts from me. But you would have to be a master to do this while being surprised. As a consolation, I can tell you that you are in quite good company."
Powell opened his mouth, but then closed it and just stared at Snape.
„Merlin. Poor Griffin ... That's ... that's terrible news. Especially now..."
"I've got worse. I called for the Aurors."
"WHAT?! "
Snape got up and walked to the door.
"Good night, Leoncius. See you tomorrow."
As he spun on his heel, out of the corner of his eye he saw Powell, still scared. Then he disappeared.
.,.,.,.,.,.,.
At home, he poured into a glass a fair dose of Ogden's Fire Whiskey, sat down in an armchair in the living room and took a long sip. His mouth burned, but he took another one and another without hesitation. His throat began to burn, but at the same time he felt some unbearable lump grow inside it that he couldn't swallow. He tried to drink it with more sips, squeezed his eyes shut and got lost in his own thoughts.
Here, hidden from the world, he could finally stop to hold back. He could finally let himself feel.
Chase Griffin.
He has seen dozens of deaths. Some were terrifying. The Dark Lord could take delight in seeing people tortured; their screams and howls must have been music to his ears. He also had blood on his hands, but whenever he could, he tried to do it quickly and painlessly. But those people were indifferent to him. Unknown to him Muggles, or wizards whom he tolerated at best. They appeared and disappeared from his life like torn, blank pages from a diary. Like the rising and setting sun. They passed away, leaving absolutely nothing behind.
After Griffin had left, he felt a painful hole in his chest. Chase Griffin was something completely different. He was SOMEONE.
He was the father, that perfect, good father that he never had and the only friend after Lily. He was someone he could always count on, no matter what. Someone who understood and accepted his sarcastic sense of humor and dared to reply with the same. With whom he could spend long hours on a passionate scientific discussion and with whom he could enjoy the silence. Who valued the importance of silence. Who didn't need words to say something to him and who didn't need legilimency to see his soul.
He was an excellent partner in the lab; well-organized, methodical and perceptive, he made them both adapt to each other and not one to the other.
This is how their friendship began. He remembered it as it was today. He was supposed to help Griffin brew a potion that would cause humans and animals to shrink and just at the beginning he told him to do exactly what he said. Griffin then smiled in a very strange way and replied, "You'll be surprised."
And he was surprised. He was delighted with their coordination, equal pace of work, mutual passion and commitment. A week later, at the end of the day, Griffin came to ask him about something and they got into a long discussion till eight in the evening. The next day he also came to him and just helped him to clean the lab and it has become their habit ever since.
They will never clean together again. No one will ever come again and without a word, without asking, will start closing jars or bottles with him, cleaning cauldrons or sending books back with spells.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
Just because someone poisoned him.
Deep guilt suddenly joined the pain. If he had only realized that it was poison, could he help him? Maybe it was just enough to shove the bezoar down his throat? If he had gone to see him early in the morning when he realized he was not at work ... would he have been able to save him?
He should do it! He should go and look for him! But he didn't and Griffin died. He died because of him!
With a soft click, the glass broke and shards of glass stuck into his fingers and the palms of both hands. At the same time, burning pain spilled over them as the remnants of the whiskey touched the cuts.
Snape hissed and cursed under his breath. It was time to pull himself together.
"Reparo!"
He winced as shards of glass broke away from his wounds and fused together. He put the glass on the table, healed his injuries and went to the bathroom.
He kicked off his clothes, stepped into the shower and watched the water trickle down his chest and hands for a moment, washing away the blood. Not only his own.
The last memento of Griffin has also disappeared with the last pink drops.
Griffin had gone.
Watford, Cassiobury Park
Thursday evening, April 17th
Peter and Harris were sitting on a park bench waiting for their boss to arrive. They had waited quite a long time and they were both starting to freeze.
"I don't like it," Harris muttered as he wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. "Whenever the Old Man is late, he's in a bad mood."
Harris looked around. The rapidly falling dusk reduced all the colors to different shades of gray. The pale gray path a dozen feet away was darkening and disappearing into the gloom of evening, where the faint black shapes of trees and bushes could be seen. The shapes of other objects have become blurred - benches, rubbish bins, decorative stones on the corners, broken branches or leaves on a gravel road, taking strange, unsettling forms.
Suddenly, somewhere nearby, they heard the flapping of wings and a soft croaking.
Peter shuddered, whether from cold or fear he didn't know. In his opinion, there was something ... wrong with this darkness. He had the impression that some figures were lurking there, talking to each other in insistent whispers. It's only the wind that moves the branches, you idiot. Stop fooling around.
A shape loomed in the distance. He grabbed Harris by the arm and pointed his finger at the shape without a word. The wobbly shape came closer and after a while they heard the crunch of gravel under someone's measured, quick steps.
"Let go of me!" Harris snorted and shook his hand off himself.
Seconds later, they recognized the silhouette of their boss and they both stood up.
"Good evening" Peter muttered at him.
"Not for everyone, Peterson" the other replied dryly. "Go on."
"The woman we gave the second potion die only this morning" Harris reported hurriedly. "About three days after eating chocolate frogs. We takes turns and watched her. Two days passed from the first of symptoms to death."
"Looks like I've found the right dose of the ingredients" added Peter. "I guess that's very good news."
To their astonishment, their boss shook his head.
"Compared to another one, not really. You screwed up again, you idiots. You also succeeded to kill Chase Griffin! I found out tonight. His friend Snape suspects a murder and notified the Aurors."
"Damn world ...!" Harris blurted, and Peter groaned.
"Exactly, Harris. Exactly. So we have to make a break, at least for a week, because now the Aurors are going to poke their noses into this. I don't know yet when or how long it will take, but there is nothing we can do during this time!"
Harris didn't know what to say. He was responsible for the safe implementation of the plan. He was supposed to make sure that no one track them and that no one found out about the disease before the time. Meanwhile, not only had he picked the one before last victim wrong - Muggle Healers had taken him to the Clinic before he died, but even worse, the disease had spread to a wizarding world! But in this situation, he decided not to talk about the deceased man.
"Sir ... I really don't know how it is possible ..." he began to excuse himself. "We always clean the laboratory very carefully and leave everything in perfect condition!"
"When we leave, there is not even a trace of our presence!" Peter said with equal fervor.
But these explanations only infuriated their boss.
"Shut up, Peterson! Don't be bigger idiot than you already are! If you had cleaned up, Griffin wouldn't have died in exactly the same way as the rest of the victims! So stop tell me stories!"
"We must have missed something" Harris admitted. "But we'll be even more careful from now on! There will be no more accident, I promise! "
"It better be, Harris. For your sake. For now, don't do anything, I'll let you know when the investigation die down."
Harris nodded, pale-faced, muttering, "of course." Peter could only nod.
"Merlin, I already thought he was going to kill us!" He choked as the dark silhouette moved away from them and disappeared into the thick darkness.
Harris had to agree with him.
"This time we made it. But next time we may not be so lucky."
Powell's Potion Laboratory,
Friday, April 18, early morning
It was only six in the morning when Snape apparated in front of the lab. Normally he didn't start work before eight, but this time he had a couple of reasons to arrive so early.
He couldn't sleep at night. For two hours he would roll over in bed from side to side and as his eyes began to close, horrible images from previous day appeared, mixed with nightmares from many years ago. Finally he got up, poured himself a glass of whiskey and lost himself in grim thoughts.
The chocolate poison frog haunted him. It didn't come to the Eight itself, someone had to bring it.
During the day, in order to enter to the building one had to either know the incantation to open the gate or be let in by the girl at the reception desk. At night, the Laboratory should be guarded by a night watchman. Snape decided it would be good to pay him an unexpected visit.
Besides, he wanted to check the guest list.
The cleaning lady came only once a week, on Saturdays, to not disturb them and not to touch the ingredients or potions, which sometimes had to simmer for several hours. The woman did a general cleaning and after she walked through, it was so clean that one could eat from the floor.
If she didn't bring the frog last Saturday, someone who was at the lab this week must have done it. Either employees or guests.
He opened the front door with the Alohomora, pushed it with his shoulder and entered the vestibule. It was completely dark inside, but when he reached the gate by heart and just for try he pushed it hard, something moved at the reception desk.
"Lumos ! Stand still and don't ... ! Ah, that's you, Mr. Snape ..." came the old voice of the night watchman.
The gate didn't move, so he whispered a long incantation, stepped into the hall and closed it behind him.
"Something happened that you arrive so early?" Muttered the old man, who during this time lit the cristal bubbles under the ceiling and left the reception desk, shuffling loudly.
"Stupefy!"
Snape caught him and supported his inert body. But the watchman wasn't light as a feather, so he immediately began to slide to the side. Snape cursed under his breath, immediately pushed his wand between his teeth, grabbed the old man with both hands and slowly lowered him to the floor.
He looked into eyes widen in shock, took his head tightly and whispered "Legilimens."
He didn't want to cause him pain, so he entered his mind very gently and began to look at his memories. The mind of the old man had been extremely well-organized and, to his amazement, he did not even fight with him. So Snape immediately found the memories of the night shift.
In order not to watch everyone, he focused on the slightly palpable emotions; he looked for surprise, fear, pain, or anger, but found nothing. So during the patrol, the watchman neither saw nor heard anything disturbing ... So he took a short glance at the two freshest memories, but saw only empty corridors lit by a dull oil lantern, passing slowly, closed doors to the labs and he heard only the shuffling of one person's feet in the silence. Besides, nothing.
He slipped out of the old man's mind, gently placed his head on the floor and stepped onto the reception desk. As soon as he entered, he noticed the bundles of parchment clipped together, so he reached for the first one from the top, marked APRIL 2003. The list for that week was quite short.
.,.
– April, 14th, 10:00, Albert Green, „Elixsir House" rep.
Reason – / . Visited person – Leoncius Powell
– April, 14th, 11:00, Gladys Gate, Storage Center for Ingredients class C
Reason – Summer offert. Visited person – Leoncius Powell
– April, 15th, 09:00, Hermiona Granger, MM. Dep. of Education, Civil Empl. Section R&A
Reason – Inspection for Fifth Drop proc. Visited person – Leoncius Powell
– April, 15th, 15:30, Michael York, Horacius Grey, „Cleanning Dream-Team"
Reason – contract renewal. Visited person – Leoncius Powell
– April, 16th, 09:00, Hermiona Granger, MM. Dep. of Education, Civil Empl. Section R&A
Reason – Inspection for Fifth Drop proc. Visited person – Chase Griffin
– April, 16th, 12:00, Alex Rayleigh, AR Group
Reason – / . Visited person – Leoncius Powell
– April, 17th, 08:00, Antanasos Christakos, Temistokles' Accesory
Reason – / . Visited person – Leoncius Powell
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Only one visit has been announced today
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– April, 18th, 09:00, Hermiona Granger, Dep. of Education, Civil Empl. Section R&A
Reason – Inspection for Fifth Drop proc. Visited person – Chase Griffin
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He concentrated and slowly and carefully read all the entries several times. When he thought it was enough, he scanned the list, counted the entries and put the parchment back in its place. It was time to go out of here.
He walked over to the old man and lifted him to a semi-sitting position.
"Obliviate," he whispered. "You will forget everything that has happened since I entered the hall. You'll only remember that you slipped and I caught you. "
With a wave of his wand, he removed the Stupefy and the man immediately tensed up and gripped his arms tightly.
"There now, I caught you!" Snape called and leaned the old man against the gate.
Feeling a support behind him, the watchman loosened his grip and slowly relaxed.
"Thank you very much ... " he sighed. "Merlin, I'm a real screw-up... "
Snape stood up and brushed dust from his trousers.
"When you take off those worn-out slippers and start wearing normal shoes, you won't fall over your feet " he snarled, then hesitated and looked at the old man in silence.
Oh, say it, old man! I won't wait for this all morning!
"Can ... can you help me up?" The old man asked timidly.
Snape grimaced in disgust, grabbed him by under his arms and yanked him hard.
"Next time, don't get out of reception. It is not me who you have to watch," he growled. "Are you all right?"
The watchman held on to the gate, waited a moment and nodded.
"Thank you again!"
Snape didn't answer. He turned and ran upstairs with ease, straight to the door to lab number eight. He wanted to see it before the rest of his colleagues arrive.
He didn't look for traces of brewing or mixed ingredients. In theory, only Powell, Griffin and him were allowed to work here, but in practice any other employee could enter. For another cauldron, a sharper knife or a better duster for powdered ingredients. And since the night watchman saw no one, that indicated someone who had come into the building during the day. Snape didn't know what he was looking for. That person certainly didn't leave his wand here! But maybe he lost something personal while planting the frog. An earring, a hairpin, a parchment that with a grocery list slipped out of his pocket ...
There was nothing on the stools. Holding on the table leg, he crouched down and took a closer look at the floor. There was absolutely nothing on it. He grimaced and stood up.
And as he got up, he saw something dark on the light gray floor. Earlier it looked like the shadow of a stool leg, but with the passing cristal bubble the shadow moved to the side and revealed a dark spot.
Snape knelt down and looked at it closely. It wasn't flat… In fact, there were even two stains, one a bit larger than the other.
"Lumos!"
The stains took on a deep chocolate color.
Chocolate Frog ...!
He smirked in victory. It had to be collected! He can leave one of them to the Aurors. The smaller one, because, as usual, they won't detect anything, so he didn't want to miss such an opportunity!
He summoned an empty vial and one silver knife and began to carefully scrape off the dried chocolate stain.