Chapter 3: Me, I suspect everybody till the last minute
Hogsmeade, 9 January 2022
He stands in the doorway, taking in the scene, his eyes swiftly moving over the compartment, making note of everything out of the ordinary. He performs several detecting spells to identify possible enchantments that could be associated with the incident. After finding none, he flicks a charm at his shoes to not leave any prints, and walks inside the compartment.
He spends a good ten minutes carefully inspecting the girl – a sixth year Hufflepuff, he was told. He notices the way she is positioned; in an odd angle on the floor, slightly curled into herself. Next to her is a bench that has a wooden edge streaked with blood. Aside from the obvious cause of her severe head injury – the one from which the pool of blood surrounding the girl is originated – there's a thick book behind her, lying on the floor. His eyes flicker to one of its corners that is facing the ceiling and not in contact with the blood on the floor – that too is darkened with blood.
He crouches over the book to take a better look at it.
Voices carry over to him from the distance. Someone is moving in the corridor, walking closer to him.
He glances over his shoulder to the door in the exact moment as two men appear at the doorframe. The other one lets out a disbelieving scoff.
"What the hell are you doing in here, Malfoy?" Potter, one of the two Aurors, asks, and when Draco stands up and turns to give him and the other one an unimpressed look, he continues, "This is a crime scene! You have no permission to be here!" He shouts, lifting his wand towards Draco.
Draco arches a brow at him, forcing himself to not let his eyes drop down to Potter's outstretched wand. "How kind of you to point it out, Potter," He hisses, and then takes in Potter's mixed look of anger and confusion and realises something. "Didn't our beaver-toothed boss tell you I'd be here?"
Potter still watches him with incredulity, but then – and Draco really tries not to smirk as he sees it, but fails brilliantly – Potter's expression changes, at first into a deep contemplative frown, before the utter and terrified shock takes over his features.
He lets out a wheezing huff and stammers incoherently, "You! She – she said – and, and – bloody fuck!" Potter growls, trailing a hand over his unruly mop of hair. "You're the bloody crime scene investigator!"
Draco gives Potter a dry look. "In the flesh."
Potter gapes at him, his neck turning red. "I…I need a minute." He grunts and then he's off, walking briskly away, with the other Auror following him.
Draco lets out a weary sigh, closing his eyes to centre himself, but flinches when Potter's stomping feet bring him back only seconds later.
"What the hell, Malfoy?" Potter asks crossly, his green eyes blazing. "Crime scene investigator or not, you ought to wait until the Aurors check the surroundings for imminent threats and clear the scene for you. You should know this from your training," He says pointedly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gives Draco a once over.
Draco rolls his eyes at Potter. "Oh, please," he drawls. "A four-year-old could cast a simple Homenum Revelio along with the basic magic detection spells."
Potter scoffs, his face twisting, before he grits his teeth together, evidently to keep himself from lashing out, Draco reckons. He's quite enjoying the conversation so far.
Potter lets out a frustrated and desperate noise, and then stomps away again, grunting orders to the other Auror.
Draco shakes his head slightly and resumes his inspection. He is not daft; of course, he had done all the necessary detection spells to make sure the train was indeed empty and trap-free, before he approached the scene.
There was nothing out of the ordinary with the train's wards, or with the train; nor had there been any outsiders passing the wards, matching up quite well to what the train driver and the trolley witch had told him. And why had he proceeded the way he had, one might ask? Draco knows the importance of examining the body without delay – he knows that some evidence; potions, for example, might be difficult to identify after a certain amount of time had passed.
Ten minutes later, Potter arrives again, alone this time, a small frown between his brows. Time, during which Draco has identified the preliminary cause of death; traumatic brain injury, along with the fact that every speck of blood in the compartment is from the girl. He thinks it is rather curious.
"So, the wards were not breached by outsiders," Potter says expressionlessly. "Neither the driver nor the trolley lady saw anything out of ordinary."
Draco hums thoughtfully as he inspects the girl more closely, waving his wand slowly over her frame, performing more diagnostic charms. "Yes, I know." He doesn't see Potter, since he has his back on him, but practically hears the way Potter rolls his eyes at him.
"Of course, you do. Why would you let the Aurors do their jobs?" Potter says sharply. "Should've known this is what she meant," He continues, grumbling under his breath.
Draco wonders briefly if the she Potter mentioned, would be their boss, and what exactly the lovely Mrs Granger-Weasley had said to Potter. He takes in a calming breath before glancing at Potter, a blank look in his eyes. "Surely, as the Head Auror, you are more than capable to focus on the job, Potter, and not who you are paired with," he says icily.
Potter narrows his eyes, but his cheeks tinge slightly with red. He licks his lips before stating calmly. "Of course. What have you got?"
Draco is mildly surprised by Potter's behaviour, since he himself is bursting with the need to insult the specky git. But apparently, they are adults now, and capable of focusing on other things as well. "The blood on the book and bench are hers, in addition to what is spilled on the floor. No traces of dark magic," he says, before turning back to continue the inspection, crouching closer to the girl.
"What about the cause of death?" Potter asks firmly, murmuring a similar spell than Draco had to his shoes before stepping into the compartment.
"Traumatic brain injury," Draco says, pointing a finger at the wound in the girl's head. "No damage, bruising or wounds elsewhere." He flicks his wand a couple of more times before adding, "Time of death appears to be approximately two to three hours ago."
Potter hums thoughtfully, and Draco stands up once more, turning towards Potter to watch him frown at his timepiece on his wrist.
"Two hours ago, the train arrived to Hogsmeade," Potter mutters at his watch, and then takes in the scene with a focused frown.
His contemplative eyes move across the girl, the pool of blood on the floor, stopping on the edge of the bench, and then flickering to the blood-stained book. He hums thoughtfully and steps closer to the girl, watching curiously at the girl's posture and the way she seems to be squeezing her wand in her hand.
Potter pulls his wand and flicks it gently against the girl's wand. "Prior Incantato," Potter whispers, and a wand movement for the last spell of the wand appears in the air between them, gleaming in silver.
"A Locking Spell," Draco says quietly, his mind spinning with possibilities.
Potter nods, glancing behind him at the door, a calculating look in his eyes. "I wonder…" Potter mutters, and then stands up to wave his wand towards the door, to inspect the magic placed upon it.
"There's a Locking Spell…but…I cannot detect any Unlocking Charms," Potter states, glancing at Draco.
Potter narrows his eyes again at the girl. "It is possible that she merely locked the door to change into her robes," he says, glancing at the neat pile of school robes on the opposite bench, "and then she…slipped and hit her head to the bench."
Draco watches Potter silently. "How would you explain the book? Or the unlocked door?"
Potter chews the corner of his mouth. "The book; she could've been holding it, or tried to grab it before she lost consciousness…but the door…" He says, and glances at it, performing the detecting spells again.
"The door, I cannot explain," Potter says slowly, before letting out a long sigh, and then curses under his breath. "I need to go question the students who found her, along with the prefects who were patrolling the corridors – perhaps one of them saw something that could help us with this."
Draco gives him a curt nod. "I will analyse her blood for potions and poisons, examine the wound more closely and do some diagnostic spells before I'm ready."
Potter rubs the bridge of her nose, his glasses moving slightly up. "Her parents are at McGonagall's office. I'll talk to them about the situation, but they will most likely want to see her before you send the body to the morgue," Potter tells him wearily.
"You can send them here in an hour," Draco tells him, knowing that he doesn't want to work alongside with mourning parents, but also knowing how important it is for them to see their child. And Draco didn't always think like that… It was Scorpius, who made him like this, made him feel…compassion, apparently.
"Okay, thanks. Then, I suppose, meet me at the Three Broomsticks, let's say…" Potter mutters, checking his watch, "in three hours. If you're done by then, that is?" He asks, giving Draco an inquiring look.
Draco thinks quickly how long will it take to collect and analyse all the evidence with the probable interruptions. "I should be," he says after a short moment.
"Do you want me to pass on a message?" Potter asks, all annoyance and dislike absent from his bright green eyes.
Draco blinks, momentarily speechless, reminded of another time, another night; the last time he talked with Potter. The last time he saw that innocent, sincere look in his eyes. He swallows hard and forces those memories to somewhere deep in his mind, allowing the envy and indifference to surface. He has always had mixed feelings regarding Potter, and only understood them after he had reached adulthood, long after he had married Astoria.
When Draco doesn't say anything, Potter lifts his brows, "Malfoy? Want me to pass on a message to Scorpius?"
Draco clears his throat. "No. No need," he says quietly, not quite able to hold Potter's gaze.
Potter stares at him for a bit, before he nods and takes his leave.
Once he is positive that he's alone, Draco lets his shoulders sag down, taking in several deep breaths before continuing his inspection.
Hogwarts, 9 January 2022
Harry walks silently along the familiar path towards the front doors of the school. It has been quite some time since he last visited the place; it was probably Teddy's graduation, he reckons.
Keir and Quinn trudge behind him, murmuring quietly as they approach the school. Harry left Berrycloth, Fungbury and Ron to the station and Hogsmeade. His friend was not pleased, but understood that he could not really provide them help in taking statements at Hogwarts, as he was no longer officially an Auror – and Harry insisted that he would be most useful at the village, which he knows like the back of his hand. Harry still promised Ron to check up on his children. And his brothers' children. Which Harry thinks will probably take at least an hour, since there are so many of them.
He feels overwhelmed already, even though the night is only beginning, and he knows that it will be several hours before he can even dream of catching a bit of sleep.
"Sir," Bones greets Harry, Keir and Quinn from the foot of the stairs that lead to the front door.
Harry gives Bones a nod. "Anything to report?"
Bones shakes her head, an expressionless look on her face. "Nothing unusual on the grounds or inside the school.
Harry frowns, knowing that they'd better find something soon to eliminate the threat. There are too many people who might be in danger, and too few to protect them, as most of the students are underage.
As they step into the Entrance Hall, Harry greets Professor Moonstone – the Head of Hufflepuff house. The girl was one of the students in his house.
"Potter. Long time, no see," Moonstone says steadily.
Which Harry thinks is not actually the truth, since he floocalled Moonstone only the previous week – but, they haven't seen each other in person for a long time.
Moonstone's not ten years older than Harry, but he was Harry's teacher for a short while. They met, when Harry went back to Hogwarts to take his NEWTs. They spent some additional time together, mostly when Moonstone helped Harry with his Transfiguration skills, and during those times they talked. About the war, magic, their pasts, and everything else under the sun. After Harry's graduation, they became friends.
Moonstone is immaculately dressed, as always, his brown hair neatly done, but his owlish features now darkened with seriousness. Harry nods at the man. "Moonstone."
"The Headmistress is with Miss Travers's parents, expecting us there shortly. I have been in touch with the school governors, and asked them to inform the students' families about the…incident. There will evidently be concerned parents arriving to the village tomorrow," He says, and glances at Bones, Keir and Quinn before moving his eyes back to Harry. "Shall we?"
Harry gives him an agreeing gesture to lead the way, and Moonstone does so. "Longbottom is keeping company to one of your Aurors stationed in my house," Moonstone explains as they take a detour from the Entrance hall, slipping behind a tapestry and making their way through the narrow passage towards upstairs.
They are quiet, until they reach McGonagall's office.
"Glacius," Moonstone says to the gargoyle in front of the entrance to the Headmistress's office.
The gargoyle leaps away, revealing the familiar circling stairs Harry hasn't seen in such a long time. The stairs take them upstairs, and after knocking to the door and hearing a quiet 'enter', they step into McGonagall's office.
It is quite different from what it was when Dumbledore had been there. Bittersweet memories lift their head in the far corner of his mind as Harry takes in the room; all the peculiar trinkets and apparatuses are gone, replaced by practical bookshelves and chests of drawers. There's a seating area in front of the fireplace, occupied by McGonagall who looks very tired, and very devastated looking man and woman. The man with dark short hair and pointy nose is not much older than Harry is, while the woman who is blonde and willowy, is definitely younger.
"Good evening," McGonagall says to Harry, Moonstone, and the Aurors. She then turns to the man and woman. "This is Auror Potter, who will be leading the investigation," McGonagall says, gesturing at Harry. "Auror Potter, meet Mr and Mrs Travers," She continues, as they all stand up.
Harry greets the parents politely.
McGonagall gives him a strained smile. "Auror Potter, why don't you take a seat with us – I believe we all would like to hear an update about the situation."
He then explains what they have established so far; that nothing out of ordinary was found from the village, the station, or from the school. He tells the parents that his crime scene investigator is still investigating the scene, and that they can go see their daughter in a bit over thirty minutes if they so wish.
He tells them and the Headmistress, that Miss Travers's death occurred before the train reached Hogsmeade. When he tells them the cause of death; a severe head injury caused by an impact on her head the mother, Mrs Travers, bursts into tears.
McGonagall sniffs and gives Harry a horrified look.
Harry gives the parents a moment to collect themselves before he continues, explaining that he didn't find any traces of magic of anyone else except their daughter's in the compartment.
"What does that mean?" Mr Travers whispers, looking anxious.
Harry chews the inside of his cheek, remembering the book and the edge of the bench, both streaked with blood. "She had a wand on her hand. Her last spell was a locking charm, which I detected from the door. But I could not detect an unlocking charm. Yet, somehow, the charm broke," Harry says gravely.
Mrs Travers gasps, while McGonagall gives Harry a contemplative look.
Moonstone clears his throat behind them. "Miss Westen and Mr Woods – the prefects who found Jenna, and who were also her close friends – informed us that the door had been closed but unlocked," Moonstone says slowly, a deep frown between his brows. "They saw no one else there."
Harry gives Moonstone's words a contemplative moment. "We need to question them – all of the Prefects. I assume they were all patrolling the train during the trip?" Harry asks, looking from Moonstone to McGonagall.
McGonagall nods. "You may certainly question them in the company of their Head of House, but should there be a need for more thorough interrogation," she says, giving Harry a pointed look, "you must know, that you will need a permission from the child's guardian."
"Naturally," Harry says. Merlin, he hopes it will not go to that – Veritaserum or Legilimency, that is. "Is there anyone else besides the Prefects and Head Boy and Girl, we should talk with? Anyone, who was in close relations with Miss Travers?"
"Nate Riley," Mr Travers says, his voice hoarse. "Nate and – and Jenna. They were dating."
Harry nods slowly, watching as Keir writes everything down into a small notebook. "He is from Hufflepuff as well?"
"Mr Riley is from the Ravenclaw house, but I presume he is currently in the Hufflepuff common room?" McGonagall says, giving an inquiring brow at Moonstone, who nods back at her.
"May I suggest that you carry out the questioning in the offices of the Head of House? Meanwhile, I would like to keep one of your Aurors in each house common room, just in case," McGonagall says.
Harry agrees, and tells McGonagall that he will first summon all his Aurors to the Entrance Hall to have them updated before moving on with the investigation. McGonagall tells them that they will have until midnight, and after that the students should be allowed to turn in for the night.
The parents leave with Moonstone, who escorts them to the station to see their daughter. Harry agrees that he or one of his Aurors will meet them in the village the next day to give them an update about the investigation.
Harry knows they are on a tight schedule, and they most likely will not have time to question everyone before midnight, as it is already nine-thirty in the evening. Regardless, he summons the rest of his Aurors stationed in the school to meet him, Bones, Keir and Quinn in the Entrance Hall, from where they proceed into a small classroom down the hall.
"So, to make it short; nothing unusual was found on the school grounds, inside the school, at the station, or at the village. We are still not sure whether the girl was a murder victim, or if her death was caused by an accident – nor do we know if other people can be connected to the incident. There are some things that do not add up; she locked the door of the compartment she was found from with a spell, but there weren't any unlocking charms placed on it afterwards. However, according to the students who found her, the door was unlocked. There also seem to be two possibilities how the wound in her head – and the severe head injury that is the cause of her death – could have been caused. Our crime scene investigator can confirm the cause later," Harry explains after locking and securing the door with silencing charms.
His Aurors stare at him with speculative and grim looks.
"What about the train?" Bones's partner Smith – a red-haired, thirty-something year old man – asks, "Did the driver or the trolley lady see anything?"
Harry gives a quick shake of his head. "The train driver and the trolley lady were both questioned. They had not seen or heard anything abnormal. The train wards were not breached by outsiders," he says, and Smith, along with several others, seem slightly disappointed.
Higgins, Bletchley, Walter and Parkinson give Harry reports about the wand-check process; nearly half of the students' wands have already been inspected, but nothing alarming – and no Unlocking Spells – has come up yet.
"Berrycloth, Fungbury and Weasley are patrolling the station and Hogsmeade," Harry continues, "Higgins, Bletchley, Walter and Parkinson will go back to the common rooms until we have cleared the threat – expect a nightshift, and communicate if there is anything suspicious," Harry says to the Aurors in question; who all nod grimly.
"Peele and Prone, you patrol the school corridors, while Bones, Smith, Keir, Quinn and myself will start questioning prefects, the Head Boy and Girl, as well as the late Miss Travers' boyfriend," Harry says, and then gives the Aurors more specific instructions about who will be questioning prefects from which house.
He gives Gryffindor to Bones, Slytherin to Smith, Ravenclaw to Keir and then heads towards the kitchens and the Hufflepuff common room with Quinn and Higgins.
"Let's start with Miss Westen, shall we?" Harry tells Quinn with a low voice, as they stop in front of a pile of large barrels.
Quinn gives Harry a curious look. "Why her? Why not the boyfriend, who probably accompanied her in the train?"
Harry narrows his eyes at the barrels. "I have a feeling."
Quinn doesn't say anything, but his lips twitch slightly upwards.
Harry taps the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, with the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff', as McGonagall instructed to his Aurors, when Harry had been visiting the crime scene.
The barrel turns into a narrow and low passage going upwards. Harry nods at Quinn and Higgins before they enter, one behind the other, ending up into the cosy and round common room decorated with bright yellow and black and with several tables and chairs here and there as well as with plants and flowers hanging from the walls and the ceiling.
Harry would have liked to marvel the atmosphere in the room, study the portraits - especially the one of Helga Hufflepuff holding her famous cup - and sit by the fireplace in one of the very comfortable looking armchairs, but he had a job to do. Harry's eyes sweep over the students in the room, meeting mostly frightened expressions. His eyes stop at a group of three; a girl with tear-streaked face, a boy who looks shaken, and another one with a haunted expression etched on his face.
"Harry," Neville greets quietly as he steps closer to Harry, Quinn and Higgins.
Harry gives Neville a small, tight smile and gestures at Higgins. "Auror Higgins will be stationed here for the night," he murmurs the words, as approximately seventy pairs of eyes watch their conversation carefully.
Neville gives him an understanding nod. "And I will stay here until Leonard returns," he says kindly. "Do you know where his office is?"
Harry feels a flicker of amusement, and briefly wonders how many times he has actually visited the office, both during McGonagall's time and Moonstone's. "I believe so," he merely says, and then clears his expression before glancing at the group of three students. "Is Miss Westen there?" He asks from Neville, who confirms Harry's assumption with an agreeing gesture.
"You wish to question her first?" Neville asks quietly.
Harry nods. "Her, then Mr Woods, then Mr Riley," he says, and when Neville frowns slightly, Harry adds, "Quinn will accompany the students there and back."
Neville seems relieved, as Quinn merely nods with a blank expression.
Harry groans, stretching his back as soon as Quinn leaves Moonstone's office, accompanied by Mr Woods. They have ten minutes before he would come back with Mr Riley. The boyfriend.
Neither Miss Westen's nor Mr Woods's questioning gave Harry much. Their stories were identical – not too identical to have been agreed upon, but enough to be valid. They had both been patrolling the train for the most of the ride, and had only briefly sat down with Miss Travers and her boyfriend. Miss Westen had told them – after Harry had asked if there had been anything concerning or unusual in Miss Travers's relationship with her boyfriend – that Mr Riley was somewhat of a jealous type, but that was only because Miss Travers had had a lot of history with other boys.
Harry wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but he assumed the girl had been dating other people before Mr Riley. He had asked Miss Westen, if Mr Riley had had a reason to be jealous, and she had said no; he did not.
"What is the great mind thinking?" Moonstone asks quietly, standing up from his chair and flicking his wand at the teapot on a side table. "Tea?"
Harry gives an affirmative grunt, trailing a hand through his hair as he turns to watch Moonstone fix them tea. Even though Miss Westen's story matched Mr Woods's, something doesn't seem right. But he doesn't know what it is. Not yet.
"I dunno…" He mutters, slumping into a chair in front of Moonstone's desk, feeling like a seventh-year student again.
Moonstone gives him a grin and flicks his wand to send the teacup to Harry, who sighs with content after the first sip.
"Anything I can help you with?" Moonstone asks, taking a sip himself after taking his seat behind his desk.
Harry thinks it over. "What kind of student was she? Miss Travers?" He asks.
Moonstone hums, looking thoughtful. "Not…outstanding, but good enough. Her grades were decent, and had she kept those up during her final year, she probably wouldn't have had any problems receiving the entry-level position in the Ministry she was aiming for."
Harry lifts his brows in curiosity. "Oh? Where was she hoping to get assigned?" Harry knows that all main departments accept research assistants; a position, where one does have the possibility to move up in their careers, depending on the results of their assessment, and the chosen career path. Peele and Walter had both been research assistants for the DMLE at first, before applying to the Auror Academy.
Moonstone gives Harry a wry smile. "The Law Enforcement."
"What about her friends? Old boyfriends? What kind of relationship had she with Mr Riley?" Harry asks after a short silence.
Moonstone grimaces, putting his cup down. "Boyfriends – no, I'm afraid I do not know about her past relationships, nor the nature of her relationship with Mr Riley. But as for friends…she seemed quite close with Miss Westen," He says, and then his expression changes into a contemplative one.
"What is it?" Harry asks sharply, watching Moonstone carefully.
"I did hear Miss Travers bickering with Mr Riley in front of my office, before the holidays," He says slowly.
"What about?" Harry asks curiously.
Moonstone stares upwards, as if trying to remember the occasion. "They were…talking about someone. Names were not mentioned, but it seemed that Mr Riley was upset," he says, giving Harry a steady look. "But that might not mean anything."
Harry chews the inside of his cheek. "But it might," he says slowly, and then lets out a weary sigh.
He takes off his glasses and rubs them on the fabric of his Auror robes, before placing them back on. He then glances at the timepiece on his wrist. Almost ten-thirty. He decides to question Riley and then leave Quinn to it, as he needs to still check the kids – Molly would murder him if he didn't – and then make it to the Three Broomsticks before midnight to meet Drac…Malfoy, that is. He hopes Malfoy has found something that could help them solve this mystery faster.
There's a sharp knock on the door before it opens. Quinn and Riley step inside. Harry stands up from his seat while Moonstone flicks his wand to clear his table from teacups.
"Mr Riley," Harry says kindly, taking note of the ghostly pale and frightened expression on the student's face. "Take a seat," he says and gestures at the seating area with three armchairs, two facing one.
Harry takes the lone armchair while Moonstone and Riley sit next to each other, facing Harry. Quinn hovers further in the room, observing quietly.
Riley is tall and well-built; a bloke who seems like he would be popular among other students. But as he sits in the armchair, Harry reckons he looks rather weak…like he's lost.
"As Professor Flitwick is needed elsewhere, I will act as your Head of House during this questioning, and will speak with him before tomorrow, so that he knows – as your actual Head of House – what we discussed today with the Aurors," Moonstone tells Riley. "Would that be all right?"
Riley gives Moonstone a shaky nod. "Yeah."
Harry clears his throat and fixes his gaze at Riley, who looks back with reserve. "Mr Riley. Why don't you tell us about the train ride? Start from the beginning," Harry says, his voice stern, but his expression kind and approachable.
Riley starts to explain the events, from the moment he stepped on the train, to the moment he met his girlfriend; during which he chokes down a sob. He continues after a moment to describe how he spent time with his other friends – Harry asks what the time was then, and if it was closer to Hogsmeade or London. Riley tells him that he thinks it was closer to Hogsmeade then, but that he definitely met his girlfriend briefly, before the train reached to Hogsmeade.
"Why didn't you stay with her and go to the school together?" Harry asks, watching how Riley's cheeks tinge slightly with red.
Moonstone gives both Riley and Harry a scrutinising look.
"I, um…I…." Riley mutters, seemingly embarrassed.
Moonstone pats him on the shoulder. "You can tell us, Nate. The other students will not find out what is spoken in this room," he says gently.
Riley nods slowly. "We were, um…" He glances at Harry and Moonstone, before quickly looking at the floor, "snogging, in a compartment. And then Jenna…she was distracted," he says with a deep frown. He moves his gaze up to meet Harry's, who studies carefully his features.
"What was distracting her?" Harry asks, and sees how Riley's posture stiffens briefly, before the boy relaxes and clears his throat.
"I dunno. She didn't tell me," Riley tells Harry, holding his gaze. "She was stressed out by something, and I…kinda," Riley says with a grimace, "was frustrated by that. She blew me off, told me she'd need to change into her school robes and that she'd go to the carriages with Skylar, and that she'd meet me in school."
Harry narrows his eyes slightly. "And how did that make you feel?" He asks, wondering if that would be enough for the bloke to actually harm his girlfriend – or worse; accidentally kill her.
"Harry." Moonstone warns, evidently knowing where Harry's thoughts, and his questions are going.
Harry's steely gaze briefly meets Moonstone's, before he focuses back to the boy. "What happened after you left her…in the compartment?" Harry asks, wondering if Riley was the last person who saw her alive.
Riley shrugs. "I went to hang out with my dorm mates – Tristan and Carter – for the rest of the trip."
"What time was it then?" Harry asks.
Riley frowns a bit. "I'm not sure," he mutters. "Maybe forty-five minutes before we arrived to Hogsmeade? Could have been less…" His eyes widen then, and he gives both Harry and Moonstone a horrified look. "You don't think I had something to do – no!" He says, standing up, looking furious.
"Sit down, Nate." Moonstone says sternly. "We don't think anything, yet, isn't that right, Auror Potter?" Moonstone says calmingly, his eyes narrowing at Harry's.
Harry gives him an agreeing nod. "That is right," he says and clears his throat. "We simply need to know everything that happened on the train, to help us find out if there was someone who was involved in Miss Travers's death," Harry explains coolly.
Riley looks contemplative, but sits down again.
"Was the brief encounter in the compartment the last time you saw Miss Travers?" Harry continues.
Riley nods his head. "Yes, it was," he says, his voice thick.
"Is there anything else that happened during the trip? Or anything else you would like to add?" Harry asks.
Riley grits his teeth together. "I've told you everything I know."
Moonstone gives the bloke a small smile. "Thank you for that, Mr Riley," he says, before lifting a brow at Harry. "Would you like to ask anything else?" Moonstone asks from Harry, evidently meaning for Harry to speed the fuck up, since Riley starts to look rather worn out by the questioning.
Harry nods. "Was there anyone who didn't get along with Miss Travers?"
Riley frowns at Harry, and then glances away before looking back. "No…I don't think so. She – she didn't quarrel with anyone," he says, looking slightly edgy.
Harry thinks over Riley's answers, and something – like in Westen's case – is bothering him, but he is not sure what it is. He has the feeling that Riley had left something unsaid. Riley was probably the last person to see Miss Travers alive, but if he spent the last forty-five minutes of the train ride in the company of his friends, it could be possible that there was someone else who saw the girl after he did. For now, he knows he cannot press further without upsetting both the student and Moonstone. He needs to go over the results from other Aurors who are questioning the Prefects, and if indeed they do not find anything, he will have to approach Riley's parents to get the permission to question him under Veritaserum.
"Okay. That's all for now." Harry says after a short moment. "Auror Quinn will take you back to your common room."
Riley stands up shakily, looking rather overwhelmed.
After the door closes, Moonstone leans back in his chair and lifts his brows at Harry. "You think the boyfriend did it." He states, not asking, but saying what he thinks Harry thinks.
Harry gives him a small scoff. "He is hiding something. But I don't know what to think. Not yet."
Moonstone nods slowly, studying Harry's features.
"What?" Harry asks, knowing exactly what Moonstone is doing. What he's always doing – always trying to read people, to figure them out.
Moonstone gives him a small shrug. "You've changed."
Harry arches a brow at him. "Oh? How have I changed? And can I use your fireplace to floocall Hermione?"
Moonstone sighs, standing up. "You're more speculative. Harsher. But all of that probably comes with the job, hm?" He says, walking to his desk, his back turned towards Harry. "Have at it," he mutters, waving his hand towards the fireplace at the back wall.
Harry stands up and moves to the fireplace, mutters a spell to light it, before throwing a handful of floopowder into the now merrily dancing flames. He reaches Hermione easily, gives her a status report, and she tells him that she has been in contact with Ginny – who will arrive to Hogsmeade later that evening – and the rest of the Weasleys. She makes him promise to give her love to her children. She also tells Harry that no one has come forth about the incident, and everyone – including the Minister – is eager for Harry to solve the matter efficiently. They end the call after Harry tells her that he'll be in touch in a couple of hours, when he has gone through the results of their investigation for the night.
"How's the family? How's Ginny?" Moonstone mutters from his desk, where he is rifling through a stack of parchments.
When Harry doesn't reply to him, Moonstone lifts his head up, and evidently sees the look of uncertainty passing over Harry's features. "Harry?"
"Ginny and I…we're getting a divorce," He says quietly, fixing his eyes at the floor. "What we have – had – it hasn't been working for a long time now," Harry mutters, licking his lips. "She's been living in her own flat for the past four months. She's dating someone new. Mark." Harry says, grimacing slightly at the name of Ginny's boyfriend. Mark the Genealogist.
"Oh." Moonstone says very quietly. "I'm…I'm very sorry to hear that. How did the kids take it?" He asks, and when Harry looks back at him, he sees Moonstone watching him with a deep frown.
"They don't know yet. Ginny stayed home during the holidays – or the days she actually was not working." Harry says, feeling quite tired.
Moonstone nods slowly. "How are you doing?" He asks, his voice soft, and a concerned look in his eyes.
Harry shrugs. "I'm fine with it. It's been a long time coming."
Moonstone opens his mouth but before he can say anything else, Harry continues, "Quinn will continue with the rest of the Hufflepuff Prefects and the Head Boy. I have to check on the kids and then I'll meet my Crime Scene Investigator in the village."
Moonstone's worried expression very slowly turns into an amused one. "Malfoy, right?" He says, giving Harry an odd look just as Harry starts to walk towards the door.
Harry is aware that Moonstone only knows Harry's history with Malfoy from their schoolyears, and nothing else. But still, the look Moonstone gives Harry, makes him stumble in his steps. Makes his cheeks flame.
Harry continues through the door and slams it closed with more force than necessary after hearing a silent snort behind him. He cannot think about Malfoy right now. He checks the time – eleven – and lets out a weary sigh; he still needs to pop in at all houses, except Hufflepuff.
He decides to start with the dungeons, and goes back to the Entrance Hall, then takes the door on the right side, and walks down the set of stone steps towards the dungeons. In his mind, Harry goes over the answers from the three students, examining the details and if they had any inconsistencies between their stories, or anything that might have stood out. Why did Miss Westen tell him about Riley's jealousy? What was distracting Miss Travers? Another boy? Could Riley have done something out of jealousy?
Harry reaches the bare stretch of stone wall.
"Vipera berus," Harry mutters, and immediately, the stone wall opens up into a passage, revealing the large, underground room, resonating a greenish light both from the round lamps and the lake.
"Dad!" Albus gasps loudly, jumping up from a seating area near the entrance. He gives Harry a quick hug, and then looks slightly self-conscious, glancing quickly behind him. "Um. What is going on?" He asks quietly, looking worried.
Harry gives a calming pat on his son's shoulder, and then sees Scorpius hesitantly trailing after Albus. "Hey boys," He greets and then sees Parkinson, talking with two older students in one corner, while sweeping the room with his gaze every once in a while. He nods at Harry when their eyes meet.
Most of the students are in their dormitories, which Harry thinks is better, as they are only questioning the Prefects.
"Hold on a second, Albus. I'll be right back," Harry says and walks up to Parkinson.
"Sir," Parkinson says as soon as he sees Harry. The two students give them hesitant smiles and slowly take their leave. After they are outside hearing distance, Parkinson continues, "Nothing out of ordinary here. All students under fifteen have been asked to go to their dormitories. Smith is currently with Slughorn, in the middle of his fourth Prefect interview," Parkinson tells Harry promptly.
Two more to go, Harry thinks. Perhaps Smith will manage to question all of them before midnight.
He gives Parkinson a curt nod. "Smith will return to the village after midnight, along with Bones, Keir and Quinn. Peele and Prone will stay at school premises. Summon them if you need anything," Harry says, and then frowns a bit before adding very quietly, "In case of an emergency, send the usual messenger, but alert the teachers as well, since they are closer and can provide assistance faster."
Parkinson merely nods at Harry, "Of course, sir. Until tomorrow then."
Harry smiles tightly and turns back towards his son, to see Albus and Scorpius, and a handful of others watching him with anxious and curious looks.
He tries to give them a reassuring smile. "Everyone but Prefects into dormitories, please," He says coolly, and he's met with hesitant expressions.
"Auror Parkinson will be stationed in the common room for the night," he adds, and sees several girls looking calmer and more collected.
A group of girls leaves the common room, towards their dormitories, and they are followed by a handful of boys.
Harry walks up to Albus and Scorpius, who both haven't moved an inch.
"Dad?" Albus asks, his eyes moving fast between Harry's. "What's going on? Is there a mu – "
"Albus," Harry warns, knowing there are still several pairs of ears listening their every word. He glances at Scorpius, who looks paler than usual. "Scorpius, are you okay?" Harry asks, watching him more closely.
Scorpius blinks and swallows hard. "Yeah. I'm fine," he grunts, looking away.
"Your father sends you his best," Harry tries, and Scorpius's eyes whip back to meet his.
Scorpius looks a bit stunned, but then his expression clears into an indifferent one. "How kind of him," he says, his voice polite, but the meaning behind his words not as so.
Harry wonders for a moment, what is going on between the father and son.
"Dad?" Albus presses on, his green eyes expectant.
Harry puts a hand on Albus's shoulder and gives his son a grim look. "I have to return to the village. Parkinson and Slughorn will both stay the night here, in your common room," he says, and sees the doubtful look on Albus's face. "It is perfectly safe to go to bed," he adds, even if a small part of him wants to grab his son and side-along him straight to home until the investigation is finished. But then there would still be five-hundred students who do not have their parents present to whisk them into safety. At least, not yet.
"Who was it?" Scorpius asks silently, a blank look in his grey eyes – a look that almost makes Harry take a step back, as the boy in front of him reminds him painfully of his father.
Yes, Harry is aware of the fact that Draco and Scorpius look alike – quite like Albus and Harry do – but Scorpius is different from his father; he is, usually at least, carefree, smiling, polite, and open-minded. Whereas Draco…is not. Or was not. Harry couldn't really say, as he hasn't spoken with the man for a long time.
Harry clears his throat. "I can't say anything, I'm afraid."
"Was it Travers?" Albus whispers, and Harry barely suppresses a flinch.
Both Scorpius and Albus watch carefully Harry's every move. Harry cannot confirm it, he knows, since the information cannot be passed on from the Head Auror to his son and friends – it needs to come from the Headmistress, or from the Heads of House.
"We know it's someone from Hufflepuff, dad," Albus adds, arching a brow at him.
Harry purses his lips. "I can't say anything. You know this, Albus." He says pointedly, and Albus's cheeks go slightly red for being chastised.
"Go to bed, boys. Now." Harry continues, and gives them both a stern look. "I'll meet you in the morning, okay?"
Both Albus and Scorpius grumble something close to "G'night," under their breaths, and drag themselves towards the boys' dormitory. Harry waits until the door closes, before he gives Parkinson a nod and leaves the Slytherin common room.
The Ravenclaw is closest to the dungeons, at least with the shortcut Harry knows exists one floor up, behind the tapestry with the dancing monks. He walks in silence again, thinking of apparating to London and back to retrieve the Marauder's Map, since it could provide the Aurors at school some help; they could monitor the students more easily with it, and see if someone moves in the castle at night.
Of course, the map is over forty years old, and as it was made for the amusement of four students, there could be errors. But it couldn't hurt, Harry reckons.
He steps into the Ravenclaw tower after muttering "Fire," to a riddle asked by the eagle knocker; 'I am not alive, but I grow; I don't have lungs, but I need air; I don't have a mouth, but water kills me. What am I?'
Harry is met with a similar welcome than in the Slytherin common room, if not a bit louder, as Rose, Roxanne, Lucy, Molly and Louis all attack Harry with hugs and anxious questions. He manages to calm everyone down, and listens as Lucy – who is a fifth-year Prefect – starts to explain the questioning she went through, and sees how Molly becomes even more nervous, as she hasn't yet been to Flitwick's office with Auror Keir.
Molly is a seventh-year prefect, who Harry has heard, only narrowly lost the Head Girl title to her classmate Charlotte. And how does Harry know this? The answer would be James, who happens to date Charlotte. That said, Harry is not sure how much he should be trusting on what James tells him, as the boy is known from his mischief – enough so to make his two namesakes proud.
Bletchley tips her chin at the sight of Harry, a flicker of amusement crossing her features as she watches the group of girls and Louis pester Harry, demanding him to explain them everything…
Harry eventually manages to order all but Molly to go to their beds, promising that they will be safe, proceeding to give the same instructions to Bletchley as he did with Parkinson. He leaves the Ravenclaw common room and exhales in the corridor before making his way to the Gryffindor Tower.
"Haven't seen you in a while, Mr Potter," the Fat Lady says with a kind smile.
Harry smiles at the portrait. "It is good to be back, regardless of the not so joyful reason," He says, and then mutters the password, "Aconite."
The Fat Lady gives him a grim nod and opens, giving him permission to enter the Gryffindor common room – his home for seven years.
He exchanges words briefly with Walter, the young eager Auror, who seems to be getting well with the students, and has managed to calm them down somewhat, as James, Fred, Dominique, Lily and Hugo do not seem as anxious or worried as the rest of the children had been.
He hears that Dominique – a fifth-year Prefect and Bill's daughter – has been questioned by Bones, but when Harry asks if it went well, the girl simply shrugs him off with Fleur-like indifference. Lily and Hugo are both curious to know more, but do not badger him once he tells everyone they will receive more information from the Headmistress and their Head of House. Lily gives him a crushing hug, while James – who is somewhat quieter than usual – asks Harry to speak with him alone.
Harry accompanies James to the familiar, seventh-years' dormitory – which is in quite a mess, and definitely had not been that bad during Harry's time, he notes – and he watches as James walks up to his trunk, situated at the foot of the middle bed on the left side of the room.
"What is it, James?" Harry asks, stifling the urge to check the time – he is on the clock, as they say, and he really hopes that this is important. "I need to get going soon," he mutters.
James straightens up, and then turns, watching Harry with a hesitant look. "I'm sorry, dad," is what James has decided to start with, and Harry groans inwardly, already knowing it is nothing good.
"I…took something," James mutters, stretching out his hand, clutching a very familiar parchment between his fingers.
The Marauder's Map.
Which Harry had definitely not given to his son. But now, it seems, it is a good thing that James knows no boundaries and guilt – except only when someone has died, apparently – to go through his study; a room Harry has locked with charms that even a seventh-year should not be able to break, he adds in his mind.
Harry gives James a sharp look, and takes the Map from him. "Thanks, James. This could help us a lot. And you just spared me a trip to London and back," he says tightly, and is somewhat annoyed that James doesn't even have the grace to look embarrassed.
"Will you give it back? Afterwards?" He has the nerve to ask Harry.
Harry closes his eyes for a bit, praying for higher powers to give him patience, before he gives James a forged smile – something his son knows does not bode well, and proves Harry right by cringing slightly.
"We'll see, won't we," Harry says sternly. "Perhaps it couldn't hurt if you stayed here until the morning," he adds, and then walks towards the door.
He turns and gives James; who looks mildly disappointed, a small smile. "I'll see you in the morning, James," he says, voice softer now.
James grins back at him. "Will do, dad," he says, before Harry leaves the dormitory.
Downstairs, he orders the rest of the Weasley clan and his daughter to go to their dormitories for the night, promising to meet them the next day.
Harry suppresses a large yawn as he walks briskly towards the village. It is dark and cold and the snow glittering on the ground and the trees creates shadows in the moonlight. He has left the Map to Prone who will be in charge of the Aurors stationed in the school during the night.
The village is empty – there's only Ron, Berrycloth and Fungbury. Harry tells Ron that everything was well with his children, and that they haven't yet made any breakthroughs in the case. He tells Ron to turn in for the night, who does so albeit reluctantly, and asks if Fungbury had managed to get them rooms in the village like he asked earlier. He had, and tells Harry that Malfoy is already in one of the pub's private meeting rooms, waiting for him.
Fungbury volunteers to patrol the village through the night, when Harry informs that both him and Berrycloth are not needed there during the night. With that, Harry and Berrycloth make their way into the pub, to meet Malfoy.
Susan Bones – Harry's old classmate – runs the pub now, and she greets him heartily, before telling him that he shouldn't hesitate to ask if there was something he needed. She tells him that the pub is closed for everyone but the Aurors at this time of day, and that she will turn in soon, but her bartender; Douglas, will stay up for a bit longer, should they wish to eat or drink something. Harry gives her a grateful smile and tells her he quite appreciates her help.
Berrycloth goes to the bar to order them some food, while Harry takes a steadying breath before entering the private chamber of the pub.
Malfoy is there, with a handful of parchments scattered over the table. He lifts his head up, his gaze dropping at Harry, and Harry sees a deep frown between his pale brows. And now that Harry has more time and patience to actually look at the other man, he sees that only a little has changed since he last saw the blonde Slytherin; his hair is short and stylishly cut, his skin is as pale as ever, and his robes look expensive and sleek. However, there's a smudge of ink on his temple, and more on the tips of his fingers. He must have been scribbling his notes furiously after returning to the pub. Harry swallows hard, calming himself, forcing himself to stay cool and politely distant.
"Hi," Harry says tentatively, stepping forward. "There's, um, ink. On your – just – there," He mutters, pointing at his left temple.
Malfoy lifts a brow at him, and then sighs, cleaning his skin with a conjured napkin. "I could use the Quick Quotes, but I quite hate it when it mixes up my words and makes me sound like an infant," He grunts, and then cleans his fingers with a wordless spell.
Harry blinks, realising how he has been staring at Malfoy's fingers, knowing how he bloody well needs to get a grip of himself!
"Anything new?" Harry asks, sitting heavily opposite to Malfoy, who organises his parchments with a flick of his wand.
Malfoy looks slightly bothered, and glances away briefly, before giving Harry a serious look. "Well, yes, actually. But I suppose it is not necessarily good news," He says, pulling a book – the one that was lying in the pool of blood in the compartment they found Miss Travers from, now dried – from the chair next to him and places it on the table.
"There is something you should know." Malfoy says, to little avail, as he opens it at the same time, and Harry sees it. The inscription inside the book.
'property of Rose Granger-Weasley'