Author's Note: Thank you so much, livvylane, for reviewing! There will be some Harry/Albus interaction soon, on the Christmas holiday (Christmas in the book, of course, in reality it won't take that long!).
It's really great for me to see that there is someone out there who reads and likes my story. I'd be very happy, if there were even some more reviews for this chapter. Please let me know how you liked it :-)
"We have already deployed AWA-agents at Hogwarts territory. Our base there is currently hidden in the so-called 'Forbidden Forest'. We had to hide it well, otherwise the centaurs might spot our presence there," said Gorniak.
"Let alone this eagle-transforming teacher, Arrington. It would be nice to get him out of the way. His skills are extraordinary," spat Ragnuk.
"It's too risky. He is too powerful, we would risk to get captured. However, our agents' job would be a lot easier, if we could ally with the centaurs. They would really be valuable allies, so close to Hogwarts. It seems too risky to openly invite them to join us, though; some of them are annoyingly loyal to Hogwarts. One of them, Firenze, even used to teach there," said Urguk.
"We will just deploy our usual methods," said Ragnuk, smirking. "I'll command our agents to orchestrate a quick, nice murder. Firenze will be killed, and it will look like the deed of a wizard. After that, the centaurs will be on our side in no time. They have been waiting for an opportunity to give the wand-carriers a wipe for a long time. As always, just a little trigger is needed."
"How do you want to make it look like a wizard's deed?" asked Urguk. "Our ways and means of killing have been pretty distinctive of our species so far…"
Ragnuk smiled cruelly. "It will look like a wand carrier's deed, because it will be a wand-carrier's deed. An old friend of mine will do it, a wand-carrier. By a happy chance, this friend is a teacher at Hogwarts."
O
Charms still caused Albus problems. Sure enough, he managed the Levitation Charm without problems now; he had levitated objects in the Ravenclaw common room until he was one hundred percent sure to succeed. With many other charms, however, he still failed to develop the right feeling.
"You all know, by now, how to light the tip of your wand," said Professor Flitwick, whose lessons were usually very enjoyable. Flitwick's cheerful, somewhat lenient nature, the high amount of practical work and the frequent opportunities to have a little chat with the desk neighbours made Charms one of the most popular classes among the students.
"Sometimes, however, you will want to have a brighter light, possibly focused in a particular direction. Then you use the sunlight charm, which you will be learning today. The incantation for this one is 'Lumos Solem'. Please repeat, without wands, 'Lumos Solem'."
"Lumos Solem" the class chorused.
"Very good. The wand movement is a counter-clockwise loop, which ends with your wand being aimed at the target. Like this: Lumos Solem," he said, turning towards the blackboard and clearly performing the mentioned loop. Immediately, the blackboard was bathed in a nice, yellow light.
"Now it's your turn. Please aim at the wall nearest to you, so you won't blind your classmates. Show me what you can do," finished Professor Flitwick and jumped from his book pile, to help his students and inspect their progress.
Quentin took out his wand, aimed it at the wall next to him and confidently said: "Lumos Solem," adding a perfect counter-clockwise loop with his wand. His success was spectacular; for five or six seconds, the wall was shining in a bright, golden light.
Even Professor Flitwick seemed surprised at this performance. "Well done, Mr Simiol!" he squeaked. "Brilliantly, indeed! Ten points to Ravenclaw!" he shouted enthusiastically. "Ah, Mr Potter! 'Lumos' wasn't providing quite enough light for your taste, I recall. Please try it, I'm sure you will excel today!"
Albus cleared his throat nervously. "Lumos Solem," he said, concentrating as gently as he could. His wand gave a faint light, which faded after a second.
"Don't be so reluctant, show some more determination," Professor Flitwick encouraged him. Albus frowned, gathered all his willpower and firmly said, "Lumos Solem," while performing precisely the required wand movement.
A wave of glaring, blinding light erupted from his wand and suddenly, everything was white. Albus couldn't see anything anymore, not the wall, not his wand, not Professor Flitwick; he could only hear some students yelling in shock. After some seconds, the light vanished.
"Potter!" squeaked Professor Flitwick angrily, his eyes still screwed up. "Were you going to blind us all? We don't fool around in this classroom! You will write lines for me, if you please, fifty times 'I am a wizard, not a baboon brandishing a stick'."
"I don't understand that," said Albus furiously when the class was finally over. "I just can't properly dose my concentration. And now I even have to write lines for Flitwick! It was him, after all, who told me to show more determination!"
"Don't worry, Albus," said Quentin. "I will try to help you with Charms. Look, you are so brilliant in Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts. I'm sure, you will succeed at Charms as well, with your talent."
"Thank you, Quentin," Albus said gratefully.
"You can't blame Flitwick, though. I really felt, as if this light was burning my eyes out of my sockets," chimed in Scorpius. "Besides, the sentence you have to write is really funny, you can't complain."
Albus couldn't help laughing at this. It really did his heart good to have his two friends, who could always cheer him up.
"What gets wetter and wetter, the more it dries?" asked the polite female voice of the eagle knocker, when they reached the common room.
"A towel," said Scorpius matter-of-factly, and the knocker opened the door to the common room, not without praising Scorpius for his resourcefulness.
O
The teacher pulled the hood deeper in the face and entered the Forbidden Forest. The teacher was going to execute the goblins' conspiracy with the greatest pleasure. A centaur befriending wizards - that was a typical part of the modern world, the world Potter and Granger created, a world where such friendships were even promoted. The teacher didn't want the Dark Lord back; the teacher did, however, believe in the pure-bloods' superiority, especially in comparison to other magical creatures. What the teacher wanted, was a chaos and fragility of the wizarding world. Chaos almost always resulted in revolutions. The goblins were working for exactly this, so it was only logical for the teacher to temporary ally with them. And for this reason, the teacher had to execute this murder. The teacher didn't mind, though; the teacher had killed before, and killing was fun.
The teacher performed a Disillusionment Charm on himself and waited. It was exactly the same place Firenze was always using for stargazing. And, sure enough, the centaur soon came into the teacher's range of vision. The teacher felt a stimulating pulse in the veins and didn't hesitate for a second.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Before he could even realize what just happened, the blonde centaur dropped dead to the ground.
O
Harry was upset. There was yet another murder to investigate, a murder on someone he had known very well. Firenze was dead. His corpse showed clear signals, that the Killing Curse had been used on him.
Sadly, Harry took a handful floo powder. Firenze had been a great person; Harry couldn't understand how any wizard could possibly want him dead. Throughout his life, Firenze had always spoken up for more dialogue and cooperation between wizards and centaurs. In fact, he had been more popular among wizards than centaurs. The only motive he could think of was pure-blood extremism, which didn't seem very likely. There hadn't been any activities of pure-blood-fanatics in the last years; all former Death Eaters had been captured and imprisoned long ago. And even if there were still some of them out there; why would they kill Firenze of all people?
Harry sighed and stepped into the fireplace. Professor McGonagall had requested a confidential meeting with him.
"Hogwarts, Headmistress' Office" he said clearly, and a few seconds later he stumbled into Professor McGonagalls Office.
"Good evening, Potter," Professor McGonagall said crisply. "There will be no need to scatter ash all over my carpet."
"Good to see you as well, Professor," said Harry and looked around. Dumbledore's former office had hardly changed. Professor McGonagall was sitting behind her desk with a serious expression on her face. Next to her stood a tough-looking, thin wizard with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes. Harry recognized him at once: This was the Professor for Transfiguration, one of the world's leading experts in this subject, the Animagus Aaron Arrington.
"No offense, Professor Arrington, but I thought our meeting would be confidential?" Harry asked Professor McGonagall.
"We can trust Aaron," the Headmistress answered coolly. "He was perhaps the most gifted student I ever taught. I asked him to come as well, since he is exceptionally - ah - clear-sighted."
Harry nodded at Arrington in acknowledgement, who severely nodded back.
"I have called for you, Potter, to ask you about the current status of your investigations. Firenze's death has struck me personally. He was a great colleague and friend of mine. As the deed was committed on our school grounds, I have to contemplate the possibility that one of my teachers was involved in this. It wouldn't be the first time a Hogwarts teacher is running amok, in fact, as I'm sure you remember," said Professor McGonagall.
Harry was relieved that Professor McGonagall herself had raised this subject. He would have felt extremely uncomfortable in accusing her staff of containing a murderer.
"Indeed, there are some indications that the perpetrator might have come from Hogwarts," he said cautiously. "There are traces leading from the castle to the murder scene and back. This might, however, as well just been a ruse; one would think the murderer should have been clever enough to cover his tracks. The inhabitants of Hogsmeade haven't seen anything suspicious, but of course the perpetrator could have concealed himself easily. Still, we have to take the possibility into account that one of your teachers is behind this. I'm sorry," he added.
Arrington snorted. "You don't have a reason to apologize, Mr Potter," he said. "You wouldn't be doing your job if you didn't think that way. Besides, Minerva and I have already come to the same conclusion."
"Enough of this. Let's come to the point. Which teachers come into question? I think we can rule out Filius, Longbottom and Hagrid. Oh, and Binns, of course. Professors Vector, Sinistra and Babbling have been my colleagues for a very long time. I can't imagine anyone of them to commit a murder, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, glaring it Harry, as if he had just accused the mentioned teachers openly of murdering Firenze.
"Assuming you are right, only Reannon Botwright, Philandros Pyrites and Tyron Smethwyck remain," said Professor Arrington. "If Mr Potter is ready to believe that Minerva and I are innocent, obviously," he added drily.
"See, I am only doing my duty," answered Harry, a little taken aback by this. Arrington waved his hand impatiently.
"It's alright, Mr Potter, I was only joking."
"Reannon is a close friend of Pomona's," said Professor McGonagall. "I trust her completely, I must say, and I think, that everyone who knows her, knows that she is a great woman. It's very hard to see Philandros as a murderer, either, unless he is an extremely good actor. Tyron, honestly, I don't really like, I only hired him because of his outstanding abilities. Still, he was an Auror for so many years; he never used Unforgivable Curses, except in the Second Wizarding War. And why would he kill a centaur?"
Arrington snorted contemptuously. "Smethwyck's only outstanding ability is duelling. He is able to perform some spells with astronomical power there. In all other fields of magic, however, his skills are comparatively underdeveloped. He is, between ourselves, an idiot. Alas, idiots usually don't tend to be murderers."
Harry couldn't help but agree with this assessment. Still, he spoke out what was pressing his mind. "Be all that as it may, I will have to order my Aurors to examine the wands of the whole staff. Of course, a thoughtful perpetrator would have considered that beforehand. Still, it is a necessary measure."
Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together.
"I'm sorry, Minerva," Harry added.
"No, you're right, Harry. Of course you may examine the wands as you see fit. We have to do everything to solve this case, not only in memory of Firenze, but also to stop further crimes," Professor McGonagall said, drawing herself up to her full height.
"Thank you," said Harry relieved. "By the way, how have the other centaurs reacted?"
"Unsurprisingly, they are refusing any contact," answered Professor Arrington. "Hagrid tried to talk to them; I went into the forest personally, trying to reactivate some old contacts with Magorian. Without success, though. The centaurs don't want anything to do with wizards at the moment. You would be well advised to leave them alone for some time, I think."
"Very well. I will return with two or three Aurors in an hour or so, to control the wands. Thank you for your cooperation," said Harry and left the office.
O
Albus was extremely excited about the upcoming Quidditch tryouts. In fact, he had been practising the whole summer with James, who was the Gryffindor Seeker, to get into the Gryffindor team as Chaser or Reserve Seeker. Now, being a Ravenclaw, Albus' ambitions were even greater. The last days, his mind had been possessed with the desire to get into team, to the point that Scorpius asked him what he had told the Sorting Hat not to be sorted into Slytherin, with his burning ambition.
It came very handy that the former Ravenclaw Seeker had been a seventh year, so the position was now vacant. The captain of the Ravenclaw team, a sturdy sixth year who obviously was a Beater, introduced himself as Marquard Moon.
"Listen, everyone," Moon bellowed. "There are only two free spots in our team this year. We need one Chaser, and a Seeker. The rest of you might be taken as reserves, so you can still try out. There will be one reserve for each position."
Moon started with the Keepers and quickly decided on a new reserve Keeper. Impatiently Albus waited, while the Beaters and Chasers were flying. Then, after minutes that felt like ages, it was finally his turn. He had four rivals for the position of the Seeker, including his classmate Adnan Whitaker. Adnan smiled at Albus, but Albus didn't smile back. This wasn't the time for friendly banter. This was Quidditch, and Quidditch was serious.
Moon started testing their reactions by throwing tennis balls around and letting them catch them. This was an easy exercise for Albus, but he saw with satisfaction, that two of his competitors were already struggling and let some balls slip. Sure enough, Moon ordered them to leave the pitch at once, swinging his bat dangerously, so no one dared to argue.
Albus, Adnan and a tiny, pimply third-year had no difficulties with this task. To determine the best two, Moon ordered them to do a race over the pitch, with the other team members as living obstacles.
"Everything is allowed," he bellowed. "You just have to reach the other side of the pitch. The team will try to prevent you from doing so. The first two will be in the final."
Albus caught a deep breath. He had never been as nervous in his life as he was now, probably not at even at the Sorting; in fact, he was trembling.
Adnan, on the other hand, seemed quite relaxed and smirked at Albus, who was getting more and more annoyed by his friend's calm attitude.
"Start!" shouted Moon. All three raced off. Albus did his best to find his way past the other team members, who kept diving at him and his competitors. This turned out to be difficult, though, as they seemed to be approaching from all sides. Adnan, however, didn't seem particularly bothered by the attempts to stop him and seemingly effortlessly avoided all obstacles and finished first.
Albus clenched his teeth. The pimply third-year was flying right next to him. Albus grabbed his broomstick tighter. This was his last chance; there was no choice. He turned his broomstick and rammed his opponent as hard as he could. The third-year was caught completely off-guard and gratingly crushed into one of the looped goal posts. Several spectators cried angrily, but Albus paid them no attention and landed next to Adnan on the ground.
Moon, who had kept a straight face, didn't pay the loser, who was lying on the ground and groaning in pain, any attention. Instead, he said, "very well. You two are in the final. I will now release the Snitch. The one of you who catches it, will be our new seeker; the loser will be reserve. Understood?"
Both boys nodded. "May the better flier win," said Adnan, smiling at Albus, who didn't react and focused on Moon, who released the snitch.
Albus and Adnan pushed off from the ground and began searching for the golden Snitch. The longer they were searching, the more impatient grew Albus. His impatience soon turned into despair, when there was still no sight of the Snitch. He couldn't bear the thought of Adnan seeing it first.
Suddenly, Adnan abruptly dove towards the ground. Albus' heart seemed to stop for a moment; Adnan had spotted the Snitch. Albus followed him like madman, flying almost vertical towards the ground. Several spectators screeched, horrified. He failed spectacularly, though; Adnan skilfully caught the Snitch and landed gently. At the same moment, Albus fell forwards off his broom and crushed painfully next to Adnan at the ground. The spectators were already cheering and laughing; Albus saw Marquard Moon congratulating Adnan for making it to the team. Anger was boiling inside him.
He had lost.
O
Harry was waiting together with Professor McGonagall and Professor Arrington in the Headmistress' office for the wand-investigation to finish. Three Aurors, who were specialised on the "Priori Incantatem" spell, visited all the teachers and controlled their wands. Professor Arrington had refused this, because he had "experimented to invent new spells. I cannot allow strangers to look at my tries and possibly steal my ideas." In the end, Arrington agreed that instead of the Aurors, Professor McGonagall controlled his wand.
None of the three really had a convincing theory regarding the motive of the deed. Harry still tended towards pure-blood extremists; Professor Arrington didn't quite believe in this. They agreed, however, that the murderer's aim must have been to breed discord between humans and centaurs. Why he could have wanted that, however, remained a mystery. After the series of murders which were likely committed by the goblins, Firenze's death through the hand of a wizard was certainly unsettling. Was there a connection between the assaults?
Suddenly, the door of the office burst open, and the three Aurors entered the room. In their midst was a confused-looking Professor Botwright.
"What is the meaning of this, Proudfoot?" asked Professor McGonagall imperiously.
Proudfoot, who was one of Harry's most experienced deputies at the Auror Office, answered matter-of-factly, "Madam Botwright's wand was used to cast the Killing Curse on the centaur Firenze."
A shocked silence followed. "Preposterous," said Professor McGonagall, who had been the first to regain her composure, eventually. "What do you have to say about this, Reannon?"
"I must remind you, Madam Botwright, that any statement you make here could be used against - " began Proudfoot.
"Of course I had nothing to do with this!" interrupted Professor Botwright with a mixture of anger and fright. "Someone must have stolen my wand secretly!"
"Where have you been in the night Firenze died?" asked Harry.
"Well, I was in my bed, sleeping, I'd say," shouted Professor Botwright. "Good heavens, if you don't believe me, I am ready to say this under the influence of Veritaserum."
"You know as well as I do, that Veritaserum can be fought quite easily by a powerful wizard or witch," said Professor Arrington calmly. "Of course, no one can force you, but if you would agree to subjugate yourself to Legilimency, we could clarify this at once."
Professor Botwright shifted uncomfortably.
"You don't have to do this, Reannon," said Professor McGonagall. "There is no proof at all that you are guilty so far."
"No, I'm doing it," said Professor Botwright, taking a deep breath. "Under the condition, of course, that you will only look at the relevant things and not pry in my head unnecessarily."
"I would do it myself, but I'm afraid Potter and his Aurors need to do this for official reasons," sighed Professor Arrington.
"Peter?" asked Harry. Proudfoot was a by far more skilled Legilimens than he was. In spite of his former connection to Voldemort, this kind of mind magic had never been his strong suit.
Proudfoot nodded, aimed his wand at Professor Botwright and said, "Legilimens!" Professor Botwright flinched, but didn't resist. After about half a minute, Proudfoot drew back his wand.
"She's innocent," he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "In the night it happened, Madam Botwright was indeed sleeping."
Harry's shoulders slumped in relief. Professor Arrington snorted. "That's not really a piece of good news, is it, Mr Potter? No offense, Reannon, of course I'm glad it wasn't you. But that means, that someone must have stolen your wand. Do you seal your office at night, Reannon?" he asked.
"Of course not," said Professor Botwright, who obviously had already recovered reasonably. "I am the Head of Hufflepuff House, I want my students to be able to reach me at night as well."
"So the perpetrator must have stolen the wand, killed Firenze and returned the wand afterwards," said Harry musingly. "That would mean that it was indeed a Hogwarts teacher."
"Or the murderer waited anywhere on our grounds for an accomplice in the castle to steal the wand for him. In this case, the thief could also have been a student, even if this theory seems a little more unlikely," said Professor Arrington.
"True. I cannot interrogate hundreds of students, though," said Harry. "Neither can I arrest the whole staff and use Legilimency on every single teacher. Minerva, please ask the students if anyone has recognized something. But, as there is a fair chance that there is a murderer in the castle, we have to be concerned about the students' safety. I could deploy some Aurors -"
"No," said Professor McGonagall immediately. "No offense, Potter, but I won't have Aurors in this castle. I highly doubt they would ensure more safety. There's no need look so doubtfully, Proudfoot. Face it, wherever you Aurors are, automatically conflicts and fights arise."
"I agree with Minerva," said Professor Arrington. "Don't worry, Mr Potter, I will have a close look at everything which is happening here, especially at Smethwyck and Pyrites, of course. There's no need to look so doubtfully yet again, Proudfoot, I assure you I am more than capable of doing this."
"Very well," said Harry reluctantly. "At the very least, however, we will have to question the teachers. Not now, though; Professor Botwright, please remain out of sight for the rest of the day. I want the perpetrator to think we fell into his trick and are suspecting you. Tomorrow in the morning we will return and hopefully catch him by surprise."
Professor Botwright didn't seem to be particularly enthusiastic about this, but still nodded.
"Then we will leave for now. Thank you all for your cooperation. Professor Botwright, I'm very sorry for the inconvenience we caused you." He paused. "Of course we might have to resume our investigations in the Forbidden Forest as well. I will keep you informed, Professor," Harry added towards Professor McGonagall.
"Thank you, Potter," said Professor McGonagall. Suddenly, she gave him a rare smile. "It's always good to see you."
"It's good to see you too, Professor," answered Harry, returning the smile. He nodded at Arrington, and together with Proudfoot and his two colleagues, he left the office.