Disclaimer: I don't own HP and Gashlycrumb Tinies.
Flushed with adrenaline from his success, the murderer made a pensieve of what occurred and placed it inside a tiny glass vial and into his bewitched small satchel.
Before apparating from the scene of the crime, the triumphant killer whispered to himself:
G is for George smothered under a rug.
Then with a loud pop his high pitched cackle lingered in the air only to be drowned in the screams of young George Quimbley's parents at the sight of their young fifteen year old's demise.
Chapter 1: Friction
In the Ministry of Magic, the new minister, Porthos Gray held a secret meeting with the aurors. Adjusting his fine pointed hat that bore the seal of the ministry, probably buying time and calming himself, he heaved a sigh and touched the crease on his wearied head.
Around him the room was filled with chatter about the most recent murder – George Quimbley's. Conspiracy theories and others fenced back and forth from the aurors. Then silence enveloped the room as a streak of blond, and a bounce of curly brown hair was spotted entering the hall from opposite directions.
The audience watched as the two top aurors of present times took their place across from each other on the table nearest the pedestal of the minister.
The two latecomers, one a striking blond with cool silver eyes wearing a forest green robe and his signature smirk was Draco Malfoy, son of the late Lucius Malfoy, and Narcissa Black Malfoy. He was young, handsome, rich and very intelligent and cunning. Stealth and astuteness, not too mention, his knowledge of the dark arts worked to his advantage.
Across him, looking indignantly, the other one, possessing long dark soft curls and chocolate brown eyes, wearing a red robe, swept the room with her observant eyes was Hermione Granger, a muggle-born. She was, like the former, a young twenty-one year old, beautiful, equally intelligent, witty, courageous and outspoken. Her mousetrap fast mind, astounding knowledge of both the muggle world and the wizard world were part of her artillery.
Not one to waste time, the minister rose from his seat and began the meeting. There was no need to call for order anymore.
"A pleasant evening to all of you, dear aurors, if you could call this evening pleasant at all." He said with authority then his eyes narrowed and he spoke grimly. "I am certain that all of you have heard about the demise of young George Quimbley."
The deep voice of a black enigmatic man suddenly spoke up, "Minister, is his death connected to that of the other six?"
"Ah. Well, Mr. Kingsley, I am not that sure as well but the timing – one-week apart killings – it's too hard to dismiss. If I'm not mistaken, were you the one assigned to Ms. Amy Sullen's case?"
Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded. "Yes."
"Again, if I'm not mistaken, that her case was reopened?"
"It has recently come to my attention, though I don't really understand sir as why there is a need too. Her death was that of an accident. She fell down a flight of stairs. How could there be a connection other than her age?"
The minister sighed then spoke again, "Yes. No one can doubt that such an event could be ruled out as an accident. But falling down a stairs as a cause of death is hardly believable. Possible, yes, but the probability is slim. Regardless, a pattern could be established starting from Ms. Sullen's death."
"First, would be the weekly intervals of the killings."
"Second would be the age of the victims which were all seventeen."
"And lastly, all deaths are passed off as 'accidental' thus foul play is hard to prove."
Nods, frowns and loud banters thundered through the room except for two who were sitting calmly on their chairs, taking in every information.
"Silence!" The minister ordered and the room fell silent once again. "I called everyone in here to be aware of the situation and aid as much as you can but there are other cases to clean up that we can't put off. So I am fairly glad that our top two aurors are here to grace us with their presence."
He then looked at the two in front of him, "Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger, I will assign this case to you two."
Draco Malfoy rose and slammed his hand on the table in rage, "That's preposterous! Why should I work with her? I can take on this case myself."
Hermione Granger rose as well but remained calm, "I too detest working with him. I can work alone."
The minister threw his hands in the air, "Work together, or alone, it doesn't matter! I want you two on the case and I want the murderer in Azkaban as soon as possible. Do whatever means necessary. I just want the bloody bastard's head."
The two sat down silently and nodded in obedience.
"All of you may go but you two come with me. Meeting adjourned." The minister bellowed.
The two rivals followed the minister to his office and sat on the chairs in front of the minister's huge mahogany desk.
"What do you have so far, minister?" Draco asked in a polite tone.
"For starters, here is the list of the victims. There are seven in all." Porthos said and produced a list, which both Draco and Hermione scanned carefully.
"Is this alphabetically arranged…"? Hermione asked as she read the list thoroughly.
The old minister shook his head. "It's listed in the order of…occurrences…"
Hermione nodded, "I see."
"So he kills alphabetically, then?" Draco muttered to himself.
"The names are somewhat familiar, I just can't put my finger on it…" Hermione mused to herself as well.
"Where did the killings take place?" Draco glanced up in question to the minister.
The minister tapped the parchment lightly and the date, place and cause of death of the victims appeared adjacent to their names.
"All over Europe…well that narrows down the scope… a bit…" he wrinkled his nose.
Hermione silently read the names again in her mind…
Amy Sullen, May 9, 2008, England. Fell of a stairs.
Basil Fairweather, May 16, 2008, Scotland. Assaulted by bears.
Clara Clearwater, May 23, 2008, Paris. Wasted away.
Desmond Rockbottom, May 30, 2009, Greenland. Fell of a sleigh.
Ernest Lightwing, June 6, 2008, Naples. Choked on a peach.
Fanny Rogers, June 13, 2008, Poland. Sucked dry by a leech.
George Quimbley, June 20, 2008, Godric's Hollow. Smothered under a rug.
"All deaths does seem accidental and explainable by natural causes…" Hermione remarked. "Why does all this seem familiar? Hmmm…"
"The death description has a lyrical feel to it…sucked dry by a leech? Aren't these killings… natural for muggles?" Draco quipped.
"The killings do rhyme, I never noticed that before." Porthos said astounded.
"The seventh… smothered under a rug? I suppose the next one would die from something that rhymes with 'rug'?" Draco trailed off.
The minister nodded and his forehead crinkled, "Rhymes with 'rug'? 'Jug'… 'mug'… 'hug'…hmmm…"
Draco snorted, "How could someone die from a hug?" He said gruffly.
"I don't see you coming up with anything," The minister muttered and continued with the guessing… "How about 'slug'?"
Draco heaved a deep breath, "At this point anything would be possible considering the 'accidental' deaths… but 'mug'… could work… could the next victim get 'mugged'?"
"Wasted away… fell of a sleigh…" Hermione murmured then like lightning she gasped. Draco's and Porthos's eyes darted to her.
"What is it?" Draco demanded.
"Do you read muggle literature?" Hermione asked quizzically.
"Not much, why is there a relation?" Porthos asked curiously.
"How about you?" Hermione looked at Draco skeptically. Draco shook his head. "I thought as much." She grumbled.
"Well… seeing as the names are alphabetical… then the deaths formed a rhyming scheme… and children…no young adults are involved…" Hermione trailed off.
"Just tell us already!" Draco snapped at her, breaking off her reverie.
Hermione frowned and sighed, "You see there's an old children's book written and illustrated by a man named Edward Gorey, published in 1962 that was entitled, Gashlycrumb Tinies. Are you familiar with that?"
Both shook heads. "How is that related?" Draco said impatiently.
Hermione cocked a brow and sighed again, "It's an alphabet, sort of. You see it tells of the deaths of children in very simple yet unconventional matters. It's illustrated in black and white theme."
"So the book depicts death of children? That's ghastly! Muggles love that?" Draco said in disgust.
Hermione wrinkled her nose, "Yes. Sort of. Dark humor, I guess."
"So the deaths there…are they similar to what's happening?" Porthos asked eagerly.
"If I remember correctly… I've only seen it twice myself… well, the names, the first names anyway and the methods of death match those of the book exactly. I think I can borrow a copy from my Harry. He loves those."
"The story goes like, 'A is for Amy who fell down the stairs' and so on…"
"So all in all if we don't get to catch him, twenty-six deaths will occur?" Draco asked.
"Yes. So far seven has died so that leaves…"
"H. The eighth letter. Do you remember that line?" Draco finished.
Hermione scrunched up her face, "Give me a moment."
Then she opened her eyes, "H is for Hector done in by a thug'."
"Today is Wednesday… and the killings take place on Fridays so we only have two more days to go before the next killing." Draco said thoughtful but alarmed.
"But there are thousands of Hectors in Europe! Thousands of seventeen-year old Hectors to be precise! WE can't possibly guard them all!" Porthos exclaimed.
"Of course we can. Can't we put up charms or something on each one's homes? And not all of the thousands are wizards. All the victims are wizards." Hermione explained.
Draco nodded, "That slims it down again. If all the victims are natural European citizens."
Hermione blinked at Porthos, "Are they?"
Porthos slumped on his seat, "Oh no. Alas, not all of them are. Some are witch and wizard tourists…"
"That makes this complicated then…" Draco sulked. Then he sighed dejectedly and looked at Hermione. "Granger, I don't like this idea at all but considering the urgency of the situation, we need to team up." He said with chagrin.
Hermione scowled but sighed also in defeat. "I guess we do…"
"Why don't we get that book first, Granger, and let's think about theories."
"Hm. Fine. Let's go to Harry's home then, Malfoy."
"Wait." The minister called.
"For this matter, this should be dealt with, with extreme discretion. I suggest posing as newlyweds on your honeymoon, touring Europe to avoid questions. Say you eloped or something. We don't know who to trust at the moment."
Draco and Hermione looked at him with disbelief and impalement. Both started to protest but the minister shut them up. "This is a direct order. You can either take it or leave the case. I'm sure Kingsley could do the job."
"Fine!" They both yelled with disgust.
With a pop the top aurors apparated infront of Harry Potter's house.
Unbeknownst to them, the killer was already planning his next conquest…
Watch out little Hector. If you know what's best for you, you wouldn't go around sneaking out of your house so late at night alone.
AN: The killer obviously thought up an infallible plan. Will he strike again? And what of the supposedly, new 'honeymooners'? Will they get along or would things work to their disadvantage? Find out soon.
Margaux