Chapter Three: The Investigation
Harry, Dawlish, and most of the rest of the Auror department were in Malfoy Manor, looking for any evidence that may have pointed to what exactly had happened. This proved quite difficult, as there seemed to be no signs of a struggle. All there was left at the manor that evidenced that something had happened the previous night was the corpse of Narcissa Malfoy, whose life had been claimed by whom the Aurors largely believed was her own husband, Lucius Malfoy, and a few cinders left over from the fire in the fireplace, which whomever had murdered Narcissa didn't extinguish before they fled. Harry found Narcissa's wand in the pocket of her nightgown. A brilliant idea struck him. If she had fought back using her wand, or if her own wand had been used to kill her, her wand would remember it. Harry withdrew his own wand, put its tip to the tip of Narcissa's, and muttered "Prior Incantato". A faint white light appeared between the two wands. "Hmmm," said Harry. "Deletrius." The light disappeared. The last spell that her wand had performed was just "Lumos". Not a spell one would fight someone with.
"She didn't fight back," said Harry, sounding confused.
"What d'you mean?" asked Dawlish.
"Her wand's last act was to light the way for its master. She didn't duel with whoever killed her." There was much muttering amongst the Aurors at this news. Suddenly, there was a loud crack. All of the Aurors had their wands at the ready and looked towards the source of the noise. Kingsley had apparated into the room.
"It's alright, it's just me," said Kingsley. "Any news?"
"A little," said Harry. "There was no struggle at all. Narcissa didn't fight back. I used Prior Incantato. And you? What did Draco and Astoria have to say?"
Kingsley decided to leave out his conversation with Astoria, and replied. "There was…. A bit of a scuffle," said Kingsley. "Mr. Malfoy stunned Mr. Weasley, then he attempted to take me down too, but I stunned him before he could get the chance to do any real damage. Then…. Well…. Things got a little…. Strange…. To say the least. He started mumbling about a backup plan, something that couldn't be stopped. He kept saying that we were 'too late' to stop it. He looked deathly frightened during it all. Then he passed out. He's been escorted to St. Mungo's by Mr. Weasley and Ms. Greengrass."
"He must've known something," Harry said. "Something else happened last night that we don't even know about yet. Someone must've had a motive for murdering Narcissa Malfoy."
"I've found something!" said Flaherty, another Auror. "It's a book. I found it in Lucius Malfoy's study. That room had heavy protective charms on it, but we finally got in! It looks like this is a book of really dark magic." He handed it to Kingsley.
"Secrets of the Darkest Art," muttered Kingsley. "Hmmm…. I know he's an ex-Death Eater, but he didn't need a book of the dark arts to learn how to use the Killing Curse. They were all well learned in performing Unforgivable Curses. What do you think, Potter?" He handed the book to Harry. It looked quite old and worn. The lettering on the cover was peeling away. Harry looked horrified at the sight of the book. He took it from Kingsley and held it delicately.
"Horcruxes," mumbled Harry. He recognized the book at once. It was one of the books Hermione had summoned from Dumbledore's office at the end of their sixth year at Hogwarts. It was the only book out of the lot that had given explicit instructions on creating and destroying Horcruxes. "He was a regular at Borgin and Burkes. He probably got this book from them."
"What are you going on about, Potter?" Kingsley asked.
"Lucius killed Narcissa. He did it to split his soul so he could create a Horcrux. Just like his old master."
"A Horcrux?" asked Kingsley. "But, what would he turn into a Horcrux? And after seeing what happened to Voldemort, why in the world would he even think about splitting his soul?"
"I dunno," said Harry. "But I'm going to find out. I'm going to St. Mungo's. I may not be Draco's favorite person, but after last year, he owes me one. He'll talk." Kingsley hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
"Alright. We'll hold down the fort here and look for more clues. I'll send along a patronus in case of emergency," Kingsley said. "And Potter…. Be careful. Draco didn't seem…. Right…. When he was at the Ministry. He may not be in a fit state to talk."
"I'll be careful Kingsley." And with that, Harry disapparated.
Harry appeared in the lobby of St. Mungo's. He approached the young witch at the front desk and said "I'm here to see Draco Malfoy."
The witch, who appeared to be absorbed in that day's edition of The Daily Prophet, looked up from her paper, looking disgruntled. "He's in 'Spell Damage'," she said, pointing to the sign, which indicated that Spell Damage was on the fourth floor.
Harry headed up to the fourth floor, wondering why Draco was in the Spell Damage ward. He reached the fourth floor, where there was another desk, with a kind looking witch behind it. "Hello ma'am," Harry said. "I'm looking for Draco Malfoy."
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy has just been put in a room for recovery. He was under a nasty Imperius Curse. I'll take you to him, dear." They walked down a brightly lit hallway until they reached the end. The kind witch then turned to the last door on the right and knocked. "Mr. Malfoy? You have a visitor. Can he come in dear?"
"I don't want to see anyone right now," Draco said, sounding irritated. "Go away."
"Draco, it's me, Harry. I have a few questions for you. I'm here on behalf of the Ministry, and I insist that you let me talk to you for a couple of minutes."
"Potter?" he asked disbelievingly. "Yeah, right. Like I'd talk to you."
"Really, Malfoy?" Harry asked. "Even after Ron, Hermione, and I saved your life multiple times last year? You owe me Malfoy!"
Draco hesitated, then spoke softly. "You have five minutes, Potter. Come in." The kind witch smiled at Harry encouragingly and pushed the door open. Harry stepped inside, leaving the witch to go back to her post. The room was very dimly lit. The only source of light was a single candle on Draco's bedside table. "Well?" Draco asked. "What do you want?"
"What happened at the Ministry, Draco?"
"Is that it?" Draco asked. "The minister could have told you that. Quit wasting my time."
"You don't remember, do you?" asked Harry. "Because you were under the Imperius curse. Because whatever your father is planning, you know what it is, and he doesn't want you telling anyone." Draco was silent. He sat upright on the bed with a stunned look on his face. "Your father killed your mother, didn't he?"
"You have to stop him," Draco said, looking both terrified and inspired. Beneath his pale, gaunt, horrified looking face, his eyes were filled with fiery determination. "He's going to do something awful, and you're the only one who stands a chance against him. You were the one who killed You-Know-Who. You can stop my father from bringing him back." Now it was Harry's turn to look pale and sick.
"Voldemort?" Harry asked quietly as Draco flinched violently. "But…. How? It's impossible."
"No." Draco said. "It's impossible in the present. But not in the past. Father has stolen a Time Turner."
"But all of the Time Turners were destroyed."
"All but one," said Draco. "Father stole it from the ministry just after he came back. Probably on his orders." Harry paused for what felt like an eternity. His mind was racing.
"Where is your father now?" asked Harry.
"Given that nothing's changed, I don't think he's gone back in time yet. In the present, he was heading to Little Hangleton. The exact place where he wants to appear in the past. More specifically, the 'Riddle House'. Where You-Know-Who took refuge before he came back."
Harry, looking excited, was about to disapparate right then and there, but paused. "Draco," he asked. "Do you know why your father killed your mother?"
"No," Draco said. "I wish I did. I have a feeling that whatever the reason is, it can't be good. This plan of his may be even bigger than I knew. Potter…. Be careful. And good luck."
"Thanks, Draco," Harry said. "I'll stop him, and avenge your mother. I owe her one, too. She saved my life." And with that, Harry disapparated.